Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race

Rygar was atop a huge wall, his eyes scanning the vast fortress he had built. The wind blew fiercely that morning, causing his clothes to billow as he observed the impressive growth of the Iron Legion's base. What was once merely a military encampment had now become practically a small city.

Stone buildings lined the newly formed streets, housing shops, warehouses, dormitories, and even advanced training areas. Tinaver, which had once been only a medium-sized city, was now flourishing as a strategic commercial center, attracting merchants from various regions due to its growing population and the reputation of the Legion.

Rygar crossed his arms and took a deep breath. Four months had passed since the attack on the Joylore Estate, and in that time, many things had changed. Milis continued to refuse any negotiations with the Iron Legion. The Temple Order wanted him dead, the Instruction Order didn't like him, and the Church Order remained neutral. The situation was unstable but, for now, contained.

He knew he couldn't stay there to defend the Legion forever. His decision was made: in a month, he would depart. The plan was set—he, Ghislaine, Eris, Eidar, and Skoll would travel to the Asura Kingdom. Along the way, Eidar would remain at the Water God Style dojo, and if all went well, Ghislaine and Eris would stay in Fitoa. Rygar would then continue with Skoll to the Sword Sanctuary.

But before leaving, he needed to ensure that the Legion was prepared for what was to come. He knew that his presence, along with Ghislaine's, was one of the greatest deterrents against external attacks. Although Milis was displeased, they dared not make a move against the Legion, for he was essentially a walking nuclear bomb. But once he left, that threat would diminish drastically.

With that in mind, he took preventive measures. He sent a letter to Kilian and Gustav in the Doldia tribe, requesting fifty experienced warriors to reinforce the Legion's security. They were already on their way. He also asked all the allied bestial tribes to send at least a few warriors.

Rygar pondered his strategy. The Legion had grown by absorbing various tribes and offering protection, making its overall strength formidable. With the complete destruction of the Black Troll group, the slave trade in the region had become nearly impossible. But that created new problems. Many nobles in Milis were dissatisfied because the Sacred Sword route, which had once been crucial for the slave trade, was now virtually blocked.

He narrowed his eyes into the distance, immersed in thought. He needed to reach the Sword Sanctuary as quickly as possible.

Ghislaine trained with him daily, but I didn't notice any improvement in my control of Touki. She could feel the flow of her energy, but something seemed misaligned, disconnected. And it wasn't due to a lack of instruction—Ghislaine was an exceptional master. The problem seemed to lie within himself.

---

The dense forest vibrated with the sounds of wildlife, but one sound stood out. Heavy yet agile steps cut through the vegetation as a huge monkey, about four meters tall, sprinted through the low foliage. Its body was covered in red fur with flaming orange stripes that looked like live embers. Every movement demonstrated supernatural agility, but also severe exhaustion. Deep wounds stained its fur with dried blood, and its wild eyes showed pure fatigue. It had fought for its life, and its body bore the marks of that brutal battle.

Suddenly, the sky lit up. A violent flash tore through the trees, and a colossal lightning bolt descended from the heavens, striking the beast dead center. A deafening roar echoed through the forest as the monkey let out a desperate howl of pain. But the bolt did not stop—it pulsed, burning its body, leaving a charred trail where lush vegetation once stood.

When the electricity finally dissipated, the monkey's body was unrecognizable. Its skin was scorched, smoke rising from it, and its muscles trembled involuntarily from the residual electricity still coursing through its form. Yet it was still standing, staggering, trying to resist. Its eyes burned with one final spark of defiance—

Harvest!

In an instant, a reddish blade flashed through the air. In the blink of an eye, the creature's head rolled to the ground. Its body fell to its knees before finally collapsing.

Ghislaine Dedoldia, holding her sword, stood firm beside the corpse. Her expression was impassive, as if none of it mattered.

Rygar arrived shortly after, approaching the body. He crouched down and retrieved the magical stone from the creature's chest, analyzing it with a clinical gaze. "This is the third one. It should be enough."

He took the S-class magical stone in his hands and stored it away.

Ghislaine remained silent, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

Rygar looked up at her. "Let's go back."

Without saying another word, they both vanished in a blur, sprinting back to the Iron Legion's base.

When they arrived, they were met by an unexpected sound—a commotion in the central square. Rygar and Ghislaine exchanged a brief glance before heading over, finding a restless crowd.

As they approached, Rygar began to pick up fragments of the argument:

"What right does a brat of ten or eleven have to give me orders?!"

At the center of the commotion stood a tall man with dark skin, covered in orange fur. He was shirtless, his muscular body on full display. A striped tiger's tail swayed behind him, and his pointed ears twitched in irritation. His gaze burned with fury.

Rygar crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Any problem?"

The tiger-man turned and sneered. "Oh, it's you? Great! For the rights of leadership in the Iron Legion, I challenge you to a duel!"

Rygar maintained a neutral expression. "And what do you have to offer in return?"

The man hesitated, his posture rigid, clearly taken by surprise.

"I… I will give you my loyalty!" he declared, pounding his chest.

Rygar looked at him as if he were examining an insect. "Do you think you're worth as much as the entire Iron Legion?"

A vein pulsed on the tiger-man's forehead. His face twisted in indignation, and he growled before furiously advancing. "Enough with the pretty words! Fight like a man!"

Rygar sighed. In the next instant, his body glowed and he vanished.

Flash step.

Before his challenger could react, Rygar reappeared above him and delivered a powerful kick. The impact sent the tiger-man sprawling to the ground, forming a small crater in the earth. He groaned, nearly unconscious, his eyes glassy.

