Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race

Rygar stood before a broad, empty space in the clearing, surrounded by shattered stones and patches of earth scattered with small craters. This clearing served as his testing ground—a place where he could experiment freely without worrying about damaging the village or endangering its residents. Yet, even here, the dangers of his practices were ever-present. He was about to test a new concept he'd been developing: vacuum magic.

"If I can control the pressure and create a stable area..." he murmured, focusing mana into his hands.

The concept involved creating a space devoid of air, generating a vacuum field. With this, he hoped to recreate techniques similar to Danzo Shimura's vacuum abilities and amplify his fire explosions. He channeled mana in a specific pattern, attempting to mold the magic with precision... or at least trying to. The required level of control was far beyond what he anticipated.

The result was catastrophic. The unstable magic compressed into a singularity before violently exploding.

Rygar felt the imminent danger of death—a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. His body reacted instinctively, using Flash Step to dart out of the danger zone.

A shockwave erupted in one direction, while a sharp, blade-like rift of compressed air shot in the opposite direction, striking one of the millennia-old trees in the distance. The colossal trunk was sliced cleanly as if it were paper, and the massive tree toppled with a thunderous crash that echoed through the forest.

Rygar staggered back, his heart pounding. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he stared at the devastation he'd caused.

"That was too close..." he exhaled deeply, trying to steady his nerves. "One mistake, and I could've been killed."

He had severely underestimated the level of control required to wield vacuum magic. The precision needed was likely at a molecular level.

Determined to avoid such near-death experiences, he resolved to significantly improve his control before attempting any similarly dangerous magic again. Experimentation shouldn't feel like gambling with his life. Returning to his scattered notes, he began mentally cataloging the possibilities and limitations of the magical elements he mastered.

He recalled the day he tried channeling the maximum amount of mana into an Explosion spell. The flames, normally orange, shifted to yellow and then to a fierce blue, indicating an exponentially higher temperature and destructive potential. The intense heat was still fresh in his memory. (If I gain enough control over fire, could I do something like Yamamoto's Bankai?) The idea fascinated and terrified him in equal measure. Flames of that magnitude would be devastating—to his enemies and himself, if mismanaged.

Looking down at the ground, he remembered the Saint-level Earth magic Colossus Fortress. After mastering its structure, he could rapidly create platforms and reshape them as needed. It revolutionized his battlefield mobility, enabling him to leap, dodge, and craft impromptu structures with ease. Yet, he aspired for something greater—control at a molecular level.

Water magic, however, left him unsatisfied. While useful for creating ice, it didn't seem as versatile. (Maybe if I focus on pressurizing water...) He pondered whether he was overlooking something or if the element's limitations were inherent. He hoped that exploring the Saint-level Water magic his master Verdia mentioned—one that involved rainstorms and lightning—might provide inspiration.

Barrier magic was another challenge. While some barriers, like Elemental Magic Barrier and Intermediate Physical Barrier, were practical, most had highly specific purposes, such as sealing or blocking particular forces. Creating a fast, versatile barrier was still beyond his reach. Unfortunately, his lack of talent in the field made casting barrier spells without incantations difficult, though he'd managed the Magic Barrier through sheer effort.

Healing magic, on the other hand, was an area of rapid progress. His current goal was to heal without direct contact, aiming for something akin to continuous regeneration. His initial results were promising. Having reached an advanced level in detoxification magic, he decided to set it aside temporarily to focus on more pressing pursuits.

Rygar sighed as his thoughts drifted to his curiosity about summoning and teleportation magic. (If only there was someone to teach me...) Unfortunately, according to Verdia, these magics seemed to be lost to time. It was something he'd have to uncover on his own if he chose to pursue them. Failing that, he resolved to visit the Flying Fortress of the Armored Dragon King someday—home to the greatest summoner.

