Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race-Chapter 95 - Why Am I Always Fighting Armies?

Prime Minister Yaylol did not hesitate when he saw Rygar free from the chains.

With a cautious gaze, he began to leave the place without even waiting for a single word from the beast warrior.

Even as a North Saint, he wasn't going to stay and help in any battle.

But then—a roar, more like a living thunderclap, shook the very foundations of the hall.

A devastating shockwave, created by Howling Magic, swept through everything around.

Many warriors had prepared for this technique; after all, they knew they would be fighting Rygar. But something was wrong—it was stronger, far stronger than usual.

Rygar had used this magic at a level even he had never reached before.

Even with their ears covered, the sound pierced into their minds and shook their brains. Even the most experienced warriors were thrown into the air like rag dolls, some foaming at the mouth, some passing out before they even hit the ground.

The hall trembled.

Rygar lifted his gaze to the top of the staircase. He was in the lower part of the hall.

He didn't know where this place was. These strange magical chains had seemed to pull him from the Magic Tower, and he felt he was no longer there.

Amid the chaos and the muffled sounds of bodies hitting the floor, he looked toward those behind the trap. Prime Minister Yaylol Wisebond. And the Court Mage, whom Rygar assumed to be the King's brother, Livandrei Kingdragon.

He did not wait a moment longer and advanced.

The wooden floor behind him cracked like paper under the explosion of his speed.

Each step shattered the ground. Each movement was a blur of speed and fury. His swords were unsheathed in an instant—Tsukikage in his right hand and Nighthinter in his left.

But then—

A red flash. A thin blade flew straight for his eye.

Rygar leaped backward, surprised that he hadn't noticed the enemy's approach, dodging with a Flash Step.

A knight in red armor blocked his path—Hasjulian, the North King.

He shouted, "Block him here! Protect the Prime Minister and Lord Livandrei!"

After saying that, he ran into the midst of the other warriors, and his presence grew fainter as he blended into the crowd.

The warriors regained their momentum, throwing themselves at Rygar like a tidal wave of blades and steel.

The mages in the back began chanting spells, their incantations echoing through the hall amid the confusion:

"Furious spirit of flames, bastard of hell! Rise to the land of man and swing your fist! Strike down my sworn enemy and consum—"

"Answer my call, God of Darkness, and destroy my enemy! Stone Cannon!"

Rygar only sighed. The Leader's Decapitation technique was his favorite since it ended fights almost instantly. But if this was how it was going to be, so be it.

He activated his Magic Eye and vanished with a Flash Step.

In the blink of an eye, he was between two swordsmen leading the vanguard.

He used the Longsword of Light. One strike. One's head flew off, his body collapsing lifelessly.

The second tried to react—but Rygar had already pierced his heart with the black blade before he could even comprehend his own death. Blood sprayed in a macabre arc.

The moment they realized he was in their midst, he jumped.

Spells crashed against the ground where he had been just moments before.

Explosions tore through the air, the heat scorching the edges of his pants.

He floated among his enemies, spinning through the air like a swift and merciless demon. The moment he touched the ground again, it cracked, and hardened earth spikes erupted around him, impaling at least three nearby warriors.

One enemy warrior dashed through his allies with extreme speed, executing the familiar Longsword of Light with masterful precision—a Sword Saint from the Dragon King Kingdom.

But Rygar was no easy target.

Another leap, another burst of speed, and he evaded the Saint.

He was a lethal blur, cutting through the battlefield like an invisible reaper.

His movements were too fast to follow with the naked eye. Longsword of Light gleamed, sweeping the air with cuts so fast they seemed to tear through reality itself.

Tsukikage danced in flames, and with a single arc, he cleaved an enemy in half. The body exploded in fire, the wave of heat setting everything around ablaze and throwing the next warriors back with its shockwave.

The battlefield was thrown into chaos by a single enemy.

Some warriors panicked. The power gap was undeniable.

