I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Finally, Clavor effortlessly blocked one of his son’s strikes, their wooden swords colliding with a sharp crack.

"Remember one thing." He looked directly into Lukas’s violet eyes, his expression serious.

"A weak swordsman believes he wins because he is strong."

He slowly lowered his sword, never taking his eyes off his son.

"A true swordsman wins because he makes fewer mistakes."

Lukas etched those words into his memory, feeling their weight. He knew he would never forget them.

...

When the technical training ended, Clavor retrieved a water bottle from his backpack. The two of them took a few drinks, the cool water quenching their thirst.

Then the man pointed once more at the sword Lukas was holding.

"Now the second part begins."

Lukas tilted his head, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

"There’s more?"

Clavor smiled, a smile filled with challenge.

"Much more."

He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the wooden sword.

"I want you to carry this sword all the time."

He handed the weapon back to his son, positioning it properly in his hands.

"While running, squatting, jumping, and climbing. During every physical exercise."

Lukas looked at the sword, his mind processing the instruction. Then he looked at his father, his eyes full of questions.

"All the time?"

"All the time." Clavor nodded firmly.

"I want your body to stop seeing it as a foreign object. I want it to become an extension of your own arm."

Those words made Lukas hold his breath. An extension of his own body.

Clavor continued, his voice growing more intense.

"I want you to run while holding it. Perform slashes while running. Jump with it. Roll with it. Fall asleep thinking about it."

He paused, his eyes meeting his son’s.

"One day, your body will stop noticing that it’s carrying a sword. It will simply become a part of you. Like your hand, your foot, like your heart."

Lukas tightened his grip around the wooden hilt, feeling every texture, every mark. A broad smile once again spread across his face, lighting up his features.

"Understood, Father."

Without waiting for another command, he positioned himself at the clearing’s running path, his feet finding their place. He gripped the sword firmly, adjusting its weight in his hand. He took a deep breath.

And started running.

The wood swayed with his movements, every step making the sword dance at his side. It still felt strange, a separate object that needed to be controlled.

But with every step, with every movement, it felt a little less so. The wood was beginning to feel familiar, its weight becoming known, its presence becoming natural.

His training had entered a new stage. He was no longer merely strengthening his body. He was no longer merely learning techniques.

He was beginning to walk the true path of a Dmond swordsman.

The hours passed almost without Lukas noticing.

The running was followed by squats, jumps, climbing, and push-ups. Throughout all of them, the wooden sword remained firmly in his hand. At first, it interfered with his movements. Sometimes it got caught between branches while climbing. Other times, it slightly threw off his balance during a jump or made his arm tire more quickly.

But little by little, that began to change.

His body naturally adapted to the weapon’s presence. His fingers found the hilt without conscious thought. The weight no longer felt strange. As he ran between the trees, Clavor would occasionally call out.

"Slash!"

Lukas immediately executed a vertical slash.

"Diagonal!"

The sword traced a precise arc through the air.

"Thrust!"

The wooden tip shot forward while his feet continued moving.

Even while gasping for breath, he carried out every command without hesitation. Sweat streamed down his face, soaking his tunic and making his white hair stick to his forehead. His arms burned with exhaustion, but his determination remained unshakable.

When the sun finally began to descend toward the horizon, painting the forest in shades of gold and orange, Clavor raised a hand.

"That’s enough for today."

Lukas slowly came to a stop, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly, yet a satisfied smile remained on his face.

His first day of sword training had come to an end.

The two of them began the walk back to the Dmond Mansion in silence. The wooden sword remained firmly in Lukas’s hand throughout the entire journey, as though he no longer wanted to part with it.

When they arrived, Clavor once again prepared the stone bathtub. The dark crimson Physical Enhancement Lotion spread through the hot water, slowly tinting it red.

Lukas stepped in without the slightest hesitation.

As soon as he submerged himself up to his shoulders, the familiar warmth spread throughout his body. A few moments later, the burning sensation began, intense and deep. It felt as though hundreds of tiny flames were coursing through his muscles, reaching every fiber that had been strained during that day’s training.

He closed his eyes and remained still.

This time, however, the burning felt different. It was as though the lotion’s energy was nourishing not only his arms and legs but also the muscles responsible for every sword movement, strengthening them little by little for the challenges yet to come.

Fifteen minutes later, the burning faded, replaced by the familiar feeling of relief and lightness.

Lukas stepped out of the bath feeling completely refreshed.

After changing into clean clothes, he calmly made his way upstairs to his room.

The moment he opened the door, he found everything exactly as he had expected.

Prata had already returned from the forest and rested silently in her web near the window.

Tilbo occupied his usual corner, motionless like a vigilant sentinel.

Rourke was still fast asleep inside the small improvised nest beside the bed, completely at peace.

On top of the wardrobe, Astra watched everything in silence, her golden eyes alert.

Lukas smiled.

It seemed she had truly taken her mission seriously and had watched over the little mouse throughout the entire day.

He carefully placed the wooden sword on the bed for just a moment while changing his clothes. As soon as he finished, he picked it up again.

He slowly lay down, resting the sword against his chest, one hand wrapped firmly around its hilt.

The wood already felt strangely familiar.

From that day onward, it would accompany him through every training session... and, whenever possible, everywhere he went.

With that thought, Lukas closed his eyes.

A few moments later, exhaustion overcame him, and he fell into a deep sleep while the sword remained safely cradled in his arms, silently marking the beginning of his journey as a true swordsman of the Dmond Family.

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