Dimension Walker: The Veiled Paragon

One of the Guards led Norian and Garuda through the Village gate and into the winding paths of the Lizardman settlement.

The sharp scent of damp Wood, burning Resin, and Spices filled the air. Huts made from Stone, Mud, and Bone lined the pathways, each decorated with colorful Threads and Carvings that looked like ancestral Symbols.

Their destination: the Hut of the Village Chiefs.

As they walked, Norian couldn't help but notice the growing stir among the Villagers.

Eyes followed him. Voices whispered.

Small clusters of Lizardfolk peeked from behind Huts, Doorways, and Window Flaps. Their Reactions weren't subtle. Some pointed. Some gasped.

Others clutched at small Items—probably Charms or Talismans. Norian could hear it all. Even without understanding the full language, he knew he was the subject of every murmured word.

It was like walking through a Zoo enclosure. But he was the Animal.

He took a long breath in through his nose, held it, then let it out slowly. Another breath. Another try.

He forced a smile—tight, nervous, and not even close to natural.

The smile didn't help.

He lifted a hand, trying to offer a friendly wave.

Several nearby Lizardfolk flinched. One Mother quickly turned her Child's head away, shielding their eyes with her hand.

Norian's arm froze mid-air.

"…Seriously?"

Garuda's Ears twitched. He turned and snapped,

"HEY, HEY, HEY—HUMAN! What are you doing?!"

Norian blinked, lowering his hand, embarrassed.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"I'm trying to—I don't know—bond with them!"

Norian said, voice low and defeated.

"Hmph,"

Garuda grunted.

"You better not. You already look weird enough. If you keep doing stuff like that with that smile, you'll just look even weirder."

Norian looked at him, a little wounded.

"Do I really look that weird when I smile?"

Garuda considered him for a moment.

"No, not usually. But when you're nervous? Your smile turns stiff and crooked. It's like your mouth's trying to fold in on itself and suffocate you from the inside."

"…Huuh."

Norian rubbed his face and sighed.

"You're right."

Garuda gave him a satisfied smirk.

"Heh."

They continued walking.

Villagers still stared, still whispered, but Norian stopped trying to win them over. He lowered his eyes, kept his mouth shut, and focused on keeping his breathing steady.

Still… it stung a little.

He'd faced Monsters, braved Forests, dodged death, and now here he was—brought low by a crowd of scared Villagers and a single honest critique from a Lizardman Warrior who eats Snakes for breakfast.

'Maybe I really do look like a freak to them… '

He thought.

But still… he walked.

The Chief's Hut rose ahead—larger, layered with dark blue Cloths and Bone ornaments. A faint scent of Incense lingered in the air around it.

And inside, the two Village Heads awaited.

*****

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

✶ Dimension Walker ✶

✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

Norian, Garuda, and the Guard walked for a few more seconds, winding deeper into the Heart of the Village. Finally, a large Hut came into view, set directly in the center.

Worn Stones encircled it, and tall Bone totems flanked the entrance, their surfaces carved with ancient Symbols.

From inside, loud Voices could be heard.

A Commanding Shout echoed—rough and reverberating—confirming this was the House of the Village Chiefs.

The Guard raised a hand, signaling Norian and Garuda to wait by the entrance. He slipped inside, the Cloth Flap parting with a dull rustle.

Moments passed.

Then, the Guard stepped out again and nodded firmly.

"They're ready."

Garuda entered first, tail low but confident. Norian followed just behind, breath held for a second too long.

The Hut was larger than it looked from the outside. The inside was spacious, circular, and filled with the rich scent of Burnt Herbs and Old Leather. Bones hung from the ceiling like Windchimes, and dim Light filtered in through high-set holes in the walls.

Then a Voice spoke.

"Welcome, Human from Veltharion."

Norian's eyes widened, and his head whipped around to the source.

There—seated across a large Stone Basin—were two Lizardmen.

One, a Shaman-like figure draped in Blue Feathers and beads, smiled at him with soft, age-worn Eyes. Beside him sat a much larger Lizardman, broader, with a scarred Snout and jagged Horns—his gaze was sharp, almost burning.

