Starting Out As The God of Beasts

Without wasting a single moment, Mayor Henar unleashed the full authority of his office upon the panicked populace.

Mana-amplified messengers rode through every street, their loud voices booming across the stone streets as they read the Mayor’s emergency decree:

An immediate, absolute three-day lockdown and curfew throughout the entirety of Kaelos City.

No merchant could trade, no citizen could leave their home, and no cultivator was permitted to step onto the thoroughfares after dusk.

Anyone caught disobeying the mandate would be charged with high treason against the city and summarily executed on the spot.

Henar intended to use these three days to forcibly rectify the city’s narrative, crush the lingering fires, and regain absolute control before the Sect Elder’s deadline expired.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a blood-red haze over the silent, deserted streets, Mayor Henar summoned his remaining inner circle to his heavily guarded private mansion.

Originally, Kaelos City’s high-tier power structure was anchored by nine formidable Martial Masters.

Four had secretly aligned with Chief Strategist Ackher, four were fiercely loyal to Henar, and Ackher himself had stood as the ninth and strongest among them.

Now, in the span of a single afternoon, five of those Martial Masters had been mysteriously slaughtered.

Knowing with absolute certainty that he had not ordered Ackher’s subterranean execution, Henar was acutely aware that a terrifying truth was unfolding.

An unknown, lethal force was actively manipulating the fate of his city, carving through its high-tier combatants like helpless livestock.

The thought alone drove him into a towering, paranoid rage.

Inside the mansion’s opulent, oak-paneled council chamber, the four remaining loyalist councillors took their seats around a long obsidian table.

Mayor Henar sat at the very head, his face contorted into a mask of pure fury.

BANG!

Henar slammed his heavy fist onto the obsidian table, sending a violent shockwave through the wood that shattered the fine crystal wine glasses set before the councillors.

"What the hell is happening in my city?!" Henar roared, his bloodshot eyes sweeping over the four men. "Five Martial Masters butchered in an hour! Ackher and his entire faction wiped out! Speak! Are any of you secretly involved in this madness?!"

The four councillors winced, leaning back in sudden panic as they frantically shook their heads.

"M-Mayor Henar, please!" one of them stammered, holding up his trembling hands.

"We swear our complete allegiance to you! We may be Martial Masters, but none of us possess the terrifying strength required to silently assassinate five men of equal rank in a matter of minutes!"

Henar snickered bitterly, letting out a harsh, exhausted sigh as he slumped back into his tall leather throne.

"I know that already... None of you pathetic cowards have the spine or the talent for such a feat."

He rubbed his temples, his breathing heavy and ragged, before locking his sharp gaze onto a middle-aged councillor sitting near the center of the table.

"You," Henar barked, pointing a thick finger at the man in charge of Kaelos City’s external intelligence network. "Have any of our neighboring cities made a move? Is the Iron Clad Fortress or the Sun-Glow Marquis attempting a silent invasion by picking off our high-tier vanguard?!"

The intelligence councillor hastily bowed his head, shaking it with absolute conviction. "No, My Lord! Our border scouts and scrying arrays have reported zero movement from the neighboring territories.

No external city or rival faction is involved in this catastrophe."

Henar clicked his tongue in deep disgust, his internal organs boiling with unadulterated frustration.

If it wasn’t a political rival, and it wasn’t an invading force, then a silent, phantom apex predator was roaming his streets completely unchecked.

He stood up abruptly, leaning over the table as his aura flared dangerously.

"Listen to me carefully," Henar growled, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "My reputation has been dragged through the mud. The public thinks I’m a bloodthirsty tyrant executing my own council, and the Sect Elder has given me two days to clean up this disaster.

Within this three-day lockdown, you four will uncover the truth behind these assassinations."

He paused, his eyes narrowing into two slits of pure, ruthless intent.

"And if you cannot find any real evidence or locate the true killer... you will make one yourselves. Frame a rogue mercenary group, blame a fake beastman insurgency, fabricate whatever lie you must! But by the third morning, I will have a scapegoat pinned to the central plaza’s execution post to appease the public and satisfy the Sect!"

Without waiting for their response, Mayor Henar turned on his heel and stormed out of the council room, slamming the heavy iron-reinforced doors behind him in an explosive display of rage.

Left alone in the silent chamber, a heavy, suffocating atmosphere of panic settled over the remaining councillors.

Their faces were pale, their brows drenched in cold sweat as they realized the impossible burden placed upon their shoulders.

However, amidst the tense, shivering men, one figure remained strikingly calm.

Sitting at the far end of the obsidian table, Councillor Edwaris sat with his arms crossed neatly over his dark velvet robes.

While his colleagues quaked in fear, a subtle, sheepish smile slowly bloomed across his face.

Everything was proceeding precisely according to his master plan.

The Mayor’s count was flawed. It wasn’t five Martial Masters who had died today.

It was six.

The real Councillor Edwaris had been ambushed and slaughtered in his mansion just an hour ago, his lifeless corpse buried deep beneath an undisclosed, forgotten ruin outside the district walls.

And the man currently sitting in his chair, wearing his face, his clothes, and perfectly mimicking his breath... was none other than Roy.

Under the seamless disguise cast by his divine authority, Roy glanced around the table at the trembling human councillors, his golden-crimson eyes hidden behind a mask of mortal skin.

’Shackle your own city, Henar,’ Roy thought softly, his hidden smile widening in the shadows.

’Lock the gates, trap your people, and gather your remaining strength in one place. You are only building your own tomb.’