Chapter 103: Monk

After dealing with the Burrowing Worm, the road to the Brick Kiln continued being repaired. The construction of the Brick Kiln was complete, but it would be a while before the first batch of bricks could be fired.

Su Lun patrolled his Territory once a day ever. With the Black-maned Horse, patrolling had become much easier. Interestingly, today he actually encountered an Adventurer traveling alone in the Wilderness.

It’s worth noting that this Wasteland teemed with all sorts of monsters. Anyone bold enough to travel alone was either a fool or supremely confident in their own strength.

It was around noon. Su Lun was about to find a tree to rest under and have something to eat when he spotted the Adventurer. He was a very ordinary-looking middle-aged man—square-jawed with a broad nose, thick eyebrows and big eyes—nothing remarkable. He wore simple hemp clothing dotted with patches and frayed at the edges.

Bandages were wrapped around his arms and legs. His limbs were thick and his body powerfully built, the kind of frame perfect for a heavily-armored foot soldier. When Su Lun saw him, a Mountain Rage Bear was already lying dead nearby—the same kind of creature that had given Heatherway trouble had become someone else’s prey this time.

Su Lun noticed the Mountain Rage Bear had been killed bare-handed. That was impressive. Although the Mountain Rage Bear was only a Knight Rank beast, if a Knight tried fighting it unarmed, he’d likely be swatted dead in a few blows. This man before him had hunted and killed it with his bare hands—clearly formidable.

“A Monk?” Su Lun thought to himself. The man’s apparel was his first clue.

Su Lun dismounted and approached the man politely. “Is the master here for wilderness cultivation?”

The middle-aged man returned the greeting with grave formality. He nodded but did not speak. Monks adhered to many vows. One such vow was the Vow of Silence. For each vow undertaken, a Monk’s power increased. The more vows they took, the stronger they became.

Almost no Monks used weapons, except perhaps for special knuckle weapons. They also wore no armor. Yet this didn’t mean they were fragile. In truth, their elemental resistance bordered on the absurd. They fought with their bare hands. Though weaponless, they possessed special techniques to unleash immense destructive force.

The most typical was the Penetrating Strike—an almost bug-like ability ignoring all armor to strike directly at the target’s inner being, much like the legendary ‘Striking an Ox Through a Mountain’ ability from past tales. The Inch Strike was another, concentrating all force into a single point for a devastating, instant burst.

Often, Monks journeyed alone into the Wilderness or other harsh environments to temper their will and attune themselves to nature—reaching for a state of harmony with the heavens. One could say theirs was the firmest will among all classes. They were nearly immune to the vast majority of charm spells and mental magics, their will and conviction forged through brutal adversity into something unshakeable.

Legends told of Legendary Tier Monks who could resist the Charm Magic of the Queen of Succubi herself—a being said to be capable of charming even gods, leading to their downfall. This showed just how incredible these individuals were.

Becoming a Monk wasn’t particularly difficult. Their strength came from the number of vows they upheld. The Monk’s advanced path, the Ascetic, however, had requirements bordering on the insane: complete abandonment of worldly wealth, fame, and material pleasures.

They used no weapons or enchanted gear, frequently seeking harsh environments for cultivation and fortifying their will. These Ascetics were also the most potent among Monks. Upon learning of this class, Su Lun immediately gave it a wide berth. In his mind, if gaining great power wasn’t for living better and enjoying life, then what was the point? What good is a steel rod then?

Becoming an Ascetic did grant immense power, but violating any vow would cause part of that power to vanish. Regaining it required undertaking a difficult penance and renewal ceremony. Many Monks abandoned their vows during this process; not everyone possessed the willpower to renounce all material comforts.

Su Lun held great respect for those who managed it. Their will and conviction were truly extraordinary. The Monk traded the Mountain Rage Bear to Su Lun for some dry provisions. It wasn’t that Monks didn’t eat meat; only that during their ascetic training periods, they abstained, subsisting on simple rations and clean water.

Successfully completing such training allowed a Monk’s strength to leap forward dramatically. If Rogues were the class Wizards hated most, then Monks were the class they least wanted to face.

At worst, Rogues only pilfered—sneaking into a Wizard Tower when the Wizard was away. With enough hidden Magic Traps, those thieves could meet a gruesome end. Monks, however, were different.

High-level Monks possessed astonishing magic resistance, and their attacks could bypass magical barriers. Faced with them, even a High-level Wizard would get a headache.

After sharing a meal with the Monk, Su Lun took the Mountain Rage Bear and departed. He had briefly considered inviting the Monk back to his territory. After all, many Monks were master fighters, and learning some techniques from him would certainly aid in boosting Su Lun’s strength.

Sadly, the Monk declined. He had already embarked on his training; going to Su Lun’s territory would interrupt it. When cultivating, they avoided places with many people, believing the “mundane world” atmosphere too potent, hindering their communion with nature.

Su Lun felt like saying that tempering one’s spirit in that mundane world was the truest mastery—that achieving enlightenment and refining will amidst its chaos was the mark of a true Grandmaster. But he held his tongue. What if he ended up misleading the Monk? He couldn’t risk that.

Back at his camp, he visited the Military Camp. The Drow Elf, Aydin, was busy training the new recruits. As Su Lun had instructed, Aydin was turning these novices into competent Scouts.

“Watch your feet!”

Aydin barked sharply, continuing, “As Scouts, you must be vigilant about where you step! You’ll often operate in hazardous areas riddled with traps. One mistake, and your life’s clock starts ticking down.”

“Enemies won’t give you a second chance!”

“Pay attention! Keep your steps light and agile. Stay alert at all times. You need to be as nimble as a cat! That’s how you stay alive.”

“Don’t over-stride! Memorize the path you take. When retreating, stick to ground you’ve already tread. It’s less likely to be trapped.”