> Our world long united must divide. Long divided must unite. Thus has it ever been. The cycle will never end, to believe it will is the folly of the limited and ignorant human mind. How can we free ourselves, then? Through Liberation, through Emancipation, through Extinction. Only by shattering the wheel can we be free of the cycle, for the cycle itself is made from our very own delusions. I'm pretty sure this is what they call the Romance of the Lotus Throne.

>

> Street Cat Beggar

The next day, Raxri woke much too early. They had fallen quickly into a fitful, restless dream. Raxri's dreams induced anxiety, but they could not remember them when they awoke.

The candle light had been extinguished. Smoke wafted still from the incenses. The waters of the hot springs outside babbled its incoherent message. The moon drowned now, in the waters of the horizon. The sun's gleaming light swords pierced not the Firmament just yet.

Raxri stared a bit at the sword upon their bedside table.

No turning back now. Let thy will be done. Raxi stood, grasped the sword, put on their robes, and walked out.

Outside, the climate seemed too cold and yet too humid. The clouds were gray, despite the rising sun. The coldness clung to Raxri.

The front gates were open. A small throng of warriors had accumulated there, walking around, eating fresh steamed rice cakes made from gluttinous rice along with bowls of the beef stew that Pilinitala and Myu Fan had made. Some of them walked around with a teacup of coffee. Some of them were walking back from one of the houses that were not part of the monastery's walls. This one stood on its own, with multiple annexes, built upon bamboo stilts. Multiple men and women were going in and out of that annex.

Raxri walked over to there. Yiwaritala was handing out weapons from within. He himself had a breastplate over his robes now, though that was the end of his defensive armaments. He handed out spears, swords, glaives, bows, and crossbows a like to all those that would take their weapons. When Yiwaritala spotted Raxri, he beckoned for them to come inside.

Inside, another monk, whom Yiwaritala introduced as Sayanitala, was keeping track of all the weapons being pulled out by other monks. Sayanitala had spectacles on, and was writing down digits onto dried palm leaf.

The Armory itself was surprisingly large, with two levels and with armors tied to walls, hanging from girders, hanging from knobs on pillars. Many feetwear and defensive legwear--sarongs, mostly, and sarouels--were folded neatly onto handwoven palm mats. Glaives were held up on racks, swords on sword holders lining the wall, bows unstrung on the floor, arrows within wood cylinder containers.

Yiwaritala wasn't the only one handing out equipment, of course, but it sure felt like it to Raxri. "Here's yours," said Yiwaritala. "Pilinitala will be waiting for you by the front gate. She has your healing gourd." Yiwaritala handed Raxri three items: a breastplate, arm guards, and shin guards, all made of blackened carabao horn. The breastplate was unique in that it also included a collar and flanged shoulderguards: the kind one would only see upon royalty. The arm guards were also jet black, and fit around Raxri's forearms perfectly. The shin guards had thick red string used for tying it securely.

Yiwaritala then said: "Oh, don't forget this." Yiwaritala was moving very rapidly, like a manager. They went behind Raxri and slipped on a battle jacket made of intricately woven abaca fibers. This one was dyed a navy blue. The battle jacket was a tunic that fell down to Raxri's thighs, though this one was not embroidered with golds that royalty would usually wear. The sleeves of the battle jacket were short, reaching only just above Raxri's bicep. Finally, Yiwaritala also handed them a circular rattan shield.

"Thank you," said Raxri. "I'll see you later." They bent over to put on abaca fiber sandals, which they tied in a criss-cross pattern around their feet and up their shin. Then they put the shin guards over it.

Yiwaritala nodded. "The march begins soon."

Raxri made their way over to the front gate, Puksa in one hand and dark brown rattan shield on the other. They saw Pilinitala standing with doctor Myu Fan, with Ampun Sagara eating beef stew. Pilinitala was clad in the same breastplate, armguards, and shinguard set that almost every other warrior was wearing, but Myu Fan stood wearing nothing but her cheongsam and her golden sash whereupon was arrayed weapons. She blew some smoke from her pipe. Ampun Sagara on the other hand, had on nothing but a frayed skirt that reached his knees, and prayer beads that wound about his hands. This allowed him to show off his tattoos, burning across his skin.

