A Special Price That Won't Come Again
A few days later, with Heukmok leading the way, Yi Yeok arrived at the foot of a barren mountain.
He tipped his head back and studied it for a long while before speaking, low.
"A mountain all but dead."
Mountains that housed immortal sects were always thick with spiritual qi. Daelim Temple, though, sat on one that had been drained dry and was dying.
Heukmok answered with a bitter look.
"Even I never thought Daelim Temple could fall this far."
Just then a gaunt monk in filthy robes came staggering toward them, a wine bottle dangling from his hand.
"Oho, young hero! Remarkable bones, and a Buddha-nature that stands out plain as day. Come to enter our Daelim Temple, have you?"
Yi Yeok flicked him a glance.
"What's the price?"
The monk grinned.
"I do like a man who gets to the point. A lay disciple is five hundred thousand taels. An ordained disciple, one million. As good as free."
"What?"
Yi Yeok's eyes went wide. Even the fee to enter Nokhyeon Sect was only two hundred thousand.
"Daelim Temple was once the greatest of the Buddhist sects, and we still hold every sort of secret martial manual. What is a sum like that? These are arts that, as a rule, no fortune on earth could buy."
Yi Yeok narrowed his eyes.
"I walk a heretical path."
"Quite all right. Quite all right."
The monk smiled, mild as a spring day.
"Follow the Buddhist way with a true heart, and even a man-eating beast may be guided to a favorable end."
At that, Yi Yeok turned his head toward Heukmok.
"He's insulting me right now, isn't he?"
"Ah... it does seem that way."
Heukmok barely got the words out.
The gaunt monk looked at Heukmok with open interest.
"A wood spirit. It has been an age since I saw one."
Heukmok seized the hem of Yi Yeok's robe and shook. Yi Yeok shifted, putting himself between the spirit and the monk's gaze.
"This one's my subordinate. Don't get any strange ideas."
The monk laughed.
"But of course, of course. Well then—what is your thought?"
"Too steep. Honestly, I'm not sure it's worth that much."
"Not expensive in the least."
The gaunt monk draped an arm over Yi Yeok's shoulder.
"I will stake my word on it. Anywhere else—the Temple of Three Lives, say—ten million taels would not get you across the threshold. And the Temple of Three Lives cannot so much as tie our sandal-strings. Nothing but a pack of traitors who stole this sect's supreme arts and went off to raise a faction of their own."
Smooth as anything, he began steering Yi Yeok toward Daelim Temple.
"But this place is different. We will teach you properly, one to one, and if you wish it, an elder's seat can be arranged."
"Sounds an awful lot like a swindler's patter."
"One who has left the household does not lie. Young hero, you share a bond with the Buddhist path. This is a fate heaven itself has fixed. That you have come all the way here today is destiny drawing you on."
Yi Yeok set his foot on stone steps buried under a thick drift of fallen leaves, and his brow creased again.
"How long has it been since a single soul walked this mountain path?"
"To come and to go are alike empty air. There is no need to trouble oneself with a road."
The corner of Yi Yeok's mouth twitched. No one had swept the steps, and the excuse poured out smooth as clear water.
Halfway up the mountain, the whole of Daelim Temple opened before them. The roof tiles had crumbled who knew how long ago, and stretches of the walls had collapsed outright.
"That's enough. Sorry to have troubled you."
Yi Yeok ducked out from under the monk's hand.
"I'll try somewhere else."
The monk did not seem to mind in the slightest. He only grinned.
"Already too late, young hero."
"Too late?"
Yi Yeok's brow shot up.
"Don't tell me this is a hard sell. Fair warning—I hate being coerced."
The monk pursed his lips and pointed down the slope with one finger.
"Look there."
Yi Yeok followed the line of the finger to the foot of the mountain. Several monks were staring straight up at them. The moment their eyes met his, they scrambled back in a hurry.
"Who are they?"
Yi Yeok asked, genuinely baffled. The monk stretched, long and unhurried.
"Plenty of people do not wish to see Daelim Temple restored to its prime. They have confirmed your face. Whether you join us or not, they will use every method they have to kill you."
Yi Yeok's expression hardened.
"You walked me into a trap?"
"A trap? I have only told you the facts."
"Damn it, you bald bastard!"
Yi Yeok could not hold the anger in.
"Octopus-head! Don't you look down on me!"
"A moment."
The monk raised a hand and checked him.
"Hear this humble monk to the end. Did you not come to learn Daelim Temple's supreme arts? I will teach you. Pay the fee, and I will transmit whatever martial art you desire."
"Don't make me laugh. I'm leaving right now. Once I decide to go, nobody can stop me!"
The monk smiled, easy and bright.
