Han Bei felt his mind swimming through a fog. It was a familiar sensation, one he experienced every time he dreamt. A fragment of a memory swam up to the surface of his mind as some of the fog cleared. He was in a gray desert, it was a night lit up by 3 different sized moons, each the color of sapphire. He was surrounded by several grim-faced men in black cloaks while he had a demonic black armor that devoured the surrounding light.

The robbed men carefully monitored the surroundings as if they expected trouble, and their worry soon proved to be well placed. The desert shook as a great beast emerged from the sand. A scorpion the size of a 2 story house with pincers that could crush boulders like twigs, a stinger that produced purple vicious poison that ate away the sand wherever it dripped, and a crystalline shell that gently reflected the moonlight.

Han Bei felt no fear as he engaged the beast. There was a higher force that guided him. Where he should dodge, where he should strike, all was clear before him. The scorpion's stinger blurred and despite the insects, considerable size its tail moved as fast as lightning. There were 3 heavy thumps as the beast attempted to pierce Han Bei's armor 3 times, and 3 times it failed. Han Bei stood unmoving as he wethered more attacks. He didn't bother to evade or block as he knew none of the beast's attacks would reach his pale flesh, Heaven had told him. The beast couldn't match his might that much was obvious yet he longed to tear the arrogant creature to pieces. It threatened heaven it deserved to die. As Han Bei's spirit filled with bloodlust Heaven finally guided him to action.

Han Bei showed his gratitude the only way he knew Heaven would approve. He broke the desert predator's legs and tore off its tails. His every strike broke apart the shell of the hateful beast until finally, his fists parted the desert with their might.

Soon enough the beast lay dead beneath his feet and Han Bei felt fulfilled by the knowledge that if he followed this higher force, this Heaven only victory awaited. Many more scorpions rose from the gray desert but their fate was no different. Amidst the pearly, youthful laughter of Heaven, Han Bei covered the desert in filthy remains of slain beasts. He felt joy, excitement, and pride passed down to him and it was so electrifying he might have moaned in pleasure, yet he couldn't savor the feeling as the dream finally broke.

The rock ceiling of his cave greeted Han Bei as he woke up with a startle. His stomach curled up in disgust as the memories were still fresh on his mind. They were abhorrent, and twisted, the actions and thoughts of a slave, not of a cultivator. As opposite of what was right to him as the day was from the night. " Cursed lies and falsehoods. May these memories sink to the abyss and forever be forgotten, " Han Bei cursed, in a loud and feral voice as the most disgusting thing of all was the relief and pleasure he still remembered from that cursed dream. So twisted it was that Han Bei feared it might break him.

It took Han Bei several minutes to calm his burning temper as curses still escaped his lips every few seconds and it took even longer before he finally managed to calm himself. After one final fiery breath, he finally left the cave abode. Immediately his eyes turned upward and his mood improved as he watched the stars. It was probably the only thing that reliably managed to calm him down. He couldn't explain why but vast expanses of the endless heaven filled with light and life somehow reassured him about the future. As if there was a path always open for him as long as stars hung above his head.

His gaze fell back to his immediate surroundings and a far less hopeful picture presented itself. Lined up on the walls of the ravine were the signs of countless hours of his fruitless efforts. Carefully paced, so that the whole damn ravine wouldn't be brought down on his head, were damaged segments of the wall where Han Bei had attempted to cultivate his body.

A day or so after he had returned from his little hunt the old monk insisted that Han Bei attempted cultivating different arts, to see how they would mesh with the undying physique. Stubborn at first, Han Bei refused but after a lengthy argument and a promise from the old monk that he would be the one that shouldered the majority of the costs Han Bei relented. While he would have liked to simply concentrate on his spirit cultivation. His increased strength had served him well so it only made sense that he at least tried to cultivate it further.

Greater strength manual held within it the most basic body refining art and was widely used by many cultivators as an addition to their main arts, and for the love of Heavens, Han Bei couldn't cultivate it even a bit. " Might just be fate, " Han Bei bitterly shook his head as he remembered all the hours he had stubbornly wasted. Yet truth had made itself apparent, similarly how he couldn't cultivate his qi near the cursed stage he couldn't refine his body using orthodox means either. " Better focus on what I can actually do. "

When Han Bei was done moping he got in a meditative position and started cultivating. His transparent neighbors soon got close and became his cultivation tonic. 4 days had passed since he reached the initial heaven of the 1st realm and excitedly Han Bei felt that middle heaven was close at hand.

Han Bei's mind cleared and once more any distress he felt faded to the background of his mind and all the worries of the future became minuscule and unimportant. He concentrated as the raw unwelcoming Yin natured heavenly energy was refined and strengthened his aperture, while ghosts were beckoned to him like moths to the flame. His face an absolute picture of serenity as a green tide of cursed power surrounded him from all sides. It depleted and replenished as Han Bei walked ever further on the great path. " The boundary is close I can feel it. "

It was 6 hours later that Han Bei opened his eyes and was greeted by the overly excited monk. " Oh great, " he thought. " The old thing is up to something." The old monk, either ignorant or uncaring of Han Bei's thoughts, called out with excitement, " Oh you finally finished, little corpse. You have to see this, I got my hands on something amazing. " Han Bei's curiosity was peaked but plummeted again seconds later. He pointed with an outstretched finger, " Those are flags. " The old monk corrected him as he caressed a disk in his hands, " No silly, these are formation flags. We are going to have so much fun with these."

