Lunar Legacy: Rise Of The Beastlord-Chapter 288: Interlude: Celestial System

While Jayden was grappling with the weight of his humanity and relationships—another story was just beginning in a parallel universe. In a world very similar to Jayden’s, but also very much different.

...

Earth 1, Milky Way Galaxy, Alpha Realm 001,

In the utopian world of mana cells and magical beasts, a teenage boy lay motionless in a deep mud pit, his body still, his chest unmoving. He wasn’t breathing.

He was probably unconscious.

Or dead.

Then, without warning, his eyes flew open as a desperate gasp tore from his throat.

Cold.

Wet.

Smelly.

Those were Henry’s first impressions of... whatever this was.

His cheek was pressed into something damp and gritty, the distinct scent of mud and what he could only describe as "questionable life choices" filling his nose. He blinked up at a sky the color of dirty dishwater, framed by jagged walls of dirt rising impossibly high above him.

"I’m in a hole," his brain supplied unhelpfully. "Or a pit. A very deep pit."

He sat up slowly, his body protesting in ways that felt simultaneously familiar and completely wrong. His hands caught his attention first—lean, callused, with long fingers that definitely weren’t his. No faint scar on the knuckle from that embarrassing incident with instant noodles and a butter knife.

"Okay," Henry muttered, his voice sounding different. "Either I’m having the weirdest lucid dream of my life, or someone gave me a full-body makeover while I was unconscious."

But then the memories hit him like a freight train.

The woman. The thief. The chase.

The blue truck.

Henry’s breath caught as it all came rushing back—the screech of tires, the blaring horn, the split-second of pure terror before impact. The sickening crunch. The woman’s scream. The darkness swallowing everything.

"Oh my God. I was hit by that truck," he whispered, his new hands trembling. "I... I died."

For a long moment, he just sat there in the mud, processing the weight of that realization. His whole life—eighteen years of surviving an orphanage, acing math tests, finally getting accepted to his dream university—all of it ended because he’d been stupid enough to play hero.

"If only I’d caught that bastard before we reached the road," he thought bitterly, clenching his unfamiliar fists. "If only... I’d been fast enough."

"But wait." Henry froze, his analytical mind finally catching up. "If I died... then how am I thinking right now?"

He looked down at himself properly for the first time; Black trousers. A white tunic threaded with faint silver lines that seemed to pulse with their own light. And a body that was definitely, absolutely, 100% not his original one.

He now had a sharp jawline. Lean muscle. With hands that looked like they’d actually seen physical labor.

And then it hit him.

"No fucking way," Henry breathed, a grin slowly spreading across his face despite everything. "I’ve been reincarnated. I’ve actually been isekai’d."

As an otaku who’d consumed more anime and manga than actual nutritious food, Henry knew exactly what this meant. He was in another world. He’d been given a second chance at life.

His excitement lasted exactly three seconds before reality reasserted itself.

"Wait. If I got reincarnated into this body, that means..." His gaze drifted to a blood-stained rock near where his head had been. "The previous owner of this body is dead,"

He’d fallen into this pit, hit his head, and that was it.

"Poor guy," Henry muttered, standing up and surveying his muddy prison. The walls were sheer, slick, and at least twenty feet high. He craned his neck to look up at the distant rim of the pit, "Now... how he hell am I supposed to get out of this place?"

His eyes scanned the surrounding, looking for any sort of escape route. And that’s when he spotted it:

A faint blue light blinking weakly at the base of the far wall. It was coming from something metallic.

Henry’s eyes widened as he scrambled over to it, his otaku senses tingling.

It was a drone.

But not just any drone... this was a sleek, chrome-plated piece of advanced technology that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. One side was completely smashed, wires dangling like mechanical entrails, but the rotor arms were still intact. Long, thin struts with carbon fiber propeller blades that gleamed even through the mud.

"Holy shit," Henry whispered, carefully extracting it from the muck. "This world has futuristic tech?"

The drone wheezed pathetically, one blue lens flickering like it was trying to stay conscious. Henry almost felt bad for it.

"Sorry, little guy," he said, his mind already racing through calculations and possibilities. "But right now, you’re my way out of here."

He studied the pit walls—completely sheer, no handholds, impossible to climb normally. But with the drone’s rotor arms... he might stand a chance.

Henry grinned, his inner engineer awakening. "Time for some improvised rock climbing. MacGyver meets Attack on Titan. Let’s do this."

He yanked one rotor arm free with a metallic groan, testing its weight and durability. The carbon fiber blades were sharp—sharp enough to dig into mud and hold his weight. But also sharp enough to slice his hands open if he gripped them too tight.

His gaze dropped to his white tunic, already torn along one shoulder.

