Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The grand coronation ceremony drew to a triumphant close, but the spirit of celebration across the kingdom was far from over.

For three days and three nights, the entire Varanial Region erupted into an exuberant, historic festival.

In every city square from the heart of the Holy City to the outer borders, beastmen danced beneath glowing paper lanterns.

Children laughed and ran through wide avenues, singing sacred hymns and playing games, while vendors handed out roasted delicacies and sweet drinks to every passerby.

For the first time in centuries, disparate clans and forgotten tribes were united under a single banner, bound together by prosperity and absolute faith in the God of Beasts.

Yet beneath the festive jubilation, the realm’s defenses remained razor-sharp.

Columns of heavily armored soldiers maintained strict patrols across every county, while military officers kept high-tier barrier formations active around the perimeter walls.

Not a single agent of Mandraxx was granted leave.

Under Alisa’s unyielding command, the intelligence network worked double-time, monitoring every crowd, tavern, and shadow to guarantee that no foreign spy or hidden insurgent could compromise the sacred joy of the kingdom.

While the streets below echoed with music and laughter, an atmosphere of intense gravity hung inside the private strategy hall of the royal palace.

Roy had summoned the Supreme Assembly for a high-level briefing.

However, the spatial layout of the sacred council chamber had permanently shifted.

The long obsidian conference table, which previously held eight designated places for the Apostle, the six Dukes, and General Trojan, now featured a ninth seat.

General Trojan, though strictly the supreme commander of the military rather than a regional governor, had been summoned to participate due to the strategic nature of the meeting.

The newly created ninth seat rested at the far end of the long table, positioned directly opposite the elevated high seat of the Apostle.

It was the seat reserved exclusively for the King of Varania.

The six Dukes and General Trojan were already seated along the sides, while King Allan sat calmly at the far end, his long dark silk hair draping gracefully over his royal midnight-blue robes.

His ruby eyes held a cool, dignified stillness.

The heavy, runic double doors swung open.

Roy stepped into the room, his towering Wolf-man form radiating a quiet, undeniable pressure.

The gold-embroidered cloak swept gently against his ankles as he walked with measured, powerful steps toward the head of the table.

Instantly, the six Dukes and General Trojan scraped their chairs back and stood up in synchronized unity.

King Allan remained seated—a explicit decree previously established by Roy himself. Before the public and the court, the King of Varania bowed to no living soul save for the God of Beasts.

To ensure the monarch possessed absolute political sovereignty in the eyes of the nobles, Allan was not to act as a mere subservient puppet in council, even in the presence of the Apostle.

”Greetings, Apostle of the God of Beasts,” the Dukes and General Trojan declared in unison, bowing their heads deeply.

Roy reached the head of the table and pulled out his heavy obsidian chair.

”Sit,” he commanded smoothly.

The council members dropped back into their seats, their attention locked onto the Apostle.

Roy placed his clawed hands flat on the polished table, his gold-crimsonflecked eyes sweeping over the assembled leaders of the nation.

”First,” Roy began, his deep voice carrying a tone of sincere approval, ”I commend each of you. The coronation was executed flawlessly, the administrative transition is complete, and the people are united.

You have done well.”

He paused, letting the praise settle before his gaze hardened into something far more vast and ambitious.

”Look upon the kingdom you have built,” Roy spoke softly, his voice resonating with an undercurrent of divine authority. ”You see a desert transformed into a haven. But I tell you today... this is merely the foundation.

Very soon, the Kingdom of Varania will extend its reach and conquer theTen Continents.”

Silence slammed into the room like a physical blow.

The six Dukes, Duchesses, and General Trojan sat frozen, their eyes widening in utter shock and profound confusion.

The Ten Continents!

To any cultivator raised in the isolated mortal realms, the Ten Continents was a legendary, incomprehensible expanse—a massive world ruled by ancient super-sects, demigods, and vast human empires that viewed minor border regions as mere specks of dust.

For a newly established beastman kingdom to project its power onto such a stage seemed naturally impossible, an unimaginable leap in scale.

Yet, as the initial shock washed over them, the doubt in their hearts vanished, replaced by an electric surge of overwhelming excitement.

They believed implicitly in the God of Beasts.

If the Apostle spoke of taking the Ten Continents, it meant Lord Varanus had already willed it to be!

King Allan was the first to break the heavy silence.

Leaning forward slightly, his ruby eyes fixed on Roy, he spoke with calm, royal composure.

”Lord Jarden,” King Allan requested smoothly, ”pray elaborate on what you mean. What lies beyond our locked borders?”

Roy tilted his head slightly toward Duchess Alisa. ”For weeks, I have ordered Duchess Alisa to direct her covert scout cells beyond our spatial barriers, into the adjacent territories of the Ten Continents.

What her network uncovered is an absolute abomination.”

Roy leaned forward, his voice dropping into a dark, icy register.

”Directly past our eastern border lies the Jura Eastern Continent,” Roy revealed, laying out the intelligence. ”In the border province, a human regional hub named Kaelos City is actively running massive hunting operations against our kind.

They capture thousands of innocent beastmen, place suppression collars on them, and sell them as cattle to a local cultivation faction called the Glorious Mythical Sect.”

Roy’s golden eyes flashed with a violent light.

”That sect does not merely use our people as slaves. They forcibly extract the mana cores of living beastmen to fuel their cultivation, and they butcher and feast upon their flesh at their banquets.

Over five thousand beastmen have already been slaughtered like livestock.”

BANG!

General Trojan’s heavy fist slammed against the obsidian table, cracking the polished stone.

His crimson fur bristled with raw, unbridled fury, his fangs bared in a snarl.

”Animals!” General Trojan growled, his voice thick with bloodlust. ”To treat our brethren as food and resources... I will personally march the Crusade across the border and tear that city to the ground!”

Duchess Brenda’s eyes burned with cold anger, while Duke Attaris and Grand Chancellor Manuses clenched their fists in quiet, bitter outrage.

Even King Allan’s expression darkened, his ruby eyes glowing with a sharp, dangerous intelligence, though he remained far more coordinated and refined than the hot-headed general.

King Allan looked directly at Roy. ”Does the Apostle intend to launch an intervention to save the hunted beastmen of Jura?”

”Yes,” Roy answered without a second of hesitation. ”And we will not stop at a simple rescue. By the absolute decree and will of Lord Varanus, we will systematically dismantle Kaelos City and grind the Glorious Mythical Sect into absolute dust.”

Roy raised a clawed finger, tempering their burning rage with immediate tactical coldness.

”However, we must act with surgical precision,” Roy instructed. ”The border region connecting Jura to our domain is dotted with dozens of isolated human villages.

Furthermore, the Glorious Mythical Sect operates as a subordinate under a terrifying super-faction—the Myriad Heaven Sect.

If we march an entire army across the border right now, we will alert the ancient monsters of the continent before our kingdom is ready for full-scale continental warfare.”

Roy looked across the table, laying out his strategic approach:

”Therefore, our true identity must remain completely hidden. We will infiltrate Jura under the cover of darkness, operate as silent phantoms, and dismantle their hunting networks from within.”

Grand Chancellor Manuses stroked his beard thoughtfully, acknowledging the wisdom of the plan.

He looked up at the Apostle.

”Lord Jarden... if a full army cannot cross, which among the Dukes and Duchesses will accompany you and His Majesty into the Jura Eastern Continent?”

Roy’s gold-flecked eyes settled upon two specific figures sitting along the table.

”I will take Duchess Eurenia for her formidable offensive strength,” Roy declared calmly, before turning his gaze toward the spymaster.

”and Duchess Alisa for her covert intelligence network.”