Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The journey from the luxurious guest quarters to the Grand Frost Sanctum felt entirely different this time, though the heavy iron guards along the corridor noticed nothing amiss.

The small, red-furred Rabbit-kin walked with a rigid, mechanical precision.

His long, tufted ears were pinned back, and his dark eyes were wide and glazed, reflecting the torchlight with a flat, vacant compliance.

Behind that furry brow, the craven, self-serving personality of the traitor Elijah had been systematically purged.

Roy’s divine authority of Mindcraft had swept through his neural pathways like a localized virus, scrubbing away every ounce of independent greed and replacing the blank space with a single, absolute command:

Serve the God of Beasts.

The massive obsidian doors ground open, and Elijah stepped into the colossal ice-rimed audience chamber.

The towering Troll King sat upon his throne of jagged ice, thick sheets of frost mist pouring from his tusked jaw.

His slitted, frost-white eyes drifted down to the tiny rabbit kneeling on the stone steps below.

The ambient temperature in the room plummeted, a light dusting of snow falling around the throne as the monarch’s displeasure manifested physically.

"The rabbit returns without his quarry," the Troll King rumbled, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "My armies tore the iron foundry to splinters and found nothing but cold ash. Speak, Elijah!"

The Troll King’s voice thundered across the audience chamber.

"Why shouldn’t I crush your skull with my feet right now?"

Elijah pressed his forehead against the freezing stone floor, his voice coming out smooth, hollow, and entirely devoid of his previous panic.

"The fault is mine, Your Majesty. One of the Mandraxx shadows—a cunning Wolf-kin—noticed a slight shift in the patrol routes. She suspected my movements and fed the rest a false coordinate at the eleventh hour to test my loyalty."

The Troll King leaned forward, resting his massive chin on a clawed fist. "Then your utility is over. There’s no need to keep you alive any longer."

"I ask for one final chance to prove myself, Sire," Elijah replied, lifting his head with an artificial expression of absolute confidence.

"The spies are panicking. They are currently scattered and well hidden in the lower drainage sectors" he paused for a second.

"But have a way that can pin down their exact positions within the next two days. Give me another chance"

"Please" Elijah bowed before the Troll King.

The Troll King stared down at the small beastman, searching for any sign of deception.

But beneath the Mindcraft, Elijah’s pulse was mathematically perfect.

"Very well," the King rumbled, a low, cruel chuckle vibrating in his chest. "One more chance"

"Fail me again, and your mana core will be used to fuel the altar."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Elijah bowed deeply.

"To ensure the execution is absolute and no information leaks into the streets, I beg that you grant me a dedicated hunting squad." he said.

"A single cultivator Troll captain to lead the muscle, with two dozen Orcs, Ogres, and Goblins to flush them out of their hideouts."

"Granted," the Troll King waved a massive, blue-skinned hand. "Captain Abana will report to your chambers by the turn of the glass."

"Do not waste my steel."

**

An hour later, the heavy curtains of Elijah’s private bedroom were pushed aside.

A tall, arrogant Troll captain stepped into the warmth of the room.

He was a cultivator of the Martial Master realm.

His blue skin was heavily scarred, and his frost-halberd pulsed with a sharp, lethal mana.

He looked down at the empty silk cushions, his brow furrowing. "Where is the rabbit? We march in ten—"

The Troll captain’s words died in his throat.

The air in the bedroom violently fractured, and a suffocating, pitch-black void erupted from the center of the room.

Before the captain could even raise his halberd or release his Master-tier aura, a pair of glowing, dual-colored golden-crimson eyes materialized in the dark.

Roy stepped forward, his tailored black coat snapping against the sudden localized hurricane.

With an almost casual tilt of his head, a shockwave of raw, divine crimson energy detonated forward.

CRACK.

The absolute gravity of the strike slammed into the Troll captain, instantly crushing his throat and pinning his massive frame to the floorboards before he could utter a single grunt.

Roy’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the captain’s skull, and with a swift, merciless twist, the warrior’s life force was completely extinguished.

The gory remains of the captain vanished into the system’s database, and a soft ripple of red data particles dissolved into the air.

In his place stood a perfect, towering replication of Captain Abana, frost-halberd and all.

Roy stretched his new, long blue arms, testing the weight of the frame, a cold smile cutting through his new tusked visage.

The hunting squad was now entirely his to command.

Deep within the dark, freezing subterranean tunnel beneath the city’s roots, three shadows were gathered in a tense, hushed huddle.

Nurex stood with his back to the icy wall, his newly forged Martial Warrior mana core humming with defensive potential.

Beside him stood Ivon, her fingers restlessly twitching over her bone-handled dagger, while Yuri, the coarse-furred Hyena-kin, sat on a rusted iron barrel, methodically testing the edge of her bone cleaver against her thumb.

"The co-ordinates you gave Elijah was raided," Yuri sighed, her yellow eyes shifting between the other two.

"Hundreds of guards. Orcs, Ogres, Trolls. If we had gone there, we would be dead, I’d be a corpse in the pit right now."

"That goddamned rabbit sold us out."

"Elijah’s role in Mandraxx has been compromised for a long time," Nurex said calmly, his voice steady. "He seeks power and authority..."

"But that greed is the only reason why he is dead" Nurex sighed.

"He is dead?" Yuri questioned.

"I don’t know" Nurex shrugged. "What I do know is that the Apostle paid the traitor a visit"

"I see" Yuri exhaled a deep sigh.

"And what now?" Ivon asked, her large wolf ears twitching as she looked toward the dark tunnel mouth.

"We are still trapped in the lower rings, the vanguard are searching for us, and the entire city is on high lockdown."

A soft, elegant ripple of red data particles suddenly dissolved into the damp air right in the center of their circle.

The three beastmen snapped into defensive stances, weapons drawn, but they froze instantly as the shifting static cleared.

Standing before them in his true human form was Roy.

His long, golden hair cascaded down past his waist, and his golden-crimson eyes flared with a brilliant, dangerous intelligence in the gloom.

Noticing that he had appeared in his human form, Roy transformed into Jarden Rome.

But not without deleting the memories of his human form from their minds.

"Now," Roy murmured, slipping his hands smoothly back into the pockets of his black coat as a slow smile cut through the dark.

"All preparations have been made" Roy chuckled.

"It’s time to throw Norona City into chaos"