Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The square fell into a terrifying, dead silence.

For a full three seconds, the ordinary citizens kneeling in the dirt could not comprehend what their eyes were seeing.

The radiant silver armor, the oppressive aura, and the terrifying authority of the Holy Church—everything that had held them in paralyzing terror for days—had just been shattered in a single, silent instant.

Then, the spray of hot crimson hit the cobblestones.

Gasping horrors and choked screams erupted from the kneeling crowd.

Women covered their children’s eyes, men shrank back into the dirt in sheer panic, and horrified murmurs swept through the populace.

They were witnessing a high and mighty Paladin of the God of the Sky stripped of his limbs like a helpless insect.

The Paladin himself staggered backward, his boots sliding through his own blood.

He stared down at his shoulders in absolute, unadulterated shock.

His arms were gone.

Where his steel-clad limbs had been a second ago, there were now only two ragged, spurting stumps of torn muscle and shattered bone.

It took three excruciating seconds for his mind to register the sudden void. Then, the overwhelming wall of agonizing pain hit him all at once.

”AAAAAHHHHHHH! MY ARMS! MY ARMS!”

The Paladin threw his head back, letting out a ragged, blood-curdling shriek that echoed off the surrounding stone walls.

He shuddered violently, his heavy silver plate armor rattling as he stumbled back and forth, trying in vain to clutch at wounds he no longer had the hands to touch.

A few paces away, the tall, golden-haired young man let out a long, weary sigh.

Beneath this flawless human appearance—complete with cascading golden hair and sun-bright eyes—was the true form of Grand Chancellor Manuses.

To conceal his true nature as a high-ranking beastman while operating within the human cities, he had crafted this pristine, martial disguise.

Just an hour ago, he had received the dark, absolute command sent down directly from Lord Roy through Alisa:

Purge the Paladins. Make their deaths horrific. Leave no trace of beastial magic.

For a warrior of Manuses’ caliber, receiving permission to hunt these arrogant, hypocritical zealots was nothing short of a divine gift.

”You... you demonic bastard!” the Paladin shrieked through the suffocating pain, his face pale and slick with cold sweat behind his visor.

He glared at Manuses with venomous, psychotic hatred, blood dribbling from his lips.

”You dare attack an envoy of the Sky God?! I swear... I swear on my soul... every single subhuman in this city will pay for this! Inspector Lyrex will butcher every last one of you! I will personally make sure every creature who watched this humiliation is flayed alive!”

Manuses didn’t even blink.

His golden eyes remained cold, calm, and utterly detached.

”A barking dog with no teeth,” Manuses spoke softly, his deep voice carrying an oppressive, ancient weight that made the air tremble.

”You invoke the name of your god to butcher the weak, yet you squeal like a pig the moment your own blood is spilled.”

”Shut up! SHUT UP!” the Paladin screamed, trying to channel his holy mana to stop the bleeding, but his channels were completely ruptured.

This was only the beginning of his nightmare.

Manuses did not even draw a weapon.

He simply took a single, slow step forward.

What could a mere Initial-stage Martial General hope to achieve against a mighty Martial Saint?

The difference between their realms was not a gap; it was an unfathomable ocean.

Manuses didn’t need techniques, grand spells, or magical arrays.

His raw, unbridled physical strength alone was capable of shattering mountains and parting rivers.

SWISH.

Before the Paladin could even see Manuses move, the golden-haired giant appeared directly in front of him.

Manuses raised a single foot and brought his heel down on the Paladin’s left knee.

CRACK!

The heavy steel greave crumpled like paper, and the Paladin’s kneecap was pulverized into dust.

The holy warrior let out another wet shriek as his leg folded backward at an unnatural angle, forcing him violently down onto one knee in his own pool of blood.

”You boasted of your holy power,” Manuses said calmly, looking down at the broken knight with absolute contempt.

Manuses raised his hand, placing a single palm lightly onto the top of the Paladin’s silver helmet.

He didn’t strike—he simply exerted a tiny fraction of downward pressure.

CREAK... BANG!

The Paladin’s second leg gave way, his other knee shattering instantly under the immense, crushing weight.

The proud, arrogant knight was forced completely onto both knees, bowed low in front of the golden-haired stranger, forced to assume the exact same kneeling posture he had imposed upon the terrified citizens just minutes prior.

”N-No... mercy...” the Paladin wheezed, his voice breaking as the sheer physical pressure began to cave his silver breastplate inward.

His ribs cracked one by one, puncturing his lungs and filling his mouth with hot blood.

The high-and-mighty executioner of the Holy Church was now nothing more than a broken, sobbing mess, forced to bow in his own filth and blood while the commoners he had terrorized watched in stunned silence.

Manuses leaned down slightly, his golden eyes burning into the dark visor of the helmet.

”Where is your sky god now?” Manuses whispered, his voice a chilling blade against the Paladin’s ear. ”Why does he not reach down to save his faithful servant?”

The Paladin trembled uncontrollably, his mind utterly broken by the absolute, effortless dominance of the monster standing above him.

He was barely struggling to breathe, his lungs drowning in blood.

He raised his chin with the absolute last remnant of his strength, his blood-soaked visor glaring up at the approaching death.

He opened his mouth, trying to utter one final, desperate curse—

”I—”

SCHWING!

Manuses swept his hand across the air in a lightning-fast motion. A razor-thin blade of pure, concentrated physical wind sliced clean through the Paladin’s neck.

THUD.

The silver-armored head detached from the shoulders, bouncing twice on the cobblestones before rolling to a stop right near the feet of the battered young girl.

The headless torso remained kneeling for a brief second before collapsing sideways into the dark red pool, completely motionless.

The entire square was as silent as a graveyard.

Not a single soul dared to breathe.

The hundreds of citizens kneeling in the dirt were frozen in awe and absolute shock.

The terrifying monsters in silver armor who had slaughtered their families and ruled over them with absolute terror... had just been slaughtered like cattle by a single man.

Manuses slowly turned around. His obsidian trench coat whipped gently in the wind, completely untainted by a single drop of blood.

He walked calmly over to the battered, trembling young girl lying against the ruined stone wall.

He reached down with gentle, astonishing care, picking up a discarded silk cloak from a nearby stall and draping it softly over her bruised, exposed shoulders.

Then, Manuses turned his gaze to face the hundreds of frightened, weeping citizens of Oscros City.

He stood tall, his golden hair catching the sunlight, his voice echoing through every street, alley, and home in the entire district with divine, thunderous clarity:

”People of Northern Hashian! Hear me!” Manuses declared, his golden eyes sweeping over the kneeling crowd.

”The era of the Sky God’s tyranny and hypocritical bloodshed ends today! The Church of the God of Beast has arrived... and Lord Varanus, the true God of Beast and Men, is here to save you all!”