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Eshmund was eating breakfast at the rooftop nursery above his workshop. He sat at the edge of the roof, legs swinging freely as he gazed down at the herb garden from above. The morning sun cast a warm glow across the plants, the view fascinated him. He was wrapping up a few final tasks before planning to head home to visit his family. If all went well, the round trip would take about three days – assuming no convenient ride on a giant magical beast like the one that had flown him to the sect in the first place. He’d definitely need to talk to Elder Qiyang. Hopefully, the old man could sort out transportation. After all, Eshmund couldn’t leave the herb garden unattended for too long, and Elder Qiyang had always been supportive. As he mentally listed what still needed to be done, Sage’s voice suddenly popped into his mind like a system notification that didn’t believe in personal space. “Hey, I made a slight modification to your design,” Sage said casually. “Huh? What part? Show me.” Eshmund raised an eyebrow, already half-expecting Sage to change something weird again. A set of diagrams popped into view – layered schematics of multiple EE-circuits all tangled together like magical spaghetti. “See these circuits? I updated the handling process for shared subspaces,” Sage explained. “You might have missed that part or forgot them. Shared subspaces behave a bit differently than private ones when you’re trying to retrieve an item.” Eshmund leaned in, squinting. “I see, yeah. I was planning to do something about it but found another problem, then I competely forgot about that. Go on.” “In a non-shared subspace, it’s simple. Just stimulate the item inside the subspace with a bit of elemental energy, and poof – it pops out into this world,” Sage said. “Right, because the entry and exit point are the same. No need for fancy routing or anything,” Eshmund nodded. “Exactly. But with a shared subspace, especially the kind we’re building for data transmission, the game changes. Since multiple Void Stones are connected to one subspace, the exit destination has to be decided when the data or item enters. The nanobots already know where their next hop is since the destination broadcast its location to every nanobots.” “Okay, so far so good. But I’m sensing a headache coming,” Eshmund muttered. “Then brace yourself,” Sage quipped. “Right now, we’re only dealing with one subspace shared by multiple Void Stones. But eventually, we’ll have to connect multiple subspaces together – basically forming a giant magical network.” “You’re saying… we’re building the Internet of Subspace?” Eshmund blinked. “Yup. And just like the Internet, if we don’t design it properly, we’re gonna regret it. Remember what happened with IPv4?” “Oh yeah, total address exhaustion. No more new addresses, had to hack things together with NAT, CIDR, and finally IPv6,” Eshmund said, nodding with a nostalgic grimace. “Exactly. So this is your friendly reminder to start thinking about address protocols for all your fancy stuff – space pouches, dimensional doors, the vending kiosk, everything. Otherwise, future-you will want to strangle past-you.” Eshmund chuckled. “Duly noted. For the dimensional doors, I guess I’ll need a way to lock destinations. Only the intended exit point should be active for general users, but high-level users – admins like me – should be able to choose their destination from inside the hub subspace.” “Correct. You can either pre-set your destination or enter the subspace hub and pick your exit point manually. Just don’t get lost in there,” Sage warned. “Ah, thats almost impossible, since I have you.” Eshmund grinned. “Also, for custom pouches meant for non-elemental users, we can embed identifier formations or runes in them. Treat them like user access levels. In-case I got knocked out and somebody rummaged through my stuff, we definitely need a verification system to block random dudes from entering the Dimensional Doors too” Eshmund said “Oh! Since we’re at it, let’s add a party system,” he added. “Let a party leader override the exit destination for their members. Might come in handy during emergencies or if someone wanders off like an idiot.” “I’ll get on it. I’ll prioritize anything that’s actually feasible and not you just throwing spaghetti at the subspace wall,” Sage replied dryly. “Hey, sometimes that spaghetti sticks – and makes a great spell formation. Also, not everyone understand how gravity work but it still does work for them. If it’s usable, people should not worry about those kind of things” Eshmund retorted. “I’m sure that’s how half of magic got invented.” Sage replied Eshmund smirked, but his tone shifted slightly. “Still, I keep thinking… it might be a waste if we don’t try for a larger subspace. I want to go again. Try to bind something bigger.” “That’s a good idea,” Sage agreed. “Once the vending machine is live and people start uploading materials, we’re going to need serious storage capacity. Better to prepare now than scramble later.” Eshmund took a breath, feeling the spark of purpose returning. “Alright then. Let’s go break reality a little.”