With every step, Rygar devastated entire ranks, his fierce smile never wavering.

One of the knights turned to flee—only to be split in half by a wind blade before he could take three steps.

Another fell to his knees, begging for his life—only for his head to roll across the floor as Rygar blurred past.

Stone Cannons fired in his direction.

Fireballs tore through the air.

Pillars of flame rose in a desperate attempt to stop him.

But nothing could halt his advance.

He sliced through the spells mid-air using Flow, cutting the magic apart as if they were mere fruits.

The mages fell into despair. Some tried to retreat, others continued casting, only to be engulfed by their own explosions when Rygar split their incantations in two.

The hall was left in ruins. Pillars collapsed, bodies were flung against walls from the force of battle.

Fire danced around Rygar, but he only continued forward—faster, fiercer.

He was hunting.

The Prime Minister had already left the hall, but Livandrei remained, leading and commanding the mages and warriors. Only because of him did the group not dissolve into chaos and flee from Rygar's slaughter.

As for the Prime Minister, he wasn't too worried—he already knew his scent. How far could he go before Rygar finished here and found him? Even being a North Saint, he wouldn't get far.

This was the perfect case of "you can run, but you can't hide." Rygar would find him.

With a wild smile, Rygar charged forward. The massacre continued.

The energy in the hall churned like a storm on the verge of erupting.

Linvandrei was chanting the incantation of a Saint-class spell unknown to Rygar.

Rygar could see the buildup of mana with his Magic Eye and prepared to interrupt it with a faster spell when a chill ran down his spine. A sharpened instinct warned him—something was approaching.

With an almost unconscious movement, Rygar twisted his body and unleashed a Flame Slice, a blazing wave of fire cutting through the air behind him, destroying everything in its path.

The flare revealed a crimson silhouette—Hasjulian, swift as a specter, dodging at the last instant. His feet barely touched the ground, and before Rygar could pursue him, other magical attacks rained down.

Once again, Rygar wondered—how had Hasjulian gotten so close without triggering his senses? He had only felt him through instinct.

Mages completed their incantations, spewing fiery explosions and stone projectiles from the top of the staircase.

Swordsmen advanced, forming a circle to restrict his mobility. But containing Rygar was nothing more than a distant dream for them.

The ground gave way beneath his feet as he shot forward like an arrow, Flash Step and Burst Step combined, turning him into a silver and crimson blur.

Wielding the Longsword of Light, wreathed in flames, he cleaved a warrior in half, his body swallowed by the intense glow.

With Tsukikage, he delivered a horizontal slash bathed in fire, reducing three soldiers to ashes in an instant.

One of the mages shouted a prayer as he conjured an Earth Fortress—but it was useless. Rygar tore through the barrier like a furious spear, his blade piercing the mage's skull before he could complete his next invocation.

Explosions shook the hall as magic collided with walls, pillars, and unfortunate warriors caught in the crossfire.

Stone cannons shattered the floor, turning the battlefield into a chaotic inferno. Some warriors hesitated, stepping back.

But the more experienced ones—the Sword Saints and North Saints—held their ground, their sharp eyes analyzing Rygar's every move.

Hasjulian, who had been waiting for an opening, struck again.

He emerged from the shadows like a snake, his razor-thin blade seeking to slice through the side of Rygar's neck.

But this time, the beast warrior was 'ready.' Without looking, Rygar moved Tsukikage to intercept, and their blades clashed in a burst of sparks.

Hasjulian retreated, perplexed.

His technique—the legendary Formless Sword of the North God Style—was being neutralized by his opponent. Rygar didn't need to predict the attack. He simply felt it.

This was a technique well-known on the Central Continent. Hasjulian had already slain two King-class opponents with it, all because it revolved around completely erasing one's presence—being formless, in constant flux, before killing the enemy with a single strike.

But Rygar simply felt when an attack was meant to kill him and avoided it.

