"To gain epithets is a sign of respect and courage and power. To wield it is a sign of skill. To depend on it is a sign of weakness. To abuse it is a sign of shame. Remember that you are not your names, and neither are your names you. Nameful, nameless... you shall be broken upon the wheel all the same."
From the Annals of the Violet Lotus Sect
Over the next couple of weeks, Koago ramped up Xing's training. Xing could eventually perfectly parry rote slashes and routine sword strokes. This kind of muscle reflex sparring was invaluable for when it comes to the heat of actual battle and combat. When your mind leaves you and your reaction time is unsynced from your consciousness, it will be your battle reflexes—your unconscious—that will take it over. This is why many Law-Abiding Martial Arts focus on cultivating powerful unconscious thought through rote practice, to be able to move without thought and consciousness. Ultimately, this blasts open the doors of conceptual thought, and opens the doors for pure thought—thinking without concept and consciousness. This Tranquil Darkmind is one step closer to the Gnosis of the Omniscients.
Koago made a mental note once—after he failed to strike Xing's head as she very subtly leaned down before striking—that Xing's height will be both a boon and a bane. A boon because she will be able to get anywhere she might need, and her height will be tricky against taller opponents. A bane because she will have a hard time reaching higher weak spots in battle. She will have to compensate with greater prowess over Lightness techniques. Which, Koago realized, was just as well.
One of the training breakthroughs they needed to do was to help her ascend to the Accumulation Stage. She had been able to ascend from Soil to Heat to Lightning-Enterer with relative ease with the foods that they had been eating, but Accumulation required larger amounts of Cultivation and experience. She would have to do something drastic to accumulate greater Power.
Koago knew that before she could enter into the Ultramystic Sect and begin cultivating a Limitless Violence Womb, she would have to reach Accumulation Stage first. Then, she will train with Sutasoma until she reaches Emergence, and then she will begin to fight on truly level ground with the rest of the Realms Belligerent.
Usually, this would be done through Ritual and/or meritorious acts. But for the martial masters of the Realms Belligerent, fighting is enough to cultivate Ardor. The act of reveling in life, in pushing one's self to the limit, generates copious amounts of merit and Ardor that could be used to feed one's Furnace, to turn it into a Womb.
"Today, we will indulge in vigilantism."
Xing blinked. It was so early that the sun hadn't even risen yet. She rubbed her eyes as she ate her chocolate rice porridge with dried fish. She had barely gotten out of bed, hadn't even switched clothes. Her bedclothes consisted of a chestwrap and some baggy harem pants that clipped at the ankles. This was what she trained in in the day before that! "I don't understand, guro..."
"Hurry and drink your wira." Wira was the name of a chocolate malted drink that has become widely popular in the Utter Islands. Manufactured by Gussio Corporation, one of the richest companies affiliated with the Central Yavinian Guild. The name comes from Wirabala of Yotthan, an ancient Mahabidaran strength athlete and olympian. The drink itself was constructed by capitalist alchemist Miyanna Tam, who sold it for the first time in the World Tonics Exposition in the year 11,598.
Xing did so.
Sipped.
Blinked.
"Huh," she said. "This one tastes slightly weird." Not bad weird, but definitely a bit weirder. It felt like something hot behind her throat.
"It's mixed with power spices to strengthen you and get you jogging," said Koago, grinning. He gestured to Irowa. "Irowa here managed to grab some from a traveling merchant on the way to Ramatthei Town."
Xing nodded, understanding just a bit better now. There was a heat she felt rising from the bottom of her stomach. Was this her Ardor Furnace being stoked? "It seems to be working."
"It should grant you Ardor to better reach Accumulation Stage. Now, once you're done with your breakfast, meet me outside."
