> Until very recently, the primary mode of trade in the Utter Islands was pure barter. In truth, until now it is barter trade, as differing communities valued differing things. However, within the Greater Monsoon Marketplace, the standard currency has become joss sticks (incense sticks), specifically bright gold sticks that create a lambent azure flame when burned.

>

> These joss sticks are shorter sticks (around a finger long) with incense paste made of Wessanblood. Joss sticks are minted by Wessan the God of Wealth, who resides in the far north Cloud Realm. Joss sticks have become currency because the Greater Monsoon Marketplace includes trade with the gods as well, where the smoke of joss sticks become amrita, the most delicious food of the gods.

>

> Beyond Ultimacy Manuscript

"When will I attain Accumulation Stage, Abbot?" asked Raxri once, as they rested, eating a sticky sweet rice confection made out of coconut milk, brown sugar, and aforementioned sticky sweet rice. It was known as kalamay in the islands.

The Abbot looked at Raxri for a moment, and then said, "It shouldn't be too long, now. But you will need a great fount of Will to take it from. Continue your meditation, the Merciful Hearer grants you bounteous Will that you would not otherwise be able to accumulate."

And so Raxri followed, meditating every day for at least two sun movements.

Raxri eventually was deemed possible of learning another secret of the Adamantine Sword. This Killer Technique was monikered: Heavenly Lightning Saber. The way the Abbot showed it was by leading Raxri past the bamboo grove, deeper into the forests of Pemi Island, until they arrived in a clearing somewhere where a great boulder stood. Upon closer inspection, the "boulder" was reflecting the color of the Firmament, as if it were part of the Firmament.

"This is a Sky Stone," said the Abbot. "A piece of the sky that had fallen and did not burn up. These are not meteors nor comets: those are residue of Flying Stars. Nay, these are true shards of the sky. Their stone is malleable, and can be refined and used as weapons, in truth, much in the same way that jade and obsidian are used."

"Truly?"

"Yes. And only Willful Techniques can cut it. Witness." The Abbot brandished their blade and placed it in front of them, facing the flat of the blade. They closed their eyes and touched their forehead against the cold steel of their sword, and then continuously uttered a mantra.

Raxri could feel the gathering Will. It was like a keening thunderhead; Raxri's hairs stood on their end. It felt like when the ocean would gurgle and heave first before unleashing a wave.

And then, the Abbot chanted: "Heavenly Lightning Saber!" They swung three times, his feet never touching the ground as they sliced, moving and twisting their entire body. Razor sharp lines of pure Will emanated from the slicing sword's tip, cutting and shearing into the Sky Stone. The fragments fell unto the ground, cleanly cut, without any further fragmentation. A jeweller's dream.

"And this I now shall teach you." He swung his sword about him in wide circles, and then said, "Take upon the Gathering Thundercloud Stance. This stance serves nothing but to prepare for the sharpening of your Will." Blade behind him, the Abbot twisted into a cross-legged stance, and then bent low. Their center of gravity lowered. As they lowered, Raxri could see colorful streaks of Will erupting from them, like a fount.

Raxri followed, doing the same stance. They bent low, their feet burning in pain as they held the cross-legged stance. The lower they did the stance, the more difficult it was, but the heavier their center of gravity was and the more their Will squirmed to leap out of them.

"Then, move your blade in a wide arc, catching the streams of Will." The Abbot twirled their sword about as they arced it over them. A less-skilled swordhand would have harmed themselves doing such a dangerous maneuver. The Abbot did it easily, and Raxri did it as well. They had practiced this very maneuver with their fundamentals. They took extra pains to perfect this one particularly because this maneuver (which they called Dancing Dragon Razor) cut Raxri multiple times!

But when Raxri did it now, concentrating their Will into their blade as they swung it around them, empowered by the Gathering Thundercloud Stance, they not only performed it scatheless, they felt the power thrumming through the spine of their sword. It shuddered with anticipation, ready to strike, ready to unleash horrible horrible violence.

"Now hold it! The better the swordmaster, the longer one can retain the keening power of the Heavenly Lightning Saber."

Raxri nodded. They stretched their sword like a wing to the side, and it shuddered, vibrated. Its intensity matched that of a volcano.

