I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Chapter 142: Return Home

The group emerged from the forest just as the sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that spread like the brushstrokes of a divine artist across the canvas of the horizon.

The first rays of morning light pierced through the treetops, creating dancing patterns of shadow and light along the dirt path.

The march back was slower than the journey there. Their steps were heavy, dragging, burdened by the exhaustion accumulated over hours of battle. There was no longer any haste, no longer any urgency, only the need to place one foot in front of the other and keep walking toward home.

Every soldier carried the weight of what had happened. Some were still processing the loss of comrades who had fallen, while others mentally relived the most dangerous moments of the battle.

But above all, there was a profound sense of relief, a burden lifting from the shoulders of every one of them.

The forest around them gradually began to change. The trees, once dense and dark, started to thin out, giving way to more open fields. The path widened, becoming easier to travel.

The air, which had been filled with corrupted mana during the battle, was now clean and fresh, carrying the scent of damp earth and green plants.

The horses, which had been left some distance away from the battlefield, were recovered along the way. Some were frightened, their eyes wide and their bodies trembling, but they calmed down as soon as they felt the familiar presence of their riders.

The animals that had fled during the Rat King’s roar were found peacefully grazing in a nearby clearing.

The journey continued in silence. No one spoke much, as though words were unnecessary, as though everyone was internally processing what they had experienced. The sound of horses’ hooves striking the packed earth formed a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm that accompanied the march.

The rustling of leaves and the distant songs of birds were the only sounds filling the path, a gentle symphony that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the battle.

Lukas still held the little gray rat in his hands. The animal had stopped struggling, but it continued observing everything around it with watchful eyes. Its body remained tense, ready to react to any suspicious movement, but for now it stayed perfectly still, conserving its strength.

The thin golden slit on its forehead glowed faintly beneath the evening light. The glow was soft, almost imperceptible, but Lukas noticed it every time he looked at the animal. There was something about that mark that intrigued him, something he couldn’t explain.

With every step, he felt the weight of the tiny body in his hands, the warmth of its breathing, the rapid rhythm of its heartbeat. The rat was frightened, that was obvious, but there was something else in its eyes, something Lukas couldn’t identify.

When the walls of Dmond Manor emerged from among the trees, a collective sigh seemed to escape everyone. The sight of the gray stone walls, the imposing towers, and the wrought-iron gates, all of it represented safety, comfort, and the end of the journey.

The sun was already higher in the sky, and its light bathed the manor’s stone walls in a golden glow that made them seem more welcoming than ever. The Dmond Family’s banners fluttered gently in the breeze, and the gardens surrounding the estate were blooming and meticulously cared for.

Aurora and Judite were waiting at the main gate, holding lit lanterns in their hands, even though the sunlight was already more than enough to illuminate the path. Their faces were pale with worry, and their eyes anxiously scanned every approaching figure, searching for familiar faces.

The moment they saw the group, they ran toward them. Their steps were quick, desperate, as though they feared someone might disappear before their eyes at any moment.

"Clavor!" Aurora threw herself into her husband’s arms, embracing him tightly. Her eyes were moist, and her hands trembled as they clutched the fabric of his armor.

"You’re back..."

Clavor wrapped his strong arms around her, burying his face in her hair for a moment. He could feel the trembling of her body, the anxiety that had built up with every hour she had spent waiting. He held her a little tighter, as though he needed to confirm that she was real, that she was truly there.

"We’re back. It’s all over. The Rat King is dead."

Judite threw herself around Lukas’s neck, nearly knocking the rat from his hands. Her arms wrapped around her brother’s neck with a strength that surprised even him, and her body trembled with a mixture of relief and worry.

"Lukas! Are you alright? What happened? The Rat King...?"

"It’s dead." He replied, smiling tiredly as he returned the hug with one arm, careful not to crush the little animal he was still holding.

"We did it. It was difficult, but we did it."

Aurora stepped away from Clavor just enough to look at her son. Her eyes carefully examined Lukas’s body, searching for wounds, traces of blood, anything that might indicate he had been injured.

When she saw that he was whole, with no visible injuries beyond a few soot stains and obvious exhaustion, she pulled him into a three-way embrace with Judite. The three of them held each other tightly, a moment of intimacy that transcended words.

"Thank the heavens..." She murmured, her voice muffled against Lukas’s shoulder.

"Come inside. All of you. There’s hot food waiting. Baths have been prepared. Clean clothes as well."

The manor quickly came to life. What had been a silent and empty courtyard only moments before transformed into a whirlwind of activity. The servants, who had been instructed to wait for the group’s return, emerged from the side doors and immediately began working efficiently.

Some helped the wounded riders, carefully leading them inside the manor and supporting those who could barely walk. Others prepared hot baths, filling large tubs with steaming water and adding medicinal herbs that would help ease sore muscles.

The horses were taken to the stables, where they were fed, brushed, and cared for with the attention they deserved. The exhausted and frightened animals gradually calmed as they recognized the familiar scent of hay and feed.

In the great dining hall, tables were laid out with a generosity that surprised even the most experienced soldiers. Thick servings of meat and vegetable stew steamed from large ceramic platters, their aromas spreading through the room like a warm embrace.

Fresh bread, still warm from the oven, was placed into wicker baskets covered with linen cloths. Cheeses of various kinds, some soft and creamy, others hard and aged, were arranged on wooden boards. Fresh fruit, apples, pears, and grapes, filled porcelain bowls, their vibrant colors contrasting with the dark wood of the table.

Pitchers of wine diluted with water were placed at regular intervals, ready to be served. The wine was light and easy to drink, perfect for rehydrating exhausted bodies and calming troubled minds.

Everyone took their seats. Count Hark occupied the head of the table, his presence imposing even while seated. Clavor sat beside him, his armor removed, wearing a simple tunic the servants had provided.