Chapter 58: Conquest of Subdomains
Release Schedule: 2 chapters will be released daily.
Chapter 58: Conquest of Subdomains
“Wasn’t it agreed to be two hundred copper coins?”
Justin’s expression darkened the moment he took the money pouch.
Though he had only been a mercenary for two months, he had already learned to estimate the number of copper coins by weight.
“Two hundred copper coins? How dare you even mention it? Falling asleep on night watch—I’m being merciful just by not deducting all your pay! Get out, scram!”
The deputy leader berated him with a fierce glare.
Justin’s face flushed crimson. Under the mocking gazes gathered at the mercenary branch’s entrance, he wished he could vanish into the ground.
In the end, he didn’t dare argue back. Gritting his teeth, he turned and left.
Fuming inwardly, he swore to file a complaint against them online later.
But deep down, he knew such a complaint would be meaningless.
When the Empire’s official website first introduced the complaint function, its effectiveness had been astonishing.
Long-standing corruption and hidden maladies within the Empire were exposed overnight. The God of Magic was enraged, heads rolled, and the public cheered as societal morals were cleansed.
But gradually, as many learned to weaponize complaints against rivals, the system lost credibility.
At the very least, the Empire’s higher-ups had learned to investigate before punishing.
For trivial matters, the Empire couldn’t be bothered—there simply weren’t enough resources to handle them all.
Moreover, as people adapted to the new rules, fresh connections, exchanges of interest, and even unspoken rules began to form.
Some complaints were now completely ignored.
Did that mean the internet’s direct line to the highest authorities was useless?
No, it wasn’t. Because no one knew when the higher-ups might conduct a random check, many still dared not go too far.
Take this incident, for example. A month ago, these bloodsucking mercenaries would’ve deducted his entire pay. Now? They only took a few dozen copper coins.
All in all, the internet had still improved the Empire’s overall environment. Otherwise, Justin’s situation would’ve been far worse.
Clutching the copper coins he’d earned after three days of hard work, Justin found a cheap inn in the slums that included meals.
That night, lying on a back-breaking wooden bed, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
He wasn’t just angry about losing those few dozen copper coins—he was even more disheartened and bitter about his circumstances.
Who would believe now that he was once the young master of a magic family?
No one.
Ever since he found the Internet Mithril Ring, the idea of leaving his family had taken root in his mind. After confirming the value of internet Points and enduring his father’s indifference, he’d stormed out in a rage.
The first half-month had been blissful.
No more scornful looks,
no more veiled insults calling him useless.
Every day brought new sights, customs so different from his family’s territory that he was utterly enchanted.
But as his money ran out, the harshness of society began to show.
He realized all his freedom had been built on wealth.
Without money, he couldn’t take a single step.
Back home, at least he never had to worry about food or shelter—he’d even received some magic cultivation resources.
Out here? Even basic survival was a struggle.
The quality of his lodings kept dropping, his meals grew worse, until finally, he’d sunk into the mud.
With his amateurish magic skills, he could have actually secured a decent position in a mercenary group.
Fire magic ensured the mercenaries could heat their food in any environment;
Water magic guaranteed safe drinking water—absolutely vital for mercenaries;
Light magic provided illumination... and so on.
These spells, considered utterly basic and low-level by mages, were incredibly practical for everyday folk.
Yet, the unfortunate truth was that by the time he realized he needed to work to earn money, the internet had already spread like wildfire across the Empire due to a single decree.
The number of self-taught mages skyrocketed!
Mages were no longer valuable.
No—to be precise, mages like him, who couldn’t even pass the entrance exams for the Magic Academy, were worthless.
To survive, he finally swallowed his pride and embarked on a grueling struggle for existence.
During this time, he endured countless sneers, mockery, spit, bullying, and theft...
Honestly, there were moments when he wanted to crawl back to his family.
But he endured it in the end—he couldn’t bear the shame, even though he had no dignity left.
At first, he gritted his teeth and tried other cultivation systems, like Battle Aura.
But eventually, he gave up.
After a day of exhausting labor, his body aching to the bone, he simply lacked the willpower to learn anything new.
All he wanted was to lie still, scroll through the Forum, and occasionally drop some noble-exclusive knowledge to fish for admiration and envy.
Ironically, his personal account had over a thousand followers!
If those people knew they were following a broke nobody scraping by on odd jobs, what kind of expressions would they make?
Hah!
Justin laughed at himself, his face under the night sky filled with bitterness and despair.
Truth be told, he resented the internet a little.
If it hadn’t existed, he might never have considered leaving his family.
Even if he couldn’t become a distinguished mage, he could have at least settled for being a steward, collecting rent and throwing his weight around.
But the internet had given him false hope, broadened his horizons, ignited his ambition—and ultimately dragged him into the abyss.
Admit it, you’re just trash. Utterly worthless trash!
If you couldn’t even outmaneuver your own family, what hope did you have against the wider world?