Outside, Koago had prepared an array of weapons laid upon a rubber mat. Made from some sort of rubbery dragon. He stood behind it, wearing now his full battle gear—leather lamellar drenched a dark deep blue, overlaid by a heavy leather long-sleeved coat that reached his ankles, and then a cloak with sacred syllables, mantras, and protection dharanis woven and embroidered in gold against its dark blue silk. This cloak provided a hood for Koago to wear should he need it. In the darkness of the ante-morning, Koago looked like the night sky riddled with bullet holes for stars.
Before him were three weapons. All blades. One was a double-edged straight sword, another was a single-edged longknife. Finally the last one was a long-handled weapon, with a wide and long single edged blade curving forward, with an almost equally long handle, so that one could use two hands to properly maneuver its hefty blade. The two-handed sword-axe, its length was great for warding off multiple opponents at once, creating a devastating control zone of steel thorns.
It was around 160cm long. It was taller than Xing herself!
Xing had been trained in all three of these over the months. The sword for flexible striking, the longknife for ferocious carving and unrelenting strikes and for the greater benefit and advantage of being able to cut through foliage and underbrush, and the greatsword for creating zones of control, acting more or less like a bladed polearm, as well as having greater reach and the ability to unhore. Not to mention the momentum one could create with the swings of such a weapon.
The doublehanded sword-axe used the same techniques as the two-hander greatsword.
Xing had always been enamored with the sword-axe. She was not very tall—she would always concede that. It helped with her acrobatics to be on the much shorter side of the average scale. But to have a greatsword fulfilled two things. First is that it was a very utilitarian choice for her—she could reach and match the wingspans of longer-armed and taller combatants. Secondly, because have a weapon that was larger than she was filled her with a sort of schaudenfreudian glee and exhilaration. It felt comical! It was theatrical!
But first, she had a question. She was genuinely confused. She asked: "What is this about, master?" asked Xing. She felt the chill of the morning cold. She pulled her hands up to cover herself.
"Ah, right. Here." Koago snapped his fingers, summoning a vertical drawer. "Open it."
Xing did so. Within was her own battlegear, for the first time. A white camise with extra wide sleeves and harem pants embroidered with dharani prayers in crimson. The camise was not very long, and Xing raising her arms revealed her midriff and underbreasts. Bracers made of hardwood lacquered with red paint. A conical hat to protect from vertical strikes, also lacquered scarlet. Leather boots for protection. Over it all was a pa?uelo of pi?a fiber dyed excessively red, with embroidery patterns of vajra-stakes and lotus flowers, with the entire Infinite Umbra Sutra for protection sewn in gold. The pa?uelo—the fichu, a lace-like embroidered neck shawl worn around the shoulders—was one of the most common pieces of clothing for both men and women in the Selorong region.
Xing put it on. It was warmer than she anticipated. She looked at Koago's own battlegear and said: "Will I not be wearing any armor?"
"Wearing armor means you are of soldiery, or infantry. It is better to travel across the Realms Belligerent without attracting that kind of attention. I have taken great pains to make sure that you do not look like someone with martial experience." He pointed at the protection dharanis. "Those protective prayers and sacred syllables upon your shirts work as a protective layer. It will buffet you from strikes and slashes, though too powerful attacks can break through, and of course attacks can slip past your lace. But for the most part, those silk and cloth clothings will work with the strength of leather lamellar. It is state of the art armory technology. Worry not." Koago looked proud of himself. Xing understood why he might be.
She performed the crown reverence to her master in thanks. Koago bowed in return. "Now," he said, continuing. "These three are weapons from my own Astral Armory. Each one is made of meteorite iron, inlaid with intaglios of finest Isanan starsilver, durable like Metom and forged with the finest smithing techniques by artisan-wizards. In other words, old friends." He smiled and waved to the weapons. "Choose one. Which one calls to you? Which weapon bears karmic binding to you?"
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Immediately, a single weapon felt just right. In the sense that is impossible to understand and even more impossible to express. The calling of the Unconcievable. Some might think it is taste beyond reason. A calling of the sublime. Others might call it culturally influenced taste. Even others might call it karmic fate. But it is inexpressible and Real all the same.
