He could feel something deep within him, something new — a tiny ember, faint and fragile, yet filled with a strange vitality.
The beginning of his soul’s cultivation.
The first step on a path that no ordinary cultivator dared walk.
He trembled, part fear, part awe.
"Why... why me?" he whispered into the endless mist.
Only the endless silence... and the promise of a power that defied heaven itself.
Han Yu slowly stood, the mist swirling around his legs.
He didn’t understand everything yet.
He didn’t know what dangers lay ahead.
But he knew one thing.
He had been given a second chance.
A chance not just to live... but to rise beyond everything that had once chained him.
His eyes, once dazed and lost, now burned with a cold, focused light.
Han Yu took his first step forward — into the unknown.
Into the Undying Destiny Severance.
Han Yu floated in the void, his thoughts swirling, his mind still grappling with the overwhelming flood of knowledge that had been thrust upon him. The Undying Destiny Severance was an intricate, ancient technique, more complex than anything he had ever imagined.
At first, it felt like he was holding a treasure chest — its contents so vast, so rich, that his soul could barely comprehend it. But no matter how much he strained, only fragments of the technique became clear, slipping through his grasp like sand through his fingers.
He was stuck with only the first part.
"I can only remember the first part," he muttered, disoriented, as he floated aimlessly in the endless fog of his mind. "Why can’t I access the rest?"
A burst of sharp pain shot through his head, and the fragmented knowledge seemed to blur and twist before him like a half-formed dream. He felt like he was being tested, pulled in every direction at once, but unable to hold onto anything solid.
The first part, however, was still clear. The first fragment of information that had been imprinted onto his soul — the Soul Qi.
Han Yu’s eyes snapped open, or at least they felt open, though he was still surrounded by the ethereal mist. He concentrated. He reached deep within, trying to summon the Soul Qi, to begin the process of cultivation.
Normally, Soul Qi was something nearly impossible to gather for an ordinary cultivator. It could only be obtained through grueling trials or by rare and precious resources. Some even said that Soul Qi could only be drawn from the death or despair of others.
But the Undying Destiny Severance... it was different.
It promised him something more.
Han Yu flexed his will and focused, but nothing came. He could feel the potential, the ability, but he couldn’t make it work.
"Why can’t I?" he thought.
The memories within him told him that Soul Qi wasn’t something that could be easily collected. His mind wandered, piecing the puzzle together, but there was a missing piece.
Suddenly, it clicked.
"I need a body," he realized. "The Soul Qi... it needs a body to cultivate it properly. But I don’t even have a body right now! How can I...?"
He paused in horror. Without a body, how could he ever cultivate? He had been so focused on the technique that he hadn’t even considered this simple yet crucial fact. It was a contradiction!
Frustration bubbled within him, but then a new fragment of knowledge surfaced from the depths of his mind.
The Undying Destiny Severance wasn’t just about gathering Soul Qi. There was another part — something far more profound, something tied directly to life and death itself.
The Undying Life Charm.
Han Yu’s heart skipped a beat.
The Undying Life Charm was a powerful skill — a creation skill. It allowed him to create a charm that could prevent death itself. It was said that anyone who used this charm could escape death, and if they had already died, the charm would bring them back to life.
It was a resurrection of sorts.
But there were limitations. Only one Undying Life Charm could be created at once, and only with a vast amount of resources — Soul Qi, rare materials, and an immense understanding of the technique. It was a temporary safeguard against death, not immortality itself.
Most importantly, it needed a mark that linked it to something, a location where the resources were, the place they would be revived in. Han Yu certainly hadn’t made one, since he never knew of the technique before.
However, Han Yu had a strange feeling. He didn’t know why, but something in his gut told him that he could make it work. Perhaps because the memories were directly implanted into him, or perhaps it was his first time, he felt like he could do it.
Despite knowing that he didn’t have the necessary materials, Han Yu’s instincts surged forward. He gathered what little Soul Qi he could from within himself, although it was minuscule compared to what would be required. These wisps of Soul Qi were naturally present in everyone and now Han Yu was using them.
If a living cultivator were to try this, he would die instantly, their soul perishing and their path into the afterlife cut. But Han Yu was now dead and that didn’t matter.
The fragments of memories within his mind told him to visualize the charm — to create it, no matter how faint or incomplete.
Han Yu focused his mind, his spirit, his will, on the creation of the charm. He reached deep within the fog, trying to pull together the techniques, the symbols, the inscriptions that he saw in his mind. He imagined the charm glowing with a faint, shimmering light — a symbol of life, a tether that held onto existence.
The energy inside him stirred, faint but powerful. Han Yu could feel it. He could feel the charm taking shape, a soft pulse in his chest as though the very concept of life and death were being sewn together with threads of his soul.