Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race-Chapter 98 - I Have Everything Under Control

Rygar felt enormous pressure, as if with every passing second he were closer to death—a huge pressure upon himself.

He quickly analyzed his situation as the most mortal wounds gradually began to heal.

Even with his fire barrier, his touki reinforcing him, the stone wall, and the large amount of water, nothing had protected him from that devastating explosion.

This meant that either the mage who cast it was extremely powerful, or it was a gathering of several mages joining forces to cast it.

It was as if the very earth had been torn from its foundations, as if he had been struck by something as powerful as a nuclear bomb, and he had barely managed to escape with all his defenses.

He no longer saw that Northern King or the Minister, which meant that they were probably reduced to ashes by the attack.

His body was unrecognizable. Both legs, burned to ashes, the charred flesh disintegrating with every breath, only his resilient bones remained, also charred.

His left arm was no better—the skin ruined, the bones visible and cracked; his hair, clothes, and everything else he was carrying had melted or turned to ashes.

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Among the items that remained were Tsukikage, Nighthunter, and that "Sealing Chain of the Mad Dragon King" that he had taken with him after massacring the ambushing army.

All his personal items—the necklace his mother gave him when he was five, the wooden amulet that Rufus gave him when he left—any trace of them had melted or turned to ashes.

He was partially blinded, his right eye rendered useless, closed by a deep burn, but fortunately it had not been completely destroyed, so it could still be healed with Saint Level Healing magic.

Overall, he was in a truly miserable situation.

He forced his mana to the maximum in his Healing Magic.

He felt the cells of his body rebuilding, the cracked bones fusing together again.

The pain was unbearable, as if he were being torn apart from the inside, but he persevered, concentrating on the process.

Gradually, the flames of pain diminished, but his reflexes and movements were still weakened, and his tendons and muscles had not yet fully regenerated.

He also fashioned an improvised stone armor from the waist down so as not to be left naked.

The sense of danger, the pressure in the air, did not dissipate.

Rygar could hear something—no, he could feel what was approaching, with an overwhelming presence, an unstoppable force.

And then he heard the sound.

Quick footsteps, like the sound of a predator approaching, the earth moving with each step, speed like a lightning bolt.

His heart raced, and he forced himself to stand up.

He was still not fully recovered. His vision was blurred, and the damage to his nose, ears, and eyes made it difficult for him to fully perceive the dangers around him.

He used Flash Step without hesitation, distancing himself with staggering speed, moving to "safety." He felt agonizing pain in his body from executing this technique in his condition. But it was not enough.

Suddenly, something cut through the air—a movement so fast it seemed like an afterimage.

The blade of the scimitar, gleaming and sharp, sliced through the ground where he stood with fatal precision, creating a smooth, curved scar in the earth, as if it had been carved by nature.

Rygar barely had time to dodge to avoid the fatal blow.

He felt a blade slicing his flesh with a lightness so soft, yet at the same time, so deadly.

The cut on his neck was superficial, thanks to his hasty use of Flash Step.

He turned to face his attacker.

The man before him was an imposing figure, with dark skin, and a black eye patch covering one eye, while the other shone with fierce intensity. He wore ragged clothes and had various jewels and weapons on his body, including the scimitar—still stained with his blood—which spun in his right hand.

He laughed—a strange and animated laugh, almost one of pleasure.

And the sound reverberated in the empty crater, echoing like a wild growl. He licked the blood off his blade with a smile of satisfaction, as if Rygar's blood were a delicious feast.

"Larax! No more introductions!" Larax said, his voice resonating in the air, full of disdain and pleasure. He slightly leaned forward, his smile never leaving his face.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Red Wolf!"

With a movement as fast as the blink of an eye, Larax advanced.

The speed with which he moved was absurd, as if he were part of the wind itself, faster than Rygar could process.

The ground beneath their feet collapsed after each step, and the sense of danger intensified with every moment.

Rygar was still struggling to recover, his body exhausted and injured, yet he managed to remain standing.

He had no time to hesitate.

