Yi Qiang was quick to discover that any wounds he had before death, no matter how severe, were instantly healed once he revived at the start. This was invaluable.

With his real stats, an injury would take at most a few minutes to heal. However, when his Constitution was fixed at 100, his regeneration was a pitiful shadow of its former self.

Intent on fully exploiting this, the marksman applied a handy trick of the psychology he had picked up when he was still studying to enhance his effectiveness as a sniper. The brain learned something much faster if pain was involved.

As such, he began going through the course with his tongue in his teeth. The instant he sensed that he made a wrong move, Yi Qiang bit.

The stinging pain was, of course, nothing to him, but his brain took it as a reminder not to repeat the action that caused the pain.

He didn't know the degree by which it enhanced his improvement, but when the stakes were so high, Yi Qiang needed every advantage he could get.

Improvement was slow, agonizingly so. Within an hour, the marksman was lucky if he could increase his maximum distance by five meters. That seemed like a reasonable rate, but it was dwarfed by the 200-plus meters he had yet to pass.

Unfortunately, the marksman couldn't forgo sleep, either. Though even his current stats were superhuman by the standards of Earth, rest wasn't as obsolete as it was at over 500 Constitution.

It was also essential if he wanted to change so drastically in as short a time as he could. Sleep was akin to allowing new concepts, which were similar to still-wet paintings, to dry and harden. Without it, and enough of it, any progress would be fleeting.

That didn't mean he could waste any time trying to fall asleep, though, so Yi Qiang waited until he was thoroughly at his limit before laying down to rest.

After his first time sleeping, the improvements were drastic. Compared to the fifty or sixty meters that Yi Qiang could previously struggle through, the marksman now found that the difficulties only began at around the hundred-meter mark.

Unfortunately, that rate of progress wouldn't last forever - Yi Qiang had long since noticed that the difficulty of the course increased exponentially the farther he got.

Already, though, the marksman could feel his movements begin to morph. They were getting sharper, faster, and more subtle. For the first time in years, Yi Qiang saw himself growing by the minute. The sensation was invigorating.

The second day in, brute force was losing effectiveness. His previous training method of charging in and beating improvement into his bones was becoming more and more inefficient as the skill level increased.

Compared to the all-rounded improvement of such a method, Yi Qiang found he needed a more specific way. He needed to improve upon a skill with laser focus.

First, the marksman discovered that, rather than his technique, his senses were inhibiting him. The precious instants it took him to detect a silent arrow flying through the air were often costing him his life.

In this context, eyesight was all but obsolete. With attacks flying at him from all directions, Yi Qiang couldn't swivel his head fast enough to react to each one just relying upon his eyes.

His sense of smell... well, that was never going to have much of an impact on combat. The same, obviously, applied to taste.

The sensitivities he needed to develop were two in number - hearing, and touch.

A refined sense of hearing would allow him to pinpoint where arrows emerged from just based on the sound of them emerging from the walls, while an improved sense of touch could potentially alert him to the momentum of the arrows headed toward his body.

The only drawback to the latter was that he would have to bare his skin as much as possible to maximize its benefits, but there was no one to watch him. He hoped. Either way, the marksman had a strong enough sense of priority to place passing the trial over showing a little skin.

First, he wanted to refine his sense of touch. Working on his hearing first would impede training this, as he would be able to sense the arrows coming with his ears before detecting them with his skin, interfering with trying to feel their path.

As he would have to be near-naked anyway, Yi Qiang tied a torn-off pant leg around his eyes and ears, dulling them so he could focus only on one sense.

First, the marksman wanted to test his capabilities relying mainly upon his touch. As such, he rushed into the obstacle course, intent on pushing himself to his limits to see how far he could reach.

In a surprising twist of fate, Yi Qiang managed to get a full hundred meters into the path before being finished off. In this case, Yi Qiang relied less upon the movement his skin could feel than upon his instinct. The marksman had never discovered in what the mystical 'sixth sense' took root. His best guess, though, was that it was the brain acting at its maximum capacity to make instant judgments, not based on one sense, but based on all the information it was receiving at one point in time.

It seemed to be at least partly based in the sense of touch, as even when he blocked his other senses as much as possible, the sixth sense only adopted a more dominant role.

That's good. It means that when I'm training my sensitivity, I'll also be honing my instincts.

Fully regenerated once again, Yi Qiang dashed sixty meters into the course. His makeshift hybrid bandana still tied around his head, the marksman focused.

Almost as if spreading his consciousness over his skin, Yi Qiang pushed his limits, trying to feel acutely the force of every arrow bearing down upon him.

Three days in.

Muscles slightly tensed, a figure walked into a narrow hallway. The moment it stepped foot into the corridor, numerous arrows came flying at it.

Time seemed to stop as the silhouette flowed in between the shining red projectiles, sliding past them as if they were still.

Like a fluid force of nature, the arrows lost their lethality before him. Facing veritable hailstorms, the figure ducked, dove, rolled, and leaped, never losing balance or composure. No movement was quicker than it had to be, no distance greater.

Two hundred meters into the course, the silhouette began to speed up. No longer was each limb water - instead, they became blindingly fast shadows. To dodge the arrows, the figure became like the cardinal arrows, the manifestation of precision and agility.

