Dimension Walker: The Veiled Paragon

Norian and Garuda were walking through the forest. Norian occasionally picked berries from nearby bushes, popping them into his mouth. Sometimes, he would jump over fallen logs or hop onto stones just for the fun of it.

Garuda glanced sideways.

"Why did you say you had a good feeling about this path? Is it something inherent in your human race?"

Norian was about to bite into a large fruit when he paused, frowned slightly, and looked at Garuda.

"What are you talking about?"

Then he took a big bite. He chewed slowly, then spoke through it.

"You see, when I was going around the forest and came back, that path was on my right side. And to me… when you're entering somewhere, and something's on your right, it just feels… right.

Not when you're exiting—because when you leave home, you don't know if you'll come back. But when you're entering your home, your safe place, and something's on your right, it just... it means something."

He paused, eyes squinting slightly.

"You use your right hand, right? Hmm, wait… I don't think I'm explaining this properly. Let me think for a second."

Garuda looked at him like he was watching someone unravel a riddle upside down.

"Yeah… right. I think you've finally lost it. Talking nonsense like that."

Norian stopped what he was doing and held up a hand.

"No, no—let me explain properly. Let me think first."

He stood still for a moment, arms crossed, rubbing his chin with exaggerated seriousness. Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up.

"Aha! Got it."

He turned to Garuda with a proud smile.

"So, listen. This is my ideology, understand? Not anyone else's. Just mine. To me, when you enter a room, if you start with your right hand—like opening the door with your right hand—and step in with your right foot, it brings good fortune.

So based on that, since I'm someone who values entering more than exiting, I naturally pick the path that's on the right when entering."

He looked at Garuda, still smiling.

"Do you get it?"

Garuda, who looked like he was trying to solve a complicated mathematical formula, than laughed out loud for few moments and than with dead serious face said,

"Absolutely not."

Norian heard that and let out a short laugh.

"Well, right. I don't expect you to understand it anyway. I don't expect anyone to. It's not about how the world works or some universal law. It's just… a little tradition of mine. Something I believe in. Something that brings me fortune. Which I seem to take away from the people I interact with."

*****

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✶ Dimension Walker ✶

✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

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*****

They continued through the glowing forest trail. The bioluminescent trees flickered softly around them like gentle lanterns, and the distant hum of magical insects filled the silence.

Garuda walked ahead for a while, then asked without looking back,

"What do you do in your world, during your free time?"

Norian tilted his head.

"Free time?"

Garuda glanced over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Us Lizardmen… we fight each other to improve our skills. The villagers usually watch. Sometimes the girls dance. Or we do other fun stuff in the water. It's always something. What about you humans?"

Norian's expression brightened instantly. He clapped once, laughed, then pointed at Garuda with a grin.

"An excellent question, Garuda. Mm-hmm! Now we're getting somewhere. That's an interesting topic to talk about."

He held up a finger dramatically.

"Listen closely. We humans do many things. Like, many, many things. We've got a whole ocean of entertainment. There are games, movies, racing, fighting too—swordsmanship, spearmanship, swimming, even more than you can imagine. Anything that brings fun, you name it."

Garuda blinked.

"That many?"

"Yeah!"

Norian said, still smiling.

"And if you're asking what I do… well, I mainly watch anime, and read manga and novels."

Garuda's brow furrowed.

"What are those?"

Norian laughed under his breath.

"It's stuff I read or watch to pass time. Keeps my mind sane after all the chaos of the day, you know? Wizard stuff, madness, running around, almost dying—those kinds of things. It's like a mental healing ritual."

Garuda nodded, looking at him with a curious glint in his eye. Like someone who had just stumbled upon a secret treasure.

"So tell me more,"

He said.

"About this anime, manga, and novel stuff."

Norian's eyes lit up.

"Of course. So listen up."

He stretched his arms like a storyteller about to begin a tale.

"Anime is like moving art. It's a kind of animated show—stories with powerful characters, intense battles, emotions, sometimes heartbreak, sometimes laughter. You name it. Some are serious, some are hilarious, and some are just weird in the best way."

Garuda tilted his head slightly, as if trying to picture it.

"And manga,"

Norian continued,

"is like the scroll version. Black and white drawings, panels, dialogue. It's a visual story—easy to carry, and honestly, sometimes better than the animated ones."

"And novels?"

"Ah,"

Norian nodded solemnly.

"The old faithfuls. Pure words. The kind of thing that pulls you into a whole new world just from your imagination. Adventures, love, horror, cultivation, time travel—you can live a thousand lives without ever leaving your room."

