Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 64: Almighty creator

Chapter 64: Almighty creator

Darkness.

Shennong couldn’t feel his body. Again. The weightlessness was almost comforting this time, like sinking into a warm, endless sea. There was no panic—just... awareness.

And then he was there.

That same figure under the golden apple tree. Cloaked in a flowing robe that shimmered like molten glass, head bowed, hands deftly crafting something small, intricate—delicate runes glowing with each motion. The golden apples above shimmered with a divine luster, like they held secrets too vast for mortals to comprehend.

The same dream. The same man. Or woman? Why can’t I see their face?

But unlike the first time, Shennong didn’t try to reach out. Something within him knew—if he moved, the vision would vanish. So he simply... watched.

Who are you? And why are you always here?

Memories began to stir in his mind, like tides pulling open forgotten pages of his soul. In his past life... he had been human. A man of Earth. Of technology, of order and chaos, of skyscrapers and machines. He had lived a full life—he remembered the feel of sunlight through the curtains of a modest home, the laughter of a younger sibling, and the warm embrace of his parents. He had been happy.

Yet even then, something had always felt off.

A hole in his heart he could never fill. A dream he kept seeing as a child—this same golden apple tree, this same silent crafter. Always watching. Always just out of reach.

His fingers twitched, but the dream began to fade—melting like mist under sunlight.

And then—

Drip.

A strange sensation. Wetness? A drop on his cheek. Then another. He opened his eyes.

Blur. Blinding light. A sob.

He blinked rapidly, trying to focus.

And suddenly—they were there.

"SHENNONNNGG!" a voice cried out, cracking and hoarse with emotion.

His lungs spasmed.

"Khak—!" He coughed violently, air rushing into his chest like a dam breaking. His body convulsed, and his vision cleared.

Three figures clung to him—cloaked in mud, blood, and worry.

"Yenissa...? Rilith? Velara?" he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Tears streamed down their faces. Even Yenissa. The succubus who once proudly claimed, "We don’t cry. It’s not in our nature." And yet her shoulders trembled as sobs wracked her chest.

Yenissa didn’t respond immediately. She just threw her arms around his chest, hugging him like she’d never let go again. Rilith and Velara followed, forming a warm, desperate pile of limbs and love around him.

"Ah—ow, ow! Yenissa... my back—!" he gasped.

Yenissa quickly loosened her grip, pulling back. Her golden eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "S-Sorry! I forgot—gods, I thought we lost you!"

Shennong blinked. "What... what are you doing here?"

"We came to get you, idiot," Rilith sniffled, pressing her forehead against his. "You stopped responding. You were gone for so long."

"We found your blood trail. Followed it through the mushrooms and those nasty spore wolves," Velara added, rubbing her eyes. "But you... you were cold. You weren’t breathing."

"I—I wasn’t?" Shennong asked, dazed.

"You weren’t," Yenissa growled, eyes fierce now. "I thought I’d lost you."

She cupped his face with shaking hands. "But your heartbeat came back... I heard it."

Shennong let out a deep breath, his hand reaching for hers. "Thanks for... coming."

Yenissa wiped her tears. "You’re damn right we did. Don’t think I’ll let you leave our main room again without a damn escort, not in my succubi life!"

He smiled weakly, but his thoughts were racing.

That man... the golden apple tree. That wasn’t a hallucination. It was real.

He looked around, eyes narrowing. The Lunamarite hut was still dimly lit by the glowing blue stones embedded in the walls. Yet something felt... organized. The schematics—dozens of them—were all laid out in perfect order, stacked carefully like someone had arranged them just for him.

"Wait..." he whispered. "Where’s the man?"

Yenissa looked confused. "What man?"

"The one who... saved me. I was in danger. Someone pulled me out."

"There was no one," Rilith said softly. "Just you... and those mutated wolves. We had to fight through them to reach you."

Velara nodded. "They were stronger than anything we’ve faced before. Smart too."

Shennong’s brow furrowed. "Then... was it really a hallucination?"

His heart told him no.

"Yenissa, check my system. Something feels... different."

"Uh... okay?" she said, pulling up his interface, her fingers moving quickly. Then her eyes widened.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Your crafting level—it ranked up. To Level 3."

