Unknown location…
A ship was slowly drifting through the dark chaotic space, controlled by a middle-aged man when it suddenly felt a disturbance. Its radar had picked up an unknown signal which could either be a fortune or curse, one couldn't tell.
This domain was eerily quiet yet brimming with unseen dangers.
The middle-aged man adjusted his course, moving closer to the source. Before him lay a planet, small and unassuming. This was no surprise though; he had passed countless planets in his lifetime, even owned several himself. Small planets were common, and he had long since learned to manage any surprise.
But this one was different.
He blinked hard, steadying his vision, wary of desperation's tricks. Yet what he saw was no illusion. The planet glowed faintly, radiating a pale brown light, as though it were in its embryonic stages. It pulsed with a rhythm unlike anything he had encountered before.
His eyes almost fell off their sockets!
An embryonic world! He marveled.
Embryonic planets were easier to control when discovered, because their World consciousness was still weak, inexperienced, and unaware of its own greatness.
These embryonic planets could be instructed, misled, and bound with promises of benefits they didn't yet understand—benefits they could have procured themselves without much effort. To him, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a fateful encounter that would never come again.
The middle-aged man's grin widened before he alighted his ship, coming closer.
Standing ten meters away, he performed the procedure to establish communication with the World consciousness. Once the connection was made and terms agreed upon, he would seal the deal with the power of a contract. That contract would make him the true owner of the planet. Everything within it would fall under his grasp, and his cultivation would soar at lightning speed.
The thrill in the middle-aged man's chest quickly turned to shock. His soul thread had stretched outward, tapped lightly against the planet's natural barrier, and pierced it—yet it refused to pass through.
He tried again, and again, but to no avail. Alarmed, he retracted his soul thread. This could only mean one of two things; either the planet had already been taken over, or the World consciousness was skilled enough to block off any disturbance.
But for the latter to be true, the planet would have to be a grade 4 world.
Worlds are ranked according to how many evolutions they had undergone. Those below grade 4 remained protected by their natural barrier, shielding them from external interference. But once a world reached grade 4 and beyond, that natural barrier lost its effect. At that point, cultivators could erect artificial barriers to prevent invasion.
Not all worlds could be owned. As long as the World consciousness remained unconquered, cultivators could only dwell within them, never claiming them. Ownership would require deception or force. Powerful cultivators could force the World consciousness into contract.
Beyond those embryonic stages, however, the challenge grew immense. Grade 4 and above worlds weren't easily captured. Some rare cases existed where a consciousness willingly submitted, but only after subjecting the would-be conqueror to tests of worthiness.
And even then, it wasn't simple. To conquer a world, the cultivator had to be its inhabitant. Outsiders couldn't bind themselves to a world's soul.
Grade 4 and above worlds could be entered by anyone, if they didn't have artificial barrier, or the barrier placed wasn't strong enough.
The world's consciousness was connected to the world's core, and so it could monitor the world wholly except for some places with exceptional impediments.
It was also restricted.
Contracting inhabitants from other planets would be cumbersome since they didn't know them entirely, but they knew almost all details of their own inhabitants.
The middle-aged man's confidence seemed to have grown as he approached the planet's barrier and pressed his fingers against it.
This was no natural barrier.
A world's natural barrier had a different vibe.
His eyes narrowed as realization struck; someone had already placed an artificial barrier around the planet. That meant the world wasn't free for the taking. It had been claimed and was being protected or at least guarded by another cultivator.
Naturally, most cultivators do not raise barriers over embryonic worlds. It wasn't that they lacked the method, but the maintenance cost was exorbitant, far beyond what most could afford. Embryonic planets typically housed cultivators of lower realms, whose knowledge was not advanced to know the worth of their planet.
Only those who truly understood the worth of these planets would raise artificial barriers over the natural ones, masking their profoundness. To outsiders passing through chaotic space, such planets appeared ordinary. Even if they saw them, they wouldn't be interested—the artificial barrier made them seem like any other graded-4 and above world.
There were countless planets scattered across the void, most of them undeveloped. Unless something unusual caught their attention, cultivators wouldn't involve themselves. This was the brilliance of the strategy employed; concealment through mundanity.
The middle-aged man realized the significance of what he had found. This planet wasn't simply protected—it was hidden in plain sight. Someone had invested heavily to mask its true nature, ensuring that only the most perceptive, would uncover its secret.
