Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race Chapter 363 - The Damned Hound Emperor

POV: Eris Adoldia

What does it truly mean to be a Master?

This question had been my constant companion for years now.

It involves achieving a perfect harmony with one's surroundings, a state where commanding your blade becomes an effortless act.

Evading an incoming strike transforms into simple, natural movement. It's a condition where your martial arts are so deeply ingrained in your very being—your bones, your flesh, and your spirit—that no obstacle remains.

A truly beautiful description, indeed.

But what in the world did it actually signify?!

Reida, a swordswoman of immense experience and maturity that I had ever faced, was still not considered a true Master by Rygar's standards.

Even the Immortal Demon King Atofe, who had wielded a sword for millennia and practiced the North God Style for centuries, hadn't attained that pinnacle.

Rygar mentioned that on Earth, the definition of "Master" was notoriously ambiguous and hard to pin down. However, in this realm, it was apparently quite straightforward to identify.

At least, that's what he claimed.

I suspect he can only recognize it because he himself has reached that level...

Regardless, it seems that across Earth's history, only a select few individuals have ever been acknowledged as genuine Masters.

For instance, one such figure was the renowned swordsman Miyamoto Musashi, whose philosophy and life as a wandering samurai left an indelible mark on the world, even long after his passing.

In a strikingly similar fashion, Rygar informed me that in this world, apart from himself, only two others had ever achieved this martial arts milestone.

One was the Dragon God.

The other was the Technique God.

A total of three individuals.

Despite the disparity between worlds, the underlying principle seemed remarkably consistent.

A very select few truly ascend to become real Masters.

"Crimson Heavenly Rupture!"

My blade once more sliced through the air, a dark crimson flash hurtling towards the monstrous bird-man hundreds of meters away.

Once more, the creature was compelled to break its concentration, intercepting my attack with a blast of golden light.

"SHHHRRRIIIICKKK!"

A furious, terrible screech erupted at the precise moment of impact.

A smirk played on my lips.

Thanks to my Eye of Foresight, my strikes invariably landed at the most opportune moments, inflicting maximum possible damage within the given circumstances, naturally. I wasn't attempting to defeat it single-handedly, after all.

I was merely creating an opening for my formidable husband.

I might not grasp the exact definition of a Master, but as I sprinted and leaped across the floating islands of the 1800th Floor, I felt as though I was experiencing something akin to it.

Constant motion, perpetual intense combat, unceasing vigilance.

Even though my body was at its absolute physical zenith and fully rejuvenated by my Armor and Rygar's Healing Magic, the mental exhaustion accumulated incrementally, never ceasing for even a heartbeat.

It was akin to holding my sword aloft indefinitely. No matter how many times my body was repaired, my mind never found a single moment of true respite.

Fortunately, my last strike served as the perfect diversion.

Or so I certainly believed.

Rygar surged forward, employing one of the exceedingly rare techniques capable of inflicting harm upon that False Bird God.

That particular Floor Boss possessed the infuriating and unnatural ability to move with the speed of a literal beam of light, rendering it an absurdly elusive adversary.

Coupled with its other outrageous and abnormal powers, it was an opponent I couldn't hope to defeat, even over a hundred years.

But the task didn't fall solely on me.

I heard Rygar's voice boom out:

"Olympus Fallen!"

From the storm-laden heavens, my incredible and steadfast husband descended once more upon an invincible foe.

Twelve bolts instantly surged towards the grotesque Bird God. The beast attempted to counterattack again, unleashing its irritating beams of light with wild abandon, but Rygar, much like lightning itself, moved in an instant, resembling a flash of blue light.

It was as if an entire tempest was converging on a single point.

Blue and violet lightning enveloped the monster from all sides.

Glimpsing a few seconds into the future, I finally exhaled in relief and paused momentarily, deactivating my ability solely to observe.

Even now, I cannot precisely fathom how Rygar executes that technique, but I was certain of its outcome.

Rygar attacked simultaneously from twelve distinct vantage points, and the Twelve Lightning Strikes descended upon the false Bird God like divine retribution. It was the first indication since the battle commenced that the creature appeared genuinely imperiled.

