Chapter 3: Spirit Materialization

Zhao felt his head spinning, and all previous thoughts were blown away. He immediately dropped to one knee with faked the reverence reflected within his eyes. As shameless as he was, Zhao still treasured his little life over a minor bit of pride. "Oh exalted one, this slave can only kowtow before someone as mighty as you!" he shouted, his voice full of devotion and absolute respect.

The ghost-like figure couldn't help but furrow his brows in confusion at this sight. At first, someone had defiled his crypt; so he assumed that it was an enemy sect attack, but instead, he found the many Blood Immortal disciples fleeing. His ego, however, was bolstered by the kneeling disciple at his side. "It is very good that you are aware of your place, lowly slave. You have pleased me," he said in one breath, shaking the walls.

Zhao didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he continued to suck up to the strange apparition until he returned to his tomb. Inwardly, Zhao decided to never kick an unknown tablet again in this life!

After the powerful aura dissipated, the disciples gradually returned with angered expressions. Most of them gawked toward Zhao, their killing intent flaring. Some of the men even unsheathed their blades and unleashed their bone-refinement cultivation in all of its glory.

Seeing this, Zhao turned tail and began fleeing! Enraged, the others chased after him, blowing holes into the ground and throwing swords at his figure. In the Blood Immortal sect, no one would miss a trifling slave. Especially if the consensus of every outer disciple present was to murder him. It was a public execution!

On the other hand, tears threatened to fall from Zhao's eyes as he fled. Thankfully, he had long gotten used to dashing away, so he was able to acutely dodge the onslaught of attacks. Much to his fellow disciples dismay, they were forced to launch strike after strike. Some men had even entered into the great circle of bone-refinement, just a step away from Qi materialization. Their attacks were especially fierce as they rained down on Zhao, quaking the inner cave.

Sweat rained down the sides of Zhao's face as he screamed for help. He was cursing his bad luck. Who knew that such a bland looking tomb would be the result of his demise?

Then, suddenly, a voice echoed out inside of his head. "I, the great Eternal Painter, awoke to my new master running away from lowly bone-refinement cultivators… how unpalatable." It said in an incomparably cold voice.

Now, on top of the enormous group of people chasing him, Zhao was freaked out by the ghost inside of his head. He picked up speed and passed by a few unknown corners and halls, soon landing inside of a dark room. It was cold and empty, leaving a strange sensation. Zhao turned around to see that the group of disciples ceased chasing after him. Instead, gloating expressions appeared on their faces as they sealed the entrance.

Confused, Zhao temporarily breathed out a sigh of relief and observed his new surroundings. Other than a few empty jail cells, it was relatively empty. Furthermore, Zhao was pleasantly surprised at the freezing temperatures. He could practice the first stage of the Undying Pestilence Body.

Without much more dawdling, he stepped inside one of the jail cells and sat down in lotus position. Immediately, the cold voice resounded again. "Boy, your spirit realm is pitiful, I can't even stretch my arms out." It said, haughtily.

Zhao was perplexed, but he soon felt his consciousness being pulled toward his dantian, where his spirit sea was located. In the new realm, in contrast to the flowery fables, his spirit realm could be considered bland at best. Only a few feet worth of grass was present; everything else was dark and uninhabitable, almost like an endless void.

Sitting in the middle of the grass, a blurry figure could be seen. It was obviously a male, but he also appeared thin and tall. Zhao, with his current cultivation, was unable to determine any other characteristics the man possessed. Still, Zhao could feel the strikingly rampant bloodlust the strange man exuded.

"W-What the hell are you doing in my spirit sea?" Zhao questioned, taking a step back in the process.

"Quite frankly, I've been asking myself the same question for some time now, " the man replied, "the simple answer is that I'm unlucky, and your luck is beyond comprehension."

Zhao grimaced, and the strange man continued. "The medallion chose you as its successor. I'm just a mere passerby in all of this."

Another sigh escaped from the so-called eternal painter, causing Zhao to close his eyes and sit down, deflated. In the mere matter of two days, he had stolen the red medallion, entered the Blood Immortal sect, almost died, and now, he discovered a mysterious entity inside of his spirit sea. Although he was happy about finally reaching an appropriate spot for cultivation, he was already exhausted.

While Zhao wallowed in his abhorrent fate, the eternal painter cleared his throat. "Ahem, since you have sown karma with me, I will help you a little bit."

Zhao lifted his eyes, his expression deadpan. "What can you do other than berate me?" He questioned.

"Although it is true, with your latent talent, you'll never make it to qi materialization, " the ghost announced, "especially with that suicidal cultivation technique."

