Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race-Chapter 212 - Sensory Deprivation and the Hazywalker’s Final Card

Chapter 212: 212 - Sensory Deprivation and the Hazywalker’s Final Card

The Sacred Country of Milis was pulling out all its cards.

To withstand the invasion of the Beast God, nothing less than everything would be acceptable.

Every magical item, every spell knowledge, every warrior was dragged into the battle. After all, victory and defeat in this battle would decide the future of the Kingdom and even the entire Continent.

Usually, a unification of this magnitude would be unthinkable for an ancient country like Milis, fractured by factions, political disputes, and conflicting sides fighting behind the scenes of the capital.

But, faced with an enemy considered invincible, each of them chose to put aside their grudges and focus on making Milis survive this trial.

The Orders of Instruction, of the Church and the Temple, the various Noble Houses, the Royalty, the High Clergy, and the Knight units. All, without exception, participated and collaborated in the defense preparations.

During the initial stages of the war there were still divergences and discord, but now, with the Iron Legion marching through the streets of the Sacred Capital and the Beast God dueling with the Divine Warrior, any hesitation had dissipated.

It was all or nothing.

From the intensive use of the Seven Magic Towers, pushed to the limit of their capacity, to the activation of magical items with mystical effects, such as the Mirror of the Fourth Direction, capable of reflecting its target and creating three conscious copies, and the Silver Blood and Golden Bones Armor, forged from the remains of an ancient dragon killed by a hero.

Nothing was spared.

Even the few King-level mages, aged elders who had not entered combat for decades, were summoned and gathered around altars and halls to cast collective spells.

And everyone knew that, in the end, most of this preparation boiled down to killing a single man.

And for that, an even more lethal weapon was about to be used.

It was a new Barrier, its method revealed directly to Pope Lucios in his dreams.

It was through his Divine Visions that Milis obtained the Sensory Deprivation Barrier.

A magic that, initially, sounded laughable.

Milis already possessed dozens of barriers capable of blocking senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch... But none could block what made Rygar truly lethal: his sixth sense.

Even if his eyes were blinded and his ears silenced, even if his entire body were immobilized and deprived of sensory feedback, the Beast God could still react to danger.

His instinct was supernaturally dangerous. It was also what allowed him to predict attacks and act with superhuman reflexes.

And it was precisely this instinct that the Sensory Deprivation Barrier sought to nullify.

The ritual to cast it required very specific conditions, which were only now being met.

Moreover, they did not know how long this could hold the Beast God, so they would have to use everything they had.

That is why, alongside this barrier, another artifact would come into action: the Hazywalker Cloak.

A cloak with enchantments that allowed its wearer to hide from all five senses. It was the perfection of stealth. Even the most sensitive of Demon Eyes could not detect it.

Perhaps the Demon Empress could, however.

This combination formed one of Milis’s final cards. The ultimate attack; if it failed, only desperate measures would remain.

If the offensive against the Iron Legion were to succeed, it would need to begin with the elimination of its leader. Only after the fall of the Beast God would there be room for any other plan to materialize.

And now, wrapped in the magical cloak, the Hazywalker moved without sound, without shape, without smell or presence. ƒreewebɳovel.com

He crossed the fields of destruction left by Rygar’s battle, drawing ever closer to his target.

Meanwhile, ten priests positioned themselves at the cardinal points of the ruins, preparing the Emperor-level spell that would completely eliminate the senses of the Beast God.

And also, silent, a lone knight of very ordinary appearance walked firmly toward a magic circle.

---

Rygar was close to victory. All that remained now was to accumulate mana and cast a single spell that would be quick and lethal.

A dozen desperate warriors surrounded him, filled with grim determination, and Galgard was also attacking him relentlessly, not giving him even a second to breathe.

To his surprise, he still had not seen the White Knight. Before the invasion, he was almost certain that they would face him at the same time, but he did not appear.

Rygar concluded that Milis had sent the swordsman to contain other champions of the Iron Legion.

That was good for him, of course—it meant Milis was weakening its own defense to counter the Legion’s strength.

But even so, he felt a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he were losing something important.

And at the moment that thought crossed his mind, Rygar gripped it fiercely. A deep unease took hold of him.

It was tenuous and abstract, like an invisible mist spreading through his mind. He felt that something was wrong.

His Sixth Sense, which had accompanied him throughout his journey, always manifested in two distinct ways.

The first, more common, was the instinctive warning of imminent danger—as if he were standing still while Galgard raised his blade to cut off his head.

In those moments, his survival instincts sounded like alarms.

This battle was dangerous enough to evoke that kind of alert occasionally, but nothing so far indicated real risk of death.

The second form, however, was more mysterious. More mystical. It was not about fights or things that could harm his body; it was more like he felt that the world was... wrong.

As if an imperceptible flaw were present in a situation around him.

And now, that feeling was with him as well. Formless, yet vivid and real.

He surveyed his surroundings without stopping the fight, for he could not allow himself to divert too much of his attention from Galgard.

Over time, Rygar had already noticed that with every clash with the Divine Warrior’s white light sword, his mana was being drained.

It was not an immediate problem, due to his vast mana reserve, but the effect was cumulative. The damage was adding up.

Even so, Rygar was still unbeatable.

He continued to fight and kill Milis’s soldiers with technique and fluidity. There was not even a window of hope for his enemies’ salvation.

And while his senses kept him alert, the ominous premonition remained. Subtle, but undeniable. It was glaringly obvious that Milis was hiding something.

