Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The morning sun rose high over the Holy City, casting long, sharp shadows across the white marble avenues of the Cathedral.

Inside the Grand Chamber of the Supreme Assembly, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

The cavernous room was packed to absolute capacity.

For the first time in Varanian history, the assembly was not occupied solely by the ruling Dukes and Duchesses.

Ranged behind the obsidian council table stood the twenty Senators, dressed in their sharp, high-collared blue mantles.

Beside them stood the Chief Justices of the Judicial Department in their austere gray robes, flanked by the senior Ministers who managed the domestic portfolios under Grand Chancellor Manuses.

Under normal protocol, these administrative figures would never dare step across the threshold of the Supreme Assembly, a sacred ground reserved strictly for the highest tier of military and duchy nobility.

Today, however, they had been explicitly summoned by royal decree.

CLANG!

The massive iron doors shuddered open, echoing like a thunderclap through the hall.

Roy walked in, his broad, crimson wolf-man form wrapped in a sleek, gold-embroidered cloak that swept against the polished stone floor.

The moment his golden-crimson eyes swept across the chamber, every Duke, Duchess, Senator, Justice, and Minister rose to their feet in unison, dropping into a deep, synchronized bow.

”Greetings to the Apostle of Lord Varanus!” their voices echoed in harmony.

Roy walked calmly to the head of the obsidian table and took his throne.

”Sit,” he commanded softly.

The Dukes, Duchesses, and high ministers took their designated seats with rigid, disciplined speed, while the Senators and Justices remained standing against the outer pillars, their eyes locked on Roy with immense, trembling anticipation.

Roy rested his clawed hands flat on the smooth obsidian table.

He cleared his throat—a low, rumbling sound that instantly brought absolute, pin-drop silence to the massive hall.

”Yesterday,” Roy began, his deep voice carrying clearly to every corner of the room, ”Grand Chancellor Manuses brought forth a matter of great importance. A nation without a physical crown is an incomplete entity in the eyes of the mortal world.

The people of Varania require a sovereign.”

A subtle rustle of excitement passed through the back rows, but no one dared speak.

”Therefore,” Roy declared, his gold-flecked eyes flashing with authority, ”a King shall be appointed to sit upon the throne of Varania!”

Gasps of awe rippled through the assembled nobles.

Dukes Manuses, Attaris, and High Priest Croak listened with sharp, unwavering focus.

”However,” Roy continued, raising a hand to still the room, ”this crown shall not be casually handed out, nor will it be claimed through political maneuvering or lineage bias.

The candidate shall be selected from among the noble bloodlines of this realm. It matters not if a noble candidate comes from a grand Duchy, a County, or a humble Barony.

So long as they carry noble blood within their veins, they possess the right to be chosen as the leader of Varania.”

The Senators and lesser ministers exchanged wide-eyed, stunned glances.

This meant that even the lowest-ranking Barons across the six Duchies had an equal opportunity to see their child elevated to the absolute ruler of the entire kingdom!

”The selection process shall be executed under divine law,” Roy instructed, leaning forward. ”First, every recognized noble family across all six Duchies must put forth a single candidate from their bloodline.

No noble house is exempt; every house must select one representative. Once chosen, these candidates will be brought directly to Saint Jarden’s Cathedral.”

Roy paused, letting the weight of his next words settle heavily into their minds.

”They shall remain inside the sacred sanctuary of the Church until further notice,” Roy stated coldly. ”There, they will spend their days in absolute isolation and deep prayer, seeking divine grace as Lord Varanus watches over them.

This period of sacred trial shall last for precisely seven days.”

He glanced at High Priest Croak. ”During these seven days, the sanctuary is sealed. Not even the High Priest, nor the Inquisition, nor myself shall step foot inside the Church.

The candidates will stand alone before the gaze of the God of Beasts.”

High Priest Croak bowed his heavy head in complete compliance.

”We hear and obey, Lord Jarden.”

”On the morning of the seventh day,” Roy declared, standing up from his obsidian throne, ”I shall enter the sanctuary and announce the candidate who has been chosen by the divine will to be our King.

And once that monarch is crowned, a new Royal Family shall officially be born from their descendants, establishing the imperial bloodline of Varania for generations to come.”

Roy looked out over the stunned, breathless assembly, his golden eyes burning like molten iron.

”Spread this edict across every corner of the Varanial Region immediately,” Roy commanded. ”All noble houses have precisely twenty-four hours to select their candidate and deliver their names directly to my private office.

Dismissed.”

Roy turned and strode toward the private exit.

As he stepped out, every single noble, minister, and warrior in the room slammed their right fists against their chests, bowing until their heads nearly touched the ground, shouting with wild, burning fervor:

”Praise be to the God of Beasts!”

”Glory to Varania!”

By noon, the Edict of the Crown had erupted across the six Duchies like an unstoppable wildfire.

From the bustling, white-paved avenues of the Holy City to the newly built stone bastions of the Duchies of Etho and May, magic transmission towers and town criers blasted the Apostle’s declaration to every citizen.

The entire region spiraled into a state of intense, electrified madness.

In the estates of the high Duchies, intense family councils were convened within minutes.

Patriarchs and matriarchs argued fiercely over which son or daughter possessed the purest demeanor, the highest cultivation talent, or the deepest religious devotion to present as their single candidate.

Down in the countryside, humble Barons who held mere border villages wept with disbelief, realizing their minor bloodline stood on the exact same footing as the ancient Duchy houses before the eyes of the God of Beasts.

Every carriage, messenger beast, and communication array in Varania was pushed to its absolute limit as names were finalized.

Across the land, citizens gathered in tavern squares and market plazas, debating passionately, placing wagers, and praying with feverish intensity.

Desperate to know who would emerge from the sealed sanctuary on the seventh day as the first crowned King of Varania.