Reincarnated As Fenrir The God Of Chaos

Fenrir's gaze hardened—he wasn't about to let this thing take him. With a swift turn, he unleashed a massive blast of frost breath against the beam, ice crackling as it clashed with the energy.

He had won. But before he could revel in his victory, his body suddenly shrank, his massive form sinking down.

Then—THUD.

He crashed into the ground, the force of his landing creating a crater beneath him. Yet, despite the impact, he felt no pain.

Slowly, he stood, eyes narrowing as he glared at the sky. No other beam came. He wasn't foolish—he knew what this was. The gods. The moment his true self had awakened, they had responded. He could feel it in the energy of the beam. It hadn't been meant to harm him—it was meant to take him. To drag him to the realms above.

He wouldn't allow it.

He had made a promise to protect Rose, and now, with this power, he could change everything. Stop the wars. Do what no god had done before. The revelation of his own divinity had shaken him, but at the same time, he felt… whole. As if a missing piece of himself had finally fallen into place.

Yet, another thought lingered—one far less comforting. He would outlive the people he cared about. Rose, Aria… all of them. The weight of it pressed against his chest, but he shook the thought away. 

With that, he turned back toward the inn, determined to keep his promise.

As he entered the town, the people stared in shock before, one by one, they dropped to their knees before him.

Shit. How am I supposed to handle this?

Before he could say anything, the townspeople suddenly collapsed, their bodies falling into unconsciousness like puppets with cut strings.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Fenrir spun around, his instincts screaming danger.

Standing behind him was a woman—no, a goddess.

Her hair was the deep red of blooming roses, cascading down her back like silk. Her eyes, a piercing crimson, locked onto him with an unreadable expression. Her flawless skin seemed to glow under the moonlight, exuding an aura of undeniable divinity.

His heart pounded, a strange, unfamiliar feeling twisting inside him.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes. "My apologies, but who are you?"

The woman gave a graceful smile. "I am Flora, the Goddess of Flowers."

She was stunning—her flowing white dress hugged her form in all the right places, exuding elegance and power. Fenrir swallowed hard, an unfamiliar heat rising in his chest.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Flora sighed, crossing her arms. "Please control yourself. 

Fenrir snapped out of it, shaking his head. "I-I'm sorry. I've never felt anything like this before."

"I accept your apology," Flora said calmly.

Then, extending her hand, she continued, "Now, onto the matter at hand—come with me."

Fenrir eyed her hand but didn't move. "I'm not going anywhere."

Flora sighed and lowered her hand. "Then I must warn you—it is against the law for any god to reside among humans or interfere in their affairs."

A low growl rumbled in Fenrir's throat. "And why is that, exactly? Why can't gods interfere?"

"This law was created by Odin himself. 

Fenrir narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't answer my question. Why do you let humans suffer?"

Flora hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm not the one you should be asking. There are a few gods who wish to help, but we can't. If we interfere, we'll be imprisoned—or worse."

So Odin ruled Asgard with an iron grip. Figures, Fenrir thought, his eyes narrowing.

Flora met his gaze, her expression turning grave. "I should warn you—Odin will send gods to remove you from this world."

Fenrir scoffed. "Let them come." His growl rumbled through the air as divine energy crackled around him. He was the God of Chaos—that had to mean something.

Flora's eyes widened, her breath hitching as she sensed the raw power radiating from him. "Wait… You're the God of Chaos?"

Before he could respond, she suddenly rushed forward, running her fingers through his fur.

Fenrir froze, completely stunned. What the hell is happening?

"So… you're the wolf from the prophecy," she murmured.

His ears flicked back. "What prophecy?"

Flora took a step back, lowering her voice. "Listen carefully—I won't tell the gods about you. I despise them as much as you do. But you must remain hidden. If Odin discovers who you are, he'll destroy this world in an instant."

Fenrir's body tensed. "What?! Why?"

"You are fated to destroy Asgard," she whispered. "And from its ashes, a new world will rise. Many have been waiting for this. The oppressed, the forsaken—the other realms will seek you out to lead them into battle."

Fenrir's mind swirled with questions. What kind of twisted fate is this?

"Listen, lady, I'm not going to destroy Asgard or anything like that. Trust me, I want nothing to do with the gods. Sure, I don't like them, but—"

"You don't understand!" Flora cut him off, frustration lacing her voice. "There are beings suffering under their grip! There is no justice! Lower-ranking gods are treated like garbage."

Fenrir paused, her words sinking in. Even the gods suffered under their own kind?

It was an unexpected turn of events, but still… He wasn't about to fight their battles. Hell, I'm only five years old in this wolf body. I don't have the experience to take on something like this. He shook his head.

"Flora, it was nice meeting you," he said, his voice firm. "But my answer stays the same."

Without another word, he turned away.

"And what are you going to do when they come for you?" Flora's voice rang out behind him.

He paused. They will come, won't they? He'd be forced to fight. The thought stirred something deep inside him—the chaos within him coiling at the very idea. Even if victory was not certain, he refused to let them take him.

Slowly, he turned his head back toward her, his eyes gleaming with resolve.

"I will unleash chaos."