A trump card, a final method to try to stop him.

But he had already expected that; after all, they would have to have at least one reason to lure him to their capital and still be confident they could kill him.

And so, Rygar began making silent preparations.

He was using everything he could to ensure he could overcome whatever Milis threw at him. All without stopping the fight.

Galgard and the others continued to press against him with everything they had. Rygar could sense—the heavy breathing, the will to kill him, the fury in their movements.

They all seemed to want nothing more than to kill him; Rygar felt no calculated coldness, so he assumed that if there was a plan, they did not know it.

In any case, to him, they were no more than secondary pieces. Important, perhaps, but expendable.

It was increasingly clear that Milis was running out of soldiers. The second most powerful nation in the world could be strong, but it was not an infinite force, after all.

As these thoughts passed through his mind, Rygar unleashed a powerful fiery explosion, sending everything into the air. It was at that instant that his battle instincts warned him again.

He reacted at once.

He used the Burst Step, and in the blink of an eye, he was no longer there. A new spell exploded exactly where he had been a moment before. A cutting chill took hold of everything.

The Absolute Zero. The temperature plummeted as if a new glacial era had been summoned directly over Milishion.

Ice spread everywhere, engulfing ruins, freezing the air, paralyzing anything alive.

Rygar, with his Demon Eyes, saw Galgard and a few others opening a pre-prepared barrier, probably designed specifically to withstand that particular spell.

But he had no time to analyze anything.

Absolute Zero followed his trail like an invisible assassin, freezing even debris in midair before it touched the ground.

Some soldiers and corpses were engulfed, turned into ice statues, crystallized in poses of eternal terror.

Rygar accelerated once again, ignoring the destruction he left behind. Only when he escaped the reach of the Emperor-level spell did he finally stop and take a deep breath.

"That was some dangerous shit..." he murmured to himself. Not that there had been a real chance of being hit, but it was admirable that they were trying with such effort.

After all, a large part of Milishion had been completely frozen by that spell.

He thought about heading to destroy another of the Magic Towers.

But before he could decide, his instincts flared with an intensity he had felt only a few times in his life.

Something was very wrong.

His eyes narrowed as he realized he had stepped into a new large-scale magic circle.

He still had not analyzed the type of magic, but his steps ceased when he spotted something ahead. A knight.

He was there, as if waiting for Rygar. Standing, motionless, like a living statue. But there was something deeply wrong.

The knight appeared inhuman. He was on the verge of death, and his presence emanated the feel of a corpse; there was nothing alive about him.

That is why Rygar did not notice him before he approached. The man had the presence of a dead body; why would he pay attention to a random corpse?

The knight’s hands were caked with fresh blood. At his feet lay two bloody eyeballs.

His eye sockets were empty, and where his nose should have been there was only a bloody hole.

His ears had been torn off, leaving raw cavities, and the skin of his face had been removed, revealing raw flesh.

His teeth were scattered on the ground, shattered as if ripped out by bare hands. A vision of absolute horror.

But the worst of all happened before Rygar’s own eyes.

The dead man lifted the trembling hand to his chest.

Without hesitation, he plunged his fingers into the flesh and tore out his own heart in a brutal manner, holding it aloft like a bloody offering.

Immediately, Rygar activated his Demon Eyes to their maximum. Everything slowed around him. Time seemed to bend before his supernatural perception.

Without hesitation, he began to use the Lightning Step—his fastest movement technique. His instincts screamed in alarm.

Seeing everything in slow motion, he saw high-level Concealment Barriers all around.

As Rygar had already suspected, it was an ambush. Although perhaps it could not even be called that since the target was aware.

With his thoughts racing, Rygar was now certain that that man was performing some kind of Ritualistic Magic.

Although very unusual and extremely archaic, his master had mentioned that there existed forbidden and forgotten magics based on sacrificial actions.

That was probably one of them. And since his Sixth Sense was reacting so strongly, it was a magic that posed great danger to him.

He saw everything. He felt everything. Escape seemed within reach. It was only a matter of using Lightning Step and forcefully breaking any Barrier blocking his escape.

But then—everything went dark.

Suddenly, as if a black veil fell over him, Rygar’s five senses disappeared.

Sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell—all were ripped away in a single instant. A chill invaded his chest as he reacted instantly.

He began to use Disturb Magic, attempting to interrupt the magic’s action on his body, and eventually cancel it.

But then, his mana was interrupted too. Silence. Emptiness. Darkness. Total isolation. He felt nothing.

Still, his mind remained calm. He had never had all his senses sealed by magic at the same time, but he had experienced them individually in his other attacks.

Obviously, he considered that Milis could do this on a wider scale. So, he had already trained in similar situations to adapt.

Up to that point, he still believed he could escape—instinctively, forcing his body out of the magical influence zone, or, if necessary, trying to overload the Barriers with mana even blind.

The situation was dire. But it was not certain death.

Until he felt another loss.

Something terrible. Something that could not be described as a simple physical or magical loss.

Something that was part of his own essence—it was torn away.

It was not a physical restriction. It was not a magical restriction. It was not a common sense. It was more than that.

It was his Sixth Sense.

The instinct that had accompanied him throughout his life. The spark that guided him even in the darkest moments.

That which made chaos seem navigable, which allowed him to trust in his omens, survive where others would die.

It was sealed.

And then, for the first time in many years...

Rygar felt truly vulnerable.

At that very moment, a curved red dagger pierced Rygar’s back, stabbing into his chest.

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