FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 163: Chapter 163: A Nexus Of Dimensions

She waved her hand again, dismissing the chaotic storm of the Elemental Realm. The fire, water, and lightning. She seemed to be getting bored with the lecture, her gestures becoming faster, less detailed.

“Then,” she said, summoning a new illusion that bathed the dark temple in a warm, honey-colored light, “you have the Verdant Realm of the Elves.”

Sol looked around. The void had vanished, replaced by an endless expanse of forests and meadows bathed in eternal golden-hour sunlight. It was a world that looked like it had been painted with liquid gold and chlorophyll.

“The sun never sets here,” Isylia explained, shielding her eyes mockingly. “It casts an eternal glow over trees that are older than your continents. And the inhabitants… well, they are annoying perfectionists.”

She pointed to a figure walking through the phantom grass.

“Primordial Elves. The so-called Apex Humanoids, which they like to call themselves. They stand tall, with skin that shimmers in golden or silver tones, and eyes that glow with the light of the first sun. They are incredibly strong, faster than the wind, and possess ’Life-Sense’… the ability to see the flow of vitality in everything.”

She zoomed in on the Elf’s eyes. They were kaleidoscope patterns of green and gold.

“And rarely, like very rarely, they can have eyes that can see into the future,” she added. “Which makes them terrible friends.”

“Anyways, as dramatic as they are, they don’t build houses and sing to the trees to make them grow into palaces,” Isylia continued, gesturing to a city in the distance.

It was breathtaking. Massive, living trees had been coaxed into the shapes of spires, bridges, and halls. Their cities were suspended thousands of feet in the air, nestled in branches wider than a city street.

” And occasionally, they trade in different concentrated nectars that seem to have some very interesting special abilities, but most important of all is the ’Breath of Life.’ A potion said to grant eternal youth and life, though it is debatable if it really does that because it is super rare.

As for their life, it is a meritocracy based on ’Harmony.’ Those who can manipulate the most complex life-forms are the nobility. But generally,” she looked at Sol with a side-eye, “females hold most of the power there. The Primordial Elven Queen is said to be the most beautiful creature in existence… next to me, of course.”

Sol nodded, his eyes lit with anticipation, I mean which otaku hasn’t dreamt of having an elf beauty, at least he did, so he noted it in his special mental notebook as a ’must visit’ place.”

…

Isylia waved her hand. The forest dissolved into a sea of clouds.

“Then there is the Draconic Realm,” she said.

Floating islands drifted aimlessly in a pure azure sky. Even the air seemed to ripple with visible power currents.

“A realm where the air is so rich in mana that simply breathing it makes you feel like you can fly. And the locals…”

A massive shadow fell over the illusion. A dragon descended…. not a beast, I mean it was a massive terrifying beast but this one was strangely a regal, terrifyingly intelligent creature with scales like literal gems.

“The Primordial Dragons,” Isylia said. “They aren’t just ’fire-breathing lizards’ like the ones in your mud-world stories. They are also polymaths and very accomplished scholars. And can take humanoid form too, so better be careful, who knows the weak scholar you are bullying is a terrifying dragon, which can obliterate your whole settlement with a causal stomp.”

Sol blinked, jaw slack. “Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me the nerd in the corner might actually be a mighty death‑lizard in disguise? That’s… that’s cheating! How am I supposed to win an argument if the guy can just turn into Godzilla and stomp me flat?”

The illusion shifted. The massive dragon shrank, folding in on itself until it became a tall, imposing man with horns and vertical pupils, sitting at a table made of some cloud-stuff.

Sol pointed at the figure, incredulous. “See? That’s exactly what I mean! How the hell am I supposed to know who’s secretly a dragon? Do they wear name tags? ’Hello, my name is Murder‑Lizard.’”

“In their cities,” Isylia continued, ignoring him, “built into the sides of Wind-Canyons, you might see a forty-foot dragon drinking spirit drinks and debating philosophy with a Primordial Elf,” Isylia said, sounding amused. “They value ’hoards,’ but not just of gold. They hoard history. A Dragon’s hoard is usually a library of every event that has ever happened in the world. They are the librarians of the apocalypse.”

Sol groaned, rubbing his temples. “Of course they are. Because why not? Giant death‑lizards who breathe fire, smash cities, and also run the world’s biggest library. Great.”

…

Isylia swiped left, and the scene turned chaotic and blurry.

“As for the Dream Realm…” she whispered, her voice echoing. “Don’t go there. You’ll go mad. Every thought can become reality there… both positive and negative. Unless you want your childhood nightmares to eat you while you’re awake, avoid it.”