And then, it finally disintegrated.

Its grotesque form was ripped into countless pieces. Its golden ichor vaporized into the atmosphere before it could even drip through the endless sky, all accompanied by the familiar resonance of shattering that echoed throughout the entire world, as if the very Floor itself was lamenting the demise of its sovereign.

The intense electromagnetic wave from the final blow was palpable even from hundreds of meters away. My vision was momentarily obscured by its brilliance, and my hair thrashed wildly around me.

After a brief moment to catch my breath and rest, I resumed my movement.

My destination was the passage leading to the next floor.

In my peripheral vision, I observed Rygar, clad in his signature black armor, also heading in the same direction after retrieving the Boss Monster’s core and securing it within dimensional storage.

He paused to look at me.

Meeting his gaze, I spoke before he could voice any questions:

"I’m still capable! Let’s press onward!"

I fancied I saw a smile bloom behind his helm.

A deep sense of happiness also welled up within me.

Just as we were about to depart the current floor, his cautionary words reached me once more:

"Following the established sequence, we are about to enter the Demon World. Eris, exercise extreme caution regarding unusual magical effects and any potential poisons."

I acknowledged his warning with a nod, my pace never faltering.

Then, together, we plunged toward the next level.

At this juncture, the urgency of our mission was more critical than ever.

Despite the precariousness of my own condition, my personal safety was not my primary concern. After all, Rygar was by my side. My greater worry was for those beyond this place...

As these thoughts occupied my mind, the surrounding scenery shifted for what felt like the countless time, a transformation I had grown accustomed to.

A shiver traced its way down my spine.

We materialized simultaneously in a locale that could only be described as a desolate swamp.

The very ground seemed rotted yet unyielding, composed of thick, black mud interwoven with dark, sluggish water.

Gnarled, dead trees jutted out in every direction; some were starkly bare, while others were shrouded in oppressive masses of dark moss and grotesque fungi.

Expansive black pools dotted the landscape, emitting a perpetual, tar-like vapor. The air was thick with a suffocating miasma of decay, sulfur, ancient flesh, and stagnant water.

However, the most startling sight was not the environment itself.

A single sweep of my eyes revealed demons as far as the horizon.

Their forms and sizes were comparable to adult dragons, with some even exceeding them.

A few resembled colossal infernal bulls, others were like basilisks radiating menacing auras, their immense bodies dragging through the mire.

Towering humanoid monstrosities, tens of meters in height, emerged from the gloom, flames spewing from their eyes and mouths, standing eerily still as if an unspoken signal marked our arrival.

There was no need for deliberation.

A fleeting glimpse into the immediate future prompted me to break away and head towards the mountainous terrain.

Around Rygar, who ascended into the sky to gather mana, the familiar azure flames of Doomsday flickered and crackled with a seemingly eager anticipation, engulfing the surroundings.

I couldn’t help but notice that his sword appeared to be gaining an intelligence of its own...

Ah well, that likely wouldn’t pose too significant an issue.

----

Ajax Telamonian.

Son of the tyrannical Desert Tyrant, Larax the North Emperor, and Vidette, a sorceress from his mercenary company and a scion of the Telamonian Demon Tribe.

Ajax’s very existence was inherently extraordinary.

He was a being born under a powerful Destiny.

Within the Dragon God’s cycles, devoid of external meddling or reincarnated souls, Ajax was fated to be born in Begaritt and ultimately ascend to lead his father’s mercenary band through sheer might.

Yet, this succession would only mark the initial twenty years of his life.

As a formidable demon hybrid with an extended lifespan, Ajax would evolve into Ajax the King Butcher, establishing dominance over a significant portion of the Begaritt Continent, renowned for accepting contracts to assassinate royalty.

Nevertheless, upon encountering the love of his life, his path was destined for a transformative and positive alteration.

During the campaign against Laplace, he would consistently stand as the most distinguished general of the Desert Continent, uniting its disparate peoples in defiance of the tyrannical demon.

Though not entirely human, Ajax harbored a deep disdain for the actions of the ostensibly mad Demon God.

Towards the latter part of his existence, he would be celebrated as a paragon of integrity and justice, saving countless lives and making the ultimate sacrifice in the struggle against the Demon God.

