Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Spatial Ring

Although the process was somewhat convoluted and the “corpses” were not very cooperative, fortunately, Kevin ultimately obtained two spatial rings. When he turned around to thank Little Spoon for the assistance, he found that Little Spoon had vanished without a trace. Assassins truly moved with ghostly speed, and Kevin couldn’t help but admire that. Of course, outwardly, Kevin was careful to refer to them simply as relevant authorities, never revealing their assassin titles.

Kevin’s seizure of others’ possessions was watched in full by a third party director through a crystal ball. The director’s department was well aware of the loophole in the military exercise rules, and seeing Kevin exploit it piqued their curiosity greatly. Meanwhile, a debate broke out among them: if Kevin requested the director’s department to make a ruling, what should be done?

Some agreed, others didn’t care, while Generals Oder and Fiora remained silent. After all, it was no longer possible to confiscate anything from them, and as long as it didn’t concern them, they didn’t mind whether it was more authentic or not. Fortunately, Kevin himself managed to convince the two generals, effectively solving a problem for the director’s department. In future similar incidents, they could simply follow Kevin’s method. The only hardship lay with the third-party personnel tasked with inventorying the items.

Later, the scene of the three men inspecting items in the small grove also caught the director’s department’s interest, who shifted the crystal ball’s view over to watch. Although the crystal ball transmitted only images without sound, their actions were enough to guess the situation. When Little Spoon produced three strange dolls, many present smiled quietly and glanced back to see General Oder’s expression.

General Oder, of course, looked embarrassed and could only instinctively lower his head to eat some roasted meat.

There were also some very old men present who did not understand the younger generation well and gave little thought to the three dolls. Some found it odd, remarking, “Young people nowadays are becoming harder to understand—now even boys are playing with cloth dolls?”

Laughter erupted among those present. Someone explained to the elders, “These are not ordinary cloth dolls. They are more lifelike and interesting… well, maybe General Oder can explain it himself?”

Oder waved his hand dismissively, “Ah! Too many kids nowadays; sometimes it’s really hard to keep track of them.”

“That’s no big deal,” someone nearby comforted him, “It just means the kids are growing up and it’s time to find a wife. Haha.”

“Hmph,” Oder snorted coldly, “His fighting spirit is still red; what wife does he need? Wait until his fighting spirit turns yellow.”

Everyone laughed quietly. Since it wasn’t their own business, they refrained from commenting further. The crystal ball’s view shifted back to Kevin, who was testing the spatial rings. It was obvious he was a novice, having never used such advanced equipment before. Yet even so, Kevin still attracted much interest.

“According to the data, since the start of the military exercise, on the first day he killed a wolf rider leader, then at night took down one demon and three elves. In this recent battle, he crushed five more enemies. From the start of the conflict until now, alone, he has killed ten, and even obtained two spatial rings,” Anthony recited Kevin’s current record based on the data.

“Is this your catapult captain?” someone turned to ask General Oder.

“Yes,” Oder nodded, “He came last year.”

“Missing the hall of thought,” said Brett, captain of the Flame Knights, smiling appreciatively with a double entendre.

“Not bad,” Oder replied calmly, “He used to be a bard. He’s got some talent with words; this exercise suits him well.”

“Being eloquent is certainly a skill,” Brett disagreed, “But calling him a catapult captain seems like a waste of his talents.”

“Heh, he is a half-breed of human and elf, with a complicated political background, and has traveled widely, so his thinking is somewhat unusual. He’s not really suited to be a senior officer. Giving him command of a catapult is about right,” Oder answered. “Look, he’s doing pretty well, isn’t he?”

No one said more. After all, he was only a low-ranking officer, not worth their serious attention. The crystal ball’s perspective shifted to observe other battlefields.

Meanwhile, on Kevin’s side, he was gleefully playing with the two newly acquired spatial rings—one on each hand.

Strictly speaking, spatial rings could only be possessed by noble families of count rank or above. Within the army, only officers of major rank or higher, or those specially granted permission, could carry them. A few mercenaries on special missions could rent communal spatial rings from the Mercenary Alliance, but strict screening applied, and only a handful qualified. Essentially, owning a spatial ring was a symbol of upper-class status.

Though these days, lower nobles might hide a few weapons or pieces of equipment, as long as they didn’t cause trouble, people generally didn’t fuss too much. But control over spatial rings was much stricter, backed by rigorous laws. Upper-class spatial rings could only be lent once to direct relatives with official documentation. Lending or gifting to non-relatives was forbidden. Anyone found in violation faced at least three years imprisonment.

Initially, lawmakers thought spatial rings were relatively safe since they weren’t weapons. But the reality was that many merchants used them to smuggle goods and evade taxes, and dangerous individuals could easily hide large amounts of contraband. With spatial rings, theft became far too convenient. To maintain social stability, laws were amended to restrict spatial ring use to the upper class only.

