After the first reconstruction project officially began, the Chinese military think tank released a comprehensive study that completely changed the national discussion surrounding the new cities. What had originally been viewed as an ambitious political project designed to earn promotions for local officials was suddenly reclassified as a matter of national security. According to the report, constructing cities centered around Magic Circle Arrays was no longer an optional modernization effort but a strategic necessity. If China failed to provide every citizen with access to those magic circles, the nation would permanently place itself at a disadvantage against countries that did.
The report estimated that the average strength of every Chinese citizen could increase by at least twenty percent simply by living inside properly constructed Magic Circle Arrays. Such an increase did not come from granting people additional talent or better cultivation techniques but from creating a healthier cultivation environment. Ordinary atmospheric mana was perfectly safe for humans to absorb, but it was never completely pure. Mixed within it were minute traces of harmful attributes such as Death, Decay, Poison, and several other unstable mana types that naturally accumulated throughout the world.
Individually, those harmful mana attributes were insignificant and posed no immediate danger to human life. The problem was that the human body instinctively worked to expel those impurities while cultivating. Every trace of toxic mana required energy to remove, meaning part of a cultivator's effort was constantly wasted cleansing their body instead of strengthening it. Although the loss appeared insignificant during a single cultivation session, the effects accumulated over years until the difference became impossible to ignore.
To explain the issue more clearly, the report compared the human body to a vessel slowly being reinforced by mana. Every cultivation session allowed mana to seep deeper into the body, strengthening muscles, organs, bones, and every other tissue. However, because the body continuously spent energy expelling poisonous mana attributes, much of that strengthening process remained incomplete. Instead of allowing mana to penetrate all the way into the bones, the body often exhausted itself reinforcing only the skin and muscles before running out of usable energy.
That difference alone represented an enormous gap in long-term cultivation potential. A cultivator whose mana consistently reached the bones would possess far greater durability, vitality, and physical strength than someone whose body could only reinforce its outer layers. Over months and years, that advantage compounded until the difference between the two became obvious even if both individuals possessed identical talent and cultivation methods. Simply providing cleaner mana dramatically improved the efficiency of every single cultivation session without requiring people to work any harder than before.
The military analysts therefore reached a straightforward conclusion. Every new Magic Circle Array removed a significant portion of those harmful mana impurities before citizens ever absorbed them into their bodies. As a result, nearly all of the energy previously wasted on purification could instead be directed toward strengthening the cultivator. The circles did not make cultivation easier by granting free power; they merely eliminated unnecessary losses that had always slowed humanity's progress.
Because of those findings, the report urged the Chinese government to accelerate construction as quickly as possible. Every additional district equipped with properly designed Magic Circle Arrays directly increased the average strength of the nation's population. From the military's perspective, stronger civilians eventually produced stronger soldiers, stronger researchers, stronger workers, and stronger future generations. National defense was no longer measured solely by weapons and armies but also by the average cultivation level of ordinary citizens.
The report also warned of another serious danger. If China delayed implementation while rival nations completed similar projects first, those countries would enjoy a significant long-term advantage. Their citizens would cultivate more efficiently, allowing them to produce stronger experts and claim greater rewards during future Guardian Trials and Secret Realm expeditions. Resources that might otherwise have belonged to China could instead be claimed by foreign competitors simply because their populations had developed faster.
Such an outcome was considered completely unacceptable. Every Guardian Trial represented an opportunity to strengthen the nation, and allowing another country to gain advantages through superior preparation was viewed as a strategic failure. Even a seemingly modest increase in average cultivation could determine which nation secured the greatest rewards when competing on the global stage. For that reason, the military classified nationwide construction of Magic Circle Arrays as an urgent strategic priority rather than a simple infrastructure project.
After receiving the report, the Chinese government wasted no time changing its national priorities. Enormous amounts of funding were redirected toward the housing initiative, while several less important projects were postponed or partially defunded to free additional resources. Although the decision generated administrative difficulties, very few officials questioned it after reading the military's conclusions. The strategic benefits were simply too significant to ignore.
The government's reasoning was ultimately quite simple. History had repeatedly shown that nations were never sustained by a handful of extraordinary geniuses alone. Every inventor, researcher, commander, or cultivator depended upon millions of ordinary citizens performing the countless unseen tasks that allowed society to function. If those ordinary people became stronger, healthier, and more efficient, then the nation as a whole naturally became stronger as well.
For that reason, the housing project transformed from an ambitious urban redevelopment plan into one of China's highest national priorities. What had begun as a local experiment was now viewed as an investment in the country's future survival and prosperity. The officials responsible for proposing the project suddenly found themselves overseeing one of the most important construction efforts in modern history. Rather than building mere neighborhoods, they were laying the foundation upon which China's next generation of cultivators would stand.
At the same time, China's decision to pursue nationwide construction encountered remarkably little resistance. Most citizens supported the project because they could clearly see the benefits it would bring to both themselves and the nation as a whole. Large businesses also found little reason to oppose the initiative since the government was providing financial support while creating enormous new markets for construction, engineering, and magical infrastructure. As a result, the project advanced with surprising speed and unity.
Outside China, however, the reaction was entirely different. Many influential capitalists openly criticized the Chinese approach, not because they believed it would fail, but because they feared it would become the global standard. Their preferred strategy was to reserve the Magic Circle Arrays exclusively for society's elite while allowing ordinary citizens to continue cultivating under far poorer conditions. By doing so, they hoped to widen the gap between themselves and the general population until their positions of power became virtually unchallengeable.