The next assault came from all sides. The Sword Saint and the two North Saints advanced together, their swords gleaming with the power of their touki.

Rygar didn't hesitate—he dashed straight at the Sword Saint, clashing in pure technique.

The Sword Saint struck with equal ferocity using the Longsword of Light, but Rygar was faster, slicing his blade into the man's heart before he could react.

The ground cracked beneath the weight of their confrontation.

One of the North Saint withdrew, but with a Flash Step, Rygar cut diagonally with Tsukikage. The warrior barely managed to block, but the blue blade was wreathed in lightning, slicing his sword in half without resistance—cleaving him in two.

A fire explosion launched by Linvandrei struck Rygar and the already-dead warrior, spreading flames everywhere and sending shockwaves through the surroundings.

The third Saint was alert, but he only had time to see Rygar emerging from the cloud of fire—his Longsword of Light severing his head in a clean strike.

Hasjulian watched the carnage, suppressing a shiver. Every one of Rygar's strikes distorted the space around him, such was the raw force behind them.

He was more than a warrior—he was a walking natural disaster.

Above, at the top of the staircase, Linvandrei finished his Saint-class spell.

The mana in the hall converged toward him, ice swirling around his body. He looked down, locking eyes with Rygar.

"—and pierce my enemies with the icy dagger! Ice Spear!"

A massive ice spear exploded forward at blinding speed, freezing everything in its path.

It struck with full force, but contrary to expectations, Rygar didn't dodge. Instead, he took the classic stance of the Water God Style.

He took a deep breath as Tsukikage was engulfed in flames—and slashed.

The impact of the ice spear made the ground around Rygar crack, and he was slightly pushed back due to the sheer force.

The ice spear erupted into frigid energy as it was completely cleaved in two, steam rising from the collision.

The fragments crashed into the floor, utterly devastating the area around Rygar, showcasing the power of a Saint-class spell.

His arm and everything around him were frozen, but he was smiling.

At that moment, Hasjulian appeared again—this time without warning—and landed his first hit. A thin, almost imperceptible cut across Rygar's abdomen.

On instinct, Rygar unleashed a lightning spell at random, striking Hasjulian and slamming him against the wall with brutal force.

Realizing he had landed a hit, Rygar prepared to finish him.

But then he felt it—poison! His body, conditioned to resist lethal substances, began to falter. A wave of dizziness threatened to topple him.

"What poison is this...?"

With no time to hesitate, he decisively incinerated the infected portion of his abdomen with fire magic.

The pain was excruciating—a roar of agony escaped his throat. Blood gushed, but he remained in control, healing himself as quickly as possible.

Even so, the delay nearly cost him. A fireball roared toward him, accompanied by the deadly glint of a blade.

He launched himself to the side with Flash Step, but not entirely in time—the strike tore through his shoulder.

His eyes burned with fury.

His regeneration was taking effect, but Hasjulian was still alive and had once again vanished using that strange technique, recovering somewhere from the lightning Rygar had struck him with.

Even so, the priority was to move forward. He turned to the last remaining mages.

Focusing his mana, he advanced. A warrior blocked his path, but Rygar didn't even need to put in any effort—he decapitated him in a single strike.

Some mages tried to cast last-minute spells, but Rygar was already prepared.

He raised an arm, aimed, and fired supersonic wind bullets. The mages' heads exploded with a deafening crack.

Their bodies collapsed like puppets without strings.

And the path to his final target was opening.

The remaining enemies froze when he looked at them, all recognizing their fate just from Rygar's gaze.

He walked lightly as another lone warrior tried to attack him, only to be blasted into the wall by a bolt of lightning.

Finally, he stopped in front of the Court Mage, Livandrei Kingdragon, the king's brother.

The figure dressed in luxurious robes panted, sweating cold.

His eyes, once full of confidence, were now a mix of denial and determination.

Behind him, the last standing Saint-level warrior trembled visibly.