"Young hero, you carry a sarira, do you not? The covetous will be many. You will not go three li before thousands are at your heels to kill you. Your movement art looks considerable, yet the time you can remain in the air is limited. Against so many, you will not stay ahead for long."
He studied Yi Yeok and added, unhurried:
"Do not forget. Here in the Western Regions, followers of the Buddhist way stand packed so close there is no gap left to plant a needle."
Yi Yeok stood blank for a moment, at a loss for words.
"Do not be too downcast, young hero."
The monk grinned and slung an arm around his shoulder once more.
"If you have the money, you may awaken to this sect's supreme arts. And then—who could possibly bar your way?"
Yi Yeok kept his mouth shut tight.
"Do not count it a waste. I know you for a man who seeks a higher realm, not coin."
Yi Yeok asked, eyes full of suspicion.
"And how would you know that?"
"The destruction of Eumgwerim, the fall of Namyak Temple, and the rumors of the Battle Buddha's appearance have all spread. Of course I know. That peculiar weapon in your sleeve says the same. If this humble monk may guess—you came to steal martial manuals, did you not?"
Yi Yeok took several steps back. This monk was nothing like the first impression.
"Fear not. Those who have left the world treasure compassion. I will not harm you."
Yi Yeok bit his lip, then ducked his head with an obsequious smile.
"Senior, I failed to recognize you. Please let this one time pass. I won't come here again."
"To repent a fault is a beautiful thing. A lay disciple is five hundred thousand taels. An ordained disciple, one million. To walk out of here—ten million."
Yi Yeok shouted, furious.
"Why don't you just rob me outright?"
"And is this not far simpler than robbery?"
Yi Yeok lifted a hand and drew a Dragon-Gold Silkworm Thread from the Qiankun Ring. He had already obtained a stronger Profound-Gold Thread, and had meant to sell this one off anyway.
"Will this do?"
The monk accepted it with a murmur of admiration.
"Fine. This should command a handsome price."
"Enough to see me out, then?"
"What are you saying? You have only just earned the right to become a lay disciple."
Yi Yeok shook with the sheer shamelessness of it.
"Damn it, you bald bastard. Say whatever you want—I'm leaving. I won't forget today. I've got a good memory."
But in a blink the monk was blocking his way.
"I told you. It is already too late."
He extended a hand, and a mirror appeared in the empty air. Countless people showed within it.
It was no illusion. Yi Yeok understood that the mirror was showing him the people encircling Daelim Temple.
"Funny."
Yi Yeok laughed.
"It's been a long time since anyone fleeced me this thoroughly."
"Do not lose heart. In the past hundred years, you are the first to come this far."
Yi Yeok drew a deep breath.
"A lay disciple can still learn something, I assume?"
"Of course."
The monk caught Yi Yeok's hand, and in an instant they stood at the summit.
"Sutra chanting, scripture recitation, the way of governing the mind, the way of nurturing one's nature, and even the way of ferrying souls onward. I will teach you all of it."
"Nothing else?"
"There is not."
The monk was firm.
"That is all of it."
"No martial arts?"
"Ah. There are martial arts as well."
He smiled, the look full of meaning.
"Foundations, one million. The advanced arts, ten million. The supreme arts, one hundred million taels. Which would you like to learn?"
"You damned octopus-head, quit joking!"
"I am not joking."
The monk's face was perfectly serious.
"Learn them easily, and you would be planning your escape the moment you had them, would you not?"
Yi Yeok grabbed hold of Heukmok.
"Let me go. I'll hand this one over instead. Brew him into tea, ferment him into wine—first-rate either way. If all else fails, he burns just fine as firewood."
"Master, don't abandon me! I still have so many uses!"
Heukmok wailed. The monk shook his head.
"Can a man conduct himself with so little feeling, and so little loyalty? Is this fellow not your trusted right hand?"
At once Yi Yeok drove the Treading Snow Without Trace Technique to its limit and ran.
A moment later light flared, and a colossal Buddha statue vast enough to blanket the whole mountain appeared and barred his way.
Yi Yeok swung Yojiyu. The keen edge split the statue, only for it to restore itself at once. Rage tore the shout out of him.
"What the hell do you want!"
The monk answered, perfectly calm.
"Now that you are a lay disciple of Daelim Temple, I can hardly stand by and watch you walk off to die."
"Damn it!"
"Restrain the profanity. Would you have Daelim Temple's honor sullied?"
Yi Yeok drew a long, deep breath.
"I'll hand over the sarira. Let me go."
"It belonged to the Buddhist sect from the first. Can one truly call that handing it over? You would be returning it."
The corner of Yi Yeok's mouth twitched.
In the next instant, his hand shot for the monk's throat.