Breakthrough, Heart Devils

The ice phoenix within his palm was even bigger than what their 'Patriarch' had shown. It stood majestically in his palm and with a simple wave of a hand, it blasted towards the corpse. In mere seconds, a dark blue light shone as ice enveloped it.

The power of the freezing cold. The perfect ability to wield in a zombie apocalypse. Han's grin didn't dissipate at all as he started to emit a cold freezing aura. Shards of ice started to wrap around his body, it started from his chest then spread out to his limbs until it reached his head, covering it completely except for his dull green eyes. He flexed his fingers and joints, it was as if he was simply wearing cloth. Ice armor, enough to deflect blades and teeth, but with bullets, well, he hadn't tried yet.

While he may be unsure of its capabilities to withstand guns, it was still a fucking fine ability. In his hand, a sword of ice started to solidify, and with a single slash, he cut the corpse into two pieces that shattered into many as it landed on the ground. Not only did he find an alchemist woman, but he also attained Frozen Nirvana. Going into the prison was quite a fortunate endeavor.

The armor wrapped around his body started to dissipate as he was running out of energy, however, the sword remained. This was because his sword had already been solidified while he had to keep his armor in a state of materialization. Ice wasn't flexible, if he made the armor the same way he did with the sword then he would have gotten a big chunk of ice armor that couldn't bend at all.

He had accumulated enough energy to achieve a breakthrough, luckily, this newfound ability has given him a way to do so.

Han erected an iron maiden made of ice. It was time to achieve level two martial warrior. While he may have achieved full comprehension of the Frozen Nirvana given to him, his body merely has the energy of a level 1 martial warrior. If he can achieve level two then he can at least wear his armor for an hour or two.

But before he proceeded to poke holes into himself, he froze the door. Seeing an iron maiden made of ice in his room wasn't something he can explain after all.

Once the door was secured he entered the iron maiden. He stood with his palms crossed between his chest and started circulating his blood the masochist way, it boiled and churned as the circulation sped up. Like millions of needles prickling into his bones, the blood inside him went livid. It shook up Han's insides until he felt the familiar feeling of resistance.

It was time to release the accumulated waste. With a swipe of his hands, the iron maiden closed and his body met the cold kiss of the spikes of ice.

*****

In between the clouds was a majestic mountain cradling a glorious sect. Various structures radiating honor and dignity were constructed all over, anyone who could see them would be awed. Thousands of disciples strolled about the plaza, and they were all minding their own business. Doing their sect duties, sparring with fellow disciples, discussing with elders and such. This was the Gallant Sect. No internal conflicts ever occurred here, it resembled paradise.

However, if one looked closely, there was a rundown shack hidden by the clouds. It barely dangled beside a cliff on the mountain and due to the garbage dumped around, it would have appeared like a dumpsite. A boy with black hair sat along the edge of the cliff, wondering if ever there was a god.

"Hey, trash! Catch!" A voice said from above,

Before the boy could react he was struck by a bag of garbage. The impact made him fall off the edge, and he hung on for dear life. His fellow disciples were laughing at him as they pointed.

"Go on! Let go! Death's a blessing for trash like you!"

"I even gave him a warning and yet he couldn't even dodge, what a joke!"

"Oh no! He's climbing back up! Haha!"

The boy rolled on the ground, breathing heavily. His eyes watered, but he smothered his tears as his fellow disciples were still watching him. He wanted them to go, to leave him before they push him to the edge of his sanity. Eventually, after pissing all over his rundown shack they left and he was left with nothing but himself again. Living to get pissed on another day. He thought he was blessed to be taken to a sect, but just like everything in his life, it was a joke by the heavens. His 'master' promised to train him to the peak, however, it's been years since he last saw him. With no master, they took advantage of him and sent him here, as the 'disciple' who makes sure the trash isn't scattered below the mountain. Trash taking care of trash they said.