Since there were no classes today, Eshmund took his time. Instead of the usual direct route, he walked the long route – meandering through the spirit rice fields maintained by the Agricultural Department. He was heading to the same lakeside spot he had visited before, craving the peace and the view. The weather, however, didn’t seem to agree with his mood. The sky loomed low, bloated with thick, rolling clouds that seemed to press down on the land. A chill breeze swept through the rice stalks, making them rustle and sway in rhythm, their sharp leaves brushing together with a dry, whispering sound. The wind carried a scent of damp soil and ozone, and the air had that prickly, electric weight that always preceded a storm. It gave the entire field an eerie atmosphere – like something was watching just beyond the edges of his perception. Eshmund exhaled softly. Rain’s coming, he thought. Morning rain like this would drench the fields and drop the temperature, but at least his body wasn’t like before. Reconditioned by nanobots, he no longer feared the cold. One of the many perks of being rebuilt from the inside out. He was mid-step when Sage pinged him with a sharp burst of urgency. “Eshmund,” Sage said, “we’ve got a hit. Subspace activity – fifty meters ahead, dead center of the rice field.” A faint electrical crackle accompanied the voice, and when Eshmund looked toward the direction Sage highlighted, he saw it – tiny arcs of lightning snapping out from seemingly empty air, dancing between invisible seams. He approached cautiously, brushing past golden rice stalks as he walked. At the location Sage had marked, the air felt heavy, like the world was holding its breath. Static clung to his skin, and the closer he got, the more his instincts screamed alert. The hair on his arms stood on end, and his breath puffed visibly in the morning air. “This one feels… different,” he muttered, pulling a top-grade Void Stone from his storage pouch. He began the binding process, channeling elemental energy into the stone. Normally, the process was straightforward. A few minutes, maybe less, and the subspace would stabilize and bind to the Void Stone. But this one didn’t follow the rules. The stone trembled in his hand, flickering with erratic bursts of energy, and the subspace itself pulsed violently – waves of dense elemental energy flaring and fading like a storm-tossed heartbeat. Despite the chaotic surge, Eshmund stayed focused, maintaining the binding formation. While waiting, he moved across the field and detected a few smaller subspace fluctuations. Those were simple enough – he bound them with ease, most stabilizing within 10 minutes like they normally do. But that first one that one refused to settle. “It’s taking forever,” he muttered, frowning at the floating top-grade Void Stone as it flickered like a candle in the wind. “Correction: fifty-six minutes and counting,” Sage chimed in, voice deadpan. “I wasn’t asking for a timer,” Eshmund replied, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Then, finally – nearly an hour later – the Void Stone pulsed once, sharply, then went still. The unstable energy vanished. The subspace had stabilised. The floating Top-grade void stone dropped to the ground. Just as he knelt down to pick up the Void Stone and examine the result, the rice plants leaves behind him rustled. A guard appeared, sword at his waist and brow furrowed. “Is everything alright, Student Eshmund? We detected strange Elemental Energy fluctuations.” The guard asked Eshmund recognized him. He is Luban – one of the guards assigned by the elders to monitor and protect him. Just his luck. Before Eshmund could respond, more figures emerged from the surrounding field – disciples, curious cultivators, and even a few elders, all drawn by the unusual elemental surge. He sighed inwardly. So much for a quiet morning. “Good thing the binding of that weird subspace finished just in time,” he thought. He couldn’t exactly tell them what he’d really done – no one else even knew how to detect naturally occurring subspaces, let alone bind them. That was his secret. Fortunately, he didn’t need to explain anything. With the energy fluctuations gone, everyone would probably assume he had come here for the same reason they did: curiosity about the anomaly. The gathered cultivators murmured amongst themselves, speculating about the strange event and trying to decipher the residual energy. Eshmund barely had time to think when a sudden shout pierced through the low hum of conversation. “Spirit beasts! Over there! It’s a group of Fire Spirit Squirrels!” All heads turned toward the commotion. Five fiery squirrels, each no larger than a housecat, with bright red fiery stripes down their backs, darted across the field in a blur of motion. The moment cultivators moved to intercept them, the squirrels scattered like sparks caught in a gust of wind. “They’re fast!” someone shouted. “Catch them – those could become great, beast helpers!” Eshmund’s gaze locked onto the largest one – clearly the mother. She burned brighter, her flames more vibrant, her movements purposeful. Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint and joined the chase. Before he knew it, he and a few others had already made it to the forest near Tuangran Lake – the same place where he had bound subspaces before. But the mother squirrel had vanished, slipping from sight in the blink of an eye. “Lost her,” one disciple panted, eyes scanning the ground. With no other option, the others began to spread out, hoping to track down the scattered squirrels. Eshmund, however, didn’t follow. Sage had stopped him. “We’ve got her location,” Sage said calmly in his mind. “I tracked her. She dove into a hidden hole under a rock about ten meters to the east. There’s a damaged spirit beast pouch inside.” Eshmund veered toward the spot Sage marked. Sure enough, a lichen-covered rock sat half-buried in the dirt. He pushed it aside and found a small, weather-worn pouch tucked into the ground. The leather was cracked, seams worn thin by time and rain, but the Void Stone embedded in it still glowed faintly. The stone is still functional. “She went in here?” Eshmund asked. “Most likely,” Sage replied. “I followed her presence up to this point. She vanished right after. That pouch is the only logical destination – otherwise we’d still be tracking her.” Eshmund brushed dirt and moss from the pouch. A strip of rotted silk cloth clung to its side, fused around the Void Stone. The old magic was faint, but it was there. “It’s stone still functional ,” he murmured. “I think this was part of that old contribution task,” he muttered. “The one I never got around to finish. That Fire Squirrel tracking task.. The Squirrel has been living in here the whole time.” He tucked the pouch into his storage bag, glancing once more at the field. The Void Stone he had just finished binding still glowed faintly, humming with potential. “One weird discovery after another, huh?” he muttered. “You wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sage replied, amused.
Eshmund still had some energy left, but after the unexpected appearance of that guard earlier, he chose not to bind another subspace on the spot. Just as he expected, the guard hadn’t asked any questions about what he was doing in the middle of the rice field. Eshmund was glad he didn’t press further. He knew better than to gamble with secrets that could reshape the rules of cultivation. Even if the elders were keeping their word and giving him space, it didn’t mean he should tempt fate by flaunting something as game-changing as the method of finding natural subspace. Playing it safe, Eshmund returned to the workshop and directly head to the underground lab. Once inside the privacy of his workspace, he pulled out the Void Stones he’d managed to bind earlier, lining them up carefully on the table. They glimmered faintly under the lights, each one pulsing with energy. Four superior-grade Void Stones, each holding a ten-meter square subspace. Unfortunately, that was an overkill. Those stones would need to be unbound and reused for more attempts later. But two others were just right – medium-grade Void Stones, each successfully bound to a fifty-meter square subspace, which is acceptable. “These two are good. We keep them,” Eshmund muttered, moving them to the side. “It’s such a waste of effort to unbind the others,” Sage said. “We could transfer those smaller subspaces into appropriately graded Void Stones later. It’ll take extra steps, but it’s better than losing the effort.” “I was thinking the same. With the guards watching, we can’t waste our gains. We bind low-grade stones to those subspaces First, making them a shared subspace, then unbind the high-grade ones for more attempts later,” Eshmund said. “I just need to tag them properly so I don’t accidentally sell them off as basic space pouches.” “Indeed,” Sage replied. Eshmund’s gaze landed on the last Void Stone – the odd one. A top-grade stone with a strange reaction during the binding process. “Alright, let’s see what kind of oddity we’ve caught in here,” he said with a grin. “Hopefully something with, I don’t know, a zillion-meter square of space.” “A zillion is not a number,” Sage deadpanned. “Come on, bro, I know,” Eshmund laughed. “Let me have this moment.” Channeling a thin thread of spiritual sense, Eshmund touched the runes etched into the Void Stone. As they activated, a sudden surge of dense spiritual energy pulsed from within. He immediately cut the link. “Whoa. Yeah, it’s big. But I don’t think it’s more than 500 meters square. I just can’t feel the boundaries clearly,” he said, puzzled. “I’m reading your brain signals. You’re right – it’s not normal. The elemental energy inside is unusually dense. I’m sending in the nanobots to investigate,” Sage said. Once more, the Void Stone lit up, and thick waves of energy seeped into the air, too rich and potent to go unnoticed for long. “We shouldn’t activate this casually,” Sage warned. “Someone might detect it – like back in the field.” “Yeah. It’s dangerous,” Eshmund agreed, stepping back. Twenty minutes passed. When Eshmund activated the Void Stone again, it was only to retrieve the nanobots carrying internal scans. “The internal space measures approximately 455 meters square,” Sage