Chapter 253: Hidden glory, the beginning
A long time ago, there was an ancient temple where a small order of monks lived in peace and harmony. The head monk was a kind old man who seemed to be able to find joy in even the smallest things.
The monks lived that way for many years until one day, the head monk called his first three disciples to entrust them with an important mission. He handed each of them an item. The first disciple received a intricately crafted saw. The second disciple received an ancient scroll giving off mystic light. The third disciple received a staff made from dark wood with a single golden ring inlaid at its top.
The mission they were given was to take the items and go out into the world. They should remain hidden and keep the items safe. The first disciple asked why they were doing this and when they could return.
For the first time showing a grim expression, the head monk apologized and told them that he could not tell them the reason they were given this mission. Furthermore, they were to never return and the items should be taken to the grave with them.
The three disciples accepted the mission and set out each carrying their item. They split up and traveled the world as wandering monks.
Three years went by. After hearing that the temple had been attacked, the third disciple hurried back still bearing the staff.
As he hurried towards the temple he saw the devastation that the unknown assailants had wrecked. Flames were everywhere, the forest beside the temple was still ablaze while the temple was already burnt to ruins with only embers remaining.
The corpses of his fellow monks littered the floor. At the back of the temple, he found the head monk still alive. Whip marks crisscrossed all over the old man's body as his chest kept heaving in shallow breaths.
The third disciple hurried to the head monk's side and wanted to help the old man. However, as he was being touched, the old monk's eyes shot open and he pushed the disciple away.
He scolded the third disciple for being a fool and returning despite being told not to. The disciple was dumbstruck when the incensed head monk revealed the truth. An evil lord had gotten wind of the secret sealed in the temple. It was the secret to becoming an immortal!
In a bid to keep the three items needed to achieve immortality away from the evil lord, the three disciples had been sent out. However, the evil lord was cunning, after attacking the temple, he let the news of it spread to draw the disciples back. And he had succeeded in drawing one of them into his trap.
The head monk looked grim as footsteps approached from far away. He looked at his disciple and issued a new mission. The third disciple was to escape with all his might, find his fellow disciples and become an immortal.
The three items granted only one chance at immortality. If that chance was used up by one of the disciples, the evil lord would be unable to do anything about it.
Thus, the third disciple attempted to flee the trap set by the evil lord. However, he was gravely injured and about to be caught. In a desperate attempt to keep the staff out of the evil lord's grasp, the third disciple threw himself off a cliff and into the raging rivers coursing below it.
When the third disciple woke up, he was lying on a straw mat, his wounds bandaged and the staff still clutched in his hand. However, he could tell that despite the efforts made to heal his wounds, he was still dying.
His savior, an old man clad in a tattered monk garb sat next to him, meditating peacefully. Noticing the wounded disciple stir, the old monk opened his eyes.
He was once a monk of the same temple as the third disciple. He had been born with an incredible thirst for knowledge, leading him to break into the secret library of the temple. He was found, caught and subsequently expelled from the temple. He was left to wander the world as a lone monk.
Images of what had happened flitted past the old monks eyes as he checked on the third disciple's wounds. Both knew that death was already lying in wait for the wounded disciple.
The third disciple knew about the old monks past, despite that, he began to tell him all about the staff and the evil lord's plan to use it to become an immortal evil.
The old monk smiled knowingly. He had entered the secret library and knew the rough circumstances of the three items. Seeing that the old monk knew of the staff, the third disciple relayed the head monk's last mission to him. He begged the old monk to complete the mission in his stead.
Speaking so much had exhausted the third disciple and he lay dying. Considering it a dying man's request, the old monk could not refuse. As the third disciple drew his last breath, he released the staff that had been tightly gripped in his hand.
The old monk performed the parting rites for the deceased disciple and took the staff. Right at that moment, two soldiers broke through the thicket. Their katana's gleamed in the morning sun and their ferocious visages promised nothing but violence and bloodshed.
They were here for the immortal sealing staff. The old monk gazed at them coldly before assuming a combat stance.
"I have been away from the temple from a long time. Living alone and wandering about teaches you a few tricks to defend your life. Let us see if this old monk can remember how to fight."
A bunch of words appear around the old monk. What do they mean?
Wait! Why are the soldiers attacking? I don't know what buttons to press! No, the old monk is dying! I'll just press a button. Don't jump into the blade! Noooooo!
<Guess you better learn how to read>
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