> The Thunderbolt Series of Martial Arts is not one to take lightly. One cannot risk brisk acceptance into such a tradition. The Thunderbolt Series and the Adamantine Series are two sides of the same coin, taught by the thunderbolt twins Salla and Salalila. One is for annihilation, the other is for eternation. If one learns one but not the other, then one's learning is incomplete. The middle way mandates that it must be both sides!
>
> Treatise on the Diamond Teachings
"Since you chose not to accept the robes, it would be better if you did not learn the Thunderbolt Staff Style just yet. The higher techniques of that martial art is kept secret from those that do not ascend the rungs of Adamantine Monkhood... or from those that are not accomplished Adamantine Mystics. Besides, I am led to believe that you will not stay here for long?"
Raxri nodded. "I must return to Akazha eventually. Working with a witch might help find more elaborations as to my past identity." At least, that's what they wanted to believe.
"It is a shame the abbot did not know you too personally," said Yiwaritala. "That he might have been able to grant you some measure of remembrance. Alas."
Raxri scratched their head. "So what martial art will you teach me?"
"You've mentioned you're learned of the Whorl Hand?"
Raxri nodded. "Even the blade techniques I performed were just applications of the Whorl Hand empty hand techniques to a blade."
"I see. Show me." And Yiwaritala bent low, in a gauging stance, foot stretched before him as if to taunt.
Raxri understood immediately, though that did not stop the mounting pressure and anxiety. Nevertheless, Raxri went into the same hands-close-to-face posture.
Yiwaritala burst forward; Raxri hesitated.
Yiwaritala's palm narrowly missed Raxri's face as they desperately swatted it away with an empty hand parry.
"Focus," snarled the warrior monk. He launched three more punches, in the same whirling, spiraling motion.
Raxri knew this one. They followed the defenses, and successfully diverted the strikes.
Raxri countered: moving forward so that Yiwaritala's outstretched hand was pinned against their side, Raxri's elbows struck. Yiwaritala blocked it with his hand. A shockwave thundered from the impact.
"Interesting," said Yiwaritala. "Your meditation is decent. Your Winds flurry; your Will flows."
Yiwaritala broke off the lock, stepped backward. Shot forward immediately. In anticipation now, Raxri parried the first strike, and then countered with their own. They traded blows, thunderous and quick. Robes silks rubbing against robe silks. Elbows dodged into chops into weaves into low stomping kicks.
Raxri found an opening as Yiwaritala leaned too far to dodge a feint. His neck, wide open. They meditated, moving all their Inner Wind into their hand, activating Bladed Hand. They struck down, but Yiwaritala was ready for it. He saw the scything chop incoming and breathed, winds bringing Will to course through his hand, activating Bladed Hand as well.
The two chopping hands met and clashed like true blades.
"Tactical." Yiwaritala struck with his other hand, now also a Bladed Hand. Raxri pushed themself off of Yiwaritala, who continued the assault. Meditating again, Raxri summoned their concentration to perform Whorl Guard. At that moment, Yiwaritala unleashed a cavalcade of blows, spearing with their Bladed Hand. Raxri just as quickly managed to deflect some of the blows, but the spearing hand was too quick. Cuts and lacerations opened on Raxri's forearms, biceps, one even on their shoulder.
Desperate, Raxri in battle meditation summoned the Devastating Red Hand and met one of Yiwaritala's Bladed Hands. Just as Raxri'd hoped: the red hand's quaking power sent Yiwaritala flying back, though not stumbling. Yiwaritala inhaled and landed gracefully on their feet, as if he were a prince carried by the winds.
"Smart," said Yiwaritala. Raxri gasped for air, arms still up. "But not enough." Raxri was covered in a thousand slashes.
Yiwaritala activated their Light Body with a harnessing of their Will. In a single bound they were before Raxri. They launched another attack, and Raxri met it with a desperate defense. They were going quickly, and despite the Whorl Guard, Raxri's parries were met with the force of a jackhammer. Every block sent them chittering and creaking, on the verge of shattering. Each force a hammer force... how could this be? Yiwaritala fought with a scary serenity, a matter of factness to his victory. His Whorl Hand Art was greater than Raxri's, not just by dint of training, but also because of his inner power.
Yiwaritala attempted a last ditch effort. They exchanged blows for another round, with Raxri coming out bruised at the end of it. When Yiwaritala struck again, they moved so close that they pinned Yiwaritala's hands on both sides. Then, screaming all the while, Raxri grabbed Yiwaritala's torso and suplexed him to the ground.
Yiwaritala slammed into the earth, and as he did, Raxri yelled: "Devastating Red Hand!" As they punched at Yiwaritala's body, attempting to bury it deep into the earth.
