> "'Spirit' is the term used to refer to a number of beings that reside within this world and have magickal powers, but do not have king-like powers over them. They wander about the world and are residents of it like any of us. They are the fifth of the Six Paths, they are the ones seized by wrath. It is very easy to anger them. The gods are those that exhibit some form of hegemony over their domains, and therefore have the power to ward and stop spirits from moving past them. Finally, monsters are stragglers, a sub-path. It is a condition, a state of being, one where you are called to reinforce the Wheel of Violence and keep others in suffering. You can find monsters anywhere across the Six Paths.

>

> Therefore know the truth: there are more monsters than spirits. There are more spirits than gods. There are more gods than animals. There are more animals than humans.

>

> From Chapter 4 of the Treatise On This Wheel's Deities by the Lazulian Monk Siwatara Kewagu

Raxri made Sungai stay back by the river, to keep him safe from the reanimated. It was the morning and the Sun's Blasted Rays kept the reanimated at bay, searing through night's black sorceries. However, Raxri could never be too safe when it came to Sungai. Besides, Sungai was not their own horse, Sungai belonged to their master and dear friend Akazha.

How I wish Akazha was here now.

But Raxri was not one to shirk responsibility. And so they strode into Iri Village with their hand resting upon the dragon pommel of Puksa. Every step blossomed purpose. Their Will fountained out of them unseen, yet felt.

The quiet village slumbered haphazardly: crows and owls watched their every move, but no human walked out of their doors. Raxri felt coldness spike the nape of their neck. The residents of this village were watching them, no doubt about that. Watching and judging and plotting.

Resolute, Raxri powered through. Through vine choked stilt houses, through barren streets, through sheds of blacksmithing equipment laid bare and forsaken. They arrived at the village center, and saw a singular effigy shaped like a spire rising from the stark center. The smell was horrendous, the stench of charred corpses. Raxri had to concentrate to keep down the vomit rising from the pit of their own stomach. They hadn't even eaten yet today.

At the top of the spire was a body that no doubt belonged to a lady. Her entire body had been charred, pieces of burned silk and cloth, frayed. Scorched skin, hair completely burnt off. Body impaled upon the spire. A piece of her hand had fallen onto the ashpile below at the base of the spire.

The sky was the color of cloth left undyed.

Raxri inhaled deeply. Then, they uttered the Compassion Mantra ("Ahum Muyara Sawa Homa," Elder Karitan for: We of the Treasure Lotus) alongside the Graceful Rebirth Mantra ("Naamu Awadavoh" which is Elder Karitan for "Homage to the Unlimited Radiance Awoken"), both of which they had learned during their time training with the Abbot. The Compassion Mantra they recited for them to generate compassion in their heart and for those around them: even those that watched them with disdain at that very moment. The Graceful Rebirth Mantra was specifically for the woman atop the pillar, and additionally for those at the ashpit, for Raxri could see that there were corpses within. To facilitate a better rebirth, one in the Realm of the Unlimited Light, greater even than the gods.

When Raxri uttered their mantras the humans--or perhaps, more accurately, the reanimated that watched--immediately retreated into their homes.

Fear gripped Raxri's heart. It threatened to cease from beating.

And yet. And yet, and yet, and yet.

Raxri pressed on, towards the stone stairs, up it, onto the rocky outcropping where the giant longhouse of the village chief rose. As they placed their sandaled foot upon the first step of the stone stairs, however, a voice beckoned from behind.

"Hoy."

Another chill through Raxri's spine. They inhaled, concentrating on their mantras, concentrating on their breathing. They turned and saw what seemed to be a woman, her hair bundled into multiple tresses atop their head, her body wrapped in two layers of tube skirts and then a shawl over even that. Her skin was the healthy color of bamboo bark, but her eyes were unfocused.

She saw but did not see.

Raxri took their hand off of Puksa's pommel, performed a heart reverence. "Greetings to you, villager."

