Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The heavy oak gates of Kaelos City slammed shut behind them with a booming, metallic echo, sealing off the howling storm outside.

As they stepped onto the wet cobblestone streets, the lead sentry assigned himself to escort the three "refugees," while the second guard remained at his post to watch the entrance.

The sentry walked half a pace ahead, carrying a flickering spirit-fire lantern that cast long, dancing shadows against the dark stone buildings.

It did not take long for the guard to completely disregard Roy.

His eyes kept darting back toward the two women walking closely behind the young golden-haired man.

Even through the shapeshifting spell, Eurenia and Alisa retained their signature aesthetic traits.

Eurenia’s disguise possessed striking, crimson hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders and piercing golden eyes that glimmered like molten metal in the dark rain.

Alisa’s form featured sleek, jet-black hair that framed her delicate, porcelain face, paired with sharp, luminous emerald eyes.

As they walked down the quiet, wet alleyways, both Duchesses wrapped their arms tightly around Roy’s, pressing their soft, curvaceous bodies against his sides.

They refused to leave his proximity for even a single second, completely ignoring the sentry’s subtle attempts to engage them in conversation.

Watching this display, a bitter, rancid jealousy bubbled up inside the sentry’s chest.

To him, Roy was a complete nobody—a pathetic, mundane survivor who couldn’t possibly compare to the absolute glory of a cultivated Martial Warrior.

In this world, cultivators were the absolute rulers of the mortal plane.

Mundanes were nothing more than cattle, bound by natural lifespans and fragile bones.

The strong dictated reality, and all mundane men were expected to bow, yield, and step aside when a cultivator demanded what was theirs.

To ensure their infiltration went completely undetected by any high-tier experts monitoring the city, Roy had taken extreme precautions.

He had completely sealed Eurenia and Alisa’s terrifying Martial General cultivation, suppressing their spiritual presences down to the level of ordinary mortal women.

He had also thoroughly concealed his own divine essence, erasing every trace of cosmic authority until he appeared entirely, flawlessly mundane—a helpless, wealthy young merchant who had lost everything in the storm.

The sentry sneered beneath his breath, glaring at Roy’s back.

He desperately wanted to unsheathe his sword and decapitate the golden-haired youth on the spot, but as a guard on duty, he couldn’t simply murder a registered traveler in broad daylight—nor could he do it directly in front of the two beauties he claimed as his wives.

If he scared them, they might run, scream, or attract the attention of the city patrol.

He needed to play his cards carefully. To make at least one—or preferably both—of these voluptuous women his, Roy had to die quietly, in secret, far away from public eyes.

The sentry led the group deeper into the heart of Kaelos City.

Because of the torrential downpour and late hour, the streets were largely deserted, with only a few stone lanterns illuminating the slick, empty avenues.

However, as they walked, Alisa’s emerald eyes flickered sharply beneath her hood.

She possessed an impeccably sharp memory, recording every alleyway, defensive wall, guard patrol route, and structural choke point they passed.

Within her mind, a highly detailed, three-dimensional blueprint of Kaelos City was already being systematically constructed.

Beside her, Eurenia silently gauged the ambient spiritual pressure hovering over the city.

She could feel the underlying defensive formations weaving through the stone foundations, evaluating the overall martial density of the local guards.

Roy, however, remained completely unbothered, his gait relaxed as he leaned into his Duchesses’ embrace.

He knew how human cities functioned. A city of Kaelos’ scale was typically governed by a single Martial General—the Mayor.

With both Alisa and Eurenia standing at the Martial General realm, the local authority was trivial.

However, Roy’s sharp mind accounted for the true variable lurking in the shadows: the elder from the Glorious Mythical Sect.

That hidden Martial General was likely resting somewhere within the high-tier quarters of the city, waiting to inspect the captured Leopard-kin captives before transporting them back to the sect branch as raw cultivation resources.

Before Roy fired the first shot that would burn Kaelos City to the ground, he needed every piece of the puzzle on his board.

He needed to pinpoint the exact location of the subterranean dungeons, confirm the movement of the sect elder, and draw out every hidden authority figure in a single, sweeping net.

After ten minutes of walking through the rain, the sentry stopped before a three-story wooden building with a glowing iron sign that read The Sleeping Boar Inn.

The guard pushed the heavy front door open, ushering the group into a dimly lit tavern floor that reeked of cheap wine and wet wood.

Sitting behind the wooden counter was a portly, middle-aged innkeeper wiping a grease-stained cup with a dirty rag.

"Two guards on duty, and you’re bringing in refugees at midnight?" the innkeeper grunted, looking up with a lazy, unimpressed glare.

"They’re survivors of a beastman ambush," the sentry replied smoothly, leaning against the counter and tossing a casual nod toward Roy.

"They need a room for the night. Do you have anything available?"

The innkeeper didn’t offer a shred of pity. His small, piggy eyes swept over Roy’s damp clothing before landing directly on his face.

"Survivors, huh? I don’t run a charity here, kid. Do you have any real money on you, or are you planning to sleep on the stable floor?"

Roy feigned a flustered, hesitant expression, reaching into his inner pocket with trembling fingers.

He produced two bright silver coins and placed them onto the wooden counter.

The innkeeper’s eyes lit up with instant, disgusting greed.

A standard room at The Sleeping Boar Inn cost a mere ten bronze coins per night.

Two silver coins were worth a staggering two thousand bronze coins—enough to rent out the entire upper floor for weeks!

Seeing an easy target, the innkeeper snatched the silver coins off the counter, pocketing them instantly without offering a single copper in change.

"Well, well! It seems you’re a young man of culture after all," the innkeeper grinned, his yellowing teeth on full display.

He grabbed a brass key from the wall rack behind him and tossed it onto the counter.

"Room 301. Top of the stairs, end of the hall."

As he spoke, the innkeeper’s gaze drifted past Roy, landing squarely on Eurenia and Alisa.

His mouth visibly watered as he took in their curvaceous figures and stunning faces.

He shot a filthy, conspiratorial wink at the sentry standing beside him.

The sentry returned the smirk, his eyes glinting with a dark, shared understanding.

"Thank you, good innkeeper. Thank you, brave sentry," Roy spoke softly, bowing his head in deep, humble gratitude.

He picked up the brass key, took Eurenia and Alisa by their hands, and led them toward the wooden staircase leading to the upper floors.

As he turned his back to the two men, the timid, helpless expression on Roy’s face vanished instantly.

A faint, terrifying curl appeared at the corner of his lips.

Every single piece of his grand trap was snapping into place with absolute perfection.

There was a precise, calculated reason why Roy had selected the two most exceptionally beautiful noblewomen in Yutao City for his Duchesses to copy.

It was not merely for a simple disguise—it was the ultimate, inescapable bait designed to target the dark, lustful nature of human men.

Those arrogant, power-drunk bastards would do anything, break any rule, and commit any atrocity to lay their hands on such top-tier beauties.

And to claim those women for themselves, the "mundane husband" had to be quietly removed from the world.

Had Roy truly been an ordinary mortal man, he would have been a tragic fool, walking blindly into a trap that guaranteed his gruesome death in a dark alleyway.

But Roy was no mortal.

He was a Divine Spirit.

He was the God of Beasts and Men.

He was the sovereign devourer whose very existence stood above the mortal plane.

To him, these lustful, scheming cultivators were not dangerous predators.

They were merely fat, unsuspecting pigs, eagerly marching into the slaughterhouse

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