The transport vessel scanned the asteroid core.
In a neutral, emotionless voice, it reported:
"Gold–Earth hybrid energy solid. 350 kilograms. Energy retention rate: 41%. Composite evaluation: B-grade, Tier One."
The voice belonged to the ship spirit—a construct similar to an artifact spirit, possessing limited intelligence. Mo Xuan's vessel was only the lowest-tier model, so its spirit could perform only basic operations. The spirit cores of true star battleships were far more impressive—capable of manifesting holographic forms, playful and lively.
Mo Xuan beamed at the massive core.
Excellent. This asteroid belt seemed relatively fresh. The yield might exceed even his optimistic estimates.
Several of the eighteen whip-like appendages swiftly inserted the refined core into the vessel's rear intake. The 350-kilogram mass vanished with surprising ease, as if casually tucked away.
At the same time, a complex circular formation ten meters ahead of him lit up. The asteroid core rose slowly from the formation like a balloon surfacing from water.
With a flick of his finger, the heavy core obediently floated midair, rotating in a full circle.
Mo Xuan examined it with satisfaction. Roughly the shape of a large goose egg, slightly uneven on the surface—not particularly beautiful.
But this—
This was his first fortune in this world.
He retrieved a translucent prism-like crystal from his storage pouch and aimed it at the core. A flash of white light flickered.
Photo taken.
The device was called a Recording Crystal, a gift from Teacher Kong. It captured image and sound, capable of recording, playback, even holographic projection.
Smiling, Mo Xuan tapped again.
The small hundred-square-meter interior space abruptly expanded into a massive storage chamber spanning tens of thousands of square meters. Countless compartments of varying sizes divided the space neatly. Mo Xuan stood within one of the central chambers.
He sighed inwardly.
Lowest-tier vessel. This was the maximum storage compression. Not impressive.
He guided the core into an appropriately sized compartment, letting it float neatly in the center.
Done.
He continued mining without discrimination, harvesting asteroid after asteroid in order.
"Fire–Earth hybrid energy solid. 32 kilograms. Energy retention rate: 10%. Composite evaluation: D-grade, Tier Two."
Mo Xuan clicked his tongue. Small and mediocre—but still not worth discarding. He stored it in a corner compartment.
"Gold–Earth hybrid. 88 kilograms. 40%. B-grade, Tier Two."
Not bad.
"Gold–Earth hybrid. 124 kilograms. 25%. C-grade, Tier One."
Average.
"Fire–Earth hybrid. 347 kilograms. 31%. B-grade, Tier Three."
Acceptable.
"Gold–Earth–Wood hybrid. 78 kilograms. 25%. C-grade, Tier Three."
Mediocre.
…
Then—
"Wood–Water hybrid energy crystal. 120 kilograms. Energy retention rate: 56%. Composite evaluation: A-grade, Tier One."
Mo Xuan burst out laughing.
Treasure!
Just this single crystal was worth half a year of labor.
Clear and brilliant like an enormous diamond, it shimmered with inner radiance. He quickly recorded it and stored it in a nearby compartment.
Asteroid attributes generally followed the Five Elements: Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth. Pure single attributes were extremely rare; hybrids were the norm. Occasionally there were exotic types—Wind, Light, Darkness, magnetic, levitation—after all, the universe was vast beyond imagination.
Energy grades were ranked: Heaven, Earth, A, B, C, D. Each divided into three tiers. Heaven Tier One was supreme.
In this impoverished spacetime, even an A-grade crystal was considered exceptional. Water-aspect crystals were especially precious.
He continued.
Soon after, he found another A-grade Tier One—Metal–Water hybrid.
His spirits soared.
Though only a Half-Immortal, Mo Xuan possessed the endurance of immortals. He worked twelve hours without pause, day after day. Only after eighty hours of nonstop labor did fatigue finally touch him.
He exhaled and sat upon the meditation cushion.