"Where do you think you're going? The chief lives up there. Did the chief call for you?"

Raxri shook their head. "A-ah, forgive me. He did not. H-However--"

"And where's Kamiro, huh? Something happen to him?" She interjected again. Villagers walked out of their houses with fishing harpoons and rakes and farming longknives. "Who are you?"

Raxri performed the heart reverence again, quicker this time, as they took a step backwards, up the stone stairs. "I am Raxri Uttara, a wandering beggar. I am of no consequence, I am simply on the Royal Road to Enlightenment, as so many others are. Kamiro is safe, they are working to help my horse, Sungai." Raxri grit their teeth and resolved to tell a white lie so that they would not incur the villager's wrath. So that they themselves would not be forced to commit unneeded violence. "I was told by Kamiro to go to the chief to ask for help from him."

"Oh yeah?" The woman looked at Raxri from head to toe for a moment. "Well, if Kamiro said that you were fine then I guess you--"

"Don't listen to that demon charlatan!" A man ripped out of a stilt cottage brandishing a bamboo spear. Their entire left arm was missing. "They were here last night! They slashed at me and cut my hand off!"

The woman's eyes turned to Raxri and they ballooned. "You liar! You dare endanger the sanctity of Iri Village!" And the villagers--reanimated, now, looking normal for all that was worth--descended upon Raxri.

"Forgive me," muttered Raxri, performing a mudra and then unsheathing Puksa.

Raxri fought backwards: they parried and sliced and skirmished while retreating up the stone stairs toward the village chief. They parried one thrown bamboo spear and then used that bamboo spear to skewer another man into the grass beside them. These Reanimated were not imbued with powerful Will: they were walking automata with no prowess over Will, and so Raxri found them to be of no consequence.

Unfortunately, there numbers were their balancing factor. Raxri sustained cuts and hits here and there, but nothing too deep, and nothing like when they fought the gunggong.

When Raxri reached the front porch of the chief's longhouse, they noticed the front door was slightly ajar. They could've sworn there was an eye peeking out from it, watching them fight off the hordes of reanimated villagers.

There's my chance! "Devastating Red Hand!" screamed Raxri, as they struck the largest of the villagers that was in front of them and knocked them back, sending them crashing into the throng of villagers behind them.

While they were distracted from that sudden outburst, Raxri turned around and leapt towrads the door. The longhouse's front door shut closed, but Raxri quickly wedged Puksa's sheathe in between, stopping the door from slamming shut. Using that as leverage, Raxri forced the door open and slipped in, turned, slammed the door shut.

The door sealed magickally. Made to feel as though the longhouse had no doors at all, and that the "doors" they walked through were nothing but door-like decoration.

Raxri swallowed a growing anxious lump. What magick suffuses this place...?

Raxri turned around to see the insides of the cursed chief's longhouse. It was beautiful, as was par for the course for a chief's longhouse. Vaunted roofs with pillars and beams of hardwood, lacuered and engraved with intricate depictions of the stories of heroes. Floor of smooth wood covered with soft cloth or textile rugs, perfect for walking and sitting upon. The back quarter of the entire longhouse was higher than the rest of the longhouse itself, and upon the center of it was the seat of the chief: a silk cushion throne with a back made of weapons and swords.

Sitting upon that very seat was a corpse.

Raxri swallowed. They uttered again the Compassion Mantra and the Great Rebirth Mantra.

The corpse moved. Its jaw creaked, cracked open. A sound escaped from its agape mouth. A low groaning sound burned gradually into a cackling, coughing laugh.

Bones cracked as it turned to face Raxri.

Raxri gripped Puksa's handle.

"WELL... WHAT HAVE WE HERE NOW?" The corpse was still clad in the trappings of a chief: a great sarong, a battle tunic, gold sandals, gold armbands, wristbands, anklets, shin bands, combat paduka. Most of all a giant headwrap with the front in a triangular position, taller than the rest, almost piercing the sky, the color of bleeding scarlet. Still strung to his waist upon a golden sash was their hallowed heirloom blade.