From their perspective, controlling access to high-quality cultivation environments meant controlling the future itself. Powerful families would grow even stronger with every passing generation, while those without wealth would find it increasingly difficult to catch up. Such an arrangement would reinforce existing social hierarchies while providing a convenient justification for why the elites deserved to remain in power. To many of those influential figures, the Magic Circle Arrays represented not merely infrastructure but an opportunity to permanently secure their dominance.
Fortunately, not everyone agreed with that line of thinking. Many politicians, military leaders, and influential families immediately recognized the dangers of restricting humanity's development for personal gain. Even if a stronger elite could easily suppress a rebellion in the short term, deliberately weakening the general population offered no lasting benefit to the nation itself. In their eyes, a country that intentionally limited the growth of its own people would eventually be overtaken by nations that encouraged everyone to become stronger.
Their concerns extended beyond domestic stability. Humanity had already entered an era where nations competed directly during Guardian Trials and other System-related opportunities. Every citizen represented potential military strength, economic productivity, and future talent. Sacrificing the development of millions of ordinary people simply to strengthen a privileged minority was viewed by many strategists as one of the worst long-term decisions a government could make.
Within Europe, the leadership of the Great Houses and the upper levels of the European Union quickly reached the same conclusion after studying China's report. They fully supported constructing Magic Circle districts for the general population and understood that delaying implementation would only weaken Europe's future position. Unfortunately, agreeing on a policy and actually implementing it proved to be two entirely different matters. The greatest resistance did not come from governments but from the factions that had originally purchased the mana filtration information.
Those organizations had spent enormous sums acquiring exclusive knowledge that they could keep to themselves for at least 6 months. Naturally, they wanted to maximize their return on that investment by restricting access for as long as possible. Private Magic Circle districts would allow them to cultivate more efficiently than everyone else, securing an enormous advantage during the early years of the System. Giving those benefits away to the public immediately would effectively destroy the exclusive position they had paid so much money to obtain.
For a time, that resistance stalled many government proposals. The officials understood the necessity of nationwide implementation, yet they also faced pressure from influential organizations that had already invested heavily in the technology. Breaking that political deadlock seemed almost impossible without overwhelming evidence proving that universal access was a matter of national security rather than social policy. Fortunately for them, China's military report provided exactly the justification they needed.
Once the report became publicly available among allied governments, European officials wasted little time adopting a similar strategy. Like China, they announced that the state would oversee the reconstruction of entire cities while allowing ordinary citizens to invest directly in their future homes. The objective was not to generate profits from rebuilding urban infrastructure but to strengthen the nation's long-term cultivation potential. Framing the initiative as a security requirement effectively silenced many of the earlier objections.
Europe did, however, introduce one important difference compared to the Chinese model. Private companies were also permitted to submit proposals for constructing residential districts alongside the government's own projects. Unsurprisingly, many corporations eagerly accepted the opportunity, recognizing that the demand for modern housing would remain enormous for decades. Even so, strict regulations accompanied that privilege to prevent excessive exploitation.
The government made one condition absolutely clear. Companies were forbidden from profiting from the reconstruction process itself, meaning they could not artificially inflate construction costs or exploit citizens simply because everyone needed new homes. That requirement immediately discouraged several businesses that had hoped for easy profits. From their perspective, if rebuilding entire neighborhoods generated no immediate financial return, there was little reason to participate at all.
More forward-thinking companies viewed the situation very differently. They realized that the real value did not lie in constructing the buildings but in managing what came afterward. A properly designed residential district contained carefully cultivated plants and specialized materials that continuously filtered surrounding mana, creating an area heavily aligned with one particular elemental attribute. Such environments dramatically improved cultivation for residents with matching affinities, making those districts extraordinarily desirable places to live.
The Great Houses understood that opportunity better than anyone else. Nearly every one of them immediately submitted applications to construct at least three separate housing districts tailored toward different elemental environments. While government-controlled districts would primarily serve the military, police, intelligence agencies, schools, and universities, privately managed districts could be leased to ordinary cultivators willing to pay for superior cultivation conditions. Over time, those districts would become reliable and highly profitable sources of long-term income.
Across the Atlantic, the center of global capitalism reached a similar conclusion, although for very different reasons. Many influential American investors had initially considered keeping the technology restricted to the wealthy elite, believing it would permanently strengthen their own positions within society. After further discussion, however, they abandoned that strategy. Once the six-month exclusivity period expired and the information became public, suppressing popular demand would become practically impossible.
Instead, they chose to embrace the market. Construction companies began charging approximately twenty silver coins for each apartment, generating profits of around ten silver coins per unit while simultaneously requesting substantial government funding to support the development of entire neighborhoods. From a business perspective, it was an extraordinary opportunity. Every morning, investors woke up calculating how much wealth these projects would generate over the coming decades.
Most of those businessmen never seriously considered the possibility that the government might reject their proposals. Public influence had weakened considerably after the civil war, leaving ordinary citizens with far less political leverage than before. As long as the population remained sufficiently satisfied to avoid another large-scale uprising, those in power cared little about popular opinion. The previous rebellion had already taught governments the dangers of widespread unrest, particularly after foreign influence had deliberately fueled the conflict to accelerate demands for independence, and few leaders wished to see history repeat itself.