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.