He moved. Erratic, sudden, bones cracking, dragonfly flitting. He rose to a stand, and unsheathed his heirloom blade. Its handle was ivory, and was in the likeness of a skeletal god. Its tassels were bejewlled, clanking rubies and emeralds with human bones. Its blade gleamed bright, oiled by some twist of magick.

The Chief of Iri Village. DREAD CHIEF DULUMNAN.

"YOU BEAR A WEAPON OF YOUR OWN...?" He pointed with the tip of his blade--a kampilan, meaning it widened at the tip, and had a bifurcated blade, with the longer side being the bladed side.

"I am not here to fight, great chief. I seek to speak with you about the Royal Road of Enlightenment."

A gasp, laugh-like. A facsimile of one. "AH. THOU MAY NOT BE HERE TO FIGHT. BUT I REVEL IN VIOLENCE! UNSHEATHE THY BLADE, LASS, AND QUICKSOME! MEET MY STEEL WITH WHATEVER FORTITUDE YOU MIGHT POSSESS!"

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Raxri cursed as Chief Dulumnan leapt off of the raised section of the house, shooting straight toward them. It was sudden. Untelegraphed.

Raxri concentrated and unsheathed Puksa, deflecting Chief Dulumnan's thrust in the same motion.

"AH!" Chief Dulumnan's voice was hoarse and broken and striking. Produced from magicks mixed with the grating of bones and the clattering of teeth. "YE HEAVEN DANCER... THOU KNOWEST YET THE MECHANICS OF THE BLADE. EXCELLENT! LET US DO BATTLE UNTIL OUR SONGS ARE BURNED INTO LEGEND AND CARVED UPON TEMPLESTONE!"

"I am not the same Heaven Dancer that you know!" Raxri had to clarify.

Chief Dulumnan repositioned himself, scampering on all fours, before twisting into an unnatural angle, shot toward Raxri again. Raxri leaped into the air and used Heavenly Lightning Deflection, parrying the Chief and sending them careening down into the floor.

The Chief slammed into the longhouse's wooden slat floors upon all four appendages.

The Chief's skull twisted on his neck so that he faced Raxri still. He moved like a demon; he did not maneuver himself with the assured dignity of a warrior chief nor of a warlord.

With kampilan at the ready he swung, blade arcing across the space between them.

Raxri winced and used Heavenly Lightning Deflection again, feeling the burning of their Will rising and rising within them. They turned the kampilan aside, but they were still stuck in the air. Engaging their Light Body Technique, Raxri used the momentum from the deflection to launch themselves over the chief and behind him.

The Chief struck again and again, even as Raxri repositioned themselves, arcing over the vaunted hall. Raxri had to desperately defend themselves with Puksa. In the storm of blows a few kampilan strikes struck home, slicing and lacerating the points where Raxri was bare. Most of them were minor wounds. The majority of their cuts became slight abrasions against the monk's robes Raxri wore.

"THOU COMETH HERE WITH PRIDE UPON THINE HEART, SEEKING TO PREACH FALSE TESTIMONIES, YE FALSE PROPHET!"

"I am no prophet!" retorted Raxri, flipping over a wide kampilan swing, stepping lightly on the blade, and then using that to cut three times while in the air, sending the Chief stumbling backwards in surprise. "I wish to help you and your people find peace!"

"ME AND MY PEOPLE NEED NONE OF THY PEACE! WE ARE NOT BENEATH YOU. LEAVE US TO BE FREE!" They exchanged blows again, Puksa versus the cursed kampilan. Their flurrious round of combat sent burning sparks into the air. The erratic, beastly swings of Chief Dulumnan were countered and defeated by the trained and quick strikes of the Adamantine Sword Practitioner, Raxri Uttara.