Rygar scanned the crowd. Silence took over. He lifted a foot and pressed the defeated man's head to the ground.

"Anyone else?"

The audience hesitated. No one spoke.

Rygar withdrew his foot and continued walking without looking back. Such incidents had become common ever since Kilian absorbed the wild tribes. Many warriors from those tribes were dissatisfied with being under the command of someone younger and sought to challenge him.

But if they thought they could face him… they were gravely mistaken.

As Rygar was leaving, a new voice emerged from the crowd:

"I'd like to give it a try…"

Rygar stopped and turned, curious.

Among the crowd, a familiar face appeared—a tall, steadfast warrior with a determined look.

Weys Adoldia.

His deep dark brown hair framed a resolute face, while his intense red eyes radiated focus. His ears, set on the sides of his face, added a distinctive touch.

Rygar felt his interest ignite instantly.

He had recently discovered that Weys had become a Sword Saint.

That… could be interesting.

Weys assumed the classic stance for wielding the Longsword of Light, while Rygar adjusted his own posture, preparing for the duel. A heavy silence hung between them, as if the very air around them had hardened in anticipation. Then, at the same moment, both advanced.

However, Rygar, combining his Flash Step with his overwhelming physical strength and a considerable increase in Touki, outpaced Weys by a wide margin. Even so, he could perceive the high level of skill in his opponent. No advanced-level fighter could react so easily. Still, Weys held his ground, countering the attack with precision and sharp instincts. A nearly imperceptible smile formed on Rygar's lips—he respected warriors who fought without hesitation.

They moved past each other like samurai. Rygar remained unscathed, but a small cut appeared on Weys' neck. Rygar then turned and recognized him, congratulating him with an evaluative look.

"You've grown much stronger, Weys!" With a firm nod, he added, "Welcome."

Weys seemed proud to have been recognized, and said, "Thank you."

The influx of new members to the Iron Legion was enormous. The number of warriors was growing daily, increasing the organization's strength and influence. The arrival of the Doldia further reinforced this growth. As Rygar looked at the new faces, he felt the weight of responsibility increasing. He knew that their rapid expansion would not go unnoticed by the watchful eyes of Milis.

Despite the wealth they had accumulated—whether through attacks on slave bases or through mercenary work as adventurers, blacksmiths, and hunters—the Legion's expenses were still high. Yet, slowly, the internal economy was stabilizing. Their numbers were already enough to make even Milis hesitate before attacking them. The Legion was absorbing tribes from the Great Forest, receiving reinforcements from the Doldia and the dwarves, and rescuing and integrating former slaves into its structure. The growth was overwhelming.

But Rygar knew that, sooner or later, this growth would provoke a response. Milis could not ignore them for much longer. The first move would come soon.

Even so, he couldn't delay his journey to the Sword Sanctuary. His control over his Touki was unbalanced, and that needed to be resolved before it became a fatal problem.

He looked at the Iron Legion's base one last time that day. In two weeks, he would depart. And until then, he would ensure that everyone was prepared for what was to come.

---

Rygar observed the group gathered before him, the dust still hanging in the air after the intense training session. The battlefield lay in ruins, with signs of the simulated combat scattered everywhere. Joseph, the group's leader, took a deep breath as the other members regained their composure.

"The lack of explosive power has now been compensated for by Weys," Rygar said, his eyes scrutinizing the faces of the warriors. "With that, you will initially be our primary hunting group, until the other team becomes more synchronized."

The fighters nodded, absorbing the decision. Joseph was the first to speak, his voice filled with respect and determination.

"Thank you for your trust." He then turned to Weys, the Doldia warrior who had recently joined the group. Since his arrival, Weys had become a standout figure in the Legion—not only for his strength but also for being a Sword Saint, the same legendary class as Ghislaine and Rygar.

"You really made an impression, Weys," Joseph commented with a half-smile. "Your name is on everyone's lips."

The man let out a small laugh and crossed his arms.

Rygar didn't linger to follow the conversation, as he had other matters to attend to. He walked toward Brightstone's forge, where the smell of molten metal and hot embers filled the air. Barely had he stepped into the rustic, functional space when the gruff, direct voice of the dwarf blacksmith greeted him.

"Hey, what are the odds we get massacred by Milis in your absence?"

Rygar let out a short laugh, crossing his arms. "Almost zero. Even if there's a battle, many will escape alive."

Brightstone clicked his tongue, his gaze shifting to a bench where three S-class magical stones rested. He looked at them with a gleam in his eyes, clearly pleased with what he had in hand.

"At least I have three of these beauties," he said, running his thick hand over one of the gleaming stones before looking up at Rygar. "Which sword do you want me to enchant first?"

Rygar already had an answer ready. "Taes Dedoldia. But he asked the dwarves to forge a new one with Erathium, so you'll have to wait."

Brightstone mumbled something inaudible before nodding his head. "Alright, alright. I'll keep myself busy with other things until then."

Leaving the forge, Rygar made his way to one of the training dojos. The sound of clashing swords echoed in the air even before he approached. Upon entering, he saw Ghislaine watching closely as Eris executed rapid, powerful strikes. It was impressive how much the girl had evolved in such a short time.

"She's advancing very quickly," Rygar murmured to himself. "At this rate, when she's ten years old, she'll be very close to advanced level."

Ghislaine looked at him and gave a slight nod—a silent gesture of acknowledgment. Eris, noticing Rygar's presence, narrowed her eyes and intensified her efforts, as if eager to display her strength. A discreet smile formed on her lips before Rygar entered the dojo and joined the training.

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