They only held it for a moment, before the fulminating Will exploded. It scattered in an arc, uncontrolled, spreading across the bamboo grove. Shards of Will pricking and skewering the ground, the bamboo, the mahoganies, the flowers. The shards dissipated eventually, leaving behind only marks of scorching as the only remembrance of Raxri's incompetence.

The Abbot exhaled, and then twirled their blade. His gathered keening Will dissipated harmlessly about him as he did. "And the best swordmasters can dissipate this keening power with a thought."

Raxri fell to their ass. They stared at their hands: soot covered it, as if they'd been burned. "How... How will I understand this power?"

"Through training," said the Abbot, smiling. "Now rise, Raxri Uttara. Training continues apace."

Once, while Raxri just about managed to generate three slashes of the Heavenly Lightning Saber Killer Technique, slicing through three bamboo groves in a single performance of the movement, they sat down beside the Abbot who drank more black tea. The tea was said to grow natively in Shen, but a specific black tea brewing style could be found in an island known as Meita, somewhere between northwestern North Ra-Om and the Refuge of the Gnostics, said to be floating about the wild seas of the Anju Tenem Sea, wherever that was.

Scratching their head, Raxri stared at the Abbot as they formulated their questions, attempting to temper the chaos of their thoughts into something somewhat understandable.

The Abbot knew what Raxri was like at this point, so they simply did nothing but wait for the words to formulate within Raxri's mind. Then, they said: "Abbot, if I may ask a question?"

Smiling, the Abbot nodded. Raxri sat down beside him, laying their training sword flat in the grass before themself.

"Suppose the Adamantine Sword is an integral part of modern life here in the Utter Islands, as the world descends into ever war... would this not be against the precepts of the Infinite Law? Specifically, the precepts of the Nonviolence?"

The Abbot put down his tea. A chill breeze washed over them then. To Raxri, that felt like the Abbot meditating on the cosmic mind and summoning the transcendent, unsurpassable teachings of the Awoken Wisdom.

Then, the Abbot said: "The Law is constantly being revealed to us," said the Abbot. "Even the Tutelary Awoken of this Kalpa has deemed it impossible for him to be able to reveal everything about the Law on his own... this is why he spoke of other Conquerors, other Saints, other Saviors. The bleeding edge ethical technology of the Infinite Law is the very fact that it can be used across a number of circumstances, applicable in any context. This is its virtue. It is not a utilitarian system, and neither is it a deontological one. It is one of virtue ethics.

"Thus have I heard: there was a village that was constantly being bombarded with plagues. Now, you will know, now all plagues are caused by incensed deities. They are sometimes also caused by toxic fens, diseased plants, and poisonous plants that reside within an area. Though this village had performed all the required rituals to appease all the gods of the earths and the skies, it was not enough, and even their spiritual leaders and elders contracted life threatening plague.

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"That was when the Medicine Awoken arrived, as they traveled across the world collecting the One Hundred and Eight Elixirs of Wandering. Seeing as the Medicine Awoken was a skilled doctor, medicine man, and cunning folk, the village's chief supplicated and pleaded him to help everyone in their village, fot hey faced certain doom. The Medicine Awoken, in his infinite wisdom, of course offered to help. He stayed for a few more days and tried to cure everyone the normal way, but found that the number of people contracting the plague was vastly outnumbering the number of people he could heal at a time. Even worse, any elixir or medicine pill or curative he could give the sufferers, they would only return to suffering afterwards, for the people themselves built no innate resistance against the offenses of the plague. And so, one morning, he decided to face the problem at the source.

"'Bring me to the place of flowers here,' the Medicine Awoken said. The Village Chief did so, bringing him to the place of utmost beauty in their lands: the land by the river, right before the toxic fens. And it was full true! The Medicine Awoken had scarely seen such a beautiful place before. Its beauty was the sublime of Awoken-Nature, beyond suffering and enlightenment. There, the Medicine Awoken three colorful herbs of scarlet, indigo, and ebony.

"The Medicine Awoken asked: 'Do you eat from these herbs?' The Village Chief said no. That those herbs were one of the most toxic herbs they knew and so they avoided it completely for the safety of their village. The Medicine Awoken only nodded and said: 'This flowerbed poisons the very water you drink. The roots of the Trinity Herbs drain the good properties of the earth and water around it, creating toxic conditions for life. It is good that you have survived this long!'