Unfortunately, Yiwaritala's body was no longer there. Somehow, he had pulled himself out from under Raxri. Raxri's Devastating Red Hand ripped into the earth, sending soil and debris into the air.
The debris was cut in two, like a curtain split open, as Yiwaritala emerged, descending upon Raxri from the sky, still with that same serenity. This attack was a spiral that begun from above, suddenly arcing forward, and then savagely down. A ferocious hammer strike.
"WHORL BREAKS OPEN THE LOTUS!" screamed Yiwaritala.
Raxri saw the arc much too late.
They desperately used Whorl Guard again.
The hammering fist shattered the Whorl Guard's defense.
It was a storm surge shattering through a weakly made dam.
Is this... Will? That was all Raxri could remember thinking before azure water-flame slammed into their chest, sending them plunging into unconsciousness.
When Raxri woke up again, they woke to the smell of lime and tea.
The blackness they arose from felt all too familiar. Though now they did not awake in a vat of blue liquid, but rather, upon a soft blanket against cushiony dry grass. The sound of the gushing waters of the river still resounded. They were still in that grotto.
The sun was high up now, its rays seeping through the canopy. Despite it now being the zenith of the day, the Sun's Blasted Rays did not strike them full-force. A pleasant breeze balmed their soul.
"Was I too harsh, Abbot?" Raxri heard Yiwaritala say. The Abbot only laughed.
"Underestimate not the stubbornness of our dear student. Witness, they have arisen."
Yiwaritala rose to their feet and walked over to where Raxri was. Bright green poultices had been applied to their wounds, so Raxri did not feel the burning situation they thought they would. Their arms, however, were wrapped in gauze and pandan leaves. Despite this, when Raxri looked at their arms, they saw that their cuts had completely shallowed.
"Was I knocked out?"
The abbot beckoned for Raxri. "Come, student. Share tea and betel nut with us."
Raxri acquiesced. Though a dull ache emanated from their wounds, it was nothing that they couldn't handle. They walked over to the makeshift table they had set up, which was only high enough to be exact for a lotus-sitting position, made of bamboo. Their tea cups were unblemished but undecorated. They were only clay cups, with lines creating rings around their rim.
In the middle of the table was a beautiful lotus shaped cup, whereupon already prepared betel nut quids were placed. These had the fragrance of cinnamon.
On the far side of the table lazed a makeshift stone stove. Upon the stove was a clay kettle, with white steam slowly wisping out of it. The leafy smell of tea was strong, though not overpowering. It mingled well with the aroma of the incense.
Yiwaritala sat and poured Raxri tea. The water of the tea was clear with a green tinge, and it flowed smoothly, without any hitches or bubbling. They took it with both hands afterwards and sipped it. The tea was smooth, almost sweet, without any hints of any other flavor. It was light and refreshing. Raxri drank it in little slurps. Each slurp, they felt warmth descend down into their belly, into their liver. They felt their leaden muscles getting lighter. Soon, before they even realized, the teacup was empty.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
"Ah, see. You perk up now," said the abbot. "Good. I suppose the tea was to your tastes?"
Raxri smiled and nodded, languidly slow.
"The tea is made from a tea plant that can be found here," said the Abbot. "This tea plant is cultivated by mountain gods. In accord with the Awoken, the mountain gods have blessed the tea plant of Mount Jura specifically with relievant properties. Mostly these work for diseases, but it also treatse fatigue and muscle pain very well. The same could be said of these betel nut chews, these nuts from the areca palm are also blessed and granted by the mountain gods."
The Abbot bowed reverently to the general direction of the shrine. Raxri could sense that the gods, choosing to be immaterial at the moment, were watching with a certain happiness. It was the same feeling as when a chef watched people enjoy their most famous meal.
Abbot Wairojashra sipped on the tea again. Raxri now took a piece of the quid and chewed. It had a bright, almost spicy flavor. While the tea stimulated their brain, the betel nut chew allowed a relaxing feeling to spread out from their mouth, suffusing their entire body. At once, Raxri felt their entire body be swallowed in relief. They spat out red chunks at the floor.
As Raxri chewed, Yiwaritala said: "And please, do forgive me for the outburst of strength."
Raxri shook their head. "I thought it was all part of the training procedure. So that you may reveal to me importance of harnessing Will."
"You put up a better fight than I had thought," said Yiwaritala. "I had truly underestimated your strength, and in so doing sent you teetering over what you couldn't handle. Again, forgive me. That is both carelessness and disrespect on my part."