"You endanger all those that travel here!" said Raxri. "You rob the good people of your village of their chance at a better life, stuck here as shadows of themselves, unable to become true sentient beings cultivating Enlightenment!"

"THINE ENLIGHTENMENT LEADETH TO NOWHERE BUT HELL AND FURTHER SUFFERING. NO MONK, NO NUNUK LEAGUE WARRIOR CAME TO US DURING OUR DIREST TIME OF NEED, YE LOATHSOME FOOL! WHEN THE DEMON HORDES RAVAGED US, WE WERE THE FIRST LINE OF DEFENSE AGAINST THE WORLD'S END, FACING THE SEA OF THE UNIVERSE. IT WAS UP TO ME. ME!"

Another furious round of combat, trading ferocious blows, suffering gashes and cuts. They moved so fast and Raxri let their Concentration become the whole of their being. Parry, block, deflect turned into counter, kick a shin to knock them off-balance, swing down only to be dodged by an erratic movement, follow it up with a flickering hand with the strength of an elephant.

Raxri gained upper hand as they read and memorized the eratic patterns of Chief Dulumnan. They realized that there was a method to all his madness. The Chief managed a few good strikes in as well but none of them ever broke skin. Raxri's shield yantra tattoos gleamed brightly.

"But you keep your subjects in suffering! You keep yourself in suffering, if you are to stay craving and thirsting for that very thing. You have become a hungry ghost! A monster, who shall never find satisfaction!"

"AND YET I CHOSE THIS OF MY OWN WILL, CRAFTED AND CULTIVATED BY ME. I HAD TO EXCHANGE MY LIFE FOR DEMONIC CULTIVATION: THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP IRI VILLAGE SAFE FROM THE DREAD MARCH OF THE INVINCIBLE BLADE PRINCESS. YE SLATTERN, GRANDSTAND NOT ABOUT THY VIRTUE AND PRECEPTS. ALL I DID WAS PROTECT THE HUMAN LIFE IMPORTANT TO ME! LEAVE THY HYPOCRISY TO BURN!"

As the Chief's Rage increased, their strikes became even more erratic.

Easier to dodge. Raxri weaved and repositioned to easily stay away from the range of the wide kampilan swings. Though the Chief's attack accuracy decreased, the strength of his every blow only increased. With every strike, blades of wind emanated exploded from the sword, slamming and cutting into the very pillars. Raxri dodged one strike by bending forward and then twirling around to get out of being backed into a corner, and the blade shattered against the pillars, shaking the deities depicted in that corner of the house.

"You have spent all you needed to spend in this purgatory," replied Raxri. They traded more blows. Raxri kept themself purely concentrated and focused, even as they spoke, even as they thought of the words to fully convince the Chief that there was a way out. "I am giving you a way out. An absolution! I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this. But there is a way out, there is peace yet to be achieved!"

"NO!" The Chief summoned pallid green Will into their blade and sliced upwards, sending a wave of annihilating energy slicing through the house. Raxri barely dodged it, feinting to the right and then fluttering to the left with a flex of their Will to avoid it completely. "I WILL NOT LEAVE. IF I DO NOT... WHAT WILL ALL OF THIS BE FOR?!"

Raxri's heart mourned. "There is nothing else I can do for you, other than have you be accepted into the Awoken's Mandala and being absolved. A prayer and a chant and then you will be blessed. With the great rebirth mantra your mindstreams will be sent to the Pure Lands to cultivate in bliss!"

"LEAVE US BE. I HAVE NO NEED FOR THY SALVATION!" The Chief struck a perfectly angled diagonal cut.

Raxri parried with a twirling Heavenly Lightning Deflection, parrying the blade into the ground, twirling, and then stepping on the blade. "I offer no salvation but refuge and repose! I am no savior! Just someone that wishes to try and help!"

"THEN THY REWARD SHALT BE DEATH!"

Raxri uttered the mantra of great compassion for a quick moment, and then said: "Then I will have no choice but to eliminate you."