Among the magics he wanted to create, lightning magic was a top priority. Inspired by the storms conjured through Saint-level Water magic, he planned to use it as a foundation. Additionally, he aimed to refine Howling Magic. If he could control its intensity and apply it on a larger scale, it might resemble the Conqueror's Haki from One Piece—a technique that intimidated and subdued foes in his vicinity. The idea was clear: turn experiments into practical tools.

As he ran through the forest back to the village, Rygar contemplated the possibilities and limitations he faced. His magic was progressing well—both traditional and experimental. But his advancement in his sword techniques worried him. Still, today's accident with vacuum magic served as a stark reminder of how far he had to go.

When Rygar arrived at the village, he saw Kilian training a group of children and adults in the training field, including Linia and Pursena. Approaching, he called out:

"Kilian, come with me."

Though only seven years old, Kilian displayed unwavering dedication to the Iron Legion. His efforts to train everyone while managing administrative tasks made Rygar consider him his right-hand man—a role Kilian seemed thrilled to fulfill.

Kilian quickly followed, trailing Rygar to a more secluded area. There, he began his report.

"Taes is nearly at the advanced level. He'll be ready to follow you when you leave."

Rygar nodded, satisfied. He was considering establishing an external branch of the Iron Legion, and Taes, who was both talented and mature, seemed like the ideal leader. At almost eleven years old, Taes showed promise, which was why Rygar had asked Kilian to monitor his progress closely.

Kilian continued, detailing the children's and adults' progress. Lisena excelled in water magic, particularly ice, but struggled in close combat. Taes, on the other hand, showed a natural affinity for the North God Style practiced by the tribe. However, starting later than others meant his magic proficiency only reached the intermediate level, with his mana reserves being modest.

Among the adults, many were learning magic—although they could not use incantation-free casting—but most joined for the unique physical exercises Rygar introduced, courtesy of his grappling expertise from his previous life. Rygar listened intently, analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of each member.

"Have you found any solutions for the swords?" he asked after the report.

"No. The tribe doesn't have the best blacksmiths, and we certainly don't have a sword capable of withstanding your magical enhancements," Kilian replied, disheartened.

Rygar glanced at the sword on his waist. "Alright, let me know if there's any news."

He then dismissed Kilian.

---

By late afternoon, Rygar reached Fendrel's home. He heard laughter and animated voices as he approached, leaping to the treetop house. Fendrel and Garu were there, seated with full mugs, and to his surprise, his father Hontar was also present. It was rare to see him in moments of relaxation, but here he seemed at ease, chatting casually with the others.

"Ah, Rygar!" Fendrel exclaimed as he saw Rygar approaching. "The prodigy of the Doldia tribe decides to bless us with his presence."

"Oh? Did you muster some courage after drinking, Fendrel?" Rygar replied with a playful smile. He knew it was a joke, but the compliments still made him slightly uncomfortable.

"Hahahaha, have you forgotten you can no longer beat him, Fendrel?" Garu said as he finished the rest of his mug. "Come, sit down."

Hontar inclined his head in acknowledgment, and Rygar felt the familiar warmth of being among trusted people. He settled onto one of the benches and accepted a mug Fendrel handed him.

"So, what brings you here?" Hontar asked, looking directly at Rygar. "It's not every day you join us for moments like these."

Rygar hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I'm... struggling," he admitted. "I want to reach the Saint level in the Sword God Style, but I feel like I've hit a wall. The more I train, the more I realize how far I am from it."

Hontar smiled, a mix of pride and understanding in his expression.

"You're far from it because you're aiming for something great, Rygar. No one reaches the Saint level without effort. Even the greatest masters faced challenges."

"But there's no need to rush," Fendrel added, gesturing with his mug. "I've seen plenty of warriors, and none of them came close to achieving what you can do at your age. You're the most talented we've ever seen, kid."

"And that's the problem," Rygar said, letting out a sigh. "Everyone expects me to overcome these challenges quickly. I expect it of myself, too."

"That's the weight of talent," Garu commented, resting his chin on his hand. "But let me tell you something: talent isn't everything. Resilience, patience, and the ability to learn from mistakes are just as important."

