I left the garden after another hour of watching Christine and Emma sample every fruit Mom had cultivated. The walk back through the palace corridors gave me space to think, to process ideas that had been circulating through my mind for days now.
My room in the Core Palace was simple compared to the elaborate architecture elsewhere. A bed, a desk, shelves lined with memory crystals containing techniques I'd absorbed from Jihasti's collection. The meditation cushion in the center drew me like gravity, and I settled onto it cross-legged.
Cell phones worked in the Eastern Region. Wi-Fi signals transmitted without issue. I'd deliberately allowed those technologies through the portal screening because cutting people off from communication entirely seemed unnecessarily harsh. But every time I saw someone staring at their phone screen in American City, scrolling through Earth news or social media, something nagged at me.
The cultivation world had better solutions.
Virtual space technology wasn't some advanced secret reserved for immortals. Any decent inscription master in the mortal realms could craft the artifacts needed to create shared mental environments. Trading networks, information databases, combat simulations, alchemy workshops that existed purely in constructed reality. Entire governments ran on systems that made Earth's internet look primitive by comparison.
The basic principle was elegant. Complex inscriptions carved into an artifact created the framework for a virtual world. Tokens attuned to that artifact, similar to my identity tokens, allowed users to project their consciousness into the space. Focus on the token, will yourself forward, and suddenly you existed in a place that wasn't physically real but felt completely tangible to your mind.
The limitation came from the artifact itself. Whatever cultivation realm the core artifact could handle determined how much power users could manifest inside the virtual space. For simple applications like messaging or browsing information, that didn't matter. But combat arenas? Alchemy demonstrations where spiritual sense and energy control were essential? Those required artifacts powerful enough to support the users' full capabilities.
'I lack the cultivation to craft something like that.'
The thought crystallized as I settled deeper into meditation. My Meridian Opening second layer cultivation was respectable for someone who'd been at this for barely over a month, but inscription work of that complexity required realms I wouldn't reach for years. Decades, maybe, if I progressed at normal rates.
But I wasn't normal. I had the Heavenly Dao.
I reached inward, touching that presence that existed at the edge of my awareness. The world bead's consciousness responded immediately, curious and attentive.
'Is there a way to create virtual space technology for the Eastern Region? Something that doesn't require me to craft artifacts beyond my current ability?'
Images flooded my mind. Not words, but concepts and possibilities that the Heavenly Dao conveyed directly. I saw the world bead itself, that sphere of contained reality residing in my chest, and understood.
The bead could serve as the virtual space artifact.
Its own existence already contained an entire world, managed reality on a scale that dwarfed any inscription master's work. Creating a virtual layer within that reality, a space where consciousness could gather without physical presence, fell well within its capabilities. The Heavenly Dao could construct and maintain the environment, handle connections from identity tokens, manage permissions and access.
But there were limits.
The world bead's current evolution restricted what cultivation realms it could fully support in virtual space. Right now, that maximum sat at Core Formation realm. Anyone beyond that would find their power artificially capped when they entered the virtual environment, their abilities compressed down to match what the system could handle.
For most current users, that didn't matter. The average cultivation level in American City had just reached Body Tempering fourth layer. Core Formation represented a distant goal, something months or years away even for the most dedicated practitioners.
And the limit would rise as the world bead evolved.
The Heavenly Dao conveyed confidence in that point. As it grew stronger, absorbed more energy, developed its internal systems, the virtual space capabilities would expand naturally. Eventually it could support Nascent Soul cultivators, Domain Manifestation experts, even immortals if it evolved far enough.
Over the next few hours, the Heavenly Dao and I coordinated on the design of this virtual space. I offered suggestions based on Earth's internet architecture while it contributed understanding of how consciousness interfaced with reality. We built menus, navigation systems, ways to organize information that felt intuitive. The work flowed naturally, my thoughts merging with its vast awareness until the distinction between designer and implementation blurred.
When we finished, the Heavenly Dao sent the update.
Every identity token holder received it simultaneously. A pulse of awareness, a notification that bloomed in their minds announcing the new virtual space system. Instructions appeared automatically, explaining how to focus on the token and project consciousness forward.
I settled deeper into meditation and did exactly that.