The Two Village Chiefs.

Norian hesitated.

"H-How do you know I'm from Veltharion?"

The Shaman Chief let out a soft heheh and leaned forward, eyes glinting with something both ancient and amused.

"We were wild once. Just like you. Three fools with a hunger for danger, wisdom… and the unknown.

And I believe Garuda's Village Chief already told you of him."

Norian nodded slowly.

"Yes... he mentioned it."

The Shaman Chief continued, gesturing gently with a clawed hand.

"Well... me, my Younger Brother, and Garuda's Chief were close Friends. In our Youth, we roamed the Continents, seeking danger, wisdom, and pleasure.

And one day, we encountered a strange Creature. Like you. Not entirely Human. But definitely… not from this World."

The Warrior Chief grunted in affirmation, his golden eyes never leaving Norian.

"At first, we thought him mad,"

The Shaman said.

"He spoke of things… impossible things. About 'greater powers' and 'worlds beyond the sky.' Things no one believed. But he did things that made use believe him."

Norian said quietly,

"he did something?"

The Shaman nodded slowly.

"Yes… he taught us. Things we never knew. Things we could not ignore."

Norian tilted his head.

"Like what?"

The Shaman raised his claw.

"He taught us how to cook with more than just Fire. He showed us how to build stronger Shelters using joined Stones.

He taught us how to use Herbs—real Herbs—not just eat them. And he showed us Devices... Tools that vanished before our Eyes."

Garuda raised an eyebrow.

"Devices?"

The Warrior Chief finally spoke, his Voice deep and gravelled.

"They glowed. They hummed. And one of them… could light a Fire with no Flame."

"He called it science,"

The Shaman muttered, then chuckled softly.

"Back then, we called it sorcery."

"But why are you telling me this?"

Norian asked.

The Shaman's eyes grew distant, as if peering through Time.

"Before he left, that Stranger said something."

He looked directly at Norian.

"He said... 'One day, another like me may come. Maybe not the same... but close. If they do—help them.'"

Silence filled the room like mist.

Norian stood frozen.

He knew—deep down—this kindness wasn't meant for him specifically. If another Human-like Entity had shown up instead, they'd have received the same grace.

But even knowing that, he couldn't help the warmth that bloomed in his Chest.

He couldn't help the ache either.

Because in all his Life, he'd never received kindness without something being expected in return.

And here it was.

Unprompted. Undeserved. Given freely.

Norian lowered his head slightly, voice quiet.

"...Thank you."

The Shaman Chief leaned forward, his voice soft yet firm.

"You wish for us to believe in you… correct?"

Norian nodded.

"Yes."

The Warrior Chief grunted, then stood and turned to the side.

"THEN LET US HELP YOU!"

He shouted the words like thunder, his deep Voice crackling like dry Firewood. He gestured to one of the nearby Lizardmen at the entrance.

"You! Gather the Villagers. Tell them it's not a request—it's a summon. We need to talk."

The Lizardman saluted, nearly dropping his Spear in the process, and ran out of the Hut with a quick thp-thp-thp of heavy footsteps.

Norian blinked.

"Wait… what's happening?"

Garuda folded his arms, smiling.

"Well, you wanted people to believe in your World, right? Can't do that talking to just two people."

The Shaman nodded with a grin.

"Consider this… an opportunity."

The Village grew loud for several minutes as the call echoed across every pathway and Hut. Within minutes, the clearing at the center of the Village was filled.

Lizardmen of all ages sat in circles—older ones crouching on Stools, younger ones on the Ground, Children clinging to their Parents. It was just like Garuda's Village, except larger. Quieter. And more cautious.

Norian stood at the center, slightly elevated on a carved Stone platform.

His hands were slightly clenched. His Heart pounded like a War Drum in his Chest. But his Mind…

It was calm.

Not cold or emotionless. Just… clear enough to speak.

He took a deep breath.

Then he began.

"It's an honor to meet you all."

His Voice carried across the crowd, uncertain at first, but not weak.

"As you can see, I'm not like you. Not even close. I'm different—and by that, I mean I'm totally different. I'm not from this Planet."