"When in doubt," Henry muttered, gripping the hem of his sleeve, "sacrifice fashion for survival."

He tore both sleeves off, wrapping the fabric tightly around the rotor bases to create makeshift grips. A few test squeezes confirmed they’d hold without cutting through to skin.

"Alright," Henry said, facing the wall with both improvised climbing tools in hand. "Let’s see if all those hours watching survival anime actually paid off."

He drove the first rotor into the wall.

Thunk.

Mud splattered, but the blade sank deep and held firm. He pulled himself up, jammed the second rotor higher, and repeated the motion.

Then slowly, Henry began to climb.

His arms burned. His shoulders screamed. Sweat mixed with mud on his face, stinging his eyes. But he kept moving, one stab at a time, his mathematician’s brain calculating angles and weight distribution with every placement.

Halfway up, his foot slipped.

His stomach dropped, but pure instinct saved him—both rotors jammed into the wall simultaneously, arresting his fall. He hung there, breathing hard, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Note to self," he panted, "gravity is not your friend."

But Henry didn’t give up. He’d survived eighteen years in an orphanage on stubbornness alone. A muddy pit wasn’t going to beat him now.

He climbed. And climbed. And kept climbing until finally, his hand crested the edge of the pit.

With a final surge of effort, Henry hauled himself over the rim and collapsed onto solid ground, gasping for air. The broken rotors clattered beside him, gleaming faintly in the gray light filtering through the canopy above.

He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, letting the victory sink in. Until...

Grrrrrrrr.

A growl echoed from the bushes

Henry’s laughter died in his throat.

Another growl followed. And another. And another.

Then from the shadows between the trees, several eyes glinted... yellow, unblinking, and predatory. Shapes moved through the bush and finally appeared. They were huge. Four-legged. Muscles rippling beneath coarse fur. Teeth gleaming in the dim light.

Henry’s stomach dropped.

Wolves.

But these weren’t normal wolves.

These were monsters.

Each one stood as tall as a baby giraffe, their hulking forms covered in coarse black fur. Their eyes burned red with feral madness. Rows of jagged fangs jutted from massive jaws, glistening with saliva. Their claws—curved like scythes—gouged deep trenches in the earth with every step.

Henry’s mouth went dry. "...What the hell are these things?"

The beasts spread out, forming a crescent around him. Their growls deepened, resonating in his chest like a physical pressure. Every instinct Henry had screamed RUN.

But logic cut through the panic:

"Even if I run they’ll catch me," his mind raced. "They know this forest better than I do. I’ll be dead before I even make it ten steps."

"This is fine," Henry muttered, backing away slowly, his voice cracking. "Totally fine. Just me, my nonexistent combat training, and five kaiju wolves. No big deal."

The beasts advanced with him, step for deliberate step. They were toying with him. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Henry’s mind raced through options: "Fight? With what? Run? They’re faster. Play dead? They’ll eat me anyway. Scream? Who’s going to hear"

There was nothing he could do. He was totally screwed. But then...

ROAR!

A loud roar tore through the forest. It was colossal and bone-rattling. The sheer force of it punched the air from Henry’s lungs and shook the ground beneath his feet.

His knees nearly buckled. "What the fuck was that?!" he thought. "That did not sound like a normal lion."

Even the monstrous wolves faltered. Their heads whipped toward the source of the roar, hackles raised, and they whimpered.

"If these things are scared," Henry thought. "then what the hell is coming?"

The answer emerged a heartbeat later.

The trees shuddered. Branches snapped like toothpicks. Something massive moved through the undergrowth, each footfall shaking the earth like a localized earthquake.

Then it stepped into view.

It was a lion.

But calling it a "lion" was like calling a nuclear bomb a "firecracker."

The beast towered at nearly ten feet, its body thick with golden muscle that rippled with every movement. Two enormous saber-like fangs jutted from its maw—gleaming white, sharp enough to cleave through steel. And its mane...

Its mane was on fire.

Not metaphorically. Actual flames—crackling, hissing, spilling golden-red light across the clearing. The air itself grew hot and heavy, pressing down on Henry like a physical weight.

"Am I in hell?" Henry whispered. "Did I actually go to hell?"

The fire-maned king’s molten eyes swept across the pack of giant wolves. The monsters that had been about to tear Henry apart moments ago now trembled, tails tucked, whimpering like scolded puppies.

Then those burning eyes locked onto Henry.

Time stopped.

In that single, horrible moment, Henry understood what it meant to be prey. Not just hunted. Prey. At the absolute bottom of the food chain, staring up at the apex predator.

The lion roared again and took a step toward him.

Henry’s body betrayed him. His legs locked up, refusing to move. His hands shook so violently he nearly dropped the rotors. His heart slammed against his ribs so hard he thought it might actually burst.