The transition happened without warning. One moment I sat in my room in the Core Palace, the next I stood in pure white emptiness that stretched infinitely in all directions. No floor, no ceiling, just endless blank space that somehow supported my weight.
Except it wasn't my weight. This wasn't my body. I glanced down at hands that looked identical to my real ones, felt the same clothes I'd been wearing, but knew with absolute certainty that my physical form remained cross-legged on that meditation cushion.
"What the hell?"
The voice came from my left. A man in his thirties materialized from nothing, stumbling slightly as he appeared. Then another person blinked into existence. And another. Within seconds, about a dozen people stood in the white void, all wearing expressions of confusion and wonder.
"This feels real." A woman touched her own arm, then reached out to tap the shoulder of the person next to her. "I can feel everything."
"It's not though." The man who'd spoken first pointed upward. "Look."
Text floated in front of my vision, translucent but perfectly readable. Top left corner displayed: Lobby Instance 21.
The label hung there like something from a video game HUD, impossible to ignore but not blocking my view. I focused on it briefly and additional information appeared. Current occupancy: 14 users. Maximum capacity: 100.
"According to the notification, this is the lobby," someone said. "There's supposed to be options."
I'd already found them. Center of my vision showed four choices arranged vertically: Friends, Host, Map, Forums, Arena.
Host pulsed slightly when I focused on it, and a new menu expanded. Three locations appeared: Private Lobby, Mason Family Mansion, and Heavenly Forge Emporium.
"The spaces I've rented and an entirely virtual lobby I can use privately."
Of course, none of this was a surprise to me. I'd played a part in the design for all of this, after all. I selected Host and chose Heavenly Forge Emporium from the list.
The white void dissolved. I stood in my shop, surrounded by polished obsidian walls and shelves stocked with alchemical products. Every detail matched perfectly. The bronze plaques by the door, the arrangement of pill bottles on the left wall, the weapon racks displaying swords and daggers on the right. I walked to the nearest shelf and counted. Seventy-two Foundation Building Pills, exactly what remained in my real inventory.
The cauldron I'd crafted sat on the workbench in the back, its inscriptions glowing faintly with residual heat. I reached out and touched the metal surface. Warm. The sensory feedback was flawless.
Of course, since both the real place and the virtual place actually resided inside the world bead, this wasn't too surprising for me. The Heavenly Dao simply replicated what already existed within its domain. But for other people? This would seem like magic even by cultivation standards.
I returned to the lobby with a thought. The white void reassembled around me, and I noticed the occupancy counter had climbed to forty-seven users. More people were figuring out the system every minute.
The Map option pulled my attention next.
American City spread before me in three dimensions, a topographical representation that showed every building, every street, the central monument plaza with its portal pillars. I could rotate the view with my mind, zoom in to street level or pull back to see the entire hundred-mile diameter. The level of detail was staggering. Individual shops had labels that appeared when I focused on them.
A thought shifted the view to Russian City. Then Chinese City. Brazilian City. All identical in layout but with different terrain surrounding them. The system responded instantly to my mental commands, switching between locations without lag.
I tested the search function. "Swords."
Red markers appeared across American City, highlighting shops that sold bladed weapons. Dozens of them. The merit point economy had spawned a surprising number of merchants already.
"Established sects."
The map filtered again. Blue markers clustered in the outer rings of the city. Crimson Phoenix Sect occupied three adjacent buildings in the northeast quadrant. Azure Sky Sect had claimed a large central structure closer to the monument plaza. Half a dozen smaller organizations appeared scattered throughout.
I nodded. It behaved exactly as I'd envisioned it.
Forums came next. Categories filled my vision in an organized hierarchy. General Discussion, Cultivation Techniques, Combat Training, Trade Skills. The last one expanded into subcategories: Alchemy, Artifact Refinement, Formations, Inscriptions, Herbalism.
I selected Crafting: Inscriptions.
The forum was empty, of course. Not a single post existed yet. I focused on the option to create a new thread and text entry appeared in my mind, responding to thought as easily as typing.
"Hosting a tutorial in one week where I will be teaching Inscription knowledge. I will provide everyone with virtual crystals and tools. Anyone interested, subscribe to notifications on this forum post and you'll be notified when I send the lobby invite to my virtual space when the teaching begins. My first lesson is free. I recommend the purchase of the low quality spiritual Inscriptions manual from the All Paths Library before attending."