He paused.

"I'm from a different World. A Planet called Veltharion. Where Creatures like me—Humans—are the norm. Where we live in Cities, fly in metal Birds, and build Homes that touch the Clouds."

Some Lizardfolk leaned forward. Some tilted their heads. Others just stared, wide-eyed.

"I won't go into too much detail right away—because I don't know what you want to know. So I'll let you ask me. Whatever you want. But before that…"

He stepped forward, raising his Voice slightly.

"I need to tell you why I'm here. Why I appeared in your World. Why I walked into your Forest."

He took another breath.

"I'm here because I'm trying to become something called a Dimension Walker. If I pass this Trial, I become one. If I fail—I get two more chances. Fail all three… and I lose that chance forever."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. One Child whispered something, and the Parent hushed them quickly.

"My mission,"

Norian continued,

"is simple—but hard."

"I must convince 1,000 people to believe in the existence of my World. Veltharion. Once that happens, your World's Will becomes aware of mine… and Veltharion can start influencing this World in return."

He looked around, measuring their expressions.

"That's a good thing. Because if that happens—you will get benefits, too."

He raised a hand, fingers curled.

"You'll be able to travel to other Worlds. Complete Missions. Bring back Resources. Sell them in your own World's Market for Money and resources. Use that resource to grow. Train. Get stronger."

His Voice grew stronger.

"Strong enough to level Mountains. Flatten Cities. Even tear apart the Sky."

A hushed awe fell over the crowd.

"And there's more. Some of you may have Gifts—powerful forces sleeping inside you. And like most of the time the worlds unfair to you. Just this once it becames fair.

Though partially. If you Don have innate abilities, you will granted new ones by the Will of the World. Those Powers will help you complete Trials, achieve Goals, and explore places far beyond this Forest."

He paused, then added with a hint of solemnity.

"But if you fail… you lose that Gift. And your right to be a Dimension Walker will be revoked."

He looked over them all, his tone softer again.

"But if you succeed… the Gift becomes yours forever."

He lowered his hand.

"So please. If you have any questions about my World, ask me. I'll answer what I can."

There was a beat of silence.

Then a Voice called out from the crowd.

"HOW BIG IS YOUR WORLD?"

Norian smiled, thankful for a straightforward question.

"Big. Very big. Let me explain it through our Continents."

He held up a hand and began counting on his fingers.

"There are Seven Continents in Veltharion."

"First—Nethralis and Varithorne. They're connected on the Eastern side of the World. That's where I come from. Nethralis. It's clean. Structured. A lot like the Cities you've built here—but more… advanced. Think of it like living in a very clean Metal Forest."

"Then there's Solmyr Edge. It's far to the East, past the Sea of Halmar. That place is chaotic, but not isolated. It's where many of our Stories come from. Novels. Manga. Animations. That kind of culture started there. It's like a blend of wild Spirit and strict Order—like two Crocodiles trying to dance without biting each other."

A few Lizardfolk Hahaha quietly.

"To the West are Zenthara Prime and Virellis Core. We the eastern people doesn't know about them much but we do know that they are Ultra-advanced."

"In the North, there's Drevalen Reach. Ocean Traders. Sailors. Lots of Ships. They trade with everyone, but they're very… private."

"And finally—Tarn Velgroth, in the South. Agricultural. Cultural. Their Festivals are legendary."

He lowered his hand, finishing the count.

"That's my World. Veltharion."

A new Voice shouted from the side,

"WHAT ARE YOUR CULTURES LIKE?"

Norian blinked. Then chuckled softly.

"Heh… honestly? Almost the same as Garuda's Village."

Heads turned toward Garuda, who looked very smug.

"Loud. Competitive. Always planning something. We fight, argue, eat a lot, then laugh afterward. There's fear. But there's Family too. Not so different, huh?"

Garuda crossed his arms and muttered under his breath.

"Told you I'm universal."

Hahaha

The crowd laughed, some cautiously, others freely.

And Norian—for the first time since he arrived—felt like he wasn't being watched like an Animal.

He felt seen.

-To Be Continued