Dimension Walker: The Veiled Paragon

After his speech, the questions had come flooding in.

Dozens of them. One after another.

What do your People eat? How do you fly in the Sky? What do your Cities look like? Can your World talk?

Norian did his best to answer them all, and although he stumbled on a few, the sincerity in his Voice always landed true. The Lizardfolk listened, eyes wide, tongues flicking in thought. Curiosity bloomed.

Slowly—but surely—the tension broke.

And the moment was sealed by the sudden flicker of a glowing System Notification before Norian's eyes:

[Progress: 385/1000]

His Chest rose with quiet triumph.

'Wow! That's a lot. I came so Far. I feel like crying tears of happiness for my own success.'

After that, the Village welcomed him like one of their own. Laughter followed wherever he went. He ate beside them, helped stir their Stone Pots, even let a few Children paint strange patterns on his Arms using wet Leaves and crushed Roots.

He played simple Games with them, laughed Hahaha with them, listened to them talk about their own strange dreams and even stranger pets.

By noon, he found himself back inside the Village Chief's Hut. The cool shadows welcomed him as he sat once more on the smooth Stone seat across the Fire Pit.

The Warrior Chief leaned forward, massive claws resting on his knees.

"So, Human … where do you want to go next?"

Norian paused for only a moment.

"I'm thinking… another Village. One with a similar population. Something I can handle."

The Warrior Chief narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, then gave a short nod.

"Garuda. Take him to the Village… far east."

Garuda blinked.

"You mean that Village?"

The Warrior Chief nodded again, calm but firm.

"I think he's strong enough for that."

Garuda's eyes widened slightly. His tail stopped wagging. But after a moment's silence, he nodded slowly.

"…Understood."

They spoke for a few more minutes—discussing general direction, travel time, what to avoid, and where the old Stone Markers were still safe to follow.

Then Norian and Garuda stood.

As they stepped out of the Hut, they were surprised to see nearly the entire Village already waiting near the Gate.

Mothers. Elders. Warriors. Children.

The Shaman Chief stepped forward with a Staff of Bone and Wood, tapping it once on the ground.

"You were with us for only a few hours… but it felt longer. You carry something with you. Even if we don't understand it… we felt it."

Norian's throat tightened. Something fluttered in his Chest—something warm and painful at the same time.

Why… does this feel like leaving home?

The Warrior Chief grunted.

"Go. But don't die. I still want to hear how your World handles battle tactics."

Hahaha

Garuda rolled his eyes.

"He says that like he didn't lose our spar last year."

The crowd parted like a wave, allowing them through. As Norian passed, Children waved their tiny hands. Some Elders nodded. A few even murmured soft blessings in their old tongue.

And Norian…

He smiled. Wide. Genuine. A little shaky.

But real.

He waved to them all as they neared the Gate.

"THANK YOU! FOR EVERYTHING!"

The two Chiefs stood just before the threshold of the Village.

"EAST,"

The Warrior Chief said, pointing toward the right-hand side of where Norian had been facing the Gate.

Garuda stepped beside him, checking his Spear's bindings, then glanced at Norian.

"Ready to meet the crazier ones?"

Norian laughed and nodded.

"Let's see if the Far East lives up to the hype."

And with that, they crossed the Gate.

The Village behind them faded into the thick, glowing Green of the Jungle.

Their next destination awaited—deeper into the Far East, where new people, new challenges, and perhaps even new believers were waiting.

*****

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✶ Dimension Walker ✶

✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

After Norian and Garuda left the Lizardmen Village, they made their way through the forest. The day was different from the night. There was no magical glow, no soft murmurs of luminescent creatures.

Instead, it was the deep growl of distant predators, the weight of invisible eyes pressing from the shadows. The leaves no longer glowed, but rustled in dry warning.

They were taking their time. There was no rush. Norian glanced ahead as they walked and asked,

"Hey, Garuda... why did the Chief say it like that? And why did you react like that?"

Garuda kept looking ahead, his voice low.

"Because the village we're headed to has a population of about a thousand. Maybe more."

Norian blinked, surprised.

"A thousand? Damn... I might actually finish my mission sooner than expected."

But even as he smiled, the inside of his chest felt... brittle. Not anxiety. Not fear. Something more hollow. Like he was walking toward a victory that didn't taste like triumph.

Garuda continued.

"It's because they're many... that they're different. They're full-blown warriors. They don't listen to anything but strength. If you're not strong, they won't even hear you."

Norian looked ahead, brows narrowing.

"And how do you think I'll fare?"

Garuda shook his head.

"I don't know."

That uncertainty twisted in Norian's gut.

Then Garuda broke the silence with a grin.

"Hey, Human. Tell me more about the Mangas. I'm getting bored."

Norian raised a brow.

"Genre?"

"Harem,"

Garuda replied.

Norian smirked.

