Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race

The sun blazed mercilessly over the golden dunes of the desert as the dry wind blew gusts of cutting sand. The suffocating heat made every breath a conscious effort, but there was no time for distractions.

Rudeus Greyrat stood firm, his sharp gaze scanning the sea of sand around him. The ground beneath trembled.

"Prepare yourselves, they're here!" he shouted, and the next moment, the creatures emerged.

From the depths of the desert, enormous silhouettes burst through the sandy surface. The Sand Worms—fifteen-meter-long monstrosities—rose with thunderous roars. Their protruding fangs gleamed under the sunlight, and within their cavernous mouths, hundreds of spiraling teeth spun, ready to tear apart anything in their path.

Without hesitation, Rudeus raised his hand, shaping mana in the air. With a shout, he launched his attack:

"HAAAAH!"

A highly compressed and rapidly spinning Stone Cannon shot forth like a meteor, cutting through the air before striking the head of one of the worms. The impact was devastating, the explosion of debris, flesh, and blood echoing across the battlefield. The beast roared before collapsing, its head obliterated.

"HAHAHAH! Excellent, Glass Cannon!" a rough, energetic voice resounded beside Rudeus.

Mortan, a red-skinned demon standing 2.5 meters tall, charged forward with fury. His twin cleavers gleamed under the scorching sun as he spun his body in a merciless dual strike. His sharp blade cleaved another worm in half, the creature convulsing violently before succumbing. He laughed maniacally as he tore through yet another opponent, the scent of blood thick in the dry air.

In the distance, reinforcements finally arrived. Larax, a dark-skinned warrior, led a strange group of fighters, each displaying unique skills. His feet dug into the sand as he unsheathed his scimitar, his eyes gleaming fiercely.

"Don't destroy the poison glands!" he called out, his voice vibrating with excitement. "Hahah! Kill them all!"

And then, chaos erupted.

Larax, a King-tier North God Style swordsman, became a slicing hurricane, weaving through the monsters with inhuman speed and precision. Every swing of his scimitar reaped flesh, the steel cutting through the beasts' bodies as if they were paper. His wild grin was mirrored by Mortan, who continued laughing amid the massacre, wielding his cleavers with relentless brutality.

Amid the mayhem, the young elf girl, Sylphy, planted her small feet into the sand, raising her wand with determination. Her heart pounded, but she did not hesitate.

"I-Ice… Ice Cannon!" she shouted.

A crystalline projectile shot from her wand, slicing through the air before striking one of the worms. The impact instantly froze part of the creature, slowing its movements just enough for Hector—the old swordsman with long gray hair—to deliver a clean strike, severing the beast's head from its body.

Hector flashed a gentle smile at her before returning to the fight. The beige-haired, voluptuous demon mage observed Sylphy and nodded approvingly.

"Well done, little Sylphy. Keep it up!" her voice rang encouragingly.

Rudeus wasted no time. He positioned himself strategically, launching Stone and Fire Cannons while casting Quagmire to trap the worms in muddy pits, making it easier for the melee fighters to finish them off. With each spell, he felt his mana flow with precision, his mind calculating the next steps.

The battlefield pulsed with life and death. A human swordswoman, fighting fiercely with sword and shield, was sent flying when one of the worms struck her from the side. She crashed heavily, her armor absorbing part of the impact, but her body was wounded. The monster lunged to finish her off, but Larax was already on the move. He slid in swiftly, blocking the attack with his blade and countering with a precise cut to the beast's jaw.

At the same time, Sylphy rushed in, propelled by wind magic, and landed beside the injured woman. Her hand glowed as she channeled her chantless healing magic, closing the swordswoman's wounds.

The battle raged on for several minutes, the worms' corpses piling up in the sand, staining the dunes red.

Spells streaked across the battlefield, ambushes erupted from below, and the warriors moved like gods of death. In the end, the few creatures that remained fled, retreating into the depths of the desert.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Larax bellowed in laughter, slapping his thigh in delight. "That was amazing!"