As he spoke to here, the spectral could see the light fading from Zhao's eyes. "However, I come from a land far, far away from here. A place that not only specializes on the road to immortality, but also in the fortification of one's spirit." He explained.

"There are three different ways to gain strength in our vast world: spirit, body, and qi. Both qi and physical techniques are self-explanatory, but the spirit has to do with willpower and discipline."

At this point, the crestfallen Zhao regained a little bit of light in his eyes. "What do you mean? How do I cultivate it, and how strong is it?"

A wry smile formed on the man's face as he reached into the endless void and pulled out a piece of parchment. It didn't appear magical in any way, nor was it domineering in the slightest. Instead, it seemed like an average price of paper.

It levitated to Zhao's location, to which he snatched it from the air. 'I don't know what he is or how he is in my dantian, but I have no other choice other than to listen to him. After all, my talent truly is pathetic.' He mused to himself while inspecting the goatskin.

Out of nowhere, an elegant brush appeared in Zhao's left hand. It was slender, possessing firm bristles and fleeting clouds etched onto the handle. Not only was it light to the touch, but Zhao almost felt an innate attraction to the thing, as If it were calling to him.

"My real name is Guan Liu, a painter." The ghost commented from afar, "training your spirit can be done in many different ways, utilizing all of your attention to one thing. It's a form of art, a way to express yourself."

As he spoke to here, Guan Liu continued in a higher octave. "If you forego body and qi, you will tread down a path that no one has ever walked down before. However, nothing is impossible with hard work and dedication."

At this point, a deep sigh escaped from Guan Liu's lips as he grasped Zhao's attention. On the parchment, words began to emerge, and a strange, sadistic aura permeated the spirit realm. It caused Zhao to palpitate and take a few steps back, simultaneously reading the first few letters on the bizarre scripture.

"Heaven Encompassing Art" Zhao read aloud.

Once the technique was out in the open, Guan Liu took a step forward and seized it. His expression was Incomparably profound as he scrutinized both it and Zhao.

"Boy," he opened up. "There are many roads on the way to immortality, and some will completely eradicate every other possible path as you choose it. This is one of such techniques; it is both an evil and lawful mantra."

Liu continued after catching his breath, "not only does it require you to shatter your dantian, but you must also never practice another body technique. It will strip you of your right to gain enlightenment of any other dao, solidifying your position as a spirit cultivator."

Zhao sucked in a breath of cold air as he weighed the pros and cons of such an action. On the one hand, he was aware of his mediocre talent, but he also knew that a fortuitous encounter might propel him forward. On the other hand, a strange entity was basically handing him a new lease on life, disregarding any hope of possibly cultivating the normal way.

He was young, very young. But, no matter how he wrapped his head around it, he couldn't see himself living after six months. It took him five years to form just one single strand of qi, let alone materialize it.

"W-What are the various realms of a spirit cultivator?" Zhao asked after a moment of hesitation.

"To my knowledge, there are a total of six realms, each one with five subsequent levels. But, you should first focus on the first realm, soul materialization."

After speaking to here, Guan Liu retrieved a stone plaque. A creature was etched onto it, coupled with various words and mysterious patterns. It was a soul materialization stone. When one observed it for enough time, their purest form, their spirit, would materialize. When that came to be, one could finally walk down the road of spiritual cultivation.

Zhao An felt his mouth go dry as he received the tablet with trembling hands. It was a new road, but it was the only thing that he could manage to step on at the moment. Everywhere else was an endless abyss.

Guan Liu watched as Zhao became enamored with the soul materialization stone. This was a regular occurrence, and a relatively bland soul would begin to show up after an incense sticks worth of time. Most humans were in possession of a soul that mirrored themselves, while a select few managed to materialize those of a tiger or ox.

Time passed, and Zhao was still in a daze while looking at the magical rock. This was the first step to learning the Heaven Encompassing Art, and yet he was still unable to move forward. Such a fate was unacceptable to him!

At the side, Guan Liu furrowed his brows in contemplation. 'What's going on? Even a beetle has enough talent to materialize their soul!' He thought to himself, perplexed.

Gradually, five minutes turned into thirty, and then even hours passed. Zhao's clothes were already drenched with sweat, and he had entered an unconscious state.

However, in his spirit sea, a profoundly deep warmth began to spread out. Furthermore, an ethereal image appeared on top of Zhao's shoulders. It was a magnificent bird, and its wings seemed to be broad enough to carry mountains and shoulder the heavens. The intelligent gleam within its eyes was inexplicable, and the heat irradiated from its body pressured even Guan Liu.

"H-How did the spawn of such a creature end up here?" Guan Liu felt his mind reeling at the sight.

Unfortunately, Zhao was still asleep, unaware of the changes to his body.