From his pouch, he retrieved a small white porcelain bottle and poured out a mustard-seed-sized yellow pellet.
Not a spirit pill.
Just a simple sustenance pill. One would suppress hunger for half a month.
He swallowed it, drank water, and gazed at the storage chamber—already nearly one-quarter filled.
As you sow, so shall you reap.
He meditated briefly, restored his mind, and resumed mining.
The deeper he tunneled toward the asteroid belt's center, the richer the yield became.
A-grade Tier Two.A-grade Tier Three.B-grade Tier One.
He hummed an improvised tune:
"One core, two cores, three in a row,Everywhere good asteroids glow…"
In truth, most cores were dull and dark, emitting only faint light—but today he was in high spirits.
Then—
A blazing white radiance burst from the asteroid he was processing.
He froze.
Accelerating extraction, he revealed a pearl-smooth sphere—radiant like a miniature sun.
"What is this?"
He ordered a scan.
"Light–Water hybrid energy crystal. 140 kilograms. Energy retention rate: 78%. Composite evaluation: Earth-grade, Tier One."
Earth-grade.
Tier One.
A legendary Earth-grade divine mineral.
Mo Xuan stood stunned, drool practically falling.
The miniature sun illuminated the entire asteroid field.
Fifteen colossal asteroids—each over three hundred meters across—suddenly cracked open.
From within one, a fragment resembling dried bark protruded. Under the light, it pulsed faintly. Strands of coarse hair drifted in the Void.
The fifteen massive asteroids silently drifted closer.
Forming a circle.
Mo Xuan noticed nothing.
He was too busy staring at the sun-like crystal.
He wiped his mouth and quickly drew it into the vessel.
Up close, it was one and a half meters wide, smooth and luminous—not blinding, yet far from gentle.
Bathed in its glow, Mo Xuan closed his eyes in bliss.
Such rich energy…
If only he had an Immortal Garden. Absorbing this slowly would equal centuries of cultivation.
He clenched his fist.
If he sold it—how many Rejuvenation Pills could it buy? Enough to restore his parents? His grandparents?
He imagined exchanging it for dozens of longevity pills.
Before he could finish the thought—
The fifteen massive asteroids violently shuddered.
Cracks spread rapidly.
They charged.
"Warning—"
The alarm blared.
The asteroids exploded apart.
From within, fifteen grotesque Void creatures unfurled like compressed sheets snapping open. Layer upon layer, they lunged from every direction, sealing off escape.
Mo Xuan's face turned cold.
He pointed forward.
The vessel's eighteen whip-like appendages lashed out in a blur—hundreds of strikes in an instant.
The creatures' bodies were incredibly tough. The whips inflicted no serious damage. Three appendages snapped from recoil.
But the barrage tore a narrow gap in the encirclement.
A single thread of survival.
Mo Xuan remained calm. The vessel reversed sharply. Fifteen remaining whips forced the opening wider.
With brutal compression, the vessel squeezed through.
Six more whips shattered under strain.
Behind him, the creatures collided, writhing, then separated and pursued.
The severed whip fragments were devoured in seconds—leaving nothing.
Only after clearing the asteroid belt did Mo Xuan's sweat finally pour like rain.
Careless.
If not for the Academy's painfully repetitive Void-combat simulations, he would have hesitated.
A tenth of a second—and he would be dead.
He steadied his breathing.
Scanning the creatures again:
"Unknown lifeform. Elasticity: A-grade Tier Two. Energy level: B-grade Tier One. Composite evaluation: A-grade Tier Three."
His brow lifted.
He retrieved a small white marble-like stone and crushed it. It expanded into a protective white sphere enveloping him.
He floated within it and opened a blue spatial portal.
In the next instant, he emerged outside the vessel, drifting in the Void.
Immortals could survive in space—but energy consumption was extreme. This sphere minimized expenditure and provided air and moisture.
Maximum duration:
Half an hour.
This would have to end quickly.