"Move, dammit!" his brain screamed. "RUN! DO SOMETHING!"

But his body wouldn’t obey.

The lion took another step. The wolves parted immediately, clearing a path for their king.

Then one of them... the largest, probably the alpha, did something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

It stepped into the lion’s path.

The alpha’s hackles rose. A low, challenging growl rumbled from its chest. It was claiming territory. Standing its ground against a god.

The fire-maned lion paused, its gaze lowering to the wolf. There was no anger in those molten eyes. No rage. Just... indifference. Like a human noticing an ant blocking their path.

The alpha didn’t hesitate. With a feral snarl, it launched itself at the lion’s throat.

The lion raised one massive paw almost lazily and smacked the wolf before it could even get a chance to land a hit.

CRACK.

The sound was sickening—muffled by fur and flesh but carrying the unmistakable crunch of bone. The alpha’s head snapped sideways from the impact, and it crashed to the ground, convulsing.

The other wolves watched in frozen horror as their leader thrashed weakly beneath the lion’s paw. They shifted nervously, whining, but none dared to interfere.

Then the lion’s paw ignited.

Golden-red flames erupted from the padded underside, searing directly into the wolf’s skull. The alpha’s scream was inhuman—a sound of pure, unfiltered agony that would haunt Henry for the rest of his life.

The wolf’s face melted. Fur crackled and burned away, revealing charred flesh and bone beneath. Thick smoke curled upward, carrying the nauseating stench of burning meat.

Henry’s stomach lurched. He wanted to look away. But he couldn’t.

The lion lifted its flaming paw, revealing the mangled, smoking remains of the alpha’s head. Then, with casual barbarity, it opened its jaws and bit down on the wolf’s neck.

CRUNCH.

Bone shattered. Flesh tore. The lion jerked its head violently to the side, and the alpha’s body split—upper half separating from lower in a spray of blood that painted the forest floor.

The remaining wolves didn’t wait. They bolted, disappearing into the shadows, leaving their mutilated leader and the paralyzed human behind.

The lion tossed the corpse aside like garbage, blood dripping from its fangs. Then it threw its head back and roared.

The sound broke whatever spell had frozen Henry in place.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. He spun and ran.

The lion noticed immediately. Its burning eyes narrowed, and with terrifying speed, it chased after Henry.

Henry had barely made it ten feet when he felt the heat closing in. He could hear the beast’s heavy breathing, feel the thunder of its paws gaining on him with impossible swiftness.

He wove between trees, branches whipping his face, lungs burning, legs pumping with everything he had.

But then... he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

He looked back.

And in that moment of distraction, his foot caught on a gnarled tree root and he stumbled to the ground.

Henry went down hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. Pain exploded through his body, but it barely registered because the lion was already there.

It charged, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Its flaming claws extended, aimed directly at Henry’s skull.

Henry’s mind shut down completely. No thoughts. No plans. Just blind, primal terror.

He threw both arms over his head in a futile, instinctive shield and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the searing pain, the crushing impact, the end.

But the end never came.

He felt nothing. No heat. No pain. No crushing weight.

Nothing at all.

Slowly, cautiously, Henry lowered his arms and opened his eyes. And what he saw baffled him.

The lion was frozen.

Completely, utterly suspended in time. Its massive paw hung just inches from Henry’s face. Its jaws were wide in a silent snarl. Half its colossal body was caught mid-leap, defying gravity.

Henry’s breath caught. "Wh... what the hell...?"

Then he realized: it wasn’t just the lion.

Everything was frozen.

The trees stood perfectly still, not a single leaf moving. Birds hung suspended mid-flight. A cloud of dust near his knee floated in place. Even the flames on the lion’s mane had stopped crackling, frozen in impossible stillness.

It was as though the world had been put on pause.

And Henry was the only thing still moving.

"What the fuck is happening?" he whispered.

Then...

DING.

A sharp, crystalline sound echoed inside his skull, followed by the sudden materialization of a golden, holographic screen directly in his line of sight:

[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]

Henry scrambled backward, his heart nearly stopping. "What the—?!"

The screen shimmered, text appearing in smooth, elegant script:

[Initialization Complete]

[Rejoice, Host. You have been chosen to wield the legacy of Mercury]

"Mercury?" Henry’s voice cracked. "Who the hell is that?!"

The screen responded immediately:

[Congratulations, you have received the Celestial (God of Speed) System]

Henry stared at the impossible words floating in front of him. At the frozen lion. At the paused world. At his trembling hands.

Then he let out a long, shaky breath.

"You have got to be kidding me."

....To be continued in Celestial Speed: Mercury’s Legacy

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