I switched my virtual identity to the Eastern Region God and pinned the post to the top of the forums, ensuring maximum visibility across all six cities. Within seconds, a notification counter appeared beside it. Three subscriptions. Then seven. Then fifteen.
I selected Arena from the menu.
The white void collapsed into something far more complex. I stood in what looked like a massive coliseum, except the architecture defied physics in ways that made my eyes hurt if I looked too closely. Tiered seating rose in impossible spirals, platforms floated at different heights without support, and the central combat floor was surrounded by shimmering barriers that pulsed with contained energy.
But that was just the default view. The real system revealed itself when I focused on the options floating before me.
Challenge Types appeared first: One vs One, Two vs Two, Team vs Team, Free For All. Each expanded into subcategories. Ranked matches, casual sparring, tournament brackets. The matchmaking system could pair people based on cultivation realm, combat experience, elemental affinity, or any combination of factors.
Arena Environments followed. Standard flat platform was just the beginning. Forest biome showed dense trees and undergrowth spreading across customizable distances. Mountain terrain offered cliffs, caves, and treacherous footing. Ocean combat took place on floating platforms above churning water. Desert, tundra, volcanic wasteland, every environment I could imagine existed as a selectable option.
Custom arena size ranged from a simple twenty-foot circle to sprawling battlefields that stretched for miles.
The opponent selection made me pause. Real cultivators were the obvious choice, but the system also offered artificial opponents. Spiritual beasts at various cultivation realms, generated by the Heavenly Dao based on actual creatures that existed in the world bead. Body Tempering layer three Iron-Backed Boar. Meridian Opening layer five Thunder Wolf. Core Formation layer eight Azure Dragon.
People could practice against realistic threats without risking their lives.
But the spectator system was what really impressed me. I navigated to the viewing options and found a list of active arena battles. Only three were running right now, this early after the system's launch. I selected one at random.
The coliseum vanished. I stood at ground level in a forest arena, watching two cultivators clash with wooden practice swords. Both were Body Tempering realm, probably layer three or four based on their speed and strength. They moved through the trees, using trunks for cover and leaping between branches.
I walked closer. Right through the combat zone. Neither fighter reacted because I didn't exist in their space. I was completely invisible, a ghost observer watching their match unfold. I could circle around them, view the fight from any angle, even position myself directly between their blades to see the exact moment of impact.
The recording system captured everything in full three-dimensional detail. Every movement, every technique, every expression on their faces. People could review their matches afterward, study their mistakes, analyze their opponents' patterns.
I returned to the main arena lobby with a thought.
This was going to revolutionize combat training in the Eastern Region. No more risking serious injury just to practice against another cultivator. No more difficulty finding sparring partners at your exact cultivation level. The system handled everything, matched people appropriately, provided safe environments to test techniques without consequences.
And as the world bead evolved, the power ceiling would rise. Eventually immortals could use this space to battle at full strength.
I smiled. The virtual space had turned out even better than I'd hoped. Between the forums, the map, the arena, and the private hosting options, people had tools that matched or exceeded what the cultivation world's best virtual networks offered. All managed by the Heavenly Dao, all accessible through their identity tokens.
The notification counter on my alchemy forum post had climbed to over two hundred subscriptions.
I pulled myself back to physical reality. My body remained exactly as I'd left it, cross-legged on the meditation cushion in my Core Palace room. The transition felt seamless, like waking from a vivid dream where I'd never really been asleep.
Two hundred people wanted Inscription lessons. I hoped at least a few of them should show some real aptitude.
I pulled my furnace from the storage ring along with chunks of Thermal Copper, Quicksilver Iron, and Condensation Jade. The materials arranged themselves on the workbench before me, their surfaces catching the light from the Core Palace windows.
The copper glowed orange-gold as I heated it, veins of lightning frozen in metal. I decided to craft low-quality spiritual cauldrons and furnaces to sell in my shop. They would come in handy later when I started giving Artifact Refinement and Alchemy lessons. My flames rose beneath the first piece, beginning the familiar process of melting and shaping.