reported. Eshmund raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? For a top-grade stone? That’s still a waste. I thought they could hold like, ten thousand meters square or more.” “They can. But this isn’t a waste. In fact, you might’ve gotten extremely lucky,” Sage said. “What do you mean?” “View the data. The subspace is saturated with elemental energy. Natural crystals have formed inside – unknown materials similar to spirit stones, but far denser. The entire space is filled with them. We don’t know exactly what they are, but based on energy levels alone, this subspace is a treasure trove.” Eshmund’s mind flooded with data as Sage uploaded the visuals and readings. His eyes widened. “Holy cow! This mineral has more energy than a high-grade spirit stone – and there are mountains of it in there. You’re saying we can use this as a spirit stone substitute?” “Yes. That’s the idea. But we don’t need to mine it like traditional ores. If we modify the Void Stone’s rune circuit, we can tap directly into the subspace’s energy. Think of it as an ultra-dense, power source. We’ll only need to stabilize the draw – the energy frequency is too aggressive for your body in its raw form.” “Yeah, even normal elemental energy needs refining. This’ll probably need a few extra layers of it. Still it’s energy. Usable energy. I’ll leave the design to you.” “Absolutely. I’ll start linking the nanobot network to the subspace so we can monitor it internally. No need to open it again unless necessary. Consider it a shared nanobot subspace for now.” “Thank you. If we can get this working, we might’ve just solved our external energy source problem,” Eshmund said, hope rising in his voice. With that taken care of, he pulled out another item from his pouch – a beast sack softly rustling from within. “Alright,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s check in on our new squirrel friend.”
As soon as Eshmund activated the Beast Pouch’s Void Stone, a flash of red light burst from its center. Instinct kicked in. He twisted his body and raised his arm just in time to block an incoming strike. Bam! The impact reverberated through his body. A small but deceptively powerful form had slammed headfirst into him – eyes glowing with fury and fur streaked with soot. It was the mother Fire Squirrel, and she’d launched a headbutt straight at his face the moment she was released. Luckily, he was wearing the Guardian Ironwood Bangle. A thin, green-colored energy shield flared to life just as the attack connected, absorbing most of the blow. Still, the raw force sent him skidding back several steps, boots dragging furrows in the dirt. “Well, someone’s cranky,” he muttered, steadying himself. The squirrel dropped to the ground in a low crouch, her fiery tail twitching like a fuse waiting to be lit. She didn’t hesitate. In a blur, she lunged again. But this time, Eshmund was ready. He pivoted, letting her miss by inches, and sidestepped with fluid precision. His Phantom Steps, already refined to the adept level, turned his body into a blur of afterimages. Dodging her next two strikes was effortless. A third caught his shoulder – but only nudged him back slightly. “Calm down, alright? I meant no harm,” he called out, hands raised, voice calm. No use. The Fire Squirrel didn’t understand – or didn’t care. She struck again and again, each movement more sluggish than the last. Her limbs trembled. Her breath came in short gasps. That’s when Eshmund noticed it. Blood.

Several wounds marred her small body – patches of scorched, bare skin showing beneath the singed fur along her back and belly. One gash still oozed blood, and the burns… they weren’t caused by her own fire. These were the marks of hostile spells. “Heh. So much for that legendary fire resistance,” Eshmund muttered, crouching slightly. “Thought Fire Squirrels were tougher than that. Look like you’re just so-so.” He said to the Squirrel The squirrel froze, eyes widening. Her face contorted in outrage. Then, with a piercing squeak, she reared back, head raised like a wolf mid-howl. “Oh? So you do understand speech,” Eshmund smirked. “What now, you cute little thing?” She didn’t rise to the bait – not directly. Instead, her posture locked into a rigid stance, and a flicker of heat surged in the air. A spark danced then caught flame. A glowing red fireball formed – hovering above her head, spinning, intensifying. It grew, condensing into a dense sphere the size of a ping pong ball. The air around it shimmered. Eshmund’s smirk vanished. “That thing’s hot,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not imagining it,” Sage chimed in. “It’s a homing fireball. Definitely a special ability. Unavoidable unless you block or tank it.” “Nice,” Eshmund murmured. “Homing fireball, not bad for a little squirrel.” “I’ve scanned its core signature. That thing packs the output of a level 7 Qi Condensation cultivator. She’s a level 3 beast, but that skill? It’s way above her tier.” “Great. Now I really want to study her.” “She launches that, and you’re roasted. Unless you’re wearing the bangle,” Sage added. “I am wearing it.” “Then it’ll tickle. Maybe toast your clothes, but