Starting Out As The God of Beasts

Word of the execution in Oscros City tore through the Northern Hashian Mountains like a sudden, violent tempest.

Just as Roy had meticulously calculated, the news of the Grey Paladin’s gruesome, effortless death spread like wildfire from alley to alley, market square to market square, eventually spilling across the borders of all three major cities.

What the Church of the God of the Sky had spent days trying to control was completely shattered in a single afternoon.

The streets hummed with frantic, hushed whispers.

The rumors were no longer spoken in quiet, fearful whimpers behind locked doors; they were passed swiftly among the populace with a burning, desperate hope.

The citizens spoke openly of how the silver-clad ”holy envoys” were nothing more than oppressive butcherers, executing innocent commoners and framing them as heretics simply to satisfy their bloodlust.

And then, the rumors spoke of him.

They whispered tales of a handsome, golden-haired warrior draped in black—a noble follower of the God of Beast who had descended like a divine protector.

He had shattered the executioner’s limbs, brought the arrogant Paladin to his knees, and saved a defenseless young girl from a fate worse than death.

Most importantly, the warrior’s thunderous declaration still echoed through the hearts of every oppressed mortal across the province:

Lord Varanus, the God of Beast and Men, is here to save you all.

The declaration was a direct, uncompromising line drawn in the dirt.

Every citizen, merchant, and cultivator within the three cities realized the terrifying truth—the quiet, hidden search was over.

A full-scale, violent, and bloody religious war was about to erupt right over their heads.

***

Meanwhile, inside the grand estate requisitioned by the Holy Church within the Glorious Mythical Sect, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

BANG!

A heavy, marble tea table shattered into fine white powder as High Priest Arnold slammed his fist down with blind, unbridled fury.

The sudden impact sent fragments of stone flying across the lavish guest chamber, tearing through delicate silk tapestries and embedding themselves deep into the oak paneling.

”Useless! Absolute, brainless, incompetent trash!” Priest Arnold roared, his usually calm, picturesque face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage.

The red-haired cleric breathed heavily, his chest heaving under his pristine, white-and-gold holy robes.

Gone was the smooth, calculating composure he had displayed on the mountain cliff before the Peerless Supreme Elder.

His blue eyes burned with a chaotic, psychotic fury as he kicked a carved wooden chair across the room, sending it crashing into a vanity mirror in a shower of glittering glass.

He paced back and forth like a caged beast, his hands clenching and unclenching so hard his knuckles turned stark white.

He struck the solid stone wall beside him with his bare palm, cracking the masonry, completely unbothered by the sharp pain radiating through his hand.

Standing at the center of the ruined room was Inspector Lyrex.

The commander of the Grey Paladins stood completely motionless, his head bowed low in deep, humiliating shame.

His heavy silver armor was immaculate, yet he looked smaller, stripped of all the terrifying aura he had displayed when strutting through the mortal streets.

After several agonizing minutes of destructive fury, Priest Arnold finally stopped his tirade.

He stood over a pile of broken furniture, breathing through his nose, his eyes locking onto the silent Paladin commander with lethal intensity.

”Tell me, Lyrex...” Priest Arnold whispered, his voice dropping into a raspy, terrifyingly cold register. ”Tell me the reports reaching my ears are nothing more than wild, hysterical fabrications from lowborn pigs. Tell me one of my senior Paladins was not slaughtered and humiliated in broad daylight.”

Inspector Lyrex swallowed hard, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the blood-stained rug beneath his boots.

”The... the reports are true, Your Eminence,” Lyrex spoke, his voice tight and strained.

”I went to the commercial square in Oscros City personally. I interrogated dozens of eyewitnesses... those who survived.”

”Then why are those rumors still walking?!” Arnold snarled, taking a sharp step forward.

”Why is every tavern in this wretched mountain range singing praises to a beastly heretic?!”

”I tried to bury it, Your Eminence!” Lyrex pleaded, raising his head slightly, desperation creeping into his voice.

”The moment I arrived, I ordered a complete lockdown of the district! I executed three entire families who witnessed the event to stop the news from spreading! But... but it was already too late! The story had already jumped the city walls before my men could even seal the gates!”

Lyrex bowed his head even lower, his fist clenching against his thigh. ”No matter how many mortals we put to the sword now, we cannot stop the tongues from wagging. Killing more commoners... it is only making the rumors spread faster.

The people are no longer just afraid of us, Your Eminence... they are actively waiting for the heretics to return.”

”Silence!” Arnold barked, his eyes narrowing into two razor-thin slits.

He closed his eyes, taking a long, ragged breath to force his raging heart to slow down.

He wiped a streak of sweat from his pale forehead, his mind racing through the political disaster unfolding around him.

The image of the Holy Church as absolute, invincible rulers had been cracked. The sheep were beginning to look at the slaughterers with defiance.

Priest Arnold opened his eyes, a dark, murderous resolve hardening his features.

”If the rats want to step out of the dark and claim these lands, then we shall burn the entire forest to hunt them down,” Arnold said softly, stepping closer to Lyrex.

”You will deploy every remaining squad under your command into the streets immediately. I want the search parameters tripled.”

”Your Eminence?” Lyrex blinked, hesitant. ”If we increase the pressure, the civilian casualties will—”

”I do not care!” Arnold shouted, his voice echoing off the broken walls.

”Do you think I care about the lives of a few thousand mundane ants?! Since the Church of the God of Beast has openly declared their presence, it means their cells and their Apostle are actively lurking right beneath our noses inside those three cities!”

Arnold reached out, grabbing Lyrex by his steel collar plate and pulling the massive Paladin down until they were eye-to-eye.

”Become more aggressive, Lyrex,” Arnold hissed, his breath hot against the Paladin’s visor. ”Kicking doors is no longer enough. Drag whole streets into the squares! Put entire neighborhoods to the torch if you have to! I do not care if ten thousand mundane citizens die in the dirt... I need results! I need the severed heads of those beast-worshiping bastards brought to my feet!”

Arnold released his grip, shoving the Paladin commander backward.

”Remember where you stand, Inspector,” Arnold warned, his voice laced with a chilling threat.

”His Eminence, Cardinal Ryoger, will arrive with the primary holy vanguard in less than three days. If he arrives to find this region controlled by rumors and heretical beasts... it will not just be my position on the line.

I will personally flay you alive and offer your soul to the sky before the Cardinal even sets foot off his carriage. Do you understand me?”

A cold shudder ran down Inspector Lyrex’s spine.

He snapped his feet together, slamming his gauntlet over his chest plate in a rigid, desperate salute.

”Understood, High Priest!” Lyrex declared firmly. ”I will not fail you again!”

Without another word, the Paladin turned on his heel and rushed out of the ruined chamber, his heavy steel boots echoing down the hallway as he prepared to unleash total, unrestrained hell upon the three cities.

Left alone in the wrecked room, Priest Arnold stood among the debris, his face slowly smoothing back into a chilling, twisted smile as he looked out the window toward Mount Ryogoku.

”Let us see how long your ’protector’ stays in the shadows...” Arnold whispered to the wind.