Abbot Hwang and Yuan walked in the dense forest of bamboo and trees. Myriad leaves glistened brightly. Even more leaves lay scattered on the forest floor. The air was moist and hazy. The scenery was majestic and in other circumstances, Yuan would have taken time to appreciate it. Yet, being forced into a Buddhist monastery, he was in no mood for sightseeing. Abbot Hwang, on the other hand, was joyous. He was smiling and singing.

"What is so joyous?!" Yuan finally snapped.

Hwang laughed. "Leading someone evil to the path of virtuousness is always joyous."

Yuan sighed. 'I lose so much time in following a stupid monk when I should be heading to Mount Kunlun!' he thought. 'If the Dark Lord is awakened and the Orthodox Sects do not have the Flaming Medallion needed to face him, it will be his fault. Not to say that I will not be able to kill that bastard Emperor and get justice!'

"You know," Hwang said, "the path to repentance is a difficult one. I applaud you for trying to turn over a new leaf for it will be an arduous task to do so. In the monastery, you will have to chant scripts for six hours every day, copy holy texts, sweep the temple's floor and cook and much more. If you follow the instructions of your elders, you might attain enlightenment in eighty or ninety years."

"Ninety years?!" Yuan repeated. "Ninety years?!"

Hwang grinned. "What? Did you expect to join the monastery for a year or two and then return to a life of pleasure? No! In order to repent, you will have to spend your entire life in that monastery. Make no mistake; all of the monks there are martial arts experts, so do not expect to be able to flee nor will anyone have the guts to save you."

'Damn!' Yuan thought. 'This damn monk will single-handedly doom the entire world. I do hope that the Flaming Medallion is not needed anytime soon…'

"Praise Him!" a voice was heard saying.

"Who is talking?" Yuan asked.

Hwang shushed him. "Do not talk," he whispered. "Follow me."

Hwang and Yuan stealthily moved forward. They saw that a man was sitting on the ground, bowing towards the north. Before he could see them, they took cover behind a large tree. The man was chanting some weird prayer; "Praise the Dark Lord. May He come to liberate our souls. May He come to cleanse this dirty world. May He come to destroy the old. May He come to put an end to all sins. Praise the Dark Lord!"

The man then got up and walked away. Jing was baffled by this man's prayers. Hwang was contemplating about it. He looked worried.

"Who was he?" Yuan asked.

"I…."

Hwang paused for a moment. He was in disbelief. He took a deep breath. "I've heard about the Demonic Cult before but I thought that it had been exterminated hundreds of thousands of years ago. It seems that they are gathering strength once more."

"He is of the Demonic Cult?"

"It seems so. The Demonic Cult was a cult of fanatics who believed that the world was corrupt and sinful; that all life was impure. They wanted the destruction of the entire world and the extermination of mankind. They thought that the only way they could achieve this was by reviving the Dark Lord Ye Guang. Only he can destroy the entire world. I thought that they had all been killed and that the Cult was extinct, but it seems I was wrong."

The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Elder Rong was gazing at the pond with its flowering lily pads. Birds chirped. The fragrance of flowers filled the air. It was truly a beautiful day! Yet Rong was in no mood to appreciate it. Yao and Jing were supposed to have already returned to Mount Kunlun but neither of them had shown up. 'Where are they?', he wondered. He was anxious and afraid that something unfortunate may have befallen them. Yang Jing was his first disciple in more than twenty thousand years. He had shown both great promise in martial arts and the understanding of the Daoist texts as well as filial piety and respect towards his elders. Even though he was against the seeking of revenge, Rong admired Jing's devotion to seeking justice for his clan against all odds. As such, the elder viewed Jing as if he was his own son.

A disciple rushed to the garden and bowed before Rong. "Elder, Qing Yao has returned and is waiting for you in the Main Hall!"

Rong at once rushed to the Main Hall. He was both joyous to know that Yao and Jing had returned but also anxious to hear if they had been successful in their task. When he entered the hall, Yao bowed before him. Rong noticed his bandaged shoulder. He quickly helped him get up and asked, "What happened?"

"I…. We…"

Rong also noticed that Jing was nowhere in the hall. "Where is Jing? What happened to him?"