"Afeared, the village chief kowtowed and prostrated before the Medicine Awoken. He cried and asked if there was anything they could do. The Medicine Awoken nodded and said: 'We will use these.' Confused, the village chief asked: 'But, o great sage-doctor, you have just said that the very cause of our plagues are these same toxic herbs!' The Medicine Awoken began picking Trinity Herbs and putting them in his satchel, chanting a protective spell all the while. After he was done, he said: 'The most potent of poisons can only be healed by converting those same poisons.' And thus it was, that the Medicine Awoken returned and created medicinal elixirs using the very same poisonous Trinity Herbs to heal everyone in the village, and to make them resistant against future changes. The Village Chief was overjoyed, as they did not want to move the entire village due to the war and due to their responsibility to the spirits of that land, as their ancestors created a pact with those same spirits.

"Disciple, hear as well as I: to heal the worst of poisons, one requires the poison first. One must temper and heat and turn the poison into a medicine more powerful than the poison itself. In the same vine cometh the teaching of Antiviolence, as spoken by Ksewran Murat and the Twice-Awoken Dattreya Wairini: the yoke of oppression must be removed and replaced with the Yoke of Self-Enlightenment. But no master will ever willingly give up their power, and so we must meet force with force. This is the Sutra of Violence."

"I see." Raxri was struck with an almost awesome feeling, coming to that realization. "So you cultivate the means of violence because that same very violence exists in this world?"

The Abbot nodded, though their mien was very serene. "Only compassionate violence can end the most grueling of violences. Even the Tutelary Awoken has spoken of Skillful Means to achieve Enlightenment. Dattreya Wairini the Twice-Awoken herself has said that a peaceful being is one that is fully capable of violence. Therefore, we train both our compassionate mind and our violent body to to help not just ourselves but others too in Liberation."

"But would the cycle simply not continue?"

"It would," said the Abbot, nodding. "But that is why we do not speak of it in terms of violence. There is an ultraviolence that can bring an end to the Furious Wheel. A violence beyond violence, one that requires restraint, peace, compassion, and actual martial ability. Many call it by many names, but you might know it mostly under the name of Justice."

And so Raxri meditated upon the precepts of Justice, and more importantly a Justice that seeks to liberate instead of bring reparations. A justice that creates compassionate circumstances for both the struck and the striker, so that the wheel will not be turned.

It took Raxri another moon to fully learn the Heavenly Lightning Saber.

At the end of that moon, when the sun was deep into its descent, the malachite sky painted indigo, Raxri once again performed the Gathering Thundercloud Stance. While they gathered their Will, inhaling and exhaling as they did, sinking deep into Concentration, stones and leaves swirled about them, responding to the keening power they could now command.

They performed the gathering arc, catching every streamer of Will.

Then, with an exhale, they cut.

A sword slash of pure Will sliced through the air and slashed deep into the hardwood tree that Raxri was targeting. The beam of sword essence was crooked, not perfectly straight, and wasn't the molecular singular thinness as that of the Abbot's, but it was the Heavenly Lightning Saber all the same.

Raxri roared. Their body was battered, muscles rippling, slenderness accentuated with curved lines. They fell on their back. "I did it!"

"The sword lines are crooked," said the Abbot, coming closer to them, eyes on the gash upon the hardwood tree. "But that is all right. With further use, your usage of the sword beam will only refine. Perfection now moves in your direction, instead of you moving in their direction." The Abbot smiled.

"More importantly...." The Abbot placed the edge of their sword to Raxri's forehead, and then the tip of the sword to Raxri's mouth, and then to their heart. "By mastering the Will in this way, and accumulating enough Will to actually be able to even attempt Heavenly Lightning Saber, your Will Furnace has grown and developed strong enough. Do you not feel anything strange, now, deep in your bones?"

"I... I do." And indeed they did. Even as they lay down upon the grass, Raxri could feel themselves thrumming with energy, their focus razor sharp. As if they were constantly benefitting from coffee. The energy at their liver, the site of their Will Furnace, was bursting at the seams. It fulminated, Flame-Lightning.

