Hell seemed like an apt description of what Corpse saw once he walked out of the wreckage. A green shiny plane that stretched beyond what the eye could see, decorated with mountains of broken spirit ships and other broken spirit tools. Some of the larger ones even managed to reach 100 meters.
Corpse, rooted in place, looked on with awe and a bit of terror. " Are you sure I didn't die and fall down to the abyss? "
The old monk chuckled a bit and gently pushed Corpse forward. " The burial ground of ancient gods where only the most fiendish of demons end up after death. Were you that much of a bad boy, little corpse? " Corpse regained his composure and walked forward on his own. " Who knows, but if this was a punishment from Heaven above you would think they would at least leave my memories intact so that I would know what I was punished for. " He turned to the old monk, " What about you? Have any sins you want to get off your chest? "
The old monk shook his head. " This isn't the abyss, these are the scavenger plains. A big dumpster where people throw out things that they wish to be lost and forgotten. " " Why would things here be lost and forgotten? Where exactly are we? " Corpse was curious to know where he was and annoyed that he couldn't match this place with any of the ones he had in his scattered memories.
The old monk dramatically stopped and swung his arm wide open. " Welcome to the dying but never dead world of Myris. In this wide universe of ours, If you want to die there are few places better than this one.'' It might have made for a grand introduction if they weren't surrounded by rubble, wreckage, and desolation that would dishearten even the bravest of souls. With a wide smile on his face, the old monk asked. " Was this enough of an introduction? Or perhaps you want a tour? "
Corpse quickly felt what little anxiety he displayed turn to anger. That damn old thing was mocking him, no questions about it. But that anger soon simmered down to annoyance, just seeing the monk's expression Corpse could tell the old thing was just trying to mess with him. In the end, he just rolled his eyes and pushed the old monk forward. " Yeah, now get a move on. Weren't you the one that was running away like your pants were on fire? " The old monk just chuckled and started to walk on his own.
"By the way, just out of pure curiosity, but what do you remember about your past ? " The old monk suddenly asked. Corpse tried to recall. " Not much. Certain places, names but nothing that I can identify as my own. Only thing I know for sure I used to be 2nd realm cultivator. " The old monk questioned, " Used to be? "
" Yes! " Corpse bitterly admitted. " Used to be." He had very little spiritual sense left but thanks to his cultivation art it was still enough to check the condition of his body, and what he saw was enough to bring any cultivator to tears. The grief that he felt almost seemed instinctual
Corpse zoned out of the conversation and observed the inner workings of his body with spirit sense. It allowed him to see any ailments that plagued his health. Corpse surprisingly didn't see any recent injuries although there were a ton of old scars. Torn muscles, broken bones, and countless other internal injuries all healed, but not in the way it's normally done. Instead of restoring his body to its previous healthy condition, his injuries seemed to be mended like broken parts of a tool, like he was a puppet instead of a human being.
If the condition of his body made him angry enough to go berserk, the sight of his aperture was enough to blow the wind right out of his sails. An aperture is a cultivator's lifeline, it's a gathering point of qi inside a cultivator body that absorbs raw heavenly energy, refines it, and cultivates it to higher levels of power, and Corpse's aperture was currently shattered and unable to absorb any heavenly energy.
While it wasn't impossible for Corpse to rebuild his aperture, it definitely was time-consuming and without a safe environment outright suicidal. The final kick to the backside that he felt was the condition of his body. Even if he could move around, Corpse still constantly felt like he walked through water and even the simplest of actions took twice the effort. Depending on how dangerous Myris is, it might just be a death sentence for him. Worst of all he didn't have a single clue, just what might be the cause.
Corpse felt broken on many different levels, with his cultivation and memory in shambles a part of him wanted nothing more but to endlessly wallow in sorrow. Yet he couldn't allow despair to take over, so he kept moving forward. If he allowed that darkness to catch him, it would leave nothing behind but an empty husk. Then he truly would be nothing but a corpse.