Yao sighed. "Alas, he did not make it…."

Rong felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart by a knife. His eyes became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As he blinked, they dripped from his eyelids and slid down his cheeks. He remembered when he first met Jing, when they were training together, when he was teaching him how to meditate. The memories he had of him were sharp and cut right through him. Even the good moments had turned into a knife, piercing his soul. "How? How did this happen?"

Yao sighed. He then recounted how they met Elder Huo, how he presented them the Flaming Medallion and then how they faced that Demon.

"I was stabbed in the shoulder by that Demon and then I fainted. When I woke up the next morning, I was lying on the bed of one of the villagers. He had been kind enough to take me in and bandage my wounds. I then found the lifeless body of Jing, lying on the dirt road. I searched for the medallion but it was nowhere to be found; it seems that the Demon must have taken it."

Rong suddenly coughed and vomited blood.

"Elder!" Yao cried.

"It's…it's all right," he calmly said. Rong was devastated; not only had his disciple died but the Flaming Medallion was now most likely in the hands of the Demonic Cult. If they found out how to use it or managed to revive the Dark Lord, then the entire world would be doomed.

His face was pale. It was deprived of all emotions. He silently walked out of the hall. He was defeated. He was tired. He felt, for the first time in tens of thousands of years, weak; helpless.

Xiao lay on the grass in the garden. He was sitting beside a peach blossom tree, drinking wine from a jar. He swallowed hard, willing his eyes to remain dry. He was passing by the hall when Yao was recounting his duel with the Demon and had overhead about Jing's death. He still couldn't believe it. 'Only a few days ago, he was drinking wine with me…' he thought. 'He was so full of life, of energy. He laughed, he joked, he was passionate.'

As minutes passed by, he drank more and more wine. He wanted to get drunk, to forget everything. If a sad man got drunk, then he could forget his pain. He could let go of his worries and escape from this world. Those who are drunk are transferred to a world of dreams, a world where they are free of all worries and of all of their troubles. Jing, of course, knew that this would not bring Jing back to life and that he would have to face his death eventually; yet, he did not want that moment to come now. Xiao and Jing had been best friends for years. Xiao could not simply just accept Jing's death.

Yao walked towards him. He sat on the grass beside him and said, "Can you give me a jar?"

"Sure!" Xiao said and threw at him a jar of wine.

Yao grabbed it and took deep gulps of wine. "I have to be honest; I did not see eye to eye with Jing. Yet, now that he is dead, I regret some of the words I said to him. He was a good guy. He did not deserve to die!"

"Alas… the will of the Heavens is unknown. Man proposes, Heaven disposes!"

Yuan and Abbot Hwang, after almost a whole day of arduous marching, managed at last to reach the monastery. Lingjiu Monastery was surrounded by woods. It had seven main halls and ten other halls around, with several yards around the halls. The monastery was constructed almost exclusively of wood. Columns and lintels supported large and gently curved cyan colored roofs.

As the Abbot and Yuan walked into the monastery, they found it to be surprisingly quiet. There wasn't a single person to be found.

"Strange..." Hwang remarked.

As they walked forward, they suddenly saw a body lying on the ground. Hwang approached it and examined it; it was an old monk and he was dead. His throat had been slit. Hwang was furious. He clenched his fists. "Damn!", he said and immediately grabbed his wooden staff and got into battle stance. "Who did this?"

"We!" many persons said in unison. Suddenly, tens of men clad in black and armed with swords and knives charged from inside the halls and surrounded the two companions. Yuan gaped in astonishment and fear. If he was still Yang Jing, he would not be afraid. But now he was Cheng Yuan; a young playboy with no physical strength or internal cultivation at all. He did not have a chance at defending himself. He could only hope that the monk would protect him from those thugs.

Hwang could see that inside the halls, there were the littered bodies of tens of monks. "I will kill all of you!" the monk barked and charged at the enemies with his staff. With a swift move, he cracked open the head of a man. He then kicked another man; when that man cried out in pain, Hwang used the chance to put his stuff into his open mouth and with a swift move defang him. Teeth and blood fell on the ground and the man fainted. Another man tried to slash Hwang with his sword but the monk somersaulted, landed behind him and strangled him with his staff. A thug then tried to stab him but Hwang kicked him in the groin. At that moment another thug struck at him; he slashed the monk across his back. Hwang quickly turned around and hit as hard as he could the man's throat with his staff. The thug instantly died.