Under the night sky, frustration and despair slowly consumed Justin’s heart.
After a long silence, his spirit utterly broken, he activated his Internet Mithril Ring.
And then—he froze.
Right there, on the homepage of the internet, was a new icon.
A symbol of a Magic Wand and a sword crossed over each other—Conquest of Subdomains!
Instinctively, Justin clicked the icon. The page abruptly darkened, and a line of ghastly white text appeared one by one on the black background of a Virtual Scroll.
"Brave adventurer, the beautiful Dofi domain is under invasion by cruel and evil beastmen. Will you take control of an elemental puppet and fight for Dofi domain?"
[Note: Clicking 'Confirm' will synchronize your six senses with the elemental puppet. If the puppet dies, aside from psychological discomfort, you will suffer no harm—including to your soul.]
[Warning: Once you click confirm, your real body will share the life force and mana of the elemental puppet. If the elemental puppet dies, all shared attributes will vanish. You can earn merit points through combat to strengthen the elemental puppet. Cherish your first elemental puppet—if it perishes, a significant amount of merit points will be required to obtain another.]
Justin's pupils dilated.
He read the text over and over, his mind roiling like a stormy sea!
Sharing the life force and mana of an elemental puppet?
This… this was nothing short of a miracle!
No—hadn’t the advent of the internet itself been a miracle? So what was so strange about witnessing another?
Justin didn’t click the confirmation button immediately. Battered by life’s hardships, he hesitated, then exited the screen and entered the magic forum.
As expected, the forum was in an uproar!
A single glance revealed that the entire first page was filled with discussions about the Conquest of Subdomains!
"Does anyone know about the [Conquest of Subdomains]? What’s the deal with it?"
"There’s fine print below the confirmation button—that’s the Contract Document. Clicking confirm means signing the contract! Be careful, don’t just rush into it."
"Professional analysis here—the Contract Document is legit. It’s a Six-Senses Sharing Contract + Mana-Sharing Contract + Life-Sharing Contract. The death of an elemental puppet won’t affect your real body."
"Firsthand experience! The Conquest of Subdomains is beyond incredible—long live the Internet God!"
"Hahaha, I finally understand what mana is!"
The more Justin read, the more excited he became, until he abruptly sat up from his hard cot.
As someone who had received systematic magical education from his family, he understood better than anyone what it meant to contract an elemental puppet.
Without another thought, he reopened [Conquest of Subdomains], ignored the fine print beneath the confirmation button, and clicked confirm.
Instantly, his vision darkened—and the world fell silent.
“Wasn’t it agreed to be two hundred copper coins?”
Justin’s expression darkened the moment he took the money pouch.
Though he had only been a mercenary for two months, he had already learned to estimate the number of copper coins by weight.
“Two hundred copper coins? How dare you even mention it? Falling asleep on night watch—I’m being merciful just by not deducting all your pay! Get out, scram!”
The deputy leader berated him with a fierce glare.
Justin’s face flushed crimson. Under the mocking gazes gathered at the mercenary branch’s entrance, he wished he could vanish into the ground.
In the end, he didn’t dare argue back. Gritting his teeth, he turned and left.
Fuming inwardly, he swore to file a complaint against them online later.
But deep down, he knew such a complaint would be meaningless.
When the Empire’s official website first introduced the complaint function, its effectiveness had been astonishing.
Long-standing corruption and hidden maladies within the Empire were exposed overnight. The God of Magic was enraged, heads rolled, and the public cheered as societal morals were cleansed.
But gradually, as many learned to weaponize complaints against rivals, the system lost credibility.
At the very least, the Empire’s higher-ups had learned to investigate before punishing.
For trivial matters, the Empire couldn’t be bothered—there simply weren’t enough resources to handle them all.
Moreover, as people adapted to the new rules, fresh connections, exchanges of interest, and even unspoken rules began to form.
Some complaints were now completely ignored.
Did that mean the internet’s direct line to the highest authorities was useless?
No, it wasn’t. Because no one knew when the higher-ups might conduct a random check, many still dared not go too far.
Take this incident, for example. A month ago, these bloodsucking mercenaries would’ve deducted his entire pay. Now? They only took a few dozen copper coins.
All in all, the internet had still improved the Empire’s overall environment. Otherwise, Justin’s situation would’ve been far worse.
Clutching the copper coins he’d earned after three days of hard work, Justin found a cheap inn in the slums that included meals.
That night, lying on a back-breaking wooden bed, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
He wasn’t just angry about losing those few dozen copper coins—he was even more disheartened and bitter about his circumstances.
Who would believe now that he was once the young master of a magic family?
No one.
Ever since he found the Internet Mithril Ring, the idea of leaving his family had taken root in his mind. After confirming the value of internet Points and enduring his father’s indifference, he’d stormed out in a rage.
The first half-month had been blissful.
No more scornful looks,
no more veiled insults calling him useless.