Shennong stared at her. "I knew it..."

[Name: Shennong]

Age: 18

Class: Sandboxer, Collector

Crafting Rank: 3

Power Rank: C

Skills: [Sandboxer: Level 3], [Scannable: Level 2], [Inventory: Level 4]

New blueprints flashed in his mind as he pulled open his personal menu.

Beyond the standard crafting table and furniture schematics, two new ones caught his eye:

[Real-Time Language Translator]

[Mutator]

Both shared one common main ingredient: Lunamarite.

"That man... he wasn’t a dream. He gave me this."

Shennong slowly sat up, ignoring the pain in his ribs.

"What are you doing?" Yenissa asked, ready to push him back down.

"Just... one thing." He crawled toward the schematics. There, on the very top schematic—written in elegant handwriting:

[Almighty Creator]

His breath caught. He touched the words.

"Okay," Yenissa said firmly, pulling him back. "That’s enough. We’re going back."

Shennong didn’t argue. "You’re right. Sorry for making you worry."

"You better be," she snapped, slinging his arm over her shoulder. "You scared the hell out of me."

"I’ll make it up to you," he muttered.

"Damn right you will," she smirked. "Starting with never going off alone again."

Rilith and Velara gathered the rest of the schematics and spare Lunamarite shards. Shennong also scooped up several dead Core fragments lying across the floor—faintly pulsing with residual energy.

And he quickly stored everything in his inventory hoping he would have enough space, and luckily he had some but it was already on the verge of getting full, so he knew he had to empty his inveotry into some chests.

As they ascended, Shennong fired his grappling hook into the rock above, anchoring their path. It was a painful climb, but eventually, they broke through the upper cavern and returned to the surface where sunlight peeked through the craggy hills.

But Shennong barely took in the view—his body finally gave in.

"Alright, alright," Yenissa said with a frustrated groan, scooping him up like a bride. "You’re not walking."

"I can walk—" he protested.

"You almost died, you dumb human. No, you’re riding me now."

"Could’ve worded that better," Rilith coughed.

Velara giggled. "She’s too emotional to think of phrasing. I never thought Yenissa would call her golden boy dumb!"

As they walked back toward the base, Yenissa’s pace quickened. Her mind was racing, calculating, planning.

"Yenissa?" Shennong whispered, half-conscious on her back.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks... for coming."

Her lips trembled, but she managed a grin. "Don’t thank me yet. I’m not letting you die before me."

"...Appreciate that, I think."

Then, just loud enough for herself to hear, she whispered:

"Cassandra. I’m calling Cassandra. She is the only one who can find a human healer to fix you now."

***

She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her long dark hair slowly, her gaze distant, her heart heavy. Her hands trembled slightly as she looked at her reflection.

The nightgown she wore clung delicately to her figure, a translucent silk blend that shimmered under the illumination of undying torch. The soft lavender hue complemented her pale skin, and the lace detailing ran along the hem of the skirt, just barely covering her thighs. The upper part of the gown was thin, nearly sheer—just enough to leave little to the imagination. Shennong had chosen this for her, smiling with that quiet confidence of his, saying it reminded him of moonlight over clear waters.

A bitter smile touched her lips as she hugged herself tightly.

"He’s not here," she whispered. "But it still feels like he is..."

Her arms squeezed around her torso, the faint warmth of the gown reminding her of the last night they shared—their confessions, their connection, the way his hand lingered over her heart before he kissed her and made her his. The memory made her chest ache.

"Where are you, Shennong?" she murmured, lips quivering. "Why haven’t you returned...?"

Then, just as she turned toward the bed, a sudden chill snaked down her spine. It was hauntingly familiar—eerily reminiscent of the very moment they first laid bare their feelings for each other, when their souls felt like they had intertwined under some ancient, primal force.

Cassandra froze.

Something—no, someone—was here.

Her breath hitched.

And then, as her eyes adjusted to the faint shadows, she saw her.

Sitting silently at the edge of the bed, dressed in her erotic black panties and bra, glowing faintly from within, was Yenissa. Same Yenissa, who was the motherly figure to her beloved Shennong.

Cassandra’s heart jumped to her throat.

"Yenissa..." she whispered.

"I know," Yenissa said softly, raising a hand. "I startled you."

