North of the Xia Kingdom sat a vast mountain range. Green peaks covered in green thickets lay on verdant earth, standing tall and proud in ethereal beauty despite being enshrouded by a stubborn veil of white mist.
In a certain mountain lay a cobblestone path leading to an ancient temple. A large courtyard, it appeared, surrounding a pagoda suspended above a pond.
Pervading the air was a profound silence, though it was a silence neither eerie nor unsettling, but instead peaceful.
The temple itself looked worn out, its walls cracked in some areas, leaving gaps where vegetation and moss grew uninterrupted. Bells that had lost their golden sheen hung on the edges of curved roofs, their colors now closer to a rusted brown than yellow.
But even age could not hide this temple's past glory.
Great stone sculptures of Buddhas and esteemed monks lined the stone walls of the temple, their delicate details withstanding even time itself testament to the great skill of the one who had carved them.
An old orange-robed monk sat in the center of the pagoda, cross-legged, seemingly in meditation. The man's face, where no single area was not covered by deep wrinkles, looked almost as ancient as the temple itself, but it was not lacking in vigor.
Perhaps he was more lively than most youth.
He had long white eyebrows which drooped down on its edges, and a similarly white beard reaching down to his chest.
This old ascetic was Monk Yazu, the current leader of the forgotten Divine Order. Once glorious, having been home to hundreds of thousands of revered practitioners, it had now been pushed to the edge of the world by similarly great powers afraid of its influence.
Now, it had less than ten members left.
A handsome young monk, appearing to be around eighteen, wearing similar robes approached the pagoda, using the elaborate stone bridge laid out above the pond. Draped around his neck was a necklace of twelve wooden beads.
He had no dots on his forehead, though, and unlike Monk Yazu, the youth did not emit any special air. His demeanor, too, was quite different than what one would expect of a monk.
Baesol's eyes widened as harsh winds suddenly emerged, blowing his face. Tendrils of luminous golden smoke, glowing like fireflies, appeared, surrounding Monk Yazu.
"Congratulations on breaking through the sixth realm," the young monk, Xiuying, said.
The golden smoke abruptly spread out, disappearing as quick as it appeared. Monk Yazu opened his eyes, suffusing out of which was a white radiance, almost blinding.
The ascetic let out a cough and smiled. "Thank you," he said. "Perhaps you'll be able to reach this realm one day, Xiuying."
"I doubt it," Xiuying replied. "The sixth realm of the Holy Samsara scripture is not a trivial feat. And my affinity with Holy arts is...lacking. Even if I end up reaching it-"
"You'll already be old?" said Monk Yazu, smiling. "You gain a hundred years once you reach this realm, child. What does it matter if you are old? I myself… nevermind, this is not why I called you here."
The old monk took a deep breath and flicked his sleeve. In a flash, a black book, appearing as though it had gone through hell and back appeared in his hand. On it were red runes emitting an eerie glow that made one's skin crawl.
He held it up and spoke, his tone turning serious, "This is the Ten-Thousand-Deaths sutra," he said, "a wicked thing. We kept it for research but we can't do that anymore. Both righteous and demonic are eyeing it now. They just remembered about it, it seems."
"Then-"
"That's right. We must get rid of this," the monk said. His grip on the book tightened, and his hands, along with the book, went up in flame. It was an intense flame, one hot enough for Xiuying, who was a few steps away, to feel its great heat.
A second passed before the fire disappeared, but the book was still there, with no traces of being burnt. It was as though the fire was not there. "I've tried everything," the monk ruefully smiled.
Xiuying furrowed his brows. "Should I take it away from the temple?"
"Yes, that's what I was about to ask. But you mustn't give it to any sect. Righteous and Demonic… are all the same. What I'm about to say, I'll only say once, so listen. Far south, far and even down further south than the Golden peaks is a great pit. An endless hole."
"I understand," Xiuying replied without letting the monk finish as though implying he already knew what he was about to say.
The monk nodded. "It's good that you do. But it's a long journey, child, and a dangerous one, at that. You must be careful."
"Ofcourse," said Xiuying.
The monk let out a rueful smile. "I'm sorry for doing this to you. I'd go myself, but this breakthrough was untimely…"
Xiuying scanned the old monk before grabbing the sutra out of his hands. "Don't," he said, "you also have to protect the temple. If anything happens to you-"
"I get it, child."
Xiuying nodded. He glanced at the book in his hands, unable to hide his curiosity. "This…"
"Don't open it. No matter what. Once you read a single sentence, you'll have to cultivate it to the end, or else you'll die a painful death from convulsions. Our ancestors learned this the hard way."
"Weren't we researching it? If we can't read-"
"Great experts can. We had great experts back then. Many of them. But not anymore." The monk looked at the youth and smiled. "The sixth realm is not enough. That's all you need to know."
Xiuying nodded. He opened his mouth, but before words could come out the earth shook.
The rusted bells hanging on the edges of the roof chimed. Birds from the surrounding forest flew and scattered in every direction. The oldest parts of the temple moved right and left as though on the verge of collapse. The cracks enlarged and the water underneath rippled to form waves.
"What-"
Monk Yazu's expression turned ashen. "Xiuying, you must leave. Now." The monk sat up and flicked his sleeve, summoning the tendrils of luminous golden smoke he had dispersed earlier to surround him once again.
He flicked his sleeve again, and a gigantic, golden dharma wheel emitting a holy air appeared behind him, floating.
Loud footsteps echoed in the distance, far yet somehow loud, too. A great voice resounded. "Monk, hand over th-"
But before the voice could finish, Monk Yazu flicked his sleeve once more, sending a golden wind to envelope Baesol, blowing him a vast distance away at unprecedented speed along with a cloth-wrapped package.
Baesol's eyes widened. He passed by mountains, leaving a blazing trail of intense winds which blew the forest leaves as he went. "Leader!" he shouted, but even he could not hear his voice. The wind had swallowed it whole.
The distance between Baesol and the temple widened. It shrunk and shrunk until he could not see it anymore. It was gone.
Green mountains below and clouds above blew by. He was going fast, he knew, definitely, but perhaps due to the distance between him and everything else, the scenery passed by at a speed slower than he had expected.
It was at a pace that let him admire the passing view. But even if the speed let him admire the scenery and relax, the situation did not. He had never gone through such a situation before.
The young monk grit his teeth, revealing an expression one would never believe could appear on a bald monk in orange robes.
He turned his head, fighting the resistance of wind, slowly. In the distance, though, was mere forest. Green unending. He scanned around, his pupils finally landing on fumes of smoke far in the distance, at an angle slightly right.
Then, the golden wind enveloping him began to disperse, slowly but visibly. His pace continued to decrease.
The passing clouds went by slower and the trail of wind he left behind weakened. He could also feel himself drop down, steadily declining in altitude.
It only took a few seconds before he was right above the forest. Despite his declining speed, though, the closer he got to the ground, the faster his vision blew by.
Extending his feet, he could feel leaves brushing his skin, slightly painful. Looking down, he could see some shrubs and bird nests.
The cloud continued to decline along with him.
It lowered once again, pushing his body to the embrace of leaves and branches. He could feel some branches crunch as he broke through, leaving shallow scars on himself.
He was inside the forest, now. The golden cloud was mostly gone, with only some particles of damp gold floating around.
But he was still flying at a decent pace.
He looked forward. Right ahead was a tree, its trunk thick and steady. He could not change the direction of the cloud…
The young monk clenched the package Monk Yazu had given along with his teeth and braced for impact.