I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Lukas slowly closed his eyes, allowing all of his attention to sink into the silent darkness of his consciousness. The outside world vanished like a receding tide, carrying away every sound, every sensation, every distraction that had once filled his mind.

The chirping of the crickets, once a constant melody, became a distant echo. The swaying of the trees beneath the night breeze, a movement he could barely perceive.

The cool night breeze against his skin, an almost imperceptible caress. Everything became distant, as though it existed behind a thin curtain of silk, present, yet irrelevant.

Only he remained, his steady breathing, and the small moon that dwelled within his chest.

Ever since he had completed the Lunar Source, that presence had never disappeared again.

It did not matter whether he was training, walking, eating, or sleeping, it remained there, pulsing in perfect harmony with his heart, like a second heartbeat merging with the first in constant rhythm.

Before, he had needed to imagine it, focusing his mind to create the image of the moon within his chest. It had been a conscious effort, a battle against distraction.

Now, he simply perceived it, a presence as natural as the beating of his heart, as constant as his breathing.

It was a curious sensation, difficult to explain with words. It was not exactly a second heart, but neither was it merely a mass of condensed mana.

It felt like a tiny sleeping celestial body, a living jewel pulsing at his core, slowly condensing the energy absorbed over five consecutive nights. As though a fragment of the moon itself had found a home within his chest.

Clavor remained silent a few meters behind him, his presence an unmoving shadow in the moonlit clearing. His arms were crossed, his eyes fixed upon his son, yet there was no urgency in his posture.

There was nothing left to explain, nothing left to teach. The manual had already shown the path, his words had already planted the seeds. Now, everything depended on Lukas.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill his lungs. He inhaled to the count of four, feeling his chest expand.

He held his breath, the pause creating a moment of inner silence. He exhaled slowly to the count of six, releasing the tension that had gathered in his shoulders.

Once again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Again. The rhythm established itself, as constant as the waves of the sea.

With each cycle, his mind became clearer, emptier, until not a single unnecessary thought remained. There was no anxiety, no expectation, no haste. Only his breathing and the stillness.

Only then did he begin the visualization.

From the small moon within his heart, a thin silver thread began to emerge. It was incredibly delicate, finer than a strand of hair, more fragile than a spider’s web, almost transparent like a strand of moonlight.

The thread slowly crossed the inside of his chest, passed through his abdomen, reached his left hip, and continued downward.

Thigh. Knee. Calf. Ankle. Heel. Finally, it reached the tips of the toes on his left foot, completing the path.

Lukas did not rush. He knew that image had to be perfect, every detail exact, every curve precise. The Manual of Lunar Connection made that abundantly clear, through page after page of warnings.

An imperfect visualization would produce an imperfect channel. And a flawed channel would prevent mana from circulating properly for the rest of his life, forcing the warrior to completely dismantle it before attempting again.

That was why every detail mattered. The width of the path. The smoothness of the curves. The depth of the channel. The connection to the Source. Everything had to be visualized with a precision that went beyond words.

He mentally retraced the path three times, each repetition clearer than the last. On the fourth, the thread remained firm within his mind, as steady as a taut rope. By the fifth, it felt as though a real, tangible pathway truly existed, one he could traverse with his consciousness.

Only then did he begin.

He inhaled. The small moon within his chest responded immediately, pulsing with a brighter light. Unlike the first few days, it no longer needed to be nourished before reacting. His intention alone was enough, and tiny particles of mana began to move within it, like stars awakening in a night sky.

Slowly. Calmly and coldly. The mana that had accumulated over the previous nights had finally found its purpose.

Lukas guided the first particle out of the Source, feeling it glide along the imaginary thread like a drop of water upon a blade. The particle traveled only a few centimeters, hesitated, and then stopped.

It was like trying to push water through a completely dry pipe, where the resistance was immense and every bit of progress was a struggle.

Without rushing, he breathed again. Another particle left the Source, following the first. Then another. Another. Little by little, that tiny stream began to advance, each particle clearing the way for the next.

His chest. His abdomen. His hip.

There, it encountered the first true barrier. The mana seemed to want to return to his heart, as though his hip were an invisible wall blocking its passage. For several seconds, the flow circled in place, unable to continue, like water searching for a crack in solid stone.

Lukas did not force it. He simply maintained the Lunar Breathing, its rhythm steady and unwavering. Inhale, guide, and exhale.

More mana arrived, particle after particle, gathering behind the barrier. The particles began pressing against one another, like tiny droplets forming a stream that steadily grew stronger. The pressure increased slowly, constantly, relentlessly.

Until, at last... the barrier gave way.

The energy passed through his hip and reached his thigh, like a river breaking through a dam.

Lukas noticed the change immediately. An intense chill spread through his left leg, beginning at his hip and flowing downward like a wave of icy water. It was not unpleasant, much less painful. It was simply... strange. Like plunging his entire leg into mountain water, the cold shock coursing through every fiber.

The sensation slowly traveled through his muscles, his fibers, his tendons. Even his bones seemed to absorb that icy presence, as though the very structure of his leg were being bathed in mana.

But the mana was still far from its final destination. It advanced only a few more centimeters before losing its strength once again, stopping halfway down his thigh as though it had encountered another invisible wall.

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