Hontar nodded in agreement.

"Garu's right. Remember, Rygar, the path to strength isn't a race. It's a journey. You have time. If you keep training, you'll reach the Saint level sooner or later."

"I think the reason for this might be a lack of real danger," Rygar explained. "My techniques are improving, but my battle instincts aren't being challenged, which is also why I haven't lost control anymore."

Fendrel, a swordsman at the Saint level, had lost an arm to an old friend, leaving him without the strength to represent a challenge.

"That is indeed a problem. Moreover, you don't have a clear example to follow. You've seen the Longsword of Light, but it would help if I could show you now. At the Sword Sanctuary, you'd always have stronger opponents to face," Fendrel said.

Hontar chimed in, "There aren't many beasts that would challenge you unless you used only your sword, but you'd always feel like you could escape easily with magic."

The conversation flowed naturally from there, with the three warriors sharing stories and advice.

At some point, Garu suggested, "You said you exhaust your mana every day, right? Why not go into battle with those beasts after spending your mana? That way, you wouldn't have magic at your disposal."

Rygar was surprised. "That... is actually a great idea..."

Fendrel added, "That could work, but I think you need to train for that type of combat first. You're too used to fighting with your magic. If you fought an A-Rank monster without magic now, you'd lose badly, even with your supernatural strength."

Hontar offered his perspective.

"I agree. Besides, if you really want to make this battle your spark, your techniques must be as refined as possible."

Garu nodded in agreement.

Rygar listened attentively to their advice. But then Fendrel shifted the tone of the conversation to something lighter.

"Now, changing the subject, are you into your master, kid?" Fendrel was already laughing before Rygar could respond.

Rygar was caught off guard, surprised by the abrupt change of topic.

"It's not... it's not like that..." He tried to steer the conversation away, but Fendrel pressed on relentlessly.

"Hoh? So you're planning to marry one of the two heiresses and become the leader of the tribe? Or maybe both?!"

Hontar rolled his eyes, but a faint smile escaped.

Rygar replied more seriously, "Actually, I see them as my little sisters, or maybe disciples."

"Then you're not denying Verdia?!" Fendrel countered, laughing loudly.

Rygar realized he'd fallen into a trap.

Laughter echoed through the porch, breaking any remaining tension. Even Rygar couldn't help but laugh. Moments like these reminded him that, despite his challenges and responsibilities, he was part of a community that supported him.

After a few more stories, the conversation returned to combat-related topics.

"Rygar, you've been experimenting with magic while training in the Sword God Style, right?" Garu asked.

"Yes, I've been trying to integrate magic into combat," Rygar replied. "It's not easy, but I've had some successes. I need to find ways to do it without losing the advantages of the style."

"That's something only you can figure out," Fendrel said. "No one else is combining magic with sword techniques at your level. It's uncharted territory."

"But don't let it overwhelm you," Hontar added. "You have time. Remember, even the greatest warriors had to learn slowly."

Rygar nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. He knew there was still a long road ahead, but he also knew he had the support of those around him.

As night fell, they continued talking, alternating between battle stories and lighthearted moments. Rygar left that meeting with a new perspective, determined to follow his path without rushing but with unwavering determination.

Back at his house, Rygar sat at his desk, picking up his notebook again. He reviewed his ideas, adjusted strategies, and made plans for the coming days. Despite his fatigue, he felt clearer about the path he needed to take.

"Talent without effort is useless. Strength without purpose is waste."

Even with his resilience, this night reminded him of one thing. In his past life, he'd worked hard, sacrificing many things for his "future," only to die with no one to blame but himself.

He decided that even while dedicating himself to training, he would remember what he was trying to achieve. He would remember to enjoy life with the people he sought to protect. And even with his lofty goals, he wouldn't forget his roots, where he came from, and who supported him along the way.

As he turned off the light and lay down, Rygar no longer felt the same anxiety that had haunted him before. The day had been long and productive, and he was ready to face whatever came next.