I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

The world disappeared. There were no more trees, nor the cold night wind, nor the rhythmic chirping of the crickets, nor Clavor’s presence watching from a few meters away.

All of Lukas’s consciousness sank inward, into a silent universe where only mana existed.

At the center of that universe, the Lunar Source pulsed continuously, a small silver moon radiating light and warmth. The small full moon, formed after five long nights of cultivation, emitted a gentle, steady, serene silver glow.

With every pulse, it released a delicate current of mana that naturally flowed through his torso before returning to the core, like the endless movement of the tides.

The four already stabilized channels were also present, shining like thin rivers of silver. Two descended toward his legs, and two rose toward his arms. All of them were perfectly connected to his heart, forming a network that covered most of his body.

Only one remained. The last one. His head.

Lukas breathed slowly, calming his mind even further. There was no room for haste, no place for rushing. Clavor had explained countless times why this stage was considered the most dangerous part of a warrior’s initial formation.

While the arms and legs possessed muscles capable of absorbing small mistakes in mana guidance, the brain was completely different. It housed the senses, consciousness, memory, and thought.

Any instability could cause anything from severe headaches to permanent damage to perception.

That was precisely why the Lunar Connection Method devoted nearly a third of the entire book solely to connecting with the head.

Page after page of warnings, diagrams, and detailed instructions on how to guide mana through the body’s most delicate region.

Lukas remembered one of the sentences written in bold perfectly, its words engraved into his memory like fire.

”The moon illuminates without ever burning. Let mana follow the same path.”

It was a simple reminder, yet one filled with profound meaning. It was not about pushing mana, not about forcing it through the body. It was about guiding it, as one would guide water through a delicate system of canals, each drop finding its natural place.

He calmed his breathing even more, feeling its rhythm become deep and steady. He inhaled deeply, sensing the ambient mana entering his body through his skin. He exhaled slowly, releasing all tension.

Then he began to visualize.

From the small moon within his chest emerged an extremely thin line, more delicate than any of the previous ones. Like a strand of silk, like a ray of light, like a whisper. It slowly rose through the center of his chest, passed between his lungs, and traveled through his throat.

Until it reached the base of his neck.

There, Lukas slowed his pace even further, his concentration intensifying. From that point onward began the critical region, the unknown territory that demanded absolute attention.

As the manual taught, a single line would not be enough to nourish the entire head. The brain needed to receive mana in a balanced, uniform manner, reaching every region.

Therefore, the main channel had to split, branching out like the limbs of a tree growing from the same trunk.

Lukas visualized the main line beginning to separate, slowly, without the slightest irregularity. First, a branch extended toward the front of his head, reaching his eyes and forehead. Then another stretched backward, reaching the nape of his neck and the base of his skull.

Two more spread toward the sides, nourishing his temples and ears. Finally, a fifth gently rose to the top of his skull, connecting to the center of his consciousness.

Five lines, five different paths, each responsible for nourishing a specific region of the brain and the senses.

Lukas spent long minutes simply refining that image in his mind, carefully polishing every detail. He erased small imperfections, redrew curves, and corrected angles. Until every path looked natural, as though it had always existed.

Only then did he begin the Lunar Breathing. Inhale. Feel. Guide. Exhale.

The first particles left the Source, slowly moving upward. They rose through his chest, crossing his torso with a smoothness that surprised Lukas.

The path to his neck posed no difficulty at all; it was already familiar, traveled countless times during his visualization.

But the moment the mana reached the point where the five channels diverged, everything changed.

The particles seemed to hesitate, like travelers arriving at a crossroads without knowing which path to take. Some tried to follow the same route, gathering together in a single direction.

Others slowed down, uncertain. Only a few accepted splitting evenly, each following its own destination.

Lukas remained completely calm, his breathing steady. He did not try to correct everything at once, nor did he force the particles to divide.

Instead, he guided only a small amount of mana at a time, observing how it behaved.

He waited. Then he sent another. Then another.

Like a patient craftsman shaping an incredibly delicate masterpiece, he guided the mana through the channels, particle by particle, each one finding its proper place.

Time gradually lost all meaning, the minutes slipping away in silence. Every breath represented an almost imperceptible advance, a small victory in the battle against resistance.

Little by little, the five paths began to accept the passage of mana.

There was still resistance, especially near the base of his skull, a region that had never been prepared to receive that energy, like untouched land being cultivated for the first time.

Lukas continued, breath after breath. Sweat began to appear on his forehead, tiny droplets slowly running down. Despite the cold night air, his body was working intensely. His face remained completely still, his concentration absolute.

...

Outside, Clavor watched attentively, his eyes fixed on his son. His expression remained serious, his analytical gaze capturing every detail of Lukas’s posture.

Throughout his life, he had witnessed many young people fail at that exact moment, succumbing to pressure or impatience.

Some stopped far too early, convinced they would never succeed. Others persisted beyond their limits, forcing mana through until the channel ruptured. The most reckless tried to accelerate the flow, ignoring the manual’s warnings.

And that was precisely when accidents happened, consequences that could last an entire lifetime.

But Lukas... no. The boy maintained exactly the pace taught by the manual, without haste, without fear, without greed. His breathing was steady, his posture flawless, and his concentration unwavering.