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The trek up the mountain was a pleasant experience. The snowy peaks glimmered under the rays of the Sun, creating a beautiful scenery to ease the burden of the backpack, armor, sword and heavy fur coat. Cunkuu was told that more knowledge, and to an extent power, could be found in the Mountain Temple, so he set off without giving it much thought. His steps, although made heavier than the thick piece of weather protective clothing, were still lighter than the stride of the average human.

As he walked up the path, a pleasant view was revealed to him. The small bit of roofing, separating the earth and the chasm beneath a wiggling rope bridge, allowed him to rest up against one of the beams for a moment. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, but the warm breath was kept in by the red, spiked mask. Cunkuu perceived the absence of movement as a strange sign. Could it be the people who lived here were resting now? Or were they always lost in a meditative state? Or were they not here?

He allowed himself to ignore those thoughts and started making his way over the wiggling, rickety old bridge. He did not look down at his feet for even a moment, opting instead to enjoy the sight of the ancient temple. He reached the stairs successfully, and began his ascent. Eventually his feet carried him to a chamber, filled, to the brim, in his opinion, with sokushinbutsu. In its center, a large field of white, completely still, sand. What caught his attention was the sitting man, who could only be a monk.

"Greetings, wise monk! I have come here to earn the knowledge held within these halls!" Greeted Cunkuu, removing his backpack and plopping it on his left.

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"You're not a monk? Why are you here then?" Asked Cunkuu, throwing a glance around the grand hall once again. The young man's mind clicked and he started thinking about what had happened here. The man before him looked quite damaged and very unhealthy. It was visible, to the armored one, that the unarmored one was unwell.

Perhaps this man had come here... With a goal in mind. A goal to ruin the ascent towards knowledge of Cunkuu. The monks here were most likely ready to teach any who asked, and so when this old husk of a man came, they taught him. After being taught by them... This man killed the monks to seal their secrets, to keep their knowledge away from the young man. It was possible, as Cunkuu had many enemies, but none were as wicked as this perceivable foe... But it could be that the unarmored one was paid off by an enemy known to the young man, as this meditating individual was unknown to the armor bearing one.

"Why are the monks dead?" He asked again. He was not waiting for an answer. His mind worked swiftly. It was obvious to the young man that there was something off about the man before him. An unfriendly air surrounded him, perceived Cunkuu.

"Was it you who killed them?" Levied the last question, and decided to allow his unaware adversary to answer.

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Cunkuu's eyes narrowed. Usually, whenever an individual asked if they had done something that they had been accused in, they had done it. The young man in search of knowledge stiffened a fist.

"If you had... I would make you reveal their secrets to me. By force or by other means." He replied and stared at the individual with a fervor. He was well aware that men like this, who asked questions as answers to other questions, were a handful, thinking they knew everything. Thinking they were so wise and important that they would rather be answered to than answer to anybody.

"So think carefully of the words you will use to answer to me!"

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"Don't threaten me, you cur!" Growled Cunkuu as his other, relaxed hand reached for the sword strapped to his back. He took great offense to being referred to as 'boy'. On top of that, this one did not answer his question in a way convenient for the young man.

Without much thought put into it, led on blindly by his emotional outburst, Cunkuu raised his right arm and parted the fingers of his fist, revealing a small sphere of whirling air, which was vibrating at intense speeds. Smoke started coming off the sphere and eventually a combustion occurred, setting the object on fire, creating a fireball.

"If you won't willingly teach me, then I will beat the knowledge out of you and take it as my own!" Shouted the young man and flung the sphere of flame. It flew towards the older man as fast as a hawk would dive from the air towards a mouse in the fields. If it connected, it would sear his skin and set his clothing on fire, potentially removing skin and muscle in an area as large as a plate.

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Cunkuu was not surprised by the way his attack was avoided. The adversary he had tried to strike down turned out to either be far less experienced, and skilled, than expected or was holding back. Both were incredibly offensive to the young man. If the case was the first, that would mean a weakling was looking down on him. If the case was the second, that would mean the singed one was either underestimating him or was trying to make himself appear weak, so that Cunkuu would let his guard down. If he was being underestimated, the young man concluded he would feel even more offended, as that meant he appeared less powerful than he truly was. If he was being deceived, he was not going to allow some disturbed man, who was unwilling to share knowledge, get the better of him.