Garuda blinked again. His expression was a mix of awe and confusion.

"That… sounds dangerous."

Norian laughed.

"It is. But in a good way."

***

The glowing forest lights shimmered like low-hung stars, dancing above the bushes and branches as Norian and Garuda made their way through the woods. The air was warm, quiet, filled only with the occasional soft hum of magical insects.

Norian walked ahead with a bit of rhythm in his step, clearly enjoying himself.

"You see,"

He said,

"in anime—especially harem ones—the heroines always have personality quirks. Like, types. Once you start watching, you'll see them everywhere."

Garuda walked silently beside him, listening.

"There's the shy one,"

Norian began, holding up a finger.

"She avoids eye contact, talks in whispers, always fidgeting. Then there's the energetic type. Clingy, bubbly, hugs the MC without warning every five minutes."

He held up another finger.

"Then you've got the bookworm—quiet, intelligent, emotionally distant. The food-lover who always eats too much.

The childhood friend who's always been there but never got noticed. The cold genius. The airheaded klutz. The tsundrre .The older sister type. The stoic warrior maiden."

Garuda gave a small grunt.

"That's... a lot."

Norian grinned. "Oh, I haven't even scratched the surface. There are dozens of these archetypes. People argue over which one is best like it's a sacred tradition."

Garuda looked at him with a raised brow.

"You said... tsundere earlier. What is that?"

Norian paused, then slowly looked at Garuda as if preparing him for a dangerous truth.

"Ah yes… the infamous tsundere,"

He muttered with dramatic weight.

He took a deep breath, then spoke with a half-smile that looked more tired than amused.

"Tsunderes are... complicated. Or at least, they pretend to be. They're the ones who act all cold, annoyed, angry at the MC—but only because they're too proud or emotionally stunted to admit their feelings."

Garuda's brow furrowed.

"They... hide it?"

Norian nodded.

"Yeah. They Yell at him, insult him, sometimes hit him on the head—and then blush and look away. Say stuff like, 'It's not like I like you or anything, stupid!' and then run off. Meanwhile, they're head over heels in love."

He looked down, chewing the inside of his cheek for a second.

"To me?"

He added, voice flattening a little,

"they're just frustrating. I mean—just say what you feel. They act like their emotions are a game of charades and expect the guy to guess everything."

Garuda tilted his head.

"You don't like them?"

"No, I don't,"

Norian said bluntly.

"At least not in Anime. They're the kind of character I want to punch before they even open their mouth. But…"

He looked ahead.

"In the novels I read—erotica, mainly—they're different. They still start out proud, hostile, all that. But the MC doesn't back off. He pushes them to stop pretending. And when they break—when they finally stop hiding and admit what they really feel—it's... satisfying. Powerful."

Garuda blinked slowly, watching Norian's face.

Norian didn't laugh this time. His tone stayed steady, honest.

"I know people who worship tsunderes. I mean it. Worship. Whole forums dedicated to debating which one's the best. They treat them like untouchable queens."

He gave a short scoff, shaking his head.

"Not me. I don't like the chase. I like when the mask breaks. When the emotion's raw. Unfiltered. No more games."

Garuda was quiet.

After a moment, he asked,

"So… which type do you prefer then?"

Norian's expression softened, like a light had been lit behind his eyes.

"I like the stories where the MC doesn't run. Where he takes the lead, accepts the girls' feelings instead of ignoring them. He doesn't play dumb. He wants them."

He grinned now—almost sheepishly, but not ashamed.

"My favorite stories are where he marries all of them. No painful choices. No heartbreak. Just a big, chaotic, beautiful life with many women who all love him, and he loves them back."

He turned toward Garuda, shoulders relaxing.

"If I ever get strong enough, really strong... I'll make a life like that. With my own harem. A real one. All beautiful. All loyal. All mine."

Garuda blinked, but said nothing.

And as they kept walking, Norian noticed something.

Garuda wasn't just listening.

He was focused. Attentive. His silence wasn't dismissal—it was respect. Curiosity. Maybe even admiration.

And Norian?

He wasn't used to that.

Back on Veltharion, no one listened when he talked about things like this. His online friends humored him at best. No one ever leaned in when he spoke, or asked him to explain more.

But now—here in this glowing forest, with a lizardman walking beside him like a curious disciple.

A firefly landed on Norian's shoulder. He barely noticed it. His voice had weight now — and someone cared enough to carry it.

-To Be Continued