that’s it.” The squirrel dipped her head – and launched the fireball. It flew toward him like a guided missile, locking onto his presence. Eshmund bolted, blurring into motion, twisting and weaving through the space. No matter how he pivoted, ducked, or vaulted – it kept coming. “Tch. Persistent little thing.” He stopped running. Then, in a flash, he reversed course and dashed straight at her. Pushing his Phantom Step to its limit, he zigzagged past the fireball and closed the distance. His fist connected with her side – not full force, but enough to knock her back. The squirrel yelped and skidded across the floor. The fireball froze in midair, flickering in place. “See?” Eshmund called out. “I held back. You think I’m trying to kill you? If I was serious, you’d be meat paste.” The squirrel groaned and rose to her feet, dazed but defiant. The fireball resumed its pursuit. Eshmund sighed and stopped running. “Fine.” Eshmund opened his arms and braced himself. The fireball slammed into him. Boom!! . A burst of heat washed over the room. His outer robe caught fire, reduced to ash in seconds. But underneath, the skin tight black inner suit – woven from spider silk thread and enhanced with heat-resistant enchantments – remained intact, otherwise he’d be but naked. He stood there, smoke curling off his shoulders, completely unharmed. The squirrel stared, her eyes wide, shocked. Then she dropped to her side. And began rolling. Back and forth. Squeaking. Thrashing in the dirt like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Eshmund blinked. Then burst out laughing. “What the hell? Are you frustrated?” The squirrel squeaked louder, kicking at the ground. Her cheeks puffed up. Eshmund clutched his side, still laughing. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, okay? Seriously. I was just curious.” He knelt down slowly, keeping his movements non-threatening. “Look, ma’am, I really don’t have any intention to fight you. I mean you’re adorable. You’ve got fire, I respect that. But chill.” The squirrel paused mid-roll, chest heaving, singed tail twitching. Then, slowly, she sat up and tilted her head – ears flicking curiously. Her cute eyes stared at Eshmund.
“Are you calm now? Let me take a look at your wounds. I’m trained as a healer you know,” Eshmund said gently. The squirrel had already resigned herself, seemingly surrendering. Her body twitched slightly in rejection when Eshmund touched the wound, but it didn’t last long. “Sage, use the nanobots to close those external wounds,” he said. The air shimmered faintly – a sign of the nanobots clumping together. Dust-like particles formed and floated over her wounds. Sensing their effect, the squirrel stopped resisting. After a few minutes, the bleeding stopped. Eshmund took out the Cold Umbra Glass plate he used in class and cleaned it. Then he asked the nanobots to draw a healing magic circle using some Boric Ink. “If we had better ink, the effect would be stronger but this should work too,” he said. He picked up the squirrel and gently placed her in the center of the circle. Then, he connected an energy gathering plate to the setup and injected elemental energy into the circuit to jumpstart it. The magic circle glowed with a soft white light. The wounds on the squirrel began to scab, and new skin started growing – a process visible to the naked eye. After about ten minutes, the squirrel’s wounds were completely healed, leaving only some bald pathes behind. The magic couldn’t help with fur regrowth – there was no real way to speed that up. Once healed, the squirrel hopped off the circle and ran a few energetic laps around the room. She then jumped in front of Eshmund, squeaking a few times as if to say thank you. A very intelligent little thing. Moments later, she leapt onto the table where the Beast Pouch sat and re-entered it by wrapping her body with energy. Eshmund was dumbfounded – but only for a moment. She quickly came back out, this time standing on her hind legs and cradling a smaller, unconscious squirrel in her front paws. Her child. And it looked badly wounded. Eshmund understood immediately. He took the baby squirrel and laid it gently on the healing plate, then asked Sage to assess the situation. “This baby seems to be in a coma,” Sage reported. “The wounds on the body aren’t serious, but there’s a problem with its brain’s electrical signals.” “Was it hit by an enslavement spell?” Eshmund asked. “Most likely but it was interrupted midway. The brain’s electrical activity is all messed up. I don’t think we can fix this,” Sage added, his tone carrying a rare trace of hopelessness. Eshmund looked at the mother squirrel. “Sorry the soul realm is still beyond me.” The mother squirrel squeaked softly. She just stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. “Let’s keep him inside the Beast Pouch,” Eshmund said. “Sage, assign nanobots to keep him stable – maybe even try to repair the damage over time.” Then, sensing the mother’s emotions, he added reassuringly, “We’ll try. We’re not giving up on him. I have a guardian deity inside me called Sage. He’ll keep your baby safe until we figure out how to heal him.”