"Then you are now in the Accumulation Stage," said the Abbot. "Be proud, this a true breakthrough in your cultivation. Now, rising in Cultivation Stages will be smoother, though each will require even more Will to attain."

Raxri felt like they could fly. Instead, they bowed deeply, almost prostrating to the Abbot. "Thank you, Abbot Wairojashra!"

"Our three moons together have been highly productive," said the Abbot, smiling. "Though we only managed to go through a year and a half's worth of training, this is more than enough for you to be able to defend yourself with decent ability. Come. Ampun Sagara awaits."

"Ampun Sagara?"

The Abbot nodded. They turned and walked.

Raxri sighed. "Not even a bit of rest, huh?" They forced themselves off of the grass, and then rushed over to the nearby boulder where they had left their robes in. They trained without a top, so the sweat glistened upon their solid body. They quickly put the robes on and tied it together. Then, they ran over to the Abbot.

The Abbot led Raxri back to the monastery, but not inside its walls. A bit of a walk away from the walls of the monastery, down a well-trodden dirt path, muddy from dew and humidity, led to a small glade, where the mountain's slopes leveled. The trees here were tall, and the bamboos were thick and wide, large. They looked too large even for a human to heft them.

The glade had an interesting fragrance. Not a bad fragrance: in fact, the fragrance felt too artificial. Raxri could not pinpoint what it was.

In the middle of the glade was a stilt house, with multiple annexes connected by roofed walkways. It looked midway through a simple peasant's stilt cottage and a palace. Pigs and chickens loitered about the fenced off underside of the cottage complex. To the side, an unwalled shed with a half roof shading multiple workbenches where giant bamboo, hardwoods, rosewoods, sandalwoods, and inks.

The tattooist Ampun Sagara walked out from behind that pile of work. They wore nothing but a multi-layered sarong and wooden sandals. Their bare chest revealed ligers tattooed, with sacred symbols lining their teeth and back and constituting their stripes.

When he saw the student-master pair, he removed the pipe in his mouth and puffed out a healthy, slightly azure smoke into the sky. "Ah, Abbot Wairojashra. Raxri Uttara." Smiling, he returned the pipe to his mouth and bowed low with the mouth reverence. "How may I help you?"

The Abbot nodded. "The time has come, tattooist."

"Ah, has it now?" Ampun Sagara smiled. "Well, I cannot deny this. Truthfully, even the Lightning-Enterer's gait has changed." Ampun Sagara nodded, referring to Raxri. "The Will emanates from you now, when it once was nothing but a slight ripple, begging to be ignored."

"I am in the Accumulation Stage now, Ampun," replied Raxri. "My excitement cannot be contained! But... answer me please: what is the time that now comes?"

"In truth," Ampun Sagara walked over to them and pat Raxri's shoulder. "Many of the monks that cultivate within the monastery are granted special access to the talismanic tattoos, to strengthen their Will Furnaces even further. They only earn these tattoos after significant moments in their life. One such moment is the ascension into the next stage of Will Cultivation."

"I see." Raxri felt pride creep up their belly, where their Will Furnace would've been. "I see! Then, please, I wish to partake."

Ampun Sagara turned to the Abbot. "For now," he said. "Complete the Shield Yantra pair. Then, the Shagara's Pillars, to their shoulders."

"Shagara's Pillars?" asked Raxri.

Ampun Sagara nodded, fingers holding their chin. "I see I see. A thoughtful one, that. Shagara's Pillars, so named after the King of Gods, is another protective yantra. But instead of protecting the marked subject from incoming harm, it instead restricts the flow of Will from the marked subject." The tattooist turned to the Abbot. "Am I correct in understanding your intent in this, Abbot?"

The Abbot nodded. "If we restrict Will from needlessly expirating, perhaps we can also prevent any more future scenarios of memory loss."

Raxri put their hands on their hips. "Ingenious." They nodded.

"It is. Well, if that is the mark of their ascension, I shall prepare the ritual stage."

The Abbot nodded. "I must needs prepare for my journey from the monastery. I shall leave you here. Do no harm and be of no nuisance to the tattooist."

Raxri bowed the mouth reverence to the Abbot. Ampun did the same. The Abbot left.

"Come," said the tattooist. "Come inside of my heart, for a moment." And Ampun Sagara opened the doors to his home.