Han Bei's face scrunched up in a frown and his voice gave away the dissatisfaction he felt, " Formations, seriously? " It was not like he looked down upon formation arts, Han Bei just found them far too rigid and inflexible for his liking. The old monk raised an eyebrow, " I assume then you had progress with your body refining cultivation, then? " After a sigh, Han Bei admitted, " No, I didn't. " The old monk continued with a level tone, " No, you didn't. I believe it's important that you explore what effects your physique has on different arts. If you are that dissatisfied with formations there are other things we could try like necro-" The old monk didn't get to finish as Han Bei loudly objected, " No! " He completely refused the idea, " No, not necromancy." He gave the old monk a glare that indicated that there will be no argument. After he heard no rebuttal from the old monk after the sudden outburst Han Bei decided to relent if only for a bit. " Fine, I'll try my hand at the damn formations. " The old monk was ecstatic. " You're not going to regret this. " He enthusiastically patted Han Bei on the back, while Han Bei thought to himself in a gloomy manner, " Somehow I doubt that. " With a heavy heart, Han Bei followed the old monk out of the ravine.

Han Bei's hunch turned out to be correct as it turned out he had no talent with formations and his physique gave him no special benefits either. The old monk rubbed his head in frustration. They had taken several days to find a safe place that was far enough from their dwelling and relatively safe enough for practice. Now all of that seemed like a waste of time. Han Bei looked at the 4 flags that produced pitiful amounts of thin mist in an annoyed manner. " This is stupid, this is a stupid waste of time! " The old monk was ready to pull out what little remained of his remaining hair. " You're the one that is stupid. How many times do I have to repeat this? You find a suitable location, decide the size of the formation, calculate the Qi necessary for the formation flags, and then plant them in the correct locations. That's it! It's NOT THAT HARD! "

Han Bei spat back," And I already told you I infused them with what I believe is the correct amount of Qi. " The old monk accusingly pointed his finger at Han Bei. " The amount that you believe is correct, or the amount that you calculated to be correct? " Han Bei looked on to the side, " Cultivators should always follow what they sense is right not what is told by the heavens." "AAAAAAH! " The old monk shouted in frustration. He pulled out a torn booklet and threw it at Han Bei's face. " Study! I hope to see every last word memorized once I get back. " Han Bei questioned, " Where are you going off to now? " The old monk already departed as he answered with sarcasm oozing out of his face. " To get more formation flags, my cute little corpse, because obviously, you're going to ruin these ones. "

Han Bei let out a sigh, sat down, and flipped open the booklet. For a while, he obediently studied the formations, but his mind soon wandered. While it still appeared he was reading 3 ghosts appeared around him. He controlled them to circle around him, to spread out, to move in a single line, move separately. Gradually he dismissed one of the ghosts, while he channeled more qi into the 2 that were left. They became more corporeal and their sped and power increased. Another ghost gradually disappeared leaving behind only a single specter. It moved with incredible speed and its form lost any sign of transparency. With unmatched speed, the last ghost flew through the air, but control of its direction came much harder to Han Bei and he actually had to concentrate, and still, he didn't have the control he desired.

Afraid to run out of Qi Han Bei dismissed the yin soldier. He took out the celestial compass and after he confirmed that the qi there was unsuitable for him he softly swore and took out a spirit stone from his bag of holding, he had around 40 of them left and he was careful not to waste them. The apple-sized silver crystal soon turned into grey dust as it was drained from the pure heavenly energy inside of it.

Finally, Han Bei stood up and threw the booklet away. He channeled qi into his arm. He meant what he previously said, " A cultivator should trust his senses above all else, " and that's what he did. In none of the previous fights, he felt comfortable using the qi enhanced strikes of his previous art. It always seemed like he could never utilize all of his power, some of it always was left unused. His previous cultivation art favored a sudden burst of short power, but that was not the case anymore.

It wouldn't cut it anymore, so Han Bei accumulated qi instead. He gathered as much power as he could, and then some more. He concentrated it further down his arm. and from the elbow down his skin turned grey. He landed a palm strike on a nearby boulder filling it with cracks. After a moment the cracks widened further while green Qi spewed out of them. It looked like some malicious spirit was trying to escape its confinement while the meter tall boulder crumbled to pieces.

His arm returned to its healthy pale color, while he assessed the damage he caused and the injuries he received. The technique definitely needed more refinement but Han Bei sensed the potential there. " To fight with reckless abandon and unmatched savagery. To dedicate my heart and soul to the pure art of battle. To take a step closer to death and push my opponent into its sweet embrace. " He gathered qi into his arm again. " I think I'll call this attack death strike. "