Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race-Chapter 211 - Symphony of Battle, Reflections of War

While Rygar confronted Galgard in the ruins of the once-immaculate Adventurers’ District, in other corners of the sacred capital, Milishion, hundreds of other brutal confrontations unfolded.

Verdia led an assault front accompanied by Ghislaine and Gretta, cutting and smashing without hesitation through the ranks of Milis knights.

The enemies came in waves, armored, disciplined, fervent, but still were merely small obstacles before the strength of the three.

Ghislaine, like a living lightning bolt, moved among the knights, clearing paths with wide and lethal slashes. Her red sword, Hiramune, moved along nearly invisible trajectories, and wherever it passed, bodies fell in pieces.

Gretta, at her side, roared like a steel hurricane, her heavy halberd shattering shields, skulls, and torsos.

Meanwhile, Verdia remained just behind, her staff moving fluidly as she cast spell after spell, without rest.

Wind Spears sliced through the enemies with perfect accuracy, piercing armor with ease. Earth Spikes rose from the ground, impaling entire rows of holy warriors with efficiency.

Magic flowed in all directions, channeled by Verdia, but also by her enemies.

Until something changed.

Suddenly, a Barrier began to form around the three — a complex Containment Magic. It was a Movement Restriction Barrier.

And, immediately after, a second layer was added: a Mana Restriction Barrier, attempting to seal their magical capabilities.

Wasting no time, Ghislaine leapt. Her feline and powerful body ascended like a swift shadow, climbing the stones of a partially destroyed tower until she reached the top.

There, with her Demon Eye of Magical Power glowing intensely in a greenish hue, she observed all of Milishion.

She could see mana flowing wildly throughout the city, sense the points where Barriers were formed, where magic flowed, where the magic circles were located.

The entire city was like a magical field.

The Seven Magic Towers were active, and their long-range spells were being unleashed nonstop — spells of fire, ice, wind, and earth, covering the skies with destruction.

Healing spells, on the other hand, descended upon the city’s defenders at all times. This made the mission of the three even more crucial.

If they didn’t eliminate the sources of those enchantments, the Legion’s invasion would constantly be thwarted by the magical support disparity.

Ghislaine knew where to look. They had tortured and interrogated several captured soldiers, obtaining vague information about the Towers’ command centers. But now, with her own eyes, she could see.

Gretta, on the ground, fought and spun like a bloody whirlwind, her monstrous strength clearing the path without concern for defenses.

Ghislaine’s brief absence didn’t hinder her — but still, neither of them were nearly as immortal as Rygar. A single distraction could be fatal.

Verdia protected Gretta with a freshly-formed Barrier and cast healing spells between the arrows fired from her bow.

And then, Ghislaine finally saw it.

A specific point in the mana flow. A different construction — something that wasn’t one of the traditional Towers but controlled one of them.

A command mechanism. Something like a Clock Tower, camouflaged among several ordinary buildings.

She jumped from the tower with agility, and upon touching the ground, charged forward and swung her blade horizontally.

A simple, clean, and devastating slash. The enemy formation around her was swept away. The sound of bodies breaking was drowned only by the cracking of bones and the shattering of armor.

Ghislaine emerged from the cloud of blood and viscera with an unchanged expression.

"Found it."

Verdia and Gretta smiled in relief. Gretta stepped forward excitedly, wiping her halberd on the body of a fallen knight.

"So what are we waiting for?!" she shouted, already advancing in a direction.

But Ghislaine pointed with her chin in the opposite direction — the opposite side from where they believed the target to be.

"Actually, it’s the other way."

The two froze for a moment. Gretta pretended nothing happened and ran the other way. And then, without further delay, Ghislaine bolted.

Verdia and Gretta followed, carving their way through the enemies. They had only one objective.

Eliminate the Magic King.

---

In the Noble District, the clash was even fiercer. In truth, the situation was far from favorable.

Taes, with his flaming sword in hand, fought fiercely against the White Knight. The Pope’s bodyguard.