And, undoubtedly, in Orsted’s estimation, he represented a formidable bulwark against Laplace.

His innate talent was unparalleled.

Regrettably, his current life was far from tranquil.

Having endured near-fatal ordeals even in infancy, Ajax grew up burdened by a vendetta that was not his own.

From his formative years, Vidette meticulously molded her son Ajax into a lethal instrument, solely for the purpose of eventually slaying the formidable Beast God.

Several years prior, accompanied by her son, she departed the Demon Continent for the Sword Sanctuary, ensuring he would receive the most superlative training available.

Though the journey was arduous, fraught with peril, and repeatedly teetered on the brink of fatality, she had ultimately achieved her objective. Both mother and son arrived safely at the Sanctum.

The individual who reaped the most substantial benefit from this endeavor was, naturally, Ajax.

His journey fostered rapid growth, both in combat and in the broader tapestry of life. The arduous travels, the ever-present dangers, and interactions with novel regions and diverse peoples progressively expanded his worldview.

The previously rigid and confined perspective began a slow, almost imperceptible, opening, so subtle that Vidette remained entirely unaware of its transformation.

Ajax, blessed with abundant talent, surged through the Sword Sanctuary like a comet.

The stationed Iron Legion even extended an invitation to join their ranks, igniting Vidette's fury anew. However, their offer was met with a formal rejection.

Despite her rage, she refrained from jeopardizing everything for mere trifles. Ajax continued to amass strength, concurrently enhancing his Magic abilities, steadily earning widespread renown.

The more he ventured out, the more he witnessed, the more he assimilated, a subtle seed of defiance began to sprout within him.

At sixteen, Ajax ascended to the rank of Sword King, subsequently achieving the same status in Water, Wind, and Fire Magic under the tutelage of his mentor, Melina Lakov, the Court Mage of the Kingdom of Neris.

Today marks Ajax's eighteenth year.

His power has known no pause in its relentless ascent.

Conversely, his mother's health had dramatically deteriorated over the past few years, a rare malady progressively consuming her vitality.

The greater her sickness and frailty, the less she seemed to cling to any lingering traces of tenderness.

The stronger Ajax became, the more hope she found reflected in him, perceiving an unending luminescence in her son, compelling him to train with even greater intensity, to bear her retribution, to avenge his father...

And the young swordsman, observing his mother's decline, found himself caught between sorrow and a sense of release.

On this particular day, within a humble wooden dwelling in the Sword Sanctuary, Vidette stood at the precipice of death.

Ajax, now a man in his prime, sat beside her, clasping her hands, his gaze steeped in grief.

"Cough-cough!"

Vidette's complexion was alarmingly pale, and blood coughed forth incessantly. Yet, a tranquil smile graced her lips.

"There is no need for such sorrow, my son..."

Ajax's expression darkened as he met his mother's gaze.

The woman's smile widened.

"You exerted every effort to procure the medicine... there is little more that can be done now..."

Her eyes then locked onto Ajax's, brimming with a hope she held with unwavering conviction.

"My ultimate ambition, you have already embraced it, my son... as long as the Beast God falls by your hand one day, I shall find eternal rest."

Ajax remained silent.

He then responded quietly:

"You have my solemn vow, Mother..."

Following this, the half-blood simply observed.

Though severe, her love for him had always been profound and true.

He watched the light recede from her eyes until she was utterly still.

A solitary tear of regret traced a path down his cheek as he stood.

Regret for failing to obtain the medicine that might have saved his mother, regret that she had rejected any remedy offered by the Kingdom of Gaia or the Iron Legion.

He whispered:

"I am sorry, Mother..."

Then, he turned his back and departed.

Yet, as he stepped outside, a surprising lightness settled upon his demeanor. It felt as though an immense burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

As if, with Vidette's passing, an ancient fetter had finally been severed.

And then, with all his might, he roared:

"I am truly sorry, but... to hell with your damnable vengeance..."

That day, the Sword Sanctuary welcomed a new sovereign.

A young half-blood named Ajax, who defiantly proclaimed himself the Darned Hound Emperor.

----

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