Banished Hero: I just want to live in peace on a deserted island - Chapter 135: Creating the Dream World

The waterfall roared under the moonlight, but the camp was silent. One by one, Jax’s women went inside the damp cave to sleep, exhausted from days of travel. He, however, stayed outside. As a demigod, sleep didn’t bind him. He just sat there, back against a rock, eyes fixed on the stream.

His fingers played with a golden spark of faith. So little… barely a thread of energy floating between his hands. He had spent five years trying to develop something with it, and all he could manage were simple shapes: blades of light, ephemeral wings to glide, platforms to boost himself. Useful tricks, but unworthy of a god.

“This is what a mortal would do,” he thought bitterly. “But I don’t want to fight like a mortal… I want to fight like that celestial.”

The memory still burned: that divine presence, the way reality itself bent to his gestures. It wasn’t throwing a lightning bolt or wielding a spear—it was imposing his will as law. And Jax wanted that.

The problem was, this month he couldn’t ask the celestial anything. His women had forbidden entering GRB since the last time when Lira had died at the hands of the kalamus. Lira’s absurd death still haunted them. None of them wanted to risk losing another sister again.

He sighed, staring at the thin thread of faith. He had tried everything: lightning, fire, darkness, even desire. But lightning rejected him, as if it already had an owner. The elements weren’t free. They bore a divine signature, a mark. To claim them, he’d have to tear that right from the hands of the old gods. He’d have to kill them.

Faith burned like gasoline when he experimented with abstract concepts. Darkness, time, lust… everything devoured his reserves in seconds. No, that path was bottomless.

That’s why, after five years of trial and error, he decided to try something new.

He closed his eyes. And in his mind, with faith as his brush, he began to draw a map. First, a meadow—green, endless. Then a colossal wall, and inside, a silent city, empty, waiting for life. It felt like programming a game server, remembering his hours in front of a screen. Not a weapon, not lightning—but a world.

Slowly he added details: houses, streets, tiny rivers running between the bricks. Then creatures: common animals, birds flying with simple movements, beasts patrolling the fields. Clumsy NPCs walking around, greeting with short phrases. It was all basic, rudimentary.

Faith was consumed fast. It barely lasted long enough for the meadow and a small city, nothing close to the grandeur he had imagined. But still… it was done.

He opened his eyes and smiled. He had made a world.

Without thinking too much, he stretched out his hand. A silent command. And pulled.

Jayde, the catwoman, twisted in her bed, dreaming hot and messy about him—his claws on her body, his tongue tearing moans from her lips. The dream shattered when she was ripped out of it and thrown into that illusory city.

Her eyes went wide. Stone streets, wind brushing the grass, the smell of the river. Everything felt real.

“What… what is this…?” she gasped, clutching her chest, still trembling from the dream’s aftertaste.

And then she saw him. Jax, standing tall in the middle of the empty plaza, looking at her like a god presenting his creation.

“My world,” he said calmly. “The beginning of something bigger.”

Jayde swallowed hard, her heart racing. In that instant, she understood—this wasn’t her dream. She was inside Jax’s.

She looked around, unable to close her mouth. Her feline ears twitched in every direction, catching sounds and scents. She walked to a stone fountain and dipped her hand into the water. It was cold and flowing. She jumped back, startled.

“This… this is real!” she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Jax nodded, arms crossed.

“It is. I built it. And you’re the first one to enter.”

She stared at him for a moment, as if making sure it wasn’t a joke. Then her lips curved into a wide feline grin, and she ran off down the empty streets. She climbed a wall, tested the resistance of the bricks, touched the grass with her bare hands.

“Jax, this feels like the real world! I can even smell the dirt!” she screamed, laughing like a child.

He watched her in silence. He didn’t need to move to understand what was happening. He could feel her. He felt how, while Jayde remained inside, a constant stream of faith flowed through her body into him. It was faint, like water dripping into a jar, but continuous—endless, as long as she was here.

A shiver ran down his back. His experiment had worked.

“This isn’t just a dream,” he murmured to himself, watching the catwoman leap from one rooftop to another, laughing. “It’s a kingdom.”

Jayde came running back to him, panting with excitement, eyes blazing.

“Jax, this is incredible! I could live here forever!”

He gave a faint smile.

“That’s the point.”

She didn’t fully get it, but the seriousness in his gaze stopped her.

Jax raised his hand, letting a spark of faith shine in his palm. With Jayde inside, the flow was stable, constant. No more burning through reserves like before. He hadn’t just created a space—he had found a way to feed it.

Jayde spun around him, still laughing. Then Jax raised his hand, and a golden ripple spread through the city.

“I’ll give you some control here,” he said, voice deep.

She blinked, surprised, and suddenly felt something new flow through her chest. Her eyes lit up. She stretched her hand toward the ground and, just by thinking it, a pile of bricks appeared. She squealed in excitement and tried again, this time forming smooth stones.

“Look, Jax, I can do it!” she shouted, jumping with joy like she had just found a sacred toy.

Concentrating, she imagined a sword—and right in front of her, a glowing blade of solid energy formed. She lifted it, swung it a couple of times, and laughed out loud.

“This is… this is amazing!”

But within seconds, the sword vanished, just like the stones and the bricks. Jayde gasped, staring at her hands as if she had lost something precious.

“Huh? Why can’t I anymore?” she asked, lips pushing into a pout.

Jax watched her calmly.

“Because you’ve used it all up. Everything you build here consumes the faith flowing from you to me. It’s not infinite. Not yet.”

Jayde frowned, her ears drooping, her tail falling limp.

“So… just a little? I wanted to keep making things…”

He stepped closer, placed a hand on her shoulder, and smiled.

“Don’t worry. This is just the start. In time, your faith will grow so much you’ll be able to shape this world however you want. Bricks, weapons… even anything your imagination desires.”

Jayde stared at him, her sadness mixing with a spark of ambition.

“Really?”

“Really,” Jax affirmed.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, already daydreaming about the wonders she would build next time.