I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Lukas walked through the forest without any hurry, his steps finding the ground covered in dry leaves with a familiarity that only time and repetition could bring.

The afternoon sunlight penetrated through the treetops in long golden beams, creating patches of light that moved slowly as the wind swayed the branches, as if the forest itself were dancing beneath the warmth of the day.

For the first time in many days, there was no training waiting for him. He did not need to run until his muscles burned, nor repeat hundreds of sword strikes, nor remain motionless for hours while channeling mana through the newly formed channels.

That was, officially, a day of rest, a welcome pause in the relentless routine he had been maintaining.

Even so, his mind remained restless, a silent storm stirring beneath the calm surface.

His footsteps sank softly into the carpet of dry leaves covering the forest floor, each step producing a faint rustling sound that blended with the sounds of the surroundings.

The air was cool and pleasant, filled with the scent of wood warmed by the sun, moss growing on the stones, damp earth hiding small creatures, and wildflowers that dotted the vegetation with touches of color.

It was an environment that Lukas had learned to consider almost like a second home, every tree, every stone, every familiar sound like the walls of his own room.

Beside him, Tilbo walked in silence. The ant’s enormous body made little noise despite its size, a testament to its predatory nature. Its legs touched the ground with surprising delicacy, avoiding stones and roots almost by instinct, as if the forest were an extension of its own body.

Above them, Astra took advantage of the air currents with the grace of a dancer. The eagle traced wide circles in the sky, sometimes disappearing among the treetops, other times diving back over them before rising again. Her attentive eyes examined the entire region, a silent sentinel in the vast blue.

Rourke remained nestled inside the pocket of Lukas’s tunic, his small, warm body against the fabric. Only his tiny pink snout and long whiskers appeared outside, sniffing the air with insatiable curiosity. From time to time, he moved his nose rapidly, catching the scents of the forest, before becoming still once again.

Lukas smiled discreetly, a smile that no one but his companions could see.

It was strange to think that precisely that small rat, so fragile and dependent, had awakened a completely new ability within him. An ability that connected him to a network of creatures he was only beginning to understand.

Since the previous night, his mind had returned repeatedly to the images he had witnessed. The forest is seen so close to the ground, every leaf a mountain, every stone a hill. The underground tunnels, are dark and cramped, the thick roots crossing the ceiling like natural pillars.

The countless rats live hidden in the darkness, their lives small, but meaningful. And finally, the view from the top of the tree, the Dmond Mansion stretching out below him like a toy.

Everything had seemed absurdly real, more real than any dream, more vivid than any imagination. It had not been a dream, much less an illusion. He had truly seen through the eyes of other rats, experienced the world through their perspectives.

Just remembering the sensation sent a slight shiver down his spine, a mixture of awe and uneasiness.

Even so, he did not try to use that ability again. Not yet. His body had made it clear the previous night that his mind had reached its limit after so many days of intense training. The mental exhaustion was a warning, a sign that he needed to respect his own limits.

Today, he would do everything calmly, without haste, without wasting energy.

He continued walking for several minutes, his steps leading him deeper and deeper into the forest. He was not following a specific trail, nor did he have a destination in mind. He simply let his feet choose the path, trusting his instincts.

As he advanced, the vegetation began to change. The trees became more spaced out, their trunks thicker, their canopies higher. The bushes diminished, giving way to more open low vegetation. The terrain began to rise slowly, forming a gently sloping hill that rose above the forest like a natural monument.

When he reached the top, Lukas stopped, his breathing accelerated by the effort.

Before him stood a huge flat rock, its gray and uneven surface contrasting with the surrounding greenery. It was an ancient stone, wide enough for several people to sit on at the same time, its edges rounded by time and erosion.

The surface bore the marks of time, small cracks that told stories of centuries, greenish patches of moss growing along the edges, and a few small flowers that had found space between the stone’s fissures.

All around, the view was vast and breathtaking. From that elevated point, it was possible to see much of the forest, a green sea stretching all the way to the horizon, dotted with clearings and punctuated by taller trees. The wind blew freely over the hill, cooling the surroundings and carrying the scent of the distant forest.

Lukas took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs.

”It’s perfect.”

He immediately liked the place. It was quiet, high, and open. At the same time, isolated enough that no one would interrupt them, a private sanctuary in the heart of the forest.

He turned toward his companions, his eyes moving over each of them.

”I’ll need to be alone for a while.”

Tilbo tilted his head slightly, his antennae moving in recognition. Astra landed on a nearby branch, watching him attentively with her golden eyes. Rourke poked his head out of the pocket, staring at Lukas with his small black eyes, as if asking what he intended to do.

”You can explore as much as you want.” He said calmly, his voice soft.

”Just don’t go too far.”