When Raxri arrived, Myu Fan removed her pipe. "Finally," said Myu Fan. "Here, your gourd." She handed it over to Raxri, who bound it to their hip by tying it to the strings of the breastplate.

Raxri laughed. "Doctor, what mean you, 'finally'? I woke up before the bulk of the force!"

"Did you sleep well last night, Raxri?" asked Pilinitala. She had with her a glaive with multiple rings strung through a hole in the blade. "I conked out from all the cooking I did last night." She mopped her face. Dark circles still ringed her eyes. "But it was worth it. I slept like a baby."

Doctor Myu Fan scoffed, handing another approaching warrior a healing gourd. "Yes, for all of four moon movements. That is hardly enough sleep for you."

"It's enough sleep to fight," said Pilinitala. "You said so yourself!"

"Yes, provided you sleep right after," she said, smiling. "But worry not. Just drink some of the gourd and sip a bit of coffee and it will all be set aright. Your fatigue will be annihilated."

Pilinitala did just that. She sipped some of the gourd, and Raxri could immediately feel her energies brightening, rushing. She then turned around and poured some coffee from the kettle on a wooden table and put it into a teacup, then drank it as well.

"You brought a coffee table out here?" asked Raxri, slightly incredulous.

Myu Fan nodded. The dark circles under her eyes seemed to be a conscious choice rather than a consequence. "Having to take care all of you...? It will be required."

Ampun Sagara smiled. "It would do you well to ready yourself, Raxri. And worry not: those tattoos now engraved upon you are ignited by the fires of your Will." He walked to the side and began stretching.

"I have full faith in your tattoos, Ampun Sagara," replied Raxri. "I am glad you fight alongside us. What weapon do you yet wield?"

Ampun Sagara lifted both of his hands. "I will employ the Heaven Thundering Hammer Style," he said. Yet another style that Raxri had never heard before. "A martial art popular in the region where I grew up in."

"I look forward to witnessing your strength," replied Raxri. "Is it another Empty Hand Style?"

Ampun Sagara nodded. He turned to Pilinitala and said: "Pilinitala. Toss me that rock."

Pilinitala looked around until she saw the large pebble that Ampun Sagara referred to. She walked over to it, picked it up, and threw. Ampun Sagara jabbed--a javelin of wind erupted from his fist, shattering the rock in midair. The rock's fragments went all over the place.

Doctor Myu Fan scowled. "Hey! Watch it! You'll put rock into the beef stew!"

Ampun Sagara suppressed laughter. "Oops. Forgive me."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Myu Fan rolled her eyes and dragged on her pipe. Pilinitala and Ampun Sagara laughed at each other, and then the tattooist went back to his stretching.

Smiling, Raxri turned around and saw all the mercenaries. "Do you think we will all make it out alive?"

"There's a chance," said Myu Fan. "The chance is multiplied by all the blessings that you have from gods, Awoken, Saviors, and more... but three percent multiplied by 10 is still just thirty percent. We must be ready for any potential casualties."

Raxri inhaled. "I will endeavor not to let anyone fall back into the Wheel."

"They will be broken upon the Wheel all the same," replied Myu Fan. She handed Raxri her pipe, and Raxri took it, leaning back against the tree and smoking its tobacco.

Pilinitala gave Raxri a similar clay bowl and rice cake. The clay bowl was filled with an absolutely delicious beef stew, with the soup made out of beef shanks and bone marrow. Cabbages and pechay flaoted about it, alongside thick beef pieces that went great with the only lightly sweetened rice cake.

Raxri watched the warriors file in, eating their breakfast. There were some people that were dressed in an attire Raxri could not entirely recognize. Men clad in interesting red hardwoods, others clad only in multiple layers of cotton armors (that must've been quite warm!) Others wielded arquebuses, others wielded giant round greatshields made of a gold alloy. There were some clad in what Raxri could only describe as living wood. Some wore helmets and breastplates of jade. There was one that wore nothing but a cloak that wrapped about them and trailed behind them as if they were shadow. There was one that wore a suit of silver, reaching only their neck. The suit was just about skin tight, but had certain protrusions that made it into armor. It seemed to undulate with life. There was another who was clad completelyin blackened armor, to the point that even their helmet was a complete ebon caricature of a dancing lion-dog.Their armor resembled that of ebony wood: gnarled twists and textured plates. Raxri wondered how they could see through it. They were a diverse lot: humans that had the face and fur of cats, humans that had the beaks of great eagles, monkey-humans, lizard-humans... All of them clad in an extremely diverse panoply.