In the very next instant, he raised a wall of earth in front of him, attempting to block Larax's charge.

At the same time, he leaped onto the wall; running straight at that man in his current condition would have been like stepping into a firing line and waiting to be slaughtered—he needed a confused environment to have a chance.

The earth compressed and formed quickly, creating a solid wall that he knew would not last long against the enemy's force.

But he needed time, enough time to react.

However, Larax did not retreat. Instead of slicing through the wall with his sharp blade, the mercenary leader simply leaped onto the still-forming wall.

Rygar forced his exhausted muscles to move, propelling himself upward with Burst Step, still battling the searing pain that consumed his body.

He leaped, but his acceleration was slow—the movement more difficult than usual.

He began to use the Colossal Fortress to create several stone structures with the stone wall as a base, and as the magic surged, various walls, towers, and pillars grew, giving him the opportunity to block the enemy repeatedly, managing to evade him even while injured.

Larax did not stop. He was right behind him, cutting through the stone and earth walls, leaping and dodging other obstacles as fast as a pursuing predator.

At the moment Rygar leaped off the wall, hoping to confuse his pursuer, he heard the metallic sound of something slicing through the wind around him.

Before he could react, a chain with a curved, razor-sharp scythe wrapped around his ankle with lethal precision.

The chain's pull violently dragged Rygar backward, and with a deafening crash, his body was hurled against the Fortress, breaking bones and creating deep cracks in the wall before he crashed to the ground again.

Rygar felt as if he were being crushed by an entire mountain.

He barely had time to react.

Larax descended from the wall with immense speed, laughing maniacally as if savoring the hunt.

In the very next moment, Rygar forced himself to rise, feeling his broken bones beginning to regenerate, though the pain paralyzed him. He needed to act quickly.

With difficulty, he grabbed Tsukikage, but the movement was slower than normal; his arms could not move with the desired agility.

His flesh, ligaments, and tendons had not fully regenerated, but he had no choice.

In one final effort, he launched a Flame Slice as powerfully as he could—a wave of fire slicing through the air toward Larax.

But the mercenary ignored it and moved straight through the flames, suffering only a few burns.

Instinctively, Rygar drew Night Hunter and blocked the lethal attack aimed at his heart.

The scimitar's blade penetrated Rygar's touki like a hot knife through butter, creating a deep puncture in his lung.

Rygar fought to breathe, a sense of impending death overwhelming him, when Larax's laughter echoed in his ears.

"Ahahaha! You're fighting just like my mage, hahaha—you're too injured for a fencing duel! That won't work for you, Red Wolf!"

Larax said, with a sadistic laugh.

But Rygar did not give up.

He used that moment, when Larax had become minimally confident—until then, he had pressed him relentlessly, not allowing him to use his magic efficiently.

Especially lightning, which he couldn't cast as quickly as his other spells.

But now, with those few exchanged words, he had the minimum time needed; he unleashed a close-range lightning bolt, causing Larax to be thrown far away with an explosion of energy.

The terrain around him was devastated, with stones and earth flying in every direction, while Rygar was thrown backward and the scimitar left his chest, causing blood to gush out. He felt dazed, but still alive.

He coughed up blood, and his lung, although pierced and once again reducing his combat capacity, was slowly regenerating.

He could barely remain standing.

His vision was blurred, and his senses were out of control. He needed to do something, but his body was swaying to one side.

Even so, Rygar gathered the remaining mana he could feel and, focusing his concentration, launched a Stone Cannon toward Larax.

But his aim was imprecise due to his still impaired senses, and the attack passed by, missing the target by a few meters.

His hand tensed as he refocused to cast another spell while Larax staggered to his feet, trying to finish the fight once and for all, but then he heard a strange sound behind him.

A Red Demon appeared out of nowhere, laughing macabrely.

"Hahaha! Look at that, you got hit even though you were so well-prepared, Larax?! Ahahahaha!"

With a monstrous cleaver in hand, Mortan advanced like a runaway truck.

