The spatial ring had become an afterthought - first when its secrets resisted him, then when the whirlwind of events left no room for mysteries.
But now, things were different.
Not only could Theon control his Lu, he could control his spiritual Lu.
With cautious anticipation, he directed a thin stream of spiritual Lu into the ring, careful to keep it untainted by the volatile lightning Lu coursing through his meridians. A single mistake could destabilize the ring's delicate structure, ruining whatever treasures lay inside—or worse, triggering some hidden defense.
The moment his Lu touched the black band, the air around him hummed softly. The ring shimmered, its surface rippling like disturbed water before settling into an eerie stillness.
Then—light.
A holographic display unfolded before him, revealing the [Spatial Ring Interface]. Arrays and symbols materialized in the air, forming an intricate grid. Each compartment represented a different place within the pocket dimension, a realm folded into the confines of the small artifact.
The way a spatial ring displayed its contents varied. Some manifested as lists, others as abstract impressions, and a rare few forced the user to physically step inside. This one, however, favored order—a meticulously structured grid, each slot pulsing with latent energy.
And what lay inside stole Theon's breath.
First were the plants.
Three Second Planar specimens rested within, their auras thick with power. Cross-referencing the database, Theon identified them: an Ephemeral Wispsprout, a Second Planar Chrono Lotus, and a Galvanic Emberroot.
The Ephemeral Wispsprout sprouted only when a specific and rare alignment of Lu's occurred. When plucked, it released wisps of Lu. These wisps, when captured and infused into potions, were prized by alchemists for their ability to enhance the potency and duration of potions.
Chrono Lotus was an ethereal flower that existed simultaneously in the past, present, and future, it could grow all the way to the 8th plane. Alchemists could harvest its petals to create potions that manipulate time in small increments.
Then there was the Galvanic Emberroots, a rugged plant that grew near geothermal vents in the 2nd plane, absorbing both thermal and electrical energies. Alchemists could extract its essence to create potions that provided temporary resistance to extreme temperatures, an ability to generate small electric discharges and sudden bursts of power.
Alongside them lay an assortment of First Planar herbs—valuable in their own right and usually used as supplemental herbs, but paling in comparison to the rarities they were accompanied by.
Next were the pills.
Dozens of Lu pills rested in neat rows, each a condensed orb of refined Lu. Lu pills were created by combining rare herbs, mystical materials, and concentrated Lu. The exact function and potency of a Lu pill depended on its ingredients, the skill of the alchemist, and the specific intent behind its creation. They could range from breakthrough to enhancement to recovery pills to much much more.
Finally, the crystals.
Most were aligned with fire and lightning, Serenera's dominant elements. Their stored energy pulsed like miniature stars, waiting to be harnessed.
After examining the trove of treasures, Theon conducted a simple test—plucking a pebble from the ground and willing it into the spatial ring. One heartbeat it existed in his palm; the next, it had vanished into the dimensional fold. A flick of thought, and it materialized again, obedient to his command.
'I've got the basics down,' he noted, rubbing his throbbing temples. 'But even this much strains my mind. Two transfers, and I need to rest.'
A deeper unease settled over him as he contemplated the ring's mechanics. Cultivation wasn't too groundbreaking, taking in a new form of energy and dispersing wasn't too far fetched—it was similar enough to oxygen in a sense—but this? Space itself bent to the ring's will, violating every standard of common sense he thought he knew.
Shaking off the thought, he turned to a more pressing mystery: Why two inheritances? Why so many contradictions?
His fingers moved instinctively, inputting keywords into the database's search function. The system processed his query for a suspended moment before flashing a result that turned his blood to ice:
[Operation Strawdoll]
The holographic text unfurled like a death warrant:
[[Operation Strawdoll] is the network of counterfeit legacies that have been laid across the palace in an attempt to divert intruders from the bunker.]
[Satisfactory treasures have been placed in the inheritances to appear legitimate.]
[Operation was later enhanced and further edited to include three-tiered mental-influencing soul formations: First layer will superficially direct travelers away from the fake legacies while actually manipulating them into finding them, creating the illusion of independent choice. Second layer will make them more risk-prone and arrogant to increase their chance of death and to decrease their chance of finding the bunker, increasing their greed for treasure. Third layer will subconsciously direct them away from the bunker and cause confusion.]
Theon's hands trembled. A drop of cold sweat traced his spine.
Something like this was possible ?
Centuries-old mechanisms had puppeteered him with terrifying precision. No—not perfectly. The third layer had failed. But the others…
The throne room. That instinctive wrongness he'd dismissed—engineered. His leap onto the dais anyway—predicted.
The fuse box. That reckless, half-formed decision to sever the wires—calculated. He should have died.
But he had gotten lucky and survived.
Another bead of sweat joined the first.
'Unless…'
A more horrifying thought crystallized.
What if the third layer's "failure" was intentional?
What if this very revelation—this record of Operation Strawdoll—was another meticulously placed straw doll, designed to make him think he'd outsmarted the system?