I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Some months had passed since the fall of the Rat King.

Time, as always, had done its silent work of healing wounds and restoring what had been damaged.

The forest, which had once been the stage of such a violent battle that it seemed to have been mortally wounded, now breathed once again with renewed vitality.

Where there had once been the smell of blood, corrupted mana, and burnt wood, wildflowers now bloomed across the clearings in an explosion of colors that painted the ground like a living carpet.

White, yellow, purple, and red petals swayed gently in the wind, as though nature itself were celebrating the return of life.

Ordinary animals slowly returned to the territory. Deer appeared at the edges of the forest at dawn, their eyes cautious yet curious.

Rabbits hopped through the bushes, and small squirrels darted along the tree trunks. The songs of birds once again filled the mornings, a joyful symphony that contrasted with the oppressive silence that had dominated the region during the monster’s reign of terror.

The villages that had been evacuated gradually rebuilt their homes. The sound of hammers echoed through the streets as new structures were raised upon the foundations of the old ones. Fences were rebuilt, marking property lines and protecting crops that had begun to grow once more in the fertile soil.

The fields, once abandoned and overgrown with weeds, were now green and vibrant with new harvests. Farmers worked beneath the sun, their faces marked by hardship yet illuminated by hopeful smiles.

The constant fear that had once accompanied every sunset gradually disappeared.

Children could once again play in the streets without their parents calling them inside at the first sign of darkness.

The story of the battle spread throughout the entire region like wildfire. In every tavern, every marketplace, every gathering of neighbors, people shared what they had heard about the day a Rat King had been defeated.

Everyone talked about the day Count Hark and Clavor had slain the monstrous Rat King. To many, it had already become a legend, a story that would be told to children for generations.

Some people exaggerated the events, as often happens with stories passed from mouth to mouth.

They claimed the creature had been as large as a mountain, that its tails stretched for miles, and that its eyes were like dark suns illuminating the night.

Others swore that the entire sky had been lit up by the final blow, that the golden light had been seen from hundreds of miles away, and that the thunder of the explosion had echoed for three straight days.

Lukas merely smiled whenever he heard those stories. He knew the truth. He knew the Rat King had been terrifying enough without any exaggeration.

He knew the battle had been dreadful enough to forever scar the memories of everyone who had witnessed it.

And he knew that reality had been even more terrifying than any tale people could invent.

...

At the Dmond Manor, life had also returned to normal. The days followed their peaceful rhythm, marked by the daily activities that gave structure to the lives of the family and their servants.

Judite returned to training magic every day under Master Thorne’s guidance. The routine was strict and demanding, yet the girl devoted herself to it with a determination that surprised even the old mage.

The old man was still fully recovering from the injuries he had suffered during the battle against the horde, but his firm voice and demanding gaze remained exactly the same. He watched every one of Judite’s movements with a critical eye, correcting her posture, adjusting her gestures, and demanding perfection.

”Focus.”

A small sphere of fire appeared before the girl’s hands. The flame was unstable, flickering, but it was there.

”More mana.”

Judite obeyed immediately, channeling more energy into the spell. The flame grew larger until it reached the size of an apple.

”Don’t waste energy. Control it.”

The girl took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing in concentration. The flame immediately shrank, becoming steadier, its light more uniform, and its temperature more controlled.

Thorne finally nodded, a rare gesture of approval crossing his wrinkled face.

”Much better.”

Judite smiled proudly, her eyes shining with the satisfaction of having done something right. Earning Thorne’s approval was no easy feat, and every small victory was celebrated as a great achievement.

Her progress over the past few months was visible to everyone. Her spells had become faster, more stable, and consumed less and less mana.

The young mage who had begun her training with difficulty was gradually transforming into a true mage, capable of controlling fire with a precision that many adults would take years to achieve.

...

Meanwhile...

Lukas spent nearly every day in the forest. The greenery had become his second home, the place where he felt the freest, the most alive, the most like himself.

His training had changed completely since awakening his Eagle Vision. The world around him had transformed into a place that was sharper, more detailed, filled with information that had once escaped his notice.

He could now see details hundreds of meters away. Every branch, every leaf, every insect hidden among the trees was visible to him with a clarity that bordered on the supernatural.

His accuracy had improved tremendously. Where he had once needed several seconds to aim and fire a web, the movement was now almost instantaneous.

His eyes calculated the distance, the trajectory, and the perfect angle in a fraction of a second.

”Weaving.”

A thin web shot from his hand, glimmering faintly beneath the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. The silk thread flew dozens of meters with surgical precision, attaching itself to exactly the branch Lukas had chosen.

The next instant, his body was pulled forward with a force that had become familiar. The wind struck his face as he soared through the forest, practically flying among the treetops, his body slicing through the air like an arrow.

Another web. Another branch. Another burst of momentum. The sequence of movements was fluid and natural, as though he were dancing between the trees rather than simply traveling from one point to another.

His body traced graceful arcs between the trunks, naturally avoiding every obstacle without any conscious effort. His eyes predicted every branch, every leaf, every possible danger before he even reached it.

The more he trained, the less it felt like the ability of a spider and the more it became an extension of his own body.

Weaving was no longer merely a technique he used, it had become part of who he was, as natural as breathing.

Lukas smiled. He loved that feeling of freedom, of hanging in the air, of moving through the forest with a speed and grace that few could ever hope to match.