"Oh," Myu Fan said as she came back to pluck the pipe out of Raxri's mouth. "The mercenaries have arrived."

"Mercenaries?"

Myu Fan nodded. "Giant Stone Monastery is relatively young compared to the other monasteries in the Utter Islands. Hell, even compared to the other monasteries in just Pemi. I sent out a missive while you and the Abbot were training, after the Abbot had let me know of his plans. Mercenaries are in a surplus now, you know."

"Right," said Raxri, remembering what Akazha had told them. What Akazha had offered them to do. "These are trained warriors?"

"Some of them," said Myu Fan. "Most of them are just grizzled and know their way around a fight. They used to be called something else before the End of Days, you know."

"What?"

"Adventurers."

* * *

When the sun barely peeked out of horizon's waters, the Abbot arrived alongside Yiwaritala. The Abbot wore no armor. They wore only their robes, and nothing else.

He walked to the front of the crowd, and then saw Raxri, Pilinitala, Ampun Sagara and Myu Fan. Smiling, he went over to them. "God-Flensing Darkness cut through all four of you."

They returned the greeting. An interesting one to Raxri, again. They performed the mouth reverences.

"I pray you have all gotten adequate rest?" asked the Abbot. They all nodded, more or less. "Good. We will be beginning our march. It will not be long before we arrive in the cave. Total extermination is to be expected, but the dog demons are not to be underestimated. Though we be many, and though our cultivation be true, we are still mortal yet."

Raxri wondered for a second why the Abbot couldn't just annihilate them all. "Thunderbolt master, if it be all right with you. May I ask: you have the capability of all these powers... why not just annihilate them yourself?"

The Abbot shook his head. "I am old, and my Will Furnace is not the same as it used to be. More importantly, my primary cultivation is meditation, dear Raxri Uttara. It is not battle. Not all Awoken are masters of combat."

"I've always thought all Cultivation would lead to some form of transcension," said Myu Fan, blowing from her pipe.

The Abbot smiled. "It does. Unfortunately, I am still of the Desire Realm, within the second stratum myself. If the dog demon has cultivated their own strengths, they will be difficult for me to face."

"Demons can cultivate?"

The Abbot nodded. "Almost anything can cultivate, given enough time and absorption. Now, the march begins."

Yiwaritala walked to the front, waving his hands to get everyone in line. Despite half of the force being mercenaries, they arranged themselves neatly enough. "We will begin the march!" Yiwaritala projected his voice so that he can be heard over the din. "The path is steep, but it is paved and stone. You must be careful not to slip down the stairs. Once we have arrived in the cave, it will be certain violence. Understood?"

A resounding, "O!" Yes.

Yiwaritala nodded to them, and then to the Abbot. The Abbot gestured for them to begin, and so they did, turning and walking, wielding his pewter staff as if a walking staff.

***

They arrived at the cave when the sun was only halfway arisen.

The path had been easy. It was a somewhat steep way, but the curves and crooks of the mountain path made it easy to walk up them. One could tell that this was a path often taken. The entire troop marched not as if they were going into combat, but rather, into a ritual.

At their arrival, there was a keening stillness. The tension thrummed across landscape. The hard stone beneath their feet seemed almost liquid. Yiwaritala stood at the front, flanked by multiple heavily armored warriors.

The cave itself was large and bore deep into the side of the mountain. A tall wood-and-bamboo gate had been constructed at its mouth. A series of levers and pulleys provided a clue as to its mechanisms.

Their warband stretched a bit further down. Raxri conjectured there were around fifty, maybe nearing a hundred of them. Warrior monks mingled with medics and mercenaries.

From where they were on the mountain, the sun could be barely seen. The sky above them stretched gray.

