Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race

The North King, with dark skin and graying hair, displayed a calm smile as he introduced himself, but Rygar felt the intensity behind this demeanor.

Rygar said, "Alright, you can replace him." Saying this, he slowly unsheathed Tsukikage.

He watched as Lwis' greatsword was drawn with an impressive calm.

'This guy seems strong,' Rygar thought, his excitement growing at the prospect of combat.

He felt his adrenaline rising and the desire to fight someone powerful.

But the moment he thought about it, a strange sensation suddenly invaded his mind.

Something in the air… something he couldn't identify. He looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. The feeling continued to grow, bothering his mind and body.

Before he could understand what was happening, Lwis advanced.

The North King speed was absurd. Despite his large size, his sword descended with such devastating force that the impact on the ground made the environment around Rygar tremble and crack into countless pieces.

But he was prepared.

He dodged with precision using Flow, guiding the sword to pass by his side—just enough to avoid being crushed.

The earth shattered under the colossal blade, but Rygar did not lose focus. He kept moving, his mind working at high speed.

'What's bothering me?' He looked around, trying to identify the problem.

Lwis continued to press him aggressively.

'Could it be a trap? But I don't feel any sense of danger, just discomfort... Are they attacking the others? But Ghislaine and Skoll are there, and I would certainly notice the fight since it's not far…'

These doubts ran through Rygar's mind as he dodged another blow, running across the battlefield. He couldn't afford to stop.

'I don't feel danger from any direction, I only felt discomfort when I thought about fighting seriously against a strong opponent… How would that be bad for me? Maybe revealing my techniques would be a problem, but again, I don't feel a real threat here… Could it be that someone is watching me from where my senses can't reach?'

As he dodged, he almost instinctively looked toward a distant mountain. His perception sharpened, and he felt something elusive, but his senses obviously didn't reach that far.

'But that shouldn't be possible. Who could see from so far away that my senses couldn't reach…'

It was worth noting that Rygar could sense killing intent directed at him from kilometers away. The feeling of being watched from such an absurd distance was unsettling.

But Rygar refocused. He couldn't afford to be distracted in a fight with a King.

'But there's still the possibility of something blocking my senses. I'll hold back and conserve my strength just in case.'

With this thought, Rygar took the initiative. He gripped Tsukikage and activated the Longsword of Light before advancing.

His blade shone with a bright yellow flame as he lifted it to strike with extreme speed.

Using Flow, he defended and countered everything the warrior threw at him.

Lwis' sword was heavy and powerful, but Rygar was faster.

He glided along the giant blade with impressive agility, his movement flowing almost like water.

Lwis was unfazed. He used his full strength to unleash heavy strikes, trying to crush Rygar with the sheer brutality of his blade.

The massive sword cut through the air with a roar.

Each strike was like a storm of pure force, but Rygar used Flow to redirect the blows and Flash Step to evade attacks from unpredictable angles.

Lwis, impressed by Rygar's speed and techniques, didn't hesitate.

He counterattacked, his enormous blade swinging with a force and speed that didn't match his size.

The battle unfolded in a whirlwind of speed and strength.

Rygar attacked and evaded, but he was at a disadvantage. It was clear that he could hold his own thanks to his high mastery of the three styles. Combined with Flash Step and his physical strength, he could fight on par with Lwis, who seemed weaker than Ghislaine, but it wasn't enough to defeat him.

Lwis tried to dominate the battle with raw strength, but Rygar skillfully resisted.

Lwis looked at Rygar with a warm smile, admiring the young man's skill. "You are truly impressive, young one," he said, still on guard.

But he soon narrowed his eyes, observing Rygar with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. His tone was firm but friendly.

"You don't seem very focused on our fight… Is something bothering you?"

Rygar grinned fiercely, adrenaline surging through his body.

"You know, I have a very sharp sixth sense. And when I thought about fighting you seriously, I had a bad feeling."

Lwis Navaro furrowed his brows.

"Are you suggesting we're plotting against you?"