At the same time, two thugs charged at Yuan. "I do not know to fight!" he cried out. They did not seem to care. They slashed at him and Yuan was barely able to dodge their swords. A third thug then charged at him and slashed his chest. Thankfully for Yuan, the cut was not too deep. Yuan fell on the ground and tried to crawl away. Another sword then came at him; Yuan rolled to the right, trying to avoid the sword. 'Will I die once more?', he thought. As he was rolling, he inhaled dirt and coughed. Suddenly, another thug charged at him and stabbed his right leg. Yuan screamed in pain. As the thug was about to kill Yuan, Hwang charged at him. He struck him with such fury, that his stuff penetrated into the thug's chest. Hwang then beat up the other three thugs.

"Impressive!" a deep voice said. A man then appeared. He was wearing a long black gown with a long cape. A dark hood and a golden mask hid his face. "Most impressive… Excellent martial arts!"

"You are the bastard who ordered this attack?" Hwang shouted.

"Indeed, I am the one who ordered this attack," the man calmly replied. "Though I am no bastard, I can assure you of that."

"Why did you do this? How did Lingjiu Monastery offend you?"

The man laughed. "Oh, they did not. They simply had some herbs which I need for my experiments. Unfortunately, they refused to give them to me so, regrettably, I had to murder them."

"What nerve!" Hwang said. "Who are you that you dare commit such terrible acts? Are you not afraid of the Celestial Court and the Orthodox Sects?"

"Why should I be afraid of them? I am the 'Lord of War'. I am a servant of the Dark Lord Ye Guang. When he is revived, the Celestial Court and the Orthodox Sects shall be eradicated!"

The Lord paused for a moment. He noticed Yuan. He then said, "Men, kill that monk but capture alive that young man. He seems to be exactly the type of person I need for my experiments."

Hwang chanted a Buddhist prayer. There were tears in his eyes. "And so, I die…"

He then made one last heroic charge. He knew that he was going to die and as such nothing held him back anymore. He fought valiantly, caring little for his life. He was like a wounded wild beast; doomed to die but not giving up. Tens of thugs were beaten up to death by him. One such man, before being killed, managed to break in half the monk's stuff with his sword. Without a weapon, the monk now had to fight with his bare hands. A thug tried to stab him, but he dodged the attack and then struck out quickly at his opponent's eyes with the index and middle fingers of his right hand and gouged them out. Another man attacked him, but Hwang fly kicked his throat, killing him. He then picked a rock from the ground and used it to crack open the head of another thug. It was then when a thug cut the monk's right hand with his sword. Hwang roared. He grabbed the man by the throat with his left hand and strangled him. As he was strangling him, Hwang was being slashed by other thugs. He screamed in pain.

The Lord walked towards him. He unsheathed a small knife and pointed it at his face. "You are going to die!" he said and stabbed Hwang's forehead. Blood poured all over the monk's face. His wide-open eyes terrified everyone. He looked like a ghost.

"I…"

He vomited blood. "I… will…"

Hwang then collapsed on the ground. The Lord kicked the monk's lifeless body. "This is for the casualties you caused me. You shall be cut in a thousand pieces and shall be fed to the dogs. You will not rest in peace!"

Yuan clenched his teeth. Tears dripped from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. Although he had been fighting and arguing with this monk, Yuan knew that he was a righteous and noble person. He did not deserve to be killed, especially by scum like the Lord and his Demonic Cult.

Two thugs grabbed Yuan and threw him at the feet of the Lord. He was far too exhausted and powerless to put up a fight. The Lord examined closely Yuan. "You will have a bright future," he said. "If you survive my experiments, that is..."

"What experiments?"

The Lord laughed. "Oh, you are soon to find out."

He then hit Yuan on the head, knocking him out. "Men!" he barked. "Take him to the cave. Make sure nothing happens to him. I do not want my test subject to be damaged."