Mortan joined in, dragging his cleaver along the leg of a fallen worm to clean off the thick, sticky blood.

Larax turned to Rudeus, pointing at him with a grin still on his face.

"You did great this time, Glass Cannon! Your little girlfriend too!" He winked at Sylphy.

The elf instantly turned red, averting her gaze in embarrassment. Rudeus, on the other hand, frowned.

"Hey, man, I'm only seven!" he grumbled, crossing his arms. His nickname had become Glass Cannon—he had high attack power, but if he took a hit, his chances of survival were slim.

Larax stretched, cracking his shoulders before flashing a wide grin.

"You're almost eight. I lost my virginity at eight!" he said casually.

The demon mage rolled her eyes.

"Let's head back already. I'm almost out of mana," she said, her voice exhausted.

Larax clicked his tongue.

"Tch! Fine, fine. Gather all the glands and fangs in the bags. Move it!" he ordered, starting to collect the valuable materials from the carcasses.

And so, the group prepared to leave, carrying the spoils of their intense battle. The sun remained relentless in the sky.

It had been a few months since we were teleported from Buenna Village. Sylphy and I. It was confirmed—we were in Begaritt, the desert-filled continent.

But why hadn't we left?

Well… we had been kidnapped.

The leader of the Tyranny Tempest, Larax, made us members of his mercenary group. When he saw us, he said it would be convenient to have someone who could make it rain and build houses with magic. At the time, I decided to follow him, thinking it was the only way to find civilization, but now… I couldn't regret it more.

As I raised another temporary house for the group, I watched the others moving about, preparing the camp for another night in the desert. Larax sat on a pile of supplies, sharpening his scimitar, and it was to him that I directed my tired expression.

"How long do we have to stay in your group again?"

He lifted his gaze, furrowing his brow as if my question was the dumbest thing in the world.

"Didn't I already tell you? As long as I want!"

Sylphy, sitting near the campfire, stopped fiddling with her wand and looked at me with concern.

Larax stood up, his grin widening challengingly.

"Kid, you need to understand the law of the strong. I'm stronger, faster, and more aggressive than you. So, you're my subordinate! If you want to run away, try it. If you want to beat me, you're welcome to try."

I sighed. This guy really didn't take anything seriously.

He snapped his fingers and turned to Vidette, the demon mage of the group, his gaze filled with dubious intentions.

"Hey, Vidette, how about we head inside? I told the Glass Cannon to build that comfortable bed..."

The mage rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Before following him, she cast a sympathetic glance at me and Sylphy.

"Sorry about him, kids."

And with that, she disappeared into the makeshift house with Larax.

I sighed once again and sat down next to Sylphy. She kept her head lowered, clearly uncomfortable, but at least the girls and the old man were quite kind. I wasn't much different. My mind started drifting back to our previous escape attempt.

When we first met Larax and his group, he used an item that looked like a stamp to mark our hands. I didn't think much of it at the time, but after a month of him refusing to let us go, I gathered our money and ran away with Sylphy.

Less than 24 hours later, he found me. That's when I discovered the reason.

The mark on our hands was a tracker created by a magic item.

And, even worse, Larax had a Demon Eye. The Eye of Clairvoyance. He could see for miles, and in the desert, that advantage was even more absurd. The idea of escape seemed more and more impossible.

As I was lost in these thoughts, the 2.5-meter-tall, red-skinned demon, Mortan, laughed loudly as he roasted a massive scorpion over the fire. Beside him, old Hector and the human warrior drank from their flasks, chatting casually.

"Hey, Glass Cannon! Join us!" Mortan shouted, catching my attention.

Ugh, I really hated that nickname. Maybe because it was true... I glanced at Sylphy, who looked hesitant, but we still approached the group.

"Hey, why do you guys follow Larax?" I asked, crossing my arms.

The three of them laughed, as if my question was far too innocent.

Old Hector was the first to answer, smiling with nostalgia.

"I have a debt to his family. Larax's father helped me save my family, and in return, I swore to serve him and his descendants until the end of my days. And so I do. In fact, I'm the only one here with a noble reason."