His swordplay was unpredictable and fluid, delivering slashes enveloped in flames that traced incandescent arcs through the air.

By his side, his loyal companion Freki growled and lunged like a silver lightning bolt, his fangs seeking vulnerable points in the enemy’s armor.

Against an ordinary opponent, Taes might have already won, but this was no ordinary opponent. He was a Water Emperor.

Flames and steam filled the streets, turned into charred ruins with each impact.

The buildings of the Noble District, elegant and ancient, were easily sliced by the crossed blades of the combatants.

Not far from there, Ornthorn, the North Emperor, fought with equal intensity.

His massive golden sword spun with brutality, and each strike he delivered sliced the air with power enough to cleave entire houses.

The streets were covered with deep gashes.

His green hair fluttered as he moved like a relentless predator.

Yet, even with his destructive power, he was not winning.

His opponent, calm and precise, blocked all of his attacks with a silvery blade of fluid appearance.

The White Knight. That’s right — Ornthorn was also facing the White Knight, the Water Emperor.

The same enemy that Taes faced.

And it didn’t stop there — further ahead, it was the same for Eris, who had joined Lisena and Skoll. Three fronts, three battles... against the same enemy.

The White Knight.

When the real White Knight halted their advance some time ago, they already sensed something was wrong.

But they had no way to react to the unknown — the Water Emperor turned to a mirror adorned with intricate carvings and ancient jewels, holding it in silence, and then something terrible happened.

The mirror shattered without warning. And in that instant, three identical reflections of the Knight appeared around him, each marching toward a General of the Iron Legion.

Chaos erupted for a moment. The Noble District was defended by Milis’s most powerful soldiers, and still, due to the superior force, the Legion was holding on.

But only because they were elites. They wouldn’t last much longer without their commanders.

And the White Knight was, indeed, far too powerful. Until that point, none of the three reflections had suffered even a scratch.

They countered everything: spells, arrows, direct strikes. Everything was reflected. It truly was like fighting against mirrors.

Eris did not retreat, even in front of a stronger opponent.

In a swift attack, she spun with the Phoenix Elegant Dragon Sword, the blade slicing the air as she wielded the Longsword of Light.

Her blade passed mere inches from the Knight’s armor but was deflected by the silvery blade, and she dodged just in time to escape the counterattack that surely followed.

Atop a house, Lisena raised her staff and manipulated the ice with mastery.

A forest of frozen spears rose like a wall, pressuring the White Knight and halting his pursuit. He was forced to back off and slash at the spears with wide movements.

The next moment, Skoll attacked ferociously. The wolf leapt with claws aimed downward, threatening to crush the knight, who retreated under the beast’s massive size.

Eris, taking advantage of the opening, struck again like lightning. This time, her blade did not aim for the neck or chest but for the opponent’s knee.

For the Sword God Style, which always aimed to kill in a single blow, such an attack was unthinkable.

The Knight clearly did not expect such a torturous move from Eris, and reacted a second too late.

He tried to defend, but his attention was divided between the wolf and the ice forest. Even so, his blade barely managed to block it.

The Longsword of Light lightly cut the exposed joint between the armor plates. A thin line of blood dripped. An insignificant strike.

But not for him.

The sound of glass shattering echoed. The reflection simply vanished. It didn’t dissipate. It didn’t explode. It just... disappeared, as if it had never existed.

Eris stood still for a moment, surprised. But the surprise quickly turned into a fierce smile. She understood. Skoll growled, confused, but alert.

"Lisena!" Eris shouted, "Warn the others! Any direct hit can destroy these reflections!"

She looked at Skoll with hungry eyes.

"With me!"

In the blink of an eye, she became a red blur and shot across the battlefield, rushing to support the other Legion combatants.

Skoll howled and followed her, tearing the ground in his ferocious charge.

Lisena, understanding what had happened, spun her staff and leapt off the roof, running urgently toward the field where Ornthorn faced the reflection.