This solicited a hearty laugh from the Chief. "HA! THE HEAVEN DANCER AND THEIR FEARSOME EGO! YOU HAVE LOST ALL YOUR CULTIVATION. YOU HAVE NO POWER BUT IGNORANCE. THOU FACE IMPOSSIBILITY. NOW STAND DOWN AND I SHALT CONSUME THY SUPPLE, BEAUTIFUL FLESH, AND ATTAIN IMMORTALITY. I WILL BRING IRI VILLAGE TO THE HEAVEN BEYOND HEAVEN!"

Raxri sighed. "Then I must show you the extent of my training! Tell me, thorugh all these years, have you cultivated your Will?"

The Chief unleashed a barrage of attacks then. Raxri avoided the first few, parried the next few, and then dove into close range with the Chief so that the rest of his attacks struck the wall behind them. There they unleashed five strikes of Adamant Lightning Strikes, finishing it off with a Devastating Red Hand straight into the chief's reanimated sternum.

"WILL?" The Chief coughed out as it twisted in midair and ground its skeletal feet into the ground so that it did not slam into any part of the house. "MY POWER IS MY WILL. BLESSED AM I WITH THE STRENGTH OF THE CHARNEL WIZARD! MY WILL IS THE WILL OF THIS VERY VILLAGE! I HAVE ATTAINED CHARNEL CULTIVATION!"

The Chief leapt towards Raxri again. Raxri was ready. Blade met blade, converted into an intense trading of blows, but Raxri parried every sword stroke from the chief with a confident live hand. Their clash ended with the Chief on the back foot.

"Then I must tell you that I am far along the Accumulation Stage of the Desire Domain," said Raxri. "With judicious use of my Will cultivation, I will defeat you handily and easily."

"SILENCE, YE CRAZY AMNESIAC! WITHOUT YOUR INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL CULTIVATIONS YOU WILL ACHIEVE NOTHING BUT UNTIMELY DEATH! NOW MEET THY MAKER!"

Raxri dodged three more sword strikes from the Chief, but that was nothing but a distraction. The Chief's skeletal hand shot out and grasped Raxri's entire body--it seemed to enlarge on its own! The Chief leapt into the sky and slammed Raxri down into the hardwood floor, breaking it and sending wood up into the air. Raxri's body groaned in pain. As they bounced up because of the force, the Chief threw down his kampilan straight through Raxri's body.

The kampilan slammed and impaled Raxri onto the floor, and then the Chief Dulumnan's great feet slammed onto the kampilan's pommel, driving it ever deeper. Raxri spat blood in pain. Steel ground against flesh and bone.

The Chief's demon-skull came in close. Parts of his bones had been chipped off. The Chief would not be able to sustain any more damage from this. Wincing, Raxri summoned the Devastating Red Hand. "THOU ART LOST OF ALL POWER. YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEATH. THOU WILL NEVER ATTAIN THE CULTIVATION ONE HAS LOST. NOT FOR A THOUSAND YERS."

"All things unattainable I will attain all the same!"

The Chief scowled. "YOU FOOL!"

"SET MY HEART ABLAZE!" Raxri yelled, a battlecry. Before the Chief could say anymore, Raxri's Devastating Red Hand slamed against the Chief's kampilan and shattered it, effectively removing Raxri from the impalation. Then, with their sword hand, Raxri pierced up, up, up--straight through the Chief's liver, then up the ribcage, and then deep into his floating gleaming gloam-heart.

The Chief screamed. An ear-piercing, spine-chilling sound, ripping through the afternoon light. The zenith sun's rays blasted in through the tear in the roof that the Chief himself had made.

Raxri wasn't done, however: they corkscrewed, sending the Chief off of them completely. Then, before the Chief was blown away completely, they unleashed Strikes 1 and 2 of Adamant Lightning Strikes, slashing in miniature circles that turned into big circles and then finally into arcs that cut straight down, swordwhips that struck like the thunderbolt.