"Ohh? Liking Harem now, are we?"

"Heh,"

Garuda scoffed.

"It doesn't sound so bad."

"Well then,"

Norian said, stretching his arms.

"Let me tell you about the one where the Demon King accidentally proposes to all his generals at once..."

But he never got to finish.

Something snapped. The air shifted.

A monstrous blur lunged out of the underbrush, fast and heavy.

It had the head of a lion, maned and thick-jawed, eyes burning gold, and the body of a panther, fluid and muscled like shadow given flesh. It stood three times Norian's height.

The creature roared, and the forest trembled.

Neither Norian nor Garuda flinched. They moved with the fluid reflex of experienced survivors. Norian's heart didn't sink—it lifted. Like something ancient and forgotten inside him stirred awake. Something wild.

Norian ripped his spear free from his back, and his feet moved on their own. He ran straight toward the beast.

The Lion-Panther swiped its massive paw down with a shriek of torn air. Norian ducked, rolled. The paw crashed where he'd been, sending dirt and rocks flying like shrapnel.

Then Norian kicked off the ground.

BOOM!

The wet dirt exploded in the area, and he launched into the air, a streak of force. The sudden vertical leap made his vision tilt.

For a moment he was flying.

His body moved on instinct. The spear tilted down. His grip tightened.

He crashed down upon the beast's neck, embedding the spear deep. A sickening crunch. The creature howled and thrashed. It didn't fall. It didn't die. It fought. Hard.

The spear didn't go clean through. It lodged deep, but the beast was too powerful. Its legs buckled. Its head shook violently. Norian held on, teeth gritted, fingers burning.

The world became a blur.

He was riding it.

A beast so huge, its back shifted like the deck of a storm-tossed ship. Norian grunted, his legs struggling for balance.

He should have been scared. But he wasn't.

He felt alive.

The adrenaline crawled through every vein like molten fire. His body was raw sensation—wind on his face, heat from the beast, the scent of blood and fur. But inside, something deeper boiled.

This wasn't fun.

It was beautiful. Terrifying. Real.

Something inside him screamed, This is what living is.

The beast rammed against a tree. Norian nearly flew off. He clung tighter.

The spear snapped in its neck, broken.

"GARUDA!"

Norian shouted.

"SPEAR!"

Without hesitation, Garuda tossed his own. Norian caught it in mid-spin.

He steadied. Moved.

And drove it into the creature's skull.

The Lion-Panther let out a horrifying, guttural screech—a sound that didn't seem to end. Its legs kicked. It reared. It thrashed like a demon trying to shake off Death.

Norian stayed on. Breath shallow. Muscles locked.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

The beast staggered. Blood pooled under it. It kept trying to move. To fight. But its limbs gave out.

A final breath rattled from its lungs.

And then—it collapsed.

Dead.

Norian sat on top of the cooling corpse, staring blankly at the blood-stained trees. His fingers shook slightly.

He climbed down slowly. Not from fatigue. But from the weight of what he'd just felt.

He walked to the front of the beast and stared into its eye—glass now, empty.

Something inside him shifted.

He pulled out the second spear.

Blood splashed on his chest.

"Ugh, shit,"

He muttered.

"I was Careless."

He tried to dodge, but it was already too late. Green blood stained his shirt, his hair, his arms. The stench crawled into his nose.

Still, the thrill hadn't faded.

He returned to Garuda, who hadn't moved.

"Here,"

Norian said, handing back the blood-slicked spear.

Garuda took it with wide eyes. Mouth slightly open.

"What's wrong?"

Norian asked, head tilted.

"Do you know what you just did?,"

Garuda asked quietly.

Norian blinked.

"Wait… what do you mean? Don't tell me that was sacred or something."

Garuda shook his head.

"No. But that was the Panther King."

Norian froze.

"The Panther King?"

"We call it Ma'rek Varn."

Garuda swallowed.

"It's slaughtered over twenty warriors in the last two years. No one could stop it. No one could even land a spear on it."

Norian's breath slowed. Then he exhaled.

"Well… guess I got lucky."

He looked down at the body. Something tightened in his chest.

Not guilt.

But clarity.

This world was different. It didn't reward hesitation. It didn't hold your hand. You kill, or you die. And if you don't feel anything when the killing stops… you become less you.

He sighed, wiping the green blood from his hands.

"We can't drag this thing,"

Norian said.

"The Village is too far behind and eat Village is who knows how much further. So I think it is best to leave it here."

Garuda nodded silently.

They walked past the corpse.

And Norian, settling his emotions slowly back into place, began again.

"Now then. As I was saying... Master Valen, the Demon King, once proposed to twelve of his generals. Accidentally. During the same duel."

Garuda's eyes lit up.

"Heh. Sounds like a mess."

Norian smirked, gaze ahead.

"Oh, you've no idea."

-To Be Continued