Raxri shook their head. "I understand! It is all right." They bowed to each other and then returned to chewing on betel nut. "But now I understand the power of Will. Is this the way of this world? That all beings have this Will and can harness it?"
The Abbot nodded.
Then, they gestured with their lips to the general direction of Yiwaritala. "The tea and the betel nut do not only relieve pain. In fact, it relieves fatigue because it replenishes one's Will Furnace. Yiwaritala had used a good portion of their Will during the fight. You... haven't."
Yiwaritala added: "A momentous wellspring of Will arises from your Furnace... it is simply untapped."
The Abbot continued, "In truth, all sentient beings have momentous wellsprings of Will. Cultivation and training is one of the ways one reclaims that power. But there are other ways of manipulating Will and harnessing it, of course. These are the purviews of Wizards, Sages, Mystics, Gods, and the like."
Raxri decided it would be full interesting if they could learn magick. They did not vocalize this thought, however. That was something they squared away strictly for Akazha.
Instead, Raxri asked, spitting out another red chunk onto the blue-green grass: "What is the Will Furnace?"
It was Yiwaritala that answered. "I'm sure the witch Akazha has told you this before. The seat of power in a sentient being's body is their Will Furnace. It is from here that their strengths emanate out through the way of the Inner Winds. The Will Furnace even functions the Mind."
"We teach here," interjected the Abbot. "That the Will and the Mind are but the same. But you will come to that realization eventually." The Abbot smiled again. Raxri realized how docile his demeanor was, despite once having seemingly transformed into a wrathful deity, and also once holding true lightning from heaven in their bare hands.
"The Will Furnace is situated in the liver," said Yiwaritala. "This is why eating the liver has medicinal properties and is generally good for the health. Chicken liver, pork liver, all liver stores Will. Often this leads to corpulescence, and hence why there are entire sects and paths around the art of cooking, and the art of feeding."
"I see."
The Abbot said, "That is also why the great ghouls and demon witches prey after the livers of other warriors. In so doing they steal that warrior's liver. But as I've noted, this is a Demonic Act, and is an action that binds one to Evil Karma. It is a path of great power... In truth, it can lead to one becoming a Creator God! But never an Awoken. Never liberation from the cycle of desire and excess."
Yiwaritala nodded all the while. When the Abbot finished, sipping on tea again, Yiwaritala said: "The Will Furnace can be refined and strengthened. As one climbs the stages of cultivation, your Will Furnace will strengthen, and your connection to your wellspring of Will will greaten. This is how mortals become immortals. Through cultivating their Will Furnaces they can fly through the air, perform miracles, travel high enough to travel the heavens and low enough to travel the hells... and sometimes, yes, even create a universe in this Trichiliocosm.
"But strengthening the Will Furnace takes time, effort, and consistency. There are many skillful means that lead to the refinement of the Will Furnace, but they are all paths to the same goal. What we will teach you is refinement of your Will Furnace through meditation, contemplation, and visualization. These techniques will help you along the Thunderbolt Path."
"I am eager to learn. But, wait... what are the other means?"
Yiwaritala sipped on their tea first. "There are as many means as there are feathers upon a Maya bird. Apart from the Diamond Path Concentration practices, there is also the Elder Way Meditational practice, which is another way that focuses on attaining Sainthood. The Alchemists of Nitpala swear to the Way of Gold, using and refining external minerals, precious metals, herbs, and other such items to create Elixirs that fill one with Will. Other Alchemists follow the Way of Fire, which puts an emphasis on Internal-External Sympathetic Symbology and the transmutation from mortal to divine.
"There is the Consummation Practice, which focuses on creating Will-filled foods that, when eaten by a cultivator on their Path, would set their Will ablaze and fill them with strength.
"There is the Tranquil Light Practice, which is a similar contemplative practice to ours but with prayer upon their Creator God of Primeval Light. There are the Smiths, cultivators who hound after the perfect tool or piece of equipment, and in so doing refine and upgrade their very Will Furnaces to perfection as they perfect other, many of whom worship the Machine God.
There is, of course, the Exemplars of the Way, who kindle and refine their Will Furnaces through sheer mastery of their Art. This is where ideas such as Sword Cultivation and Spear Cultivation arise. Their belief is in the mastery and supreme mastery of their chosen art, they can attain Immortality. We ourselves use various cultivations, as these Paths are Paths to Power, which will be of extreme help when living in this world of suffering. But as the Abbot has said, these are not Ways to Enlightenment, simply to Power."
Raxri asked for another cup of tea, and the Abbot was more than happy to oblige. After being poured the tea, Raxri said, "There is an entire world of cultivation for me to see..."