Rygar kept his sharp gaze on the immortal warrior, his senses on high alert.

"I don't know… Are you?"

Lwis' expression hardened, clearly irritated by the suspicion. His voice was firm and direct:

"We are not!"

Rygar didn't just listen to his words; he felt the opponent's heartbeat, picked up the small signs of his body. Lwis seemed sincere.

In fact, Rygar could also feel the gaze of the leader of this outpost: Emperor Ornthorn, watching from the shadows. And even he didn't seem to harbor any malice. On the contrary, the energy in the surroundings was welcoming.

But the strange feeling persisted. Something was wrong. If he fought at full power and revealed his abilities, he would be putting himself at a disadvantage. But why? Sometimes these instincts made him feel seriously paranoid…

'Even without knowing the reason, I didn't survive this long by ignoring this feeling…'

Making a decision, Rygar raised his voice:

"Alright then. Let's continue our fight. I'll focus now."

His sword began to glow with intense flames.

He obviously wouldn't fight at full power and would only display abilities he had already used in public, just in case. After all, based on the previous exchanges, Lwis was weaker than Ghislaine, whom he could already defeat, so he believed he could win while holding back.

With a Burst Step, Rygar shot toward his opponent, exceeding the speed of sound and shattering the arena behind him, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. In the next instant, a wave of flames surged toward Lwis with a slash of Tsukikage, blinding his vision.

At the same time, Rygar cloaked his body in a barrier of flames and moved even faster than his own technique, dashing through the blazing inferno to emerge before Lwis with a devastating strike.

Rygar's longsword descended in a deadly arc, forcing Lwis to raise his enormous blade to block. The clash of swords reverberated across the battlefield, scattering searing flames as the impact generated an explosion of wind and sparks.

Rygar did not stop.

Masterfully wielding his magic, he created platforms of earth that granted him impossible mobility for ordinary warriors, leaping between them to attack from impossible angles.

Spikes of stone erupted from the ground, and supersonic wind bullets flew constantly, forcing Lwis to keep moving.

However, the Immortal Warrior lived up to his title.

His strength was absurd, and despite his immense sword, he wielded it with superhuman speed.

Each of his strikes carried enough impact to shatter rocks, and his resilience was unparalleled.

When wounded, his demonic side greatly accelerated his regeneration, without the need for healing magic.

But Rygar was not ordinary. He had mastered the three schools of swordsmanship and integrated magic into combat in a unique way.

He didn't rely solely on brute strength; his versatility and tactics were his true weapons.

The battle stretched on for long minutes, relentless blows exchanged without rest.

The battlefield was in ruins, scorched and scarred by the clashes. In the end, Rygar remained standing, wielding his swords, Night Hunter and Tsukikage, the latter still engulfed in flames.

Lwis Navaro, on the other hand, was completely wounded and struggling to breathe. Sweat mixed with blood dripped down his resilient body. He looked at Rygar's short, black blade and noticed something unusual.

"What sword is this?" he murmured, panting. "It seems to be preventing my regeneration… My muscles feel as heavy as stone…"

Then, he let out a hoarse laugh.

"Hahaha… I admit my defeat!"

The silence lasted only a moment before the arena erupted in cheers and acclaim.

"Oooooooh!"

"A teenager defeated Lwis!"

"The Immortal Warrior was defeated!"

The warriors and apprentices were in a frenzy. The crowd roared with the intensity of the moment.

Eris, watching closely, was beaming with pride as if she had won the battle herself. Eidar, however, seemed calm, as if the outcome had been expected.

But then, a voice resonated, instantly silencing everyone.

"Everyone, silence!"

The command was absolute. The crowd fell quiet immediately.

From a high platform, an imposing man emerged. His sharp purple eyes swept across the battlefield. He descended the steps slowly, each step carrying an overwhelming aura.

The North Emperor.

Ornthorn, the Dragon Hunter.

Ornthorn was, at the very least, different from what one might expect.

First, he was small, standing only 1.50 meters tall, with a somewhat youthful face. Not as robust as a dwarf but lean like a human, his physique was peculiar.