She sped up, flashing images rapidly.

“The Realm of Sound… literally just noise. The Insectoid Realm

… disgusting, hives everywhere, sticky. The Totem Realm…”

She paused on an image of an endless, golden savanna that stretched to infinity. The grass was taller than mountains. The trees were world-sized.

“This is where your primitive little shamans pull their power from. This is where the ’Gods’ of the animals live. Every species in the main world has a ’Platonic Ideal’ here… a perfect, immortal version of itself. The Great Bear. The First Wolf. The Eternal Eagle. Etc. all live there, if you can get their blessing, you are set for life.”

“The Realm of Blood and Vitality…”

She paused again. A strange look crossed her face. She glanced at Sol, her eyes narrowing as she sniffed him again, detecting the lingering scent of Evara’s essence on him.

“And the Frost Realm,” she added quickly, skipping the Blood realm. “Which is cold. Obviously.”

She leaned forward, her expression shifting from bored lecturer to something more… insinuating. A sly, knowing smile curled her lips.

“But there is one realm,” she purred, the illusion around them shifting into a deep, velvety violet. “A realm which I suspect you would absolutely love, given your… degenerate proclivities.”

The air in the temple suddenly smelled sweet. Sickeningly sweet. It smelled of musk, iron, and fermented fruit.

“The Pleasure Realm,” Isylia whispered.

The void filled with images of sprawling palaces made of flesh and silk. The sky was a bruised purple, and the rivers ran thick and red—wine or blood, it was hard to tell. The architecture was organic, curving and soft, pulsating gently.

“It is a realm fueled by emotion, lust, and blood,” Isylia explained, her voice taking on a warning edge that didn’t quite mask the allure. “It is beautiful, but… according to most it is a parasitic one. Heck! Even the air contains aphrodisiacs that can melt the mind of a saint.”

Sol leaned forward, his interest piqued despite the warning.

“There live extremely gorgeous Beings,” Isylia continued, gesturing to silhouettes dancing in the purple fog. “Succubi, Incubi, Sirens, Flesh-Crafters. Beings who feed on vitality through intimacy. They don’t eat meat; they eat desire

. They drain the soul through the touch of skin.”

Sol’s heart hammered against his ribs.

Vitality through intimacy.

It sounded exactly like what he was doing. It sounded like the “Path of the Body” he had discovered.

“Wait,” Sol interrupted, his voice tight. “Is it possible for a human… to channel that power? To feed like them?”

Isylia looked at him, her solar eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “Anything is possible if you are broken enough.”

She let the image of the Pleasure Realm linger for a moment… literal fantasy orgies, writhing bodies, endless feasts, eyes that promised the peak of ecstasy and of course, sweet death… before slashing her hand through the air, dispelling it violently.

“And then,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. “The Shadow Realm.”

The void turned pitch black. Not the absence of light, but a living, hungry darkness.

“A world of permanent night,” Isylia recited. “Lit only by a massive, shattered moon that bleeds silver dust into the sky.”

Sol watched as shadowy figures moved through the gloom—tall, elegant, and terrifying. They moved without sound, blending into the darkness as if they were made of it.

“Home to the Primordial Shadow-Elves and the Vampiric Progenitors,” Isylia said. “Shadow-Walkers. Night-Stalkers. Moon-Sprites. It is a realm of stealth, of assassination, of secrets. The gravity there is lighter, the sound is muffled. It is where things go to hide… and where things go to hunt.”

She was about to continue, to explain other realms, but she suddenly stopped.

She slumped back onto the dais, letting out a massive, unladylike groan.

“Argh.”

She rubbed her temples, looking genuinely exhausted. Maintaining the illusions and the lecture without her full divine battery seemed to have drained her tiny avatar.

“And blah, blah, blah,” she waved her hands, the illusions dissipating into mist. “There are Hells, Heavens, Abysses, and Purgatories. The Abyss is messy, the Heavens are bureaucratic, and there are countless other dimensions. Anyway, I’m tired now.”

She looked at him with half-closed eyes.

“It’s enough for a human mortal like you,” she grumbled. “It’s not good to know too much. You already know more than any other human on your dirtball planet. Knowledge is heavy. If you carry too much, you’ll sink, and become crazy.”

Titans. Elementals. Pleasure Demons. Shadow Elves.

He had thought he was just in a primitive survival world… a place of prehistoric monsters and tribes. But Isylia had just ripped the curtain back. The world outside the tribe wasn’t just a jungle; it was a crossroads. A nexus of dimensions overlapping and bleeding into one another.