The middle-aged man steadied himself, moving a hundred meters away from the planet's barrier. He readied for an attack, unwilling to leave until he was certain he wasn't enough. An embryonic planet couldn't be forfeited so easily.
He had already sensed its profoundness. The pale brown light radiating from the planet betrayed its true nature—an embryonic world. Even the artificial barrier couldn't conceal it completely. This was a gem, hidden so well that almost no one would stumble upon it.
His plan was clear; break the artificial barrier, then the natural one. Only then could he reach the World consciousness. He couldn't determine the grade of the artificial barrier by sight alone, so an attack was the best way to know.
If the cultivator who had set up the barrier was weak, he could force them into abandoning the contract. And if necessary, he would kill them to keep such secrets. No cultivator, regardless of realm, would willingly forfeit an embryonic world. The discovery of such a planet would spark storms—large-scale wars among sects and organizations.
Not only its enticing aspects and self-replenishment rewards, but they could also learn the world's structure and get familiar with laws which could be incorporated, making their Core worlds stronger.
The middle-aged man suddenly attacked with his overwhelming energy.
His attack had been precise, condensed with energy and imbued with multiple laws. The crimson spear pierced forward with a stabbing gesture, colliding with the barrier in a horrifying burst of pressure.
The waves of energy spread outward as his robes fluttered wildly, followed by an almost inaudible 'Bang'. The barrier swallowed the force whole, leaving only the spear trembling in space. Its crimson glow darkened instantly, turning into a shadow of itself.
The middle-aged man's breath became hard.
When someone attacked a planet protected by a natural barrier and failed, retaliation was inevitable. The planet would strike back, but this planet was using the weapon of the perpetrator as its medium.
The barrier itself wasn't natural but artificial. And yet, retaliation had come. That meant the artificial barrier was deeply intertwined with the World consciousness itself. Whoever had set it up had bound the barrier to the planet's core, making it act as though it were natural.
The spear hovered in space, shivering violently, now a medium for the planet's counterattack. The spear's glow became darker and darker until it reached a threshold, then it was propelled back toward its wielder.
The middle-aged man's gaze grew solemn.
Now it was clear—the planet was indeed in its embryonic stage, because of the way it responded, since he had only attacked the artificial barrier, not the natural one.
Running was useless. With the speed of the spear, it would eventually catch up to him. He steadied himself, spreading his hands, preparing to meet the backlash head-on. The energy released by the spear was within his limits, but its force was still foreboding.
Storming his feet against the void, he propelled himself forward to meet the incoming weapon. Since the spear originally belonged to him, he used his restricted control to slow it down, though the speed remained unnerving.
He thrust out his hand, launching a punch, while simultaneously erecting a barrier in front of him. The spear would have to pierce through that defense before reaching him.
Swoosh...
The spear tore through the barrier as though it wasn't even there, shocking the middle-aged man. Yet he remained vigilant, pressing his punch forward, smashing against the spear's tip after concentrating his energy.
The fact that the spear pierced the barrier so effortlessly surely raised a chilling question—how strong was his punch truly? He layered more energy, fierce laws bursting out as he met the weapon head-on.
The collision sent him toddling backward, his entire body turned numb. His composure faltered as his energy dwindled sharply. That single retaliation had drained nearly 80 percent of his reserves. For a moment, he staggered, nearly collapsing, before recovering enough to stand.
He knew he could have avoided the spear, but doing so would have meant losing his weapon forever. And this weapon was no ordinary tool—it was of an incredible grade, not easily acquired.
The middle-aged man wiped the blood from his hand, his gaze heavy and filled with dread as he stared at the planet's barrier. In his mind, the soul's imagery replayed—the spear's retaliation had nearly cost him his hand. If its energy had been just a little stronger, his arm would have been nonexistent.
At second thought, he realized he couldn't break such a barrier. The pale brown glow confirmed the planet was in its embryonic stage, but the artificial barrier was far beyond his current strength.
Still, he wasn't without options. He belonged to a powerful sect, and reporting this discovery would earn him great merit. Just because he couldn't break it didn't mean others couldn't.
Without hesitation, he returned to his ship. He knew attacking a second time would mean his end. But next time, it wouldn't be him alone—it would be him and his sect, en masse.