The Chief skidded across the longhouse floor, tumbled and then slammed into the pillar.

As Raxri hit the ground, they bounced up with a push of their feet, spun in mid-air, threw Puksa blade first into the Chief's heart, pinning them there.

Raxri performed the mudra on both hands to summon Devastating Red Hand onto both of them. Kicked the shattered pieces of the kampilan into the air. Punched while they were in midair, sending a rain of kampilan fragments cutting into the skeletal mien of Chief Dulumnan.

The final one was the kampilan's handle, which still had a larger chunk of its original blade, now turned into a jagged edge. Raxri twirled and kicked the pommel in mid-air, sending it straight, straight, straight into Chief Dulumnan's cranium, splitting it in half, embedding it into the pillar behind him.

The longhouse fell silent, then.

The skewered through body of Chief Dulumnan groaned. "THOU... A MOTE OF THE HEAVEN DANCER'S POWER YET. HEAVEN HATH FUCKING LIED TO ME ONE LAST TIME..."

Raxri only watched, their face resolute. They performed the great rebirth mantra and the compassion mantra as the chief slowly melted into violet balls of flame that would eventually dissipate into fireflies. "HA! AND EVEN AFTER ALL THIS..." the Chief said, even as his voice grew smaller and smaller, as his Will dissipated. "THOU DEEMETH ME WORTHY OF COMPASSION YET. AH, MY HATRED FOR THEE IS UNSURPASSABLE..."

Raxri continued uttering the mantra as the bony skeletal death chief completely turned into balls of flame, that eventually dissipated into the ever flowing mindstream. "May you walk in light again," chanted Raxri. At that moment, the sun shone upon them.

A moment of silence for the now departed. Raxri looked around for whatever other items they might be able to use. The first thing they did was walk over to where Puksa was. There they noticed the deep crimson headwrap that was upon Chief Dulumnan's head. Raxri took that and tied it around their right bicep, where a cut been engraved. Retrieving Puksa, they looked around a bit more.

A shrine on the western portion of the longhouse. No doubt it belonged to gods whose faces and hands were now desecrated. Raxri uttered a mantra of protection and took a step forward. They found rotting fruit and stale water upon the offering plate. Raxri threw those away and replaced them with grains of rice and a freshly lit joss stick. They bowed three times in respect.

Raxri felt eyes watching them. They fully expected a god to appear, showing themselves finally... but none did. Did this community still have a guardian deity? No... perhaps not. Perhaps that's why Chief Dulumnan was brought to such extents.

When Raxri ascertained that there were no more accoutrements or regalia to find, they bowed three times in the direction of the throne room, and then walked outside of the door, back into the town.

Outside, piles of corpses littered the ground. Despite this, there was no smell of fresh corpses, and there was a certain lighter tint to the air. Similar to the moment where morning first rises after the darkest part of the night. The corpses were the reanimated, now completely cut from the strings of the black sorceries of the charnel path. Raxri uttered the great rebirth mantra as they walked through the village. They realized now too that the houses here had been replaced with run down ruins: the truth behind the illusions, no doubt, cast by the same sorcery as the Dread Chief Dulumnan.

As they walked to the center of the village, drinking an elixir of health to help their wounds heal and to recover all their stamina, Raxri noticed a lithe and tall man, skin the color of alabaster, hair as black as the abyss. Their eyes were the color of gray basalt. They wore a shawl-cloak of pure black, with indigo script inscribed upon it in seemingly haphazard placement. Underneath the shawl-cloak they wore pure black raiment: shadow cloak, tunic, wrap-around robes, trousers, hands wrapped in blackened cloth, and wrap-boots. Over their shoulder was slung a leather bag, made from the skin of crocodiles.

Upon his brow, Raxri noticed, was a vertical eye tattoo, the color of bright blue.

Raxri froze in their tracks.

The man watched, curiously.