Though Kevin had never trained in spiritual power due to his humble origins, he had seen many spatial rings. Even commoners could use them without training. The difference was that commoners had to remove the ring and align its hollow center toward the object, then use thought to place the object inside.

Those with some magical foundation could simply wear the ring and touch the object to store it. The principle behind the spatial ring lay in the hollow center, which acted as a gateway to another space. This was essential for all spatial storage devices, which, based on current magical theory, could only be made in ring shapes.

Filling the ring with unrelated items was no problem. The smallest was naturally a ring; larger variants included spatial bracelets, belts, round shields, and even hula hoops.

No spatial storage device could store another spatial device inside it. In other words, a spatial hula hoop could not contain a spatial ring. Although many top scholars had studied spatial stacking technology obsessively, no results had emerged. The Church of Light dismissed such ideas as impossible.

Their reasoning was simple: if one ring could contain another, then one ring could hold hundreds of thousands of rings, each of those rings could hold hundreds of thousands more, creating a fractal storage system capable of holding an entire continent in a single ring. That was absurd. The divine would never create a world with such glaring loopholes.

Nevertheless, despite the Church’s disdain, top scholars and mages continued their research with enthusiasm.

Spatial rings had many drawbacks as well. They could not store living animals or insects—not because the creatures would die inside, but because they simply could not be absorbed. The only way was to kill and then place the corpse inside. Plants could be stored, but they withered quickly, the cause unknown.

Another flaw was that spatial rings could activate during sleep due to the wearer’s dreams. One might suddenly find their quilt, pillow, or even bed stored away, leaving them to fall to the floor. It was also possible for stored items to be suddenly released, posing danger. Those with weak mental control usually removed their rings before sleeping.

Of course, the advantages of spatial rings were clear. Of the two Kevin held, the Blue Army major’s ring could hold about the volume of a normal room, while Sain’s ring was at least twice as large. No wonder the general’s son’s equipment was superior.

Still, even so, it was impossible to fit an entire catapult inside. As dusk approached, Kevin began to study the rings carefully in the forest.

Spatial rings had many special uses. Once, an assassin who stole books created a crack in a wall and used a spatial ring to store the wall section inside, then replaced it silently and seamlessly. This exploited the ring’s ability to bypass the exact fit of the crack, forcibly storing the segment as long as the break was confirmed.

Similarly, if someone tightly gripped a knife or had their hands bound with rope, the spatial ring could still easily absorb the knife. Of course, storing items required some time; if the item was withdrawn mid-process, the storage was interrupted. Such techniques were indeed used in combat. Not only knives, but even clothing could be stored directly.

To fully prevent this, one could use special magic arrays exploiting the impossibility of spatial stacking or glue the knife to the hand.

With this knowledge, Kevin lightly tapped a catapult wheel with the ring and easily swallowed it inside, while the iron pin fixing the wheel remained secured on the axle.

However, putting the wheel back onto the axle via the spatial ring was tricky and took considerable effort. As a first-time user, judging the distance was difficult, but once he succeeded once, it became much easier.

Kevin then broke off a branch to measure the catapult parts and the ring’s internal space. Step by step, he disassembled the catapult. The joints were mostly mortise and tenon connections, requiring no hammer or saw—just a tap from the ring sufficed.

Still, working alone kept Kevin busy and exhausted. Though the joints were mortise and tenon, some were glued. He even considered sawing through some connections. After returning, he planned to modify the catapult for easier disassembly and packing into the rings.

Thankfully, after a night of study and experimentation, Kevin managed to dismantle the entire five-pair heavy-wheel catapult and fit it into two rings. After nearly two sleepless days, the task was complete, and he felt a great relief.

His spirits, naturally low from lack of rest, made wandering about dangerous. Kevin quickly found a spot, spread a mat, and lay down. But the night was chilly, and his blanket was dirty, so he was reluctant to use it. Then he recalled the three female-dress dolls he had confiscated.

Thinking “Why let them go to waste?” he took one out and used it as a blanket, hugging it as he fell asleep. It felt surprisingly comfortable, and Kevin almost instantly dozed off.

When he woke, it was already evening. The doll’s hair was poking into his nostrils, causing two sneezes. Pinching his nose, he sat up and suddenly remembered: as the third-party supervisor, Little Spoon was probably nearby. If Little Spoon saw him cuddling a doll dressed as a woman, would it affect his image?

Blushing, Kevin glanced around hurriedly and quickly stored the doll back into the ring.

Regardless, the exercise had to continue. After resting a moment and eating some jerky to calm down, Kevin finally mounted his donkey and left the forest. (To be continued.)