Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The wind atop the highest cliff of the Cathedral of the God of Beasts swept past Roy, carrying the scent of rich soil, freshly cut timber, and the hum of a kingdom being born.

Standing on the edge of the stone overlook, his gaze drifted downward toward the sweeping panorama of the Holy City.

What was once a small, desperate sanctuary tucked away in the arid wilderness had transformed into a sprawling metropolis of gleaming white Varanite towers, bustling plazas, and wide, immaculate avenues.

Every hour, thousands of refugees, merchants, and travelers streamed through the city gates, their voices blending into a continuous, vibrant roar of newly found life.

Roy looked out over the horizon, his gold-crimson flecked eyes catching the distant shimmer of the Hudeii Desert.

He still held the last remaining drops of the Sanctuary Recreator Elixir stored deep within his spatial ring.

He had deliberately withheld applying the divine terraforming potion to the remaining reaches of the desert.

Until Raksha City formally submitted to Varania’s banner, reshaping their domain’s geography would be premature.

Yet, even without the elixir’s full deployment, his divine core vibrated with continuous, rhythmic surges of energy.

Every minute, every second, the ambient flow of Faith Energy grew denser.

Hundreds—thousands—of souls across the annexed lands were turning their devotion toward the God of Beasts.

Roy could feel the golden threads of their belief snapping into place within his origin core.

’At this current rate,’ Roy calculated silently, feeling the warmth of the divine energy pooling in his chest, ’I will easily surpass the ten thousand true followers requirement before the month ends.’

Ten thousand devout believers.

That was the crucial milestone required to kindle a true divine flame and ascend completely into the realm of a True God.

Yet, as he stared down at the burgeoning empire below, a shadow of contemplative doubt crossed his mind.

Should he ascend so soon?

This was only his very first year upon the mortal plane.

Under the conditions given to him by the Adminstrators, he had nine full years remaining before he would be forced to permanently leave the mortal realm.

Ascending to a True God now would immediately bind him to high-tier cosmic laws, drawing the undivided, hostile attention of the celestial pantheons—including the Orthodox Faction led by the God of Light.

Moreover, his eyes were not confined to the sands of the Hudeii Desert.

Beyond this arid frontier stretched the vast, dangerous, and resource-rich Ten Continents.

He had an absolute deal with Telvanus, the God of Information, and the secrets buried across those massive continents were vital to unlocking the remaining two innate authorities locked within his Divine Domain: Ruler of Beasts.

To ascend early meant abandoning the vast sandbox of the mortal world before he had thoroughly plundered its secrets.

"Lord Jarden."

A soft, respectful voice shattered the silence, pulling Roy from the depths of his strategic thoughts.

He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Duchess Alisa had stepped onto the open-air cliff, standing a few paces behind him with her head bowed in deep reverence.

"Alisa," Roy replied, his deep voice carrying over the wind as he turned his wolf-like profile toward her.

"What brings you to the high peak?"

"The diplomatic arrival from Raksha City," Alisa announced, her tone solemn. "The delegation has officially entered the outer courtyard."

Roy’s brow furrowed slightly as he picked up on her phrasing. "Delegation? How many did they send to negotiate their submission?"

"Only one, my Lord," Alisa replied, her expression tightening. "From our intelligence network’s swift investigation, this solitary delegate is the absolute head of Raksha City himself. He traveled alone."

"The head of the city came by himself?" Roy muttered, turning his full body around.

"Yes," Alisa confirmed, her blue eyes flashing with a mix of awe and caution. "He is the Grand Elder of Raksha City... and a bonafide Martial Lord."

"A Martial Lord?"

Roy’s gold-crimson flecked eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

A cold, calculating flicker of surprise passed through his mind.

A Martial Lord was a warrior who had shattered the mortal ceiling, standing at the absolute pinnacle of physical cultivation—a middle-tier cultivation stage.

For such a powerhouse to remain entirely undetected, tucked away in the isolated corners of the Hudeii Desert all this time, was an anomaly he had not anticipated.

"Interesting," Roy murmured, a dark, intrigued smile touching his lips. "A solitary tyrant coming to inspect the new power of the desert. Let us see what this Martial Lord desires."

Without another word, Roy stepped off the cliff ledge, his crimson form blurring as he and Alisa descended down the winding stairways of the Cathedral, making their way directly toward the heart of governance:

The Supreme Assembly.

Inside the grand chamber of the Supreme Assembly, the air was thick with tension.

The room was fully occupied.

Every Duke—Manuses of House Ryodor, Croak of House Mydar, and the leaders of House Pjador and House Fenrir—sat along the massive obsidian table.

Their faces were taut, their hands resting near their arms, their gazes locked onto the single figure standing in the center of the hall.

CLANG!

The heavy, reinforced iron doors swung wide, echoing through the cavernous chamber like a battle drum.

Roy strode into the assembly hall, his crimson wolf-man form looming tall and broad.

Alisa followed closely half a step behind him, her hand resting on the hilt of her ceremonial blade.

The second Roy’s tall, dark-red form passed the threshold, every seated Duke pushed back their chairs in unison, rising to their feet with an immediate, synchronized bow of absolute reverence.

Except for one..

The solitary delegate from Raksha City had already been standing.

As the doors clanged open, he turned slowly on his heel to face the entrance, completely ignoring the grand display of noble submission around him.

Roy’s dual golden-crimson eyes locked onto the visitor.

Standing in the center of the hall was a beast-man of extraordinary, terrifying presence—a Violet-Eagle man.

He was exceptionally tall, easily matching Roy’s imposing height, with a broad, muscular frame encased in sleek, obsidian-and-purple battle armor.

Powerful, razor-sharp purple feathers lined his collar and stretched down his back like a mantle of royalty, shimmering with an ethereal, metallic sheen.

Yet despite his avian lineage, his face was striking—an intensely handsome, chiseled human face framed by dark, sharp features, dominated by a pair of piercing, brilliant purple eyes.

The moment Roy stepped into the room, a violent, suffocating pressure erupted from the Violet-Eagle man.

It was not divine essence, nor was it magic.

It was the absolute, raw, suffocating aura of a true Martial Lord—a domain of sheer physical weight that made the air in the chamber instantly grow heavy, making the surrounding stone walls groan under the quiet force of his presence..

The Grand Elder of Raksha smirked, his brilliant purple eyes locking directly onto Roy’s crimson wolf form without a single trace of fear or deference.

"So," the Violet-Eagle man spoke, his voice ringing out like the sharp strike of steel on iron, echoing with boundless arrogance.

"You are the apostle of that mysterious god everyone in the desert is bowing to."