Yiwaritala brought out a conch shell. They blew into it. Soft, at first, and then the resounding warhorn rang stronger and stronger until the sound seemed to herald the very mountain itself. Birds scattered and flew off at the very strength of the call.

Yiwaritala projected their voice: "Dog demons of Mount Jura, upon Silver Wind Cave! Reveal yourselves, for we have come to exterminate you!"

A silence. The winds howled now, as if laughing at the warrior monks. Raxri shivered. What if there weren't any dog demons here? What if they had been flensed from this mountain? It has been three moons ever since the attack, after all.

They looked at the Abbot, wondering. The Abbot was wholly focused on the cave.

Then the gates creaked. It slowly swung open as the hemp rope was pulled and pulled. As the gate swung open, a silver-furred dog demon, larger than all the other dog demons they had ever fought before, emerged. They shook, as if a dog trying to shed itself of water. Its snout was long, almost sharp like a thunderbird's. Its eyes glinted bright gold. The demon was wrapped with fancy brocaded robes underneath pure steel lamellars and baggy breeches. Its gauntlets seemed to be made from the teeth of dragons. It walked wielding a giant dragonbone scimitar, sharpened to a point, magickally enhanced to be stronger and razor sharp.

Anxiety shot through Raxri. Perhaps not exactly fear, and morbidly enough a pang of excitement stirred them. The intimidation of the dog demon chief made Raxri's knees just a bit liquid, harder to keep up. They gripped the handle of Puksa. They could feel their breath quicken. They couldn't distinguish fear from excitement, right now. Flight from pure killing intent.

A few of the mercenaries took one look at the dog demon chief and turned tail. Their fear penetrated them and forced them to run. They ripped themselves out of the warband's formation, retreating down the mountain steps. Other mercenaries laughed at those that fled. Raxri looked over their shoulder and watched.

"Good thing ye haven't paid these cowards yet!" one of the mercenaries said, cackling, as a few other mercenaries figured they would lose their life before the dog demon.

Ampun Sagara, who stood taller than most of them, scowled. "Ignore them, Raxri."

Raxri nodded, turned to face the dog demon. The chief towered over them, as tall as three full grown men.

When it spoke, the mountain trembled. "Exterminate? Us?" Its voice was husky, deep, even alluring. But its basso voice punched at every one of their hearts. The dog demon's Will Furnace blazed without it even trying.

"You have come to harass the lives of those in Mount Jura and of those in Nunuk Vale," said Yiwaritala, standing resolute despite it all. "We have come to stop you."

"You cannot talk me out of it," said the dog demon. "This is my Law. I must do my part in destroying this wretched world... so that all may be free."

"Your perverted Law must be expunged from this world."

"Oh? And did not the Awoken teach tolerance?"

"Higher in the order of the Awoken's teachings is that of the Middle Way. To abstain from eternalism and from annihilationism. Your goals are annihilationist... and so it is not the Law but a perversion."

The dog demon laughed. "If! If you have come to exterminate me... why converse you me with philosophy?"

"I am giving you a chance," said Yiwaritala, unsheathing a straight sword from behind their back. "Convert to the teachings of the Infinite Law before I slay thee, and you might have a rebirth better than now."

The dog demon laughed even harder. Even their basso voice turned into a cackling, mocking witch laugh. "Your wretched Law and your wretched Teachings and your wretched Awoken... the arrogance of it all blind you to the truth of the world." The demon swung its dragonbone scimitar, quicker than thought. Yiwaritala blocked it with their sword, just as quick.

"Witness me!" The dog demon raised its sword up high, swinging it against the heavens. "I! Am Silver Wind Witchdog!" As he spoke, his golden eyes burned as if aflame. A nimbus of fire cloaked them, an aureole of blasphemous flame colored stark orange. A ring of light burned from behind their head, an aureole within an aureole. "And thou be wrong, bastardly monk! I seeketh not to destroy this Vale, though I happily will do so! Now, my primary goal is guided by heaven itself! I am one of the 108 GLAIVES OF HEAVEN... come to slay..."

Silver Wind Witchdog pointed their dragonbone scimitar at Raxri Uttara. "They who danced against the heavens!"