The Night Hunter's poison was slowly petrifying his body, making each breath an agonizing struggle.

His muscles were failing, his organs shutting down one by one. With a final, hoarse gasp, he collapsed forward, dead before hitting the ground.

The other remaining warriors gripped their swords with trembling hands, unable to hide their growing fear.

Rygar observed silently, his sharp eyes locked onto the figure of Livandrei Kingdragon, the king's brother. The mage was impassive, unafraid of his impending death. His gaze was serene, as if he had already accepted his fate.

Rygar tilted his head slightly and sneered:

"Your friend, the minister, was smarter. He ran when he had the chance... Not that he can escape me anyway, of course."

A fierce smile formed on his face. His eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and predatory certainty.

"Perhaps Hasjulian, the Red Death, might escape," he added thoughtfully. "I haven't met anyone who could hide from me in years... But speaking of which, it seems he abandoned you here, didn't he?"

Livandrei remained impassive. His voice was calm, without resentment:

"The moment you weren't trapped by the sealing chains, I had already lost. The rest was just an attempt... assuming fate was on my side."

Rygar smiled. He could tell the mage wasn't lying. His cards had run out. The only remaining obstacle now was that minister. Once he was eliminated, the lingering sense of threat would finally disappear.

"I never thought of using barrier magic that way..." Livandrei murmured. "But then again, no one but you could use it without an incantation, and no one has as much mana..."

The mage sighed, seeming resigned. His once-determined gaze now showed exhaustion.

"Haaaah... I hit an iron wall this time. My last gambit is: would you kill the king's brother after making an alliance with him? It may not seem like it, but my brother is quite fond of me."

Rygar stared at him, his expression unchanged.

"Yes. I would."

Livandrei chuckled lightly and sighed again.

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"Alright. I know you can sense danger and all, but still, be careful with Yaylol. He may only be a Saint, but he has some very dangerous items and plenty of allies in other kingdoms."

Rygar's eyes glowed in response.

"And please," Livandrei added, his tone now filled with pride, "give me the honor of dying to that magnificent magic you created... the lightning."

Rygar smiled. A spark flickered in his eyes before a devastating bolt of lightning erupted from his hand, tearing through the air with a deafening roar.

The lightning struck Livandrei head-on, hurling him violently through two walls. His body convulsed uncontrollably, electricity consuming him entirely.

And then... silence. He was already dead before his body even hit the ground.

The remaining guards trembled, watching Rygar in absolute shock. Those who still had the will to fight didn't even have time to react—he eliminated them without hesitation, his blades cutting through their pathetic resistance like leaves in the wind.

The last three guards, pale, could barely hold their swords steady in their trembling hands. Rygar stared at them, his overwhelming presence suffocating the air around them.

"Leave," he ordered, his voice low but carrying undeniable menace. "Report what happened here... exactly as it happened."

The invisible pressure of his killing intent made them freeze in place.

"This may be your only chance to live. If I arrive and the king already knows everything about the ambush... perhaps I'll forget your faces."

The guards exchanged glances and, without hesitation, ran away. Rygar didn't stop them.

He then looked back at the bodies and the destruction left behind. He thought, why am I always fighting multiple people at the same time? And entire armies on top of that?

He pushed those thoughts aside and used his wind magic—there was no way he would leave that magical chain behind.

It had such mysterious powers that he hadn't even begun to decipher them yet, even after being 'trapped' by it. He coiled the chain and fastened it to his waist.

Leaving the shattered hall, he took a deep breath and lifted his face to the sky. They were still inside the kingdom, but at its very edge. His nose picked up a distinct scent in the air. His eyes narrowed, locking onto a precise direction.

"Running out of the city?" he murmured, his tone dripping with contempt. "You're sealing your fate, Minister."

Then, he shot forward like a lightning bolt, his silhouette vanishing in a blur of speed.

The hunt had begun.

Yaylol wouldn't escape.

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