The blade sliced through the air, preparing to crush Rygar as he once again hurriedly used Flash Step to escape the attack's reach.

Larax also rose with a demonic smile, saying with irony:

"Watch out, don't die! This guy is a wounded beast, he'll do anything to take someone with him!"

Both enemies advanced, as if Rygar's fate were already sealed.

The wounds, the pain, and the extreme exhaustion made every movement harder than he could imagine.

But he had no choice.

He had to fight, or die trying.

Rygar endured with everything he had, like a flame struggling to stay lit amid a violent storm, despite the burns that scorched his body.

He knew that any mistake would be fatal; there was no room for hesitation.

But even in such a state, with his body on the brink of collapse, he continued to resist; he could feel something different since waking up—even with his body destroyed, he felt that he was in control.

Larax and Mortan advanced simultaneously, doing everything in their power to kill Rygar at any opportunity.

The pressure of the battle crushed the terrain around them, and the earth beneath their feet trembled. With every strike, the ground shuddered under the force of their colossal blows.

Rygar did not hold back.

Engaged in a battle against himself, he advanced, executing the Longsword of Light.

Larax, with his scimitar, blocked Rygar's strike with a tremendous crash, the blue, flame-enshrouded blade colliding with the magical scimitar with a metallic ring.

The impact reverberated, and Rygar felt his hand throb from the shock.

But he did not stop.

With agility, he stepped on the ground and caused hardened earth spikes to emerge from the surface in an instant, striking Larax and forcing him to leap backward.

Rygar had no time to be distracted; the Red Demon was right behind him.

The monster leaped toward Rygar with two raised cleavers.

At the last moment, Rygar raised his hand and thought: 'Sonic Explosion!'

A crushing wind was unleashed toward Mortan.

The demonic warrior was blasted in the opposite direction with brutal force, rolling across the ground as he struggled to stand up.

He dragged himself for meters until he came to a halt, but Rygar was already far away.

He was holding on, but fighting on the brink of death was not his fetish; his focus now was to escape this ambush.

"He's healing slowly! We have to kill him before that happens!" Larax shouted as he fired in pursuit.

Rygar felt the wounds in his body pulsate, but he forced himself to move, advancing toward the capital.

But then, far ahead, he saw a gigantic stone wall rising.

Rygar looked up, his eyes fixed on a small man standing atop the wall, holding a red and gold staff with a huge red magical stone.

The man's identity was concealed by a stone helmet, but Rygar could sense that this guy was afraid of him, and moreover, with his Magical Power Eye, he could see.

He saw the greatest amount of mana he had ever witnessed; this guy visibly had far more mana than him—perhaps twice as much, or even more. Far more than his master, far more than anyone he had ever encountered.

Next to the mage were an old warrior, a warrior woman, and a demon-kin mage.

And then, a silver-haired elven child, who also possessed an enormous amount of mana—almost as much as Godbard—and she was conjuring several Ice Cannons aimed directly at him.

He halted his advance for a moment and dodged, feeling the ice cannons firing around him. Dozens of projectiles sliced through the air like a machine gun, and he barely had time to react.

But his evasion was enough to dodge most of them.

Before he could launch a lightning bolt toward that group, Larax arrived, faster than Rygar had imagined.

With a clean move, he hurled his scimitar in a deadly spin, the metal slicing through the air with a hissing sound.

"Watch your head!" he shouted, laughing, and Rygar tried to dodge. But his leg, still regenerating, failed at that moment, and that failure was fatal.

The cut was swift and precise, severing his left arm before he could fully react.

Rygar did not have the luxury to mourn. With a move of pure willpower, he bit his own arm and reattached it, ignoring the excruciating pain.

But that was enough time for Mortan and Larax to surround him once more.

Rygar was in a bad situation.

Two very strong warriors, two mages capable of using unchanneled magic on an as-yet-unknown scale, a demon-kin mage with unknown powers, and two seemingly weaker warriors—a veteran and a woman.

And he was alone.

Injured.

How could he get out of this? It was a question for which he had no answer.

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