"Neither needs to die, but then again those monks are all dead, but you live!" Retorted Cunkuu and repeated his action. Opening his palm and casting the spell. If he was allowed to finish, the fireball would fly at the exactly same velocity and in the same direction sa the previous one.

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He was taken by surprise. The speed at which his enemy had moved was far too great, and he could not react fast enough. He was not in a state of perception, and so he could not even see where his opponent's attack was coming from. He lost focus on his right hand and the spell failed spectacularly.

Cunkuu felt a wave of cold wash over his palm as the fireball exploded, igniting the air right as the hand of Shin landed on his own, fingers becoming interlocked. A wave of incredibly hot air surrounded him, and, in turn, slammed into his opponent, affecting both of them negatively. The younger man was momentarily blinded by the incredible heat and could not enter the appropriate state he would need to enter so that he could react to the speeds of his.

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As he got jerked forwards, Cunkuu managed to see the attack coming, this time at least. The spectacular speed would still be a problem, but he just visualized the protective Dome on his face, completely mitigating any attack that could be leveled at his most vulnerable point. The three inch diameter circle of dancing lightning appeared instantaneously, and it would either simply repel Shin's attack or make his fingers refuse to move for a long time, as a result of the electrical charge disturbing the nervous system of his adversary.

A lesson, Cunkuu would have snorted, but he was too preoccupied with dealing with the enemy. Even though his left hand was still wrapped around his sword, and was not lifted anywhere high enough to perform an appropriate action as a counter attack, he could make use of the ridiculously out of control spell which had flopped, due to the unexpected attack coming in by the older man.

Although his hand was somewhere underneath his belt, it was still in a position allowing him to perform a cheeky attack, which, if successful, would deal incredible damage, potentially removing one limb from the fight, and maybe from the temple. His index finger popped up, and, using the heated air around them, he generated a Laguna blaze. It was a weak one, it wouldn't outright kill Shin, but it would be capable of dismemberment. At least it would really shock his adversary. The piercing lightning would, most likely, end up striking Shin's right leg, in the quadriceps femoris.

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It had been some time since Okiron had left the regions of his people. He was now in some unknown quarter of the universe that he'd never seen or heard of before-yet it was, oddly enough, somehow familiar to him. It was a temple. But the architecture here was different than those he had seen of his home; it was larger than the average monastery.

The Spiritshaper had been trekking up towards the temple for many minutes now, meeting various sets of stone steps, naturals steps, and old, short bridges as he did so. The gusts tugging at his cloth mantle felt comfortable to him- they felt like home; as the regions of the Northern territories of his home were much like this place, if not more populated. He took the journey slow, admiring the architecture and the subtle differences it held between itself and those he was used to.

But unfortunately, he couldn't walk in place. He eventually reached what seemed to be the intended entrance to the temple, after crossing a long bridge which would merge into a set of steps that led up to said entrance. He stepped over the threshold, studying his surroundings as he walked through the cold halls of the had-been monastery, his footsteps tapping with the sound of leather against stone.

Soon enough, he heard a faint, muffled crunching sound. The only sound one would hear besides the slow footsteps, and maybe the occasional howling gust. He made his way towards the direction of the sound- that had ceased now- at his comfortable pace. He soon drew upon the chamber.

They first thing he saw was the remains of what was easily hundreds of what he assumed were corpses of monks, mummified and arrayed within the chamber of their temple. But what drew his attention more was the single figure separate from the rest. The lonely, horribly disfigured, figure. Okiron slid the pack on his back from his shoulders and gently laid it to the floor. He would examine the man from where he stood.

"I'm sure the crunching your doing is very comforting to the dead, stranger." he said, with no hint of sarcasm in his voice. He would examine the mummified corpses loosely as he did so, taking in his surroundings.

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