Yan Zaizen kept channeling his soul essence into the red vortex, its aura permeating throughout the world. With his soul cultivation as the foundation, he was building his own Hell. When completed, the base would be considered the First Level of the Hell Altar. Unlike the nine floors of a Heavenly Shrine, a Hell Altar went up to eighteen levels, and the strongest level was at the lowest part of the Hell Altar.

While he felt a surge of exhaustion enter his soul, he kept his mind vigilant. Within his amber-gold eyes was light effusing a profound Dao and Heavenly Aura. His Heavenly Dao Seed was being used at this moment, its aura pulsing out.

"With this, the condensation of my Hell Altar should be concealed from the Heavenly God's Laws." He didn't let up infusing his soul essence, and with each strand entering the vortex, he continued to grow weaker. 

This was not his original body or soul, thus the resilience and abundance of soul essence wasn't much. He had to risk his clone's soul in hopes of providing another contingency for his original body. If he didn't, he wouldn't feel at ease.

Since arriving in this world, regaining his memories, he had felt a sense of loss and vulnerability. This was partly due to his own weakness, but mostly because of his lack of insurance in the form of a Prophetic Instinct. Since young, he had always been a Non-Entity and lived with it.

Unfortunately, the Non-Entity traits were limited to his true body, and not this one. It was as if the guardian angel of his life had been taken away, locked in the endless abyss. How could he feel secure?

Lin Feilin flew downwards, arriving beside Old Man Bo as she stared at the gigantic severed head at the bottom of the chasm. "Is this the Dead Soul? The Infernal Deity?!" Her words were spoken softly, but the shock was unable to be concealed.

Old Man Bo was similarly shocked and his mind and focus was deeply invested in observing the head. It was as if his soul had been ensnared and bewitched. The frozen images of wretched spirits trying to claw out of that head's eyes while it cried silver tears had left a deep imprint on his soul.

"Yes. It is," Yan Zaizen answered. He had sent the last bit of needed soul essence into the vortex. His normally bright and energetic countenance looked drained and somewhat dry. He had been exhausted, and even traces of his soulforce for this clone had been sent into the vortex. He had to ensure the most sturdiest of foundations, so that it may transform into a powerful base for his Infernal Path.

Lin Feilin looked at the exhausted-looking Yan Zaizen and felt a thumping of her heart. A surge of concern and pain emerged in her eyes as she flew over. "Are you okay?" 

Yan Zaizen smiled and comforted her with assurances. His weakness was temporary, and furthermore, his soul cultivation wasn't important for his plans. For this endeavour, only the Herculean Path and Infernal Path were his options. If his soul energy could've helped, how could his original soul be trapped?

"Let's go." Yan Zaizen used his vital energies to coat his body and flew away. He wasn't fast or steady, but he maintained a passive expression. Lin Feilin's concern only increased when she witnessed this.

The only time she had seen Yan Zaizen like this was on that fateful day where he nearly cultivated himself to death in the Eight Extremes Mountain Range, their base of operation. She bit her soft lips and flew after him.

Old Man Bo was ensnared by the sights, but when Yan Zaizen arrived next to him, his eyes flashed an amber-gold light for a brief moment and he regained his sanity and sense. Deeply shocked, he looked around and saw Yan Zaizen and Lin Feilin fly away.

After stumbling a bit, he hastily followed. 

Yan Zaizen felt even more tired. He couldn't even use his soul cultivation to extricate Old Man Bo from his situation, but had to rely on the latent Dao energy within his body accumulated from the year of cultivation to do so. Luckily, that was possible or Old Man Bo would've lost his soul to this head.

As for the head, it already seemed more transparent as the seconds passed. Yan Zaizen had taken away its soul energy fuel, so it was going to rapidly dissipate and truly experience death. Whether it'll go into the reincarnation cycle of the Heavens or Hell, even he didn't know.

Three days later.

Yan Zaizen was meditating on the main deck of the skyship. In a realm like the Xiantu Realm, a minor realm, its resources were little and insignificant. Yan Zaizen had to rely on his own efforts to convert the essence of Heaven and Earth into soul energy. This type of conversion had a tremendous loss. 

Firstly, he had to refine the essence into soul energy, and then into his own soul essence. This two-fold refinement caused great loss, and without the Black Hole, and the sparse environment of the Xiantu Realm, he hadn't even recovered a single percentage of his lost soul essence yet.

It was tiring. If he kept at it, it'll take two hundred years to fully recover. Normally, he could use time laws to accelerate this, but with his original body, insights, and Heavenly Shrine elsewhere, how could he gain access to such a luxury?

Therefore, he had only one option in hopes this drained state was temporary:

The Anima Syndicate!

"We're here!" Old Man Bo announced.

"Bark! Bark!" 

Yan Zaizen's originally shut eyes snapped open, but unlike before, his amber-gold eyes were dim and without much presence. His soul was too exhausted to exert his normal exuberant state. The soul was the driving force for all sorts of powers, including his Dao. 

At his right, a red glow the size of a baseball was floating beside him calmly. This was his Hell Altar. It hadn't obtained a true form yet, lacking shape, but the Infernal Energy was already condensed and gathered. It simply required one more step.

Similar to Heavenly Shrines, the design of it was usually determined by its cultivator. When he was in the Asura Phantom Realm, he saw a legitimate Hell Altar shaped as its name, an altar with multiple levels. However, that was the standard form.

For example, Yan Zaizen's Heavenly Shrine is a pyramid, but he had seen pagodas, swords, even rivers. 

From the onset, he needed to make a completed outline with all eighteen levels. Then and only then can he be considered an Infernal Forger. Furthermore, this was an external object until he completed it, absorbed it into his soul and became an Infernal Immortal.

Of course, whether he could reach that level was unsure.

With the Anima Syndicate near, he decided to, well, decide. He had two options he was keen to. 

First Option: A Hell Altar in the shape of a pyramid, a mirror-like representation of his Heavenly Shrine. By making every floor two levels, he could establish a balance.

This option was simple and direct. However, he felt unsatisfied. The Infernal Path and Heavenly Path may seem like opposites, but he didn't think so. He felt that the Fiendgod Path was the more direct opposite of the Infernal Path, so doing it like this lacked originality and felt like he was pushing an agenda.

Second Option: Hell Armor!

Yes, a construct of eighteen pieces.

Yan Zaizen felt more satisfied with this option. This armor would be constructed with eighteen pieces: two boots, two shinguards, two gloves, two bracers, two shoulderpads, body armor, leggings, helmet, two curved horns atop the helmet, and two wings.

This only totalled seventeen, but the final one would be the connective frame, merging then all into a single whole! Each piece would be the embodiment of Hell, an expression of infernal power.

The more he thought about this, the more he felt certain. His image of an Infernal, a warrior of Hell, was of this. Since he would one day venture into Hell, and if need be, slaughtering his way to Pinaka, he was even more enthused.

His eyes blazed with endless inspiration and blazing flames of passion. With a thought, the red blow seemed to respond and brighten. Slowly but surely, it was forming his mental image, forging itself into a Hell!