"In the Latter Day of the Law," spoke the Abbot. "There has ever been a greater impetus for these cultivations, as the world crumbles and withers away to its inevitable end. The cycle shall repeat, as that is the way of the world, but like a serpent eating its own tail, the end-beginning of a cycle is destructive, dangerous, and obliterative. Many people seek the esoteries to survive the cyclical end, walking into Kalah's Maw."
Raxri wanted to ask about Kalah's Maw when they suddenly remembered something. "That reminds me, Abbot! Forgive me for not being able to tell you sooner. The dog demons that have appeared in Jura Mountain... they have a chieftain named Silver Wind Witch Dog who lives at the caves atop the mountain. They are readying to obliterate the monastery! I was so enamored by the monastery and new learnings that that slipped my mind."
"I see," the Abbot turned to Yiwaritala. They stared at each other for a moment, before Yiwaritala inhaled.
The monk said: "This is the first time a chieftain has ever appeared in Mount Jura. It seems that they are readying in earnest now for a true attack. Such nuisance to the practice of enlightenment."
"Ready the fighting forces," replied the Abbot. "But we must not fall into vengeance. Wait until they are at our gates, then we must protect what is ours without impunity."
Yiwaritala bit his lip. He said, "If we wait that long, we might endanger destructions upon our monastery."
"The monastery can be repaired. Charging on our own with the intent of slaying all the beasts... though they be demons, these are not skillful means."
"But, Abbot, we must conquer them before they conquer us!"
"Have you no faith in the Arts of the Adamantine Path? Abide in the Law, and the Law shall deliver."
Yiwaritala inhaled, and then exhaled. "I will ready the towers and the warrior-monks, Abbot."
The Abbot nodded. "You may leave to do so. I will take care of this one's training, for now." The abbot smiled a perfect smile to Raxri. Raxri blinked.
Suddenly, their bullet wound jolted again. Raxri wished it was not aggravated due to the fight. The pain quickly subsided, so Raxri decided to ignore the most of it.
Yiwaritala nodded. He rose to his feet and bowed to the Abbot with a mouth reverence. They nodded to Raxri in politeness, and then left the way they came.
The smell of water mingled with fresh bamboo and the steams of tea and incense created a surprisingly tranquil aura penetrating their training zone. Raxri spat the last chunk of betel nut from their mouth, feeling energized.
The abbot rose. "How are you feeling?"
Raxri swallowed. "Better, now, your servant believe."
The abbot waved his hand. "You may refer to yourself. No need to refer to yourself as a servant. That is for conversation between kings and peasants. In the mountains, all of us are kings."
Raxri smiled. They liked the sound of that. They moved their shoulder around and said, "However, there is still some ache."
"The wellspring of your Will will suture your wounds soon enough. Since Yiwaritala will not be able to, I will teach you the basics of the Adamantine Sword."
"Adamantine... Sword?" Excited, Raxri to their feet. Finally, a new martial art! They readied their fingers.
The abbot nodded and uttered a mantra. As they did, they pulled out a sword. The sword had a handle that depicted a roaring tiger, eyes bulding, and curved forwards still. The blade of the sword was mostly straight, unlike the kalis, though it similarly had the handguard that was part of the blade. The blade was thick, and just the right amount of length.
It floated gently over toward Raxri's hand.
Raxri took it and wielded it. The balance was different from a longknife, that was for sure. Though it was not too weirdly balanced that they didn't know how to wield it. The handle made it easy to chop in a certain direction, but Raxri noticed that this sword was double-edged, unlike the longknife's single edge.
"That is the sword, sometimes known as the sundang in particular parts of the Utter Islands. It is the most common kind of sword you will find in the Central, Southern, Southwestern, and Southeastern regions of the Sword Isles." The Abbot brought out their own blade. This one had writing inscribed onto the flat of its damascened blade. He continued, "Despite the pacifism inherent in the tenets of the Law, we recognize that there is room for violence in the scriptures. This violence, which should only end in killing for the most extreme of cases, is taught and perpetuated by the Termagant Buddha, Scarlet God Awoken, and Dattreya Wairini. She once taught as thus: 'Force must be met with force. But this force must be guided by the compassionate hand. A hand of hatred will only turn the wheel.' Therefore, compassionate violence is the only allowed violence."
"I see." Raxri stared at the blade. "Was the Adamantine Sword was made to protect the monks?"
The Abbot shook his head. "This was developed a long time ago, and was created in tandem with the martial arts of Selorong, to the northwest of Pemi. The Adamantine Sword has two signature beliefs: to destroy the chains of oppression and to kill only when it is required."
The Abbot then moved their blade in a single, diagonal, cutting arc. "Let us begin."