Mortan let out a deep, guttural laugh before speaking.

"Me? Ahahaha! He found me. Beat me up and kidnapped me. Since then, I've never been able to escape."

The warrior beside them chuckled and added:

"Same here. But in my case, he just thought I was hot and wanted me in his harem. I wasn't beaten, just defeated."

I was shocked, and Sylphy looked even more worried. She nudged me and whispered:

"He won't want me too, will he...?"

The warrior laughed and waved a hand.

"No, no. He has a rule about children and women. He never hurts a child and never forces a woman into his bed."

I let out a sigh of relief, but my mind was still a mess.

This guy is insane, that's for sure!

How the hell did he manage to create such a harmonious atmosphere using such an absurd method?

Rudeus looked at the mercenaries around the fire, the flickering heat casting dancing shadows on their faces. He hesitated for a moment but couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"Have you guys never tried to join forces against him?" his voice cut through the night air, filled with uncertainty.

The momentary laughter ceased, and a palpable tension settled in. The once-relaxed faces turned serious. The old swordsman, Hector, leaned slightly forward, his eyes filled with experience and a hint of regret.

"Never suggest that again, kid," he said, his voice heavy. "Larax doesn't tolerate betrayal. If he senses he's being cornered, he won't hesitate. He'll fight to the death and then hunt down every last one who tried to take him down. Three from his previous group attempted it, and they're all dead."

Rudeus felt a chill run down his spine. "So that means... if it were a fair challenge, one-on-one, he wouldn't run?"

"That's what he says." Mortan, the red-skinned demon, answered with a sadistic grin. "But to this day, no one has managed to beat him."

The leather-armored warrior nodded. "There was once a man called the 'Desert Serpent.' They said he was a King-level warrior who had never lost a battle. He ruled over a large part of the desert. One day, he challenged Larax, thinking he could make him his subordinate." She crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on the fire. "It was his first and last defeat."

Rudeus swallowed hard. "You mean to say..."

Hector completed her thought. "They say that Kalman II, the second-generation North God himself, named him King of the North after that fight. That was sixteen years ago. Larax was only twenty-two at the time."

The weight of that information hit Rudeus like a rock. How could he possibly defeat someone like that? He had promised to take Sylphy home, but with each passing day, that promise seemed further away. He looked at the girl beside him, who had been silent the entire time. He could feel her body tense.

Sylphy gently squeezed his hand. "I believe Rudy can do it!"

Rudeus blinked, surprised. She was looking at him with conviction, without a hint of doubt. For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to say it didn't make sense, that it was impossible... but seeing the trust in her eyes made him reconsider. Before he could respond, Hector cleared his throat.

"Actually, the little girl is right, kid."

Everyone turned to him. Even Mortan seemed intrigued.

"What do you mean by that, old man?" the warrior asked.

Hector pointed at Rudeus with an analytical gaze. "You can use chantless magic, right? And I've never seen you run out of mana, no matter how long the battle lasts."

"I-I don't see how that helps me..." Rudeus muttered, but Hector interrupted him.

"It does help. If you can channel enough mana into a smaller spell, you could create something powerful enough to pierce his Touki. And if you find a way to keep your distance, you might be able to give him a real fight."

A silence fell over the group. Rudeus had never thought of it that way. The idea of facing him still seemed suicidal, but... he looked at Sylphy again. He had made a promise. No matter how impossible it seemed.

He took a deep breath and turned to Hector. "Old man, will you help me train?"

Mortan roared with laughter, slapping his knee. "I like this kid! He's got guts!"

The warrior smiled. "This could be interesting."

Hector let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. "It would be my pleasure, Rudeus. We start tomorrow morning."

Rudeus felt a cold weight settle in his stomach, but there was no turning back now. If he wanted to get out of here with Sylphy, he would have to become strong enough to face Larax. And that started now.

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I'm posting Mushoku Tensei: Old Dragon's Tale, because I know many haven't read it and a lot of information in this fanfic will be taken from there in the future, so enjoy! 

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