Two men in light blue robes opened up a dingy cell and threw in a slightly charred body. One of the men complained, " Damn, he is heavy. " The other man joked, " HaHa, at least he smells tasty. " The first man spat on the body, " Pfuuu! That's what happens when meat doesn't know its place. " The two men locked the cell and left.

The body in question was laying on the ground unmoving. Only if one carefully listened could shallow breaths be heard, while steam rose up from several patches of charred skin. With a tall stature, pale skin, and green eyes it was none other than Corpse.

After the transaction over his ownership was done, the talisman suppressing his body was exchanged with a heavy metallic collar. When he regained his mobility Corpse immediately attempted to punch a hole through Mo Wan, but he only managed to stand up when suddenly the collar lit up with a blue light and Corpse felt his insides boil as lighting was channeled through him. Just after a few seconds of the shock treatment, he was down on the ground. Unimpressed that cold-blooded bastard ordered that Corpse be dragged to his cell, while Bo Fei left with a happy smile on his face.

Once again Corpse found himself on the floor. Helplessly he watched as what little belongs he had were stripped away from him and he was left with nothing but rags. Minutes passed and his breathing gradually returned to normal, but he didn't get up as each movement was still accompanied with great pain like his body was filled with tiny devils that each took a cruel bit out of him.  Only after 15 minutes, did the little devils die, and Corpse regained his ability to move.

He looked around his cell and there was nothing there. Just a room with a single door and a single window. No bed to sleep in, no table where he could eat not even a bucket where he could piss. His stomach rumbled as any thought of food currently made him hungry. " Should have eaten more of that old thing's paper soup, " Corpse regretted. In an attempt to distract himself from his stomach devouring itself Corpse looked outside the window. 

The view opened up to some sort of a circular open roof stage. Corpse saw several cells opposite from his own but all of them seemed empty. He looked down and his soul chilled at the sight. A massive demonic altar with a giant devil head in each of the cardinal directions. Obsidian black and surrounded by spikes it seemed to devour all of the surrounding light, but it wasn't the obsidian monstrosity that filled him with unease. There at the top of the altar, was a green chalice, ancient, desolate, and incredibly malicious. Corpse couldn't describe what was wrong with the damn thing, but he just felt it in his bones.

Corpse immediately backed away from the window, as if a ghost would try and snatch him. He didn't know what the hell was happening here, and he didn't want to find out.  

Corpse regulated his breathing and calmed down. He touched the collar around his neck, and his fingers got singed as he felt the lighting inside. His predicament changed but the solution remained the same. " If only I could regain my cultivation." The environment was far from safe but he had to try if nothing changed he would remain at the mercy of others.  " I have to try even if it's a risk. "

Corpse waited for a couple of hours before he attempted anything. He saw several patrols go by that usually consisted of two people in those same light blue robes and always more concerned with themselves rather than what happened around them.

After another hour or so of waiting, Corpse didn't see anything that would indicate that guards gave even little care what happened in any of the cells. So he got in a corner that was perpendicular to the cell's entrance and sat down in a meditative pose. He calmy breathed out and closed his eyes.

The dirty cell that reeked of ruin suddenly felt a tad bit more lively. Energy seemed to enter the room and gathered at a particular corner. Corpse slowly attempted to cultivate. Carefully, without drawing attention. Whatever guards this rotting sinkhole might have had seemed content with leaving him alone, as long he didn't draw any attention to himself. So, for now, at least Corpse had some time to try and repair his aperture. 

Corpse slowly gathered Heavenly energy from the surroundings. He inhaled bringing a strand of raw power into his body. " The energy here seems to have yin nature, " Corpse observed. From what Corpse saw of this messed up little world, that seemed to the norm here. He willed the strand of energy to revolve around his broken aperture so that he could refine it. With each second that passed, the cold strand of energy seemed to warm up and change in color. Once Corpse finished refining it he absorbed it into his aperture. That's how cultivation worked. That's how he should have become stronger, the basics of the fucking basics.  Yet after a few seconds the strand of Heavenly energy dissolved from his aperture, left his body, and returned to its Yin nature.

Corpse attempted the same thing over and over and over, and over and over and It drove him truly mad. After 4 hours of wasted effort, he finally gave up. He suddenly remembered what the old monk said about his body and he disdainfully thought, " What rarely seen power, you stupid old monk? "

Corpse let out a shaky breath and tried to calmy analyze his own condition while digging out whatever memories of cultivation he had out of his skull. Some of it seemed so deeply nailed inside his brain that he couldn't forget it even if he died.

His aperture was shattered which would currently put him at the qi solidification realm. Before reaching the first realm one counts only as a nascent cultivator and they must overcome 3 cultivation realms. Qi gathering, Qi solidification, the one Corpse was currently at, and Qi completion.

In theory, there should be nothing that stopped him from repairing his aperture, yet his body rejected the surrounding Heavenly energy. He could have a better chance with some spirit stones, the power inside them is so pure that they can be used with any and all of cultivation arts. Unfortunately, he currently was quite short on funds. and the locals didn't seem too keen on sharing.