Indeed, this was not living at all. Death would be a blessing. With tears gushing out from his eyes, he stood to rush to his shack to fetch a rusty sword. He took it and stood in the middle of his garden of garbage, he wanted to leave his body here so if anyone sees it they would feel pity. However, he stopped himself. No one would feel pity for him, instead, he risks getting his body desecrated by trash and piss. It would be better if he just disappeared never to be seen again.

He glanced at the edge of the cliff, and with his sword in hand, ran forward, and tripped. He fell flat with his face on the floor. On his foot was the garbage bag that struck him from earlier, it was tied loosely enough that he could see a scarlet tablet sitting beside rotten meat. There was nothing appealing about the reeking tablet, but he felt something pull him towards it. He opened up the bag, picked up the tablet and his eyes went wide in shock.

It was a body enhancement method. Its introductory words were, 'Go mad from weakness, or go mad from tyrannical power.'

The boy continued to read it and he felt a sense of excitement. Inscribed within the tablet was something only a lunatic would believe, a lunatic or someone with suicidal tendencies. Well, luckily, he was one of both. If he didn't get stronger, then he would be better off dead. The edge of his rusty sword swiftly met his pale soft skin. Blood started to burst out of his wounds, yet he didn't halt. Again and again, he slashed and when he felt resistance, or rather, weakness from his body, he tried circulating his blood rapidly. However, nothing happened.

"Holy shit! He actually cut himself! He read that tablet you made and cut himself!"

"What a dumbass!"

He died, and the last thing he saw was his tormentors up above laughing at his foolishness.

*****

Han fell off the iron maiden and choked out blood as he kept his blood in rapid circulation. The process wasn't over yet and he almost lost his concentration. Buckets of black goo were still spilling from the gaping holes of his body, it splashed on the floor leaving a foul sour aroma. Han shut off his thoughts as he focused on claiming more energy from the world. The energy was sucked in the holes of his wounds, and rapidly the flesh started regrowing. But he didn't stop there.

Han forcefully claimed energy from the world and infused it within his blood to boost his growth within the following days. Once his body couldn't handle more, he mended his wounds and waited for the energy to assimilate with his being. When Han opened his eyes, a pulse of energy was let loose around him, it made the black goo and blood on the floor ripple.

Han should have gotten to cleaning, but he simply stared at the air. He almost failed a breakthrough.

It was heart devils, his internal demons. It's been a long time since he last saw these old devils that he shackled in the depths of his heart, he didn't think they were still there. That day was when he found The Masochist's Avatar, it wasn't a joke at all, it was real. He begun rising up the ranks, he began regaining his tenacity, it was the start of his journey to power. And yet the heart demons found a way to twist it using his scorn for the heavens. The Masochist's Avatar, it must've been made by a mad cultivator. Usually, there's a limit to how much pain a body can feel, but this method overloads it. The pain reaches levels beyond human comprehension, however, the power it gives was tempting. It had always bothered Han that it was some kind of trick by the heavens, a curse disguised as a blessing. Were the heavens watching him right now as he torments himself for power? Do they laugh and sneer at this man who's so desperate for power that he...

Han stilled, he had to stabilize his mental state. He should wait for a few days or weeks before trying to level up again. A strong body would be useless with a broken mind.

'The heavens don't exist. I, and only I am able to control my fate.'

Han repeatedly thought, then he shook his head as he got up. With a sigh, he froze the mixture of black goo and blood on the floor. Once frozen, he picked up the solid mixture and threw it in a trashcan. The iron maiden and the ice sword dissipated in thin air and everything was back to it's previous state.

He glanced at the bed before him, and for the first time in centuries, he felt the need to sleep not due to exhaustion but due to a willingness for peace.

Tomorrow, he'll be relishing in the feeling of achieving level 2 martial warrior, perhaps he'll even vent out his dissatisfactions some way, but for now, just sleep.

'Can't wait to get laid and drink again.'