The battle was far from over, but the Iron Legion now knew the secret of the reflections. And the fate of the Noble District would be decided in the next few minutes.

---

Unaware of what his subordinates were facing in other districts of Milishion, Rygar dealt with his own problems.

The battle against Galgard had surpassed the bounds of brutality and turned into something truly devastating.

However, at least regarding the Divine Warrior, Rygar had already analyzed enough to know how to kill him. Galgard was strong, yes, but predictable.

His armor was nearly impenetrable, his templar style heavy and unshakable, but not insurmountable. The real problem was everything around him.

While Rygar fought him, he also became the target of dangerous spells.

Elemental magics sliced through the air: wind blasts, columns of fire, earth spikes, frost that froze the ground, and even ice lances falling from the sky.

Containment Magic appeared around him, trying to restrict his movements or cut off his mana flow.

Rygar dodged, destroyed, absorbed, or countered, but he couldn’t stop everything. For the first time in a long while, he had to use Regeneration Magic, even if just to heal scratches.

He used his Disturb Magic to cancel the most dangerous spells, but he was alone. Just one against dozens of spellcasters positioned around the battlefield.

To make matters worse, Galgard was healed when injured or when he began to show signs of fatigue.

Not that the latter was common — the Divine Warrior’s physical strength was monstrous — but still, the support from the Milisian mages made everything harder for Rygar.

The most frustrating part was when heavily armored warriors placed themselves between Rygar and Galgard at decisive moments.

None of them were a challenge, of course — they were easily killed. But their timing was enough to disrupt lethal strikes.

It was as if the entire field was coordinated to protect Galgard at any cost.

Despite that, the Beast God continued fighting with a ferocity that bordered on the absurd. Magic flowed from his body like a torrential and untamed river.

Earth Walls rose as he moved, used as platforms to increase his mobility. Wind and Vacuum Blades cut through everything in their path.

Ice and fire covered the battlefield in waves of destruction. Lightning bolts fell from the sky, opening craters and turning enemies into ashes.

And sword-light blades descended like a divine sentence, cutting through bodies and convictions alike.

And even in the face of so many attacks, ambushes, and distractions, there was no sign of fatigue in Rygar.

He also had no wounds or scratches, thanks to Regeneration Magic.

The Battle Aura that enveloped him was overwhelming, as if war itself had incarnated within him.

So great was the strength Rygar had achieved throughout his life, that even ambushed by the world’s second most powerful military force, he was not defeated.

To some, that would sound like arrogance.

But Rygar knew his limits well and trusted his sharp instincts. His instincts always warned him of real danger.

Even so, he knew one should never fully trust them.

Even though he often reminded himself of that, it was hard to truly believe it. His enhanced senses had been with him for so long they were part of him — knowing everything had always been the norm.

And while he devastated everything around him, as the fight against Galgard dragged through ruins, broken towers, and shattered streets, two figures observed him from afar, hidden.

Hidden by an extremely advanced Concealment Barrier, stood two men.

One of them was a common Milisian knight, wearing the standard armor of the city’s protectors. The other, however, was a mysterious figure wrapped in a long black cloak.

A hood covered his head, and a white mask engraved with runes concealed his face.

Both were silent until, suddenly, a crystal embedded in the wall beside them cracked and then shattered into small silver fragments.

The knight moved slightly and spoke in a serious tone:

"It’s time... The Sensory Deprivation Barrier is ready. You’ll only have one chance. If you succeed, the Beast God will be dead and Galgard will be free to massacre the rest of the Legion..."

He paused, looking at the apocalyptic scene unfolding ahead.

"...If you fail, you’ll be dooming countless comrades."

The masked man gave no reply. Not a nod, not a sound, not even a tilt of the head. He simply vanished.

His body faded into the air like smoke on the wind. As if he had never been there.

The knight let out a slight sigh, gripping his sword hilt tighter, and murmured to himself:

"Don’t disappoint the Pope."

-----

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