Corpse mused that maybe he had become a mutant, but that idea quickly passed. The Qi inside the body of a mutant is so tainted that they can't sustain an aperture in any shape or form.

Corpse had many questions and none were willing to give him answers. He pressed his back against the wall after a defeated sigh, " What the hell am I supposed to do now? " He closed his eyes and mused how the situation probably couldn't get any worse, " What could be worse than being locked away like some wild animal for no reason at all? " Humiliated and powerless he declared, " This place is Hell! "

But unfortunately for Corpse Heaven was determined to prove him wrong. He was disturbed from his musings when he heard a commotion outside. He stood up and looked out of the window. Beforehand this place was as silent as a graveyard but now seemed full of life. Corpse instantly frowned. " The Hell are they doing? "

Two servants were dragging a wild zombie to the demonic altar. The unfortunate undead had a collar uncomfortably similar to the one Corpse had, only this one had two chains attached to it. The zombie wasn't a pretty sight to look at. Its torn robe revealed unhealthy yellow skin. In certain places its skin had rotten away entirely leaving nothing but dead flesh that leaked some sort of white viscous mucus, Its face with long fangs and red eyes barely resembled that of a human.

The zombie snarled and struggled, at every opportunity, it would try and claw the two servants pulling it. But every few seconds its body tensed up and contorted as small arcs of lighting escaped its collar and ran through its body. The closer the bound zombie got to the altar the more it struggled. Even its vicious snarls eventually turned into whimpers.

Corpse perked up as he heard a commotion from the neighboring cells. There was violent banging on the walls, sad whimpering, and vicious roaring. Corpse looked at the cells opposite of his and found out they weren't empty. Zombies, skeletons, drowners. All of them undead and all of them just going insane. Corpse felt uneasy, "Just why were they gathered, and more importantly what could make the undead go apeshit like this? "

The servants tied the chains around the obsidian devil heads before making themselves scarce. The zombie was bound to the front of the altar, franticly trying to escape as if a true devil had risen from the abyss to take its soul, but the chains held good. And beside's it wasn't a devil that came.

A young woman suddenly entered the stage. With a refined figure and pretty as jade. Each of her steps would steal a man's breath away, while a single look was enough to steal a soul. She was also almost completely white from head to toe. Her robe was white, her skin white and almost all of her hair was white. All but a small patch of black hair at the top of her head remained that resisted the white that surrounded it all around.

" White as a ghost! " Corpse immediately noticed how pale she was. Many of the people he saw on Myris had pale skin, but none like her, it looked like she didn't even know what sun was. She was almost as pale as Corpse. Despite her pretty appearance the closer she got to the chalice the more dread he felt.

Surrounded by unholy roars the almost white maiden got to the top of the altar. The tension in the air was palpable as she clasped that cursed chalice. She grunted in pain as long nails extend from the chalice, and pierced her hands. No blood spilled from her injuries as the nails from the chalice turned scarlet from drinking her blood. Her visage became worse and worse as the chalice siphoned her life away.

Soon foul air spilled from the cursed chalice, and the maiden did her best to free herself. She screamed in pain as the nails tried to rip the flesh from her hands. She stumbled down from the altar just as the top was engulfed in invisible filth. She took out a pill and started healing while black at the top of her hair receded giving way to more of the white. 

The undead roared with madness and fear as green smoke gathered above the demonic altar. It took form while drinking the foul air from the chalice to grow in size. The bound zombie trashed around possibly in an attempt to break its own neck, but itss bindings still held.

The green smoke soon took on a human shape. A ghastly sight indeed, a green transparent figure reminiscent of a human, but one far too unnatural to be one. With a green tattered robe and gashes throughout its already transparent body. It floated above the altar, growling and roaring at anyone and everyone, dead or alive. Its eyes held no intelligence, nothing but malice and hatred for all that exists, but with whatever little instinct it had left it was looking for something, and it stopped once it locked gazes with the bound zombie,

It floated down until it was on the same eye-level as the bound zombie. The bound zombie trembled like a leaf in the wind, while the ghost turned into a green blur and its transparent body invaded the cursed flesh of the zombie.

For a moment there was silence. Then the zombie started screaming. It creamed like somebody was splitting its soul into pieces,. " AAAAAAH!AAAAAAH!AAAAAAH! " Its head trashed from one side to the other while its limbs started bending in unnatural directions. Its screams didn't stop as the white mucus spewed out of all the zombie's orifices. Some parts of its body bulged before they formed into disgusting pustules that popped and revealed the deformed flesh underneath. These deformities spread through the zombie's body increasing in size ripping apart bigger parts of its body. Soon enough the whole stage was showered with white gore, broken limbs, and rotten innards.

In the end, the chain bound collar that previously held the zombie now had nothing but a mutilated piece of meat. Dark green smoke flowed out of the mangled piece of flesh and quietly returned to the demonic altar.

Soon after people in light blue robes swarmed the place, cleaning everything up with practiced ease. Led by Mo Wan several men came to escort the almost white maiden. Before leaving she looked at one of the cells, and locked gazes with Corpse. He didn't know what kind of face he was making, but he saw the pity in her eyes.