Each limb acted independently of the other. Each movement bent slightly when a new arrow emerged. The figure moved with countless possibilities in its mind. The myriad paths he could take hovered in his mind, slowly revolving, until another arrow shot out, deciding for him.

The figure was clockwork. Each crimson arrow was expected, and each arrow was understood.

Three hundred meters into the course, the projectiles were many degrees higher in number and speed.

The figure no longer seemed to work around the angles of each of the attacks. Instead, he seemed to manipulate them.

Any spectator would only have one word in his or her mind watching him: unstoppable.

Each movement held barreling momentum, but it was more than that. At its most simple, the terror the figure inspired was born from the control of its uncontrollable force.

Every limb never lost energy as it drove through the air, the momentum only building. Despite that, no matter how high the strength behind each movement built, it was perfectly controlled.

Four hundred meters in, everything changed. There were only a hundred meters left before the end, but the real wall was here. The previous four hundred meters had been the prelude before the fugue, the calm before the storm, the trembling before the earthquake.

No longer did the figure face a rain of arrows. It faced a blood-red wall, pressing in from both sides at speeds normally impossible to handle.

A wall had no holes. There was no weaving through a wall.

The clockwork tempest morphed. An impenetrable bastion no longer pressed down upon a hurricane.

It pressed down upon a giant.

If there were no holes, a giant made holes.

The silhouette slapped the shaft of the crimson arrows downwards as they formed, driving them into the ground where they dissipated. Strangely deft, the hands of the figure were as if divinely controlled, driven precisely where necessary. Holes appeared in the wall even as it drove towards the body.

And yet, it wasn't enough. The figure had four limbs.

The wall had thousands.

Yi Qiang materialized back at the beginning.

Five days in.

An ordinary man stepped into a corridor.

He didn't move. He didn't have to. The countless arrows flying at him bent around him.

A hail had holes. So, too, did this. The man used no special techniques, no fancy skills. He walked casually, as if on the street, on a sunny day.

And yet, he survived. Every footstep, every sway of the arm, was precisely placed where it needed to be.

Two hundred meters in, the man took off his blindfold.

Three hundred meters in, he took out the little pieces of cotton he had plugged in his ears.

Four hundred meters in, the man took a deep breath, before erupting.

Each molecule of strength hidden in his legs until now exploded into movement, driving him forward. Even as an impenetrable wall of crimson arrows pressed upon the man from both sides, he sprinted unimpeded. The man plucked arrows out of the air while they sliced towards him, using them as makeshift daggers, sweeping holes into the wall on both sides.

Holes, the man could do.

Fifty meters remaining until the end. The wall doubled in speed and momentum.

The man's arms no longer moved fast enough to catch the arrows. No matter how divine their trajectory, the barrier of physics was one that could only be subverted, not shattered.

The man couldn't hold on. He lasted less than a second before hundreds of arrows pierced him at the same time.

At the beginning again.

Three things were different.

Looking up, Yi Qiang saw three blue screens hovering in front of him. He had changed so much in the last five days they were almost unrecognizable, a relic of the past that his rapid growth had long since left behind.

Legendary Skill Gained!

Intuition

Your body's intuition has been honed to perfection. This skill represents reaching the pinnacle in the triad of senses, movements, and reactions.

Level: NA

Effects:

+20% physical stats

-50% damage taken

Congratulations!

You are the first to gain a Legendary Skill!

Permanent boon gained!

+50% experience gained from all sources

Warning: you have three revivals remaining for this section of the Cloud Court.

Reading the first two windows, uncontrollable excitement rose up inside of Yi Qiang. The effects of the Legendary Skill, as it was called, were amazing. The first effect of increasing all of his physical stats by 20% would only get better as he progressed, and the 50% reduction to all the damage he took could save his life one day. Which, in his case, wasn't particularly beneficial, but when death would cost him an invaluable opportunity, the skill would be crucial.

The reward for being the first to gain a Legendary Skill was also incredible, giving him an extra 50% experience gain. With that boon, his future progress would be all but unstoppable.

But once he read the third window, Yi Qiang sank from heaven back down to hell.

What does this mean? I only have four tries left? And even if I manage to get past this, does this mean the other sections will also have limited revivals?

How am I supposed to balance the time limit and the death limit?

The marksman started to feel a rare emotion rise within him - panic. He had grown attached to the Cloud Court. The feeling of actual progress, relying only upon himself and not the system, was deceptively addictive. To Yi Qiang, it had been far too long since he was able to improve his skills.

The Cloud Court, and not just this section, represented the chance to do that. The marksman had the feeling that if he let this opportunity pass, he would never find something like this again.

So now, that the difficulty of completing the obstacle course had increased manifold, even Yi Qiang couldn't suppress the panic growing within him.

Forced to focus on his breath for the first time in a long time, the archer began to calm himself down.

I can still do this. Especially with Intuition. None of my other skills apply here, but the Legendary Skill seems to break that rule. That means my body strength has just increased by 20%, a bonus that could guarantee me passing it. Not only that, but me gaining the skill must represent that the system recognized that I crossed some kind of barrier. All that considered, it's unlikely I can't pass this.

As Yi Qiang stood in front of the corridor, uncontrollable anxiety rearing its head, he could only think one thing.

Come on.