He wore black armor, and his eyes were an intense shade of purple. But what stood out the most was his hair—green.

The taboo color in society. The hair of the feared Superd demons. However, he lacked the red jewel on his forehead and did not wield a spear.

Still, he was a target of discrimination wherever he went, which was why he rarely left the headquarters of the North God Style.

Despite his youthful appearance, he had a serious posture and an authoritative expression that exuded an imposing presence. Moreover, Rygar knew from Gertan that Ornthorn was over 80 years old.

The most striking detail, however, was not his green hair but the colossal sword he carried on his shoulder.

A golden blade three meters long and forty centimeters wide, a monstrous weapon that contrasted with his small frame, standing twice his size.

The North Emperor approached calmly, his body seemingly containing a terrifying strength as he effortlessly wielded the massive sword, his voice echoing throughout the arena:

"You are the victor of this duel, Rygar Adoldia. By the title of North Emperor, granted to me by Alex Kalman Ryback II, the Second Generation North God, I bestow upon you the title of North King!"

The arena fell silent for an instant before exploding into murmurs of surprise. The shock was universal.

How had Rygar become the North King? Hadn't he used magic? Was that even allowed? Questions swirled in the minds of those present, but before anyone could voice them, it was Rygar himself who spoke, his voice filled with doubt:

"Ornthorn… right? I used techniques from the North God Style… But I also used Flow, the Longsword of Light, and several self-created magic techniques. Is it really right to give me this title?"

All eyes turned to Ornthorn, who remained impassive. He let out a light sigh before responding:

"In the few years I was taught by the North God, he told me that the core focus of this style is not about specific techniques or the development of specialties, but rather a method of survival and approaching battle with the greatest chance of victory.

The North God Style relies heavily on the practitioner's adaptability and use of the environment. As a result, there is no 'right' way to master it."

As he spoke, he leaped from the upper platform and landed effortlessly in the arena, carrying his monstrous sword with no apparent effort. He continued:

"There are several factions within this style. Just as the Asura Kingdom has ninjas, we teach various techniques here—combat with large weapons, hidden weapons, and more.

In the desert, there is a warrior who developed a technique based on movement and defeated me just a few weeks ago. There are no absolute rules.

That is why, as long as you can defeat a King-level warrior of our style without exclusively using one of the other two schools, I will name you North King."

Rygar fell into contemplation. He had expected to first become a Sword King. But who would have thought that a simple trip to the North God Style headquarters would earn him the title he had sought for three years—just in a different school?

He looked at Ornthorn. Despite being taller than the North Emperor, he still felt a crushing sense of danger emanating from him.

He knew that if he wanted any chance of defeating him, he would have to give everything he had.

And perhaps even that wouldn't be enough. But that day would not be today. After all, that unsettling feeling still lingered, and he would remain cautious while in this place.

The Emperor looked directly at him, ignoring the murmurs around them. Then, he asked:

"You don't seem bothered by the color of my hair… Don't you find it grotesque?"

Rygar raised his head, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Hm? No, it actually looks pretty stylish."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Almost everyone dropped their jaws, completely shocked by the statement.

Everyone knew that green was the hair color of the insane Superd demons! No one had ever had the audacity to compliment such a thing.

Ornthorn slightly lifted the corner of his lips in an almost smile. Then, he effortlessly raised his sword and pointed it at Rygar:

"That doesn't matter! If you want the title of Emperor, you'll have to defeat me! You'd be the second one this month…"

His voice carried a nostalgic tone, as if reminiscing about a worthy opponent he had recently faced.

The tension reached its peak. Everyone present eagerly awaited Rygar's response. Even Eris and Eidar were nervous.

If Rygar defeated Ornthorn at the age of 11, he would probably be the youngest Emperor to ever exist!

But, shattering all expectations, Rygar spoke calmly:

"No, thanks! It was a pleasure meeting you. I'll come back another day for a duel."

And with that, he turned around and walked away under the stunned gazes of the crowd.

The arena fell into a deadly silence.

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