"You could say that," Cassandra admitted, trying her best to compose herself, even though her fingers clenched the sides of her gown tightly. "You’re... the one who protected Shennong."

"Yes," Yenissa replied, her voice gentle and melodic. "And I have no intention of harming you, Cassandra. Quite the opposite."

"Then why... why are you here?"

Yenissa’s lips curved into a small, melancholic smile. "Because I want to welcome you... as his wife."

Cassandra blinked, stunned. "His... what?"

The weight of the word made her breath catch. It wasn’t a title thrown lightly.

"I can feel how much he cherishes you," Yenissa said. "And tonight, I came to you not just as his guardian, but as someone who sees your place beside him."

Cassandra let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging from the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. "He hasn’t been back. Not even once. I... I’ve been so worried. Do you know where he is?"

Yenissa looked away for a moment, her eyes glimmering with something close to pain.

"That’s... exactly why I’m here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassandra’s expression shifted, concern overtaking confusion. "What do you mean?"

Yenissa hesitated. Then, slowly, her voice broke.

"His situation... it’s looking very bad."

The air was knocked out of Cassandra’s lungs.

"What... what are you saying?"

Yenissa’s hands tightened over her knees. "If not treated properly, I fear he may never be able to walk again."

The words hit like a slap.

Cassandra fell to her knees, her hand clutching the side of the bed. "No... That’s not possible. Shennong is strong. He... he’s always survived."

"He was digging," Yenissa explained, her voice trembling now. "For something ancient. Something buried deep beneath the ruins. But then he faced some ancient beast. His ribcage was shattered, his right hand is almost paralyzed, and both of his legs... crushed. I tried healing him with all my power. But I... I can’t do what your kind can."

Tears streamed freely down Cassandra’s face now, her chest heaving with grief. "No... no, please..."

"I need your help," Yenissa said. "He trusts you. I trust you. And more than that—he needs you. I want to bring him to your mansion. Here. Tonight."

"Why haven’t you already!?" Cassandra burst, then quickly calmed herself, pressing her forehead to the floor. "Please. Please bring him. I’ll... I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll find a healer, a priest, anyone. I’ll—I’ll sell everything I own if I have to."

Yenissa knelt beside her and cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears gently.

"I don’t want you to sell anything," she said with a soft smile. "I just need you to try. Use the human networks. Call in favors. Do everything you can and help him,"

Cassandra slowly raised her eyes to meet hers. There was no fear now—only resolve.

"I would sell myself if it meant saving him," she said firmly. "So yes, I’ll do it. Whatever it takes. Just trust me, Yenissa."

Yenissa’s smile widened. "I knew Shennong had good taste in women. I can see why."

Cassandra chuckled through her tears. "I could say the same. He had good taste in... guardians."

They shared a brief, knowing look, and for the first time, it felt as though an unspoken bond had been formed between them—between protector and lover, between past and present.

"Then I’ll take my leave for now," Yenissa said, rising slowly. "You’ll find him in the guest chamber within the hour. I’ve stabilized him for transport."

"Thank you," Cassandra whispered, clutching her hand. "Truly."

Yenissa nodded. "Farewell, Lady Cassandra. Don’t let me down."

And just like that, she vanished into shadows, as quiet as the wind.

Cassandra sat in stunned silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling onto her shoulders like a mountain. Then, without hesitation, she stood up and moved toward her study desk. Her nightgown rustled softly as she sat down, still glowing faintly under the moonlight.

She grabbed her quill and opened a thick leather-bound book.

Think, Cassandra. Think. Who do you know? Who owes you a favor? Who can save him?

Her hand moved quickly, scratching names onto the parchment:

– High Priestess Althera – Temple of Moonlight

– Sage Amalee – Jamari Enclave, Eastern Heights

– Doctor Kael of House Belmaris – Medical Guildmaster

– Lady Selice – Forbidden Healer of the Outskirts

– Enchantress Volana – Specialist in Nerve and Bone Reconstruction

"None of them are perfect," she muttered. "I need the best one."

Her eyes burned with purpose now, and her heart beat louder than it had in weeks. Shennong needed her—and by all the stars above, she wouldn’t let him down.

Not now. Not ever.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.