Every day brought new sights, customs so different from his family’s territory that he was utterly enchanted.
But as his money ran out, the harshness of society began to show.
He realized all his freedom had been built on wealth.
Without money, he couldn’t take a single step.
Back home, at least he never had to worry about food or shelter—he’d even received some magic cultivation resources.
Out here? Even basic survival was a struggle.
The quality of his lodings kept dropping, his meals grew worse, until finally, he’d sunk into the mud.
With his amateurish magic skills, he could have actually secured a decent position in a mercenary group.
Fire magic ensured the mercenaries could heat their food in any environment;
Water magic guaranteed safe drinking water—absolutely vital for mercenaries;
Light magic provided illumination... and so on.
These spells, considered utterly basic and low-level by mages, were incredibly practical for everyday folk.
Yet, the unfortunate truth was that by the time he realized he needed to work to earn money, the internet had already spread like wildfire across the Empire due to a single decree.
The number of self-taught mages skyrocketed!
Mages were no longer valuable.
No—to be precise, mages like him, who couldn’t even pass the entrance exams for the Magic Academy, were worthless.
To survive, he finally swallowed his pride and embarked on a grueling struggle for existence.
During this time, he endured countless sneers, mockery, spit, bullying, and theft...
Honestly, there were moments when he wanted to crawl back to his family.
But he endured it in the end—he couldn’t bear the shame, even though he had no dignity left.
At first, he gritted his teeth and tried other cultivation systems, like Battle Aura.
But eventually, he gave up.
After a day of exhausting labor, his body aching to the bone, he simply lacked the willpower to learn anything new.
All he wanted was to lie still, scroll through the Forum, and occasionally drop some noble-exclusive knowledge to fish for admiration and envy.
Ironically, his personal account had over a thousand followers!
If those people knew they were following a broke nobody scraping by on odd jobs, what kind of expressions would they make?
Hah!
Justin laughed at himself, his face under the night sky filled with bitterness and despair.
Truth be told, he resented the internet a little.
If it hadn’t existed, he might never have considered leaving his family.
Even if he couldn’t become a distinguished mage, he could have at least settled for being a steward, collecting rent and throwing his weight around.
But the internet had given him false hope, broadened his horizons, ignited his ambition—and ultimately dragged him into the abyss.
Admit it, you’re just trash. Utterly worthless trash!
If you couldn’t even outmaneuver your own family, what hope did you have against the wider world?
Under the night sky, frustration and despair slowly consumed Justin’s heart.
After a long silence, his spirit utterly broken, he activated his Internet Mithril Ring.
And then—he froze.
Right there, on the homepage of the internet, was a new icon.
A symbol of a Magic Wand and a sword crossed over each other—Conquest of Subdomains!
Instinctively, Justin clicked the icon. The page abruptly darkened, and a line of ghastly white text appeared one by one on the black background of a Virtual Scroll.
"Brave adventurer, the beautiful Dofi domain is under invasion by cruel and evil beastmen. Will you take control of an elemental puppet and fight for Dofi domain?"
[Note: Clicking 'Confirm' will synchronize your six senses with the elemental puppet. If the puppet dies, aside from psychological discomfort, you will suffer no harm—including to your soul.]
[Warning: Once you click confirm, your real body will share the life force and mana of the elemental puppet. If the elemental puppet dies, all shared attributes will vanish. You can earn merit points through combat to strengthen the elemental puppet. Cherish your first elemental puppet—if it perishes, a significant amount of merit points will be required to obtain another.]
Justin's pupils dilated.
He read the text over and over, his mind roiling like a stormy sea!
Sharing the life force and mana of an elemental puppet?
This… this was nothing short of a miracle!
No—hadn’t the advent of the internet itself been a miracle? So what was so strange about witnessing another?
Justin didn’t click the confirmation button immediately. Battered by life’s hardships, he hesitated, then exited the screen and entered the magic forum.
As expected, the forum was in an uproar!
A single glance revealed that the entire first page was filled with discussions about the Conquest of Subdomains!
"Does anyone know about the [Conquest of Subdomains]? What’s the deal with it?"
"There’s fine print below the confirmation button—that’s the Contract Document. Clicking confirm means signing the contract! Be careful, don’t just rush into it."
"Professional analysis here—the Contract Document is legit. It’s a Six-Senses Sharing Contract + Mana-Sharing Contract + Life-Sharing Contract. The death of an elemental puppet won’t affect your real body."
"Firsthand experience! The Conquest of Subdomains is beyond incredible—long live the Internet God!"
"Hahaha, I finally understand what mana is!"
The more Justin read, the more excited he became, until he abruptly sat up from his hard cot.
As someone who had received systematic magical education from his family, he understood better than anyone what it meant to contract an elemental puppet.
Without another thought, he reopened [Conquest of Subdomains], ignored the fine print beneath the confirmation button, and clicked confirm.
Instantly, his vision darkened—and the world fell silent.
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