Xing stepped forward, cloths and silks flowing about her like her body was a field and the tassels were the flowers swaying in a windswept flower plain. She reached down and touched the hilt of the greatsword. It rang with a harmonious clang—her fingers the mace and the handle the bell. Was this the call of karmic bonds?
The blade itself was beautiful, as she picked it up and hefted it. Against the now rising sun she realized that the blade was a gleaming black. It only looked metallic silver against the darkness of the night. Its handle was truly long, and its blade curved forward and then blossomed into a metal-design made to resemble the side-silhouette of a lion. It must have used a lot of meteorite iron to use, for it was a very wide and long blade. Its handle was made of brass and leather, and some might even say that it was not a handle at all! It was a sculpture of many gods, stacked on top of each other, with many different faces and many hands supporting each other.
"It is called Darkness Cleaving Sunrise," said Koago. "A beautiful and well-made weapon, would you not agree?"
"It is," said Xing. "Does it hold any powers within its heart?"
Koago nodded. "Indeed it does. It is a Treasure of the Realms Belligerent, one of the many. You will eventually learn to unlock its very internal powers, what we call its Inner Power, with the strength of your own Ardor and Cultivation. Who knows—maybe later, during your training, you will unlock its first Inner Power."
"Darkness Cleaving Sunrise..." Her eyes glimmered as she looked at it. She stroked the blunt edge with a delicate finger. Then, vengeance seized her heart. "P-Perhaps with it, I will be able to slay whoever slaughtered my troupe. My family." The glimmer in her eyes was tears.
There was a sad smile in Koago's face. A cloud passing through the sun cast a shadow upon it. He said: "What makes you think someone did that to your family? What if it was a twist of fate? A trick of destiny? A mandate of heaven?"
"Then..." Xing turned, crying, to face Koago. "Then I will slay fate. I will destroy destiny. I will topple Heaven from its haughty haunches!"
Koago smile became sadder. His eyebrows arced upwards. It was both pity and fear. What will I mold out of your rage...? "What if it was the results of karma?"
"Then karma must be annihilated," said Xing. She wiped the tears off her face with her new bracers.
"You will slaughter the very gods and break reality itself in the name of your vengeance?"
Xing nodded. She said the following without the steely look of a young hero, but the unfocused, hands-trying-to-stop-the-tears motions of a late teenager whose family had been ripped away from her: "Until all the hells are empty."
A shock resonated throughout Koago. A ringing, like a bell struck. Until all beings are free... "Commit Tremendous Violence, Xing Naramao."
Xing smiled, nodded. A glistening in her eyes. She will become the Sword Dancer she needs to be. She will commit tremendous violence, as mandated by her master. She will do it upon the ideological grounds of compassion and emptiness.
Xing, in her full battle garb, looked almost like a sky dancer. Long flowing hair—she had chopped it off during training in the beginning, but it grew much longer as she performed Body Cultivation—that shimmered a pure, cream-white. The color of magnolias. Her eyes a sheer pale gray as well. Her skin pale brown against her ivory fashion. It made sense for the Sword Dancer to look like a Sky Dancer—those powerful dakinis, the demon goddess of the skies that ripped open the firmament to reveal Enlightenment to the old Omniscients.
Later that day, they traveled on the dirt road path. Beside them there were crude stone roads for autocars to zoom through. Though the majority of autocars going through were supply wagons and the like, sending produce and other commodities from plantations and farms to the capitalists and vendors in the city and larger municipalities. It bears noticing now that autocars are mostly confined to highly urban areas and areas directly connected to urban development. Selorong, Uzu, Tsing-ssi, Soreh, Mun, Raten, and all the other capital cities would have them as well.
A few kilometers north was the village of Kabini, which was mostly a pit stop for travelers and other autocars. It was a quaint village stationed beside the river, so while it wasn't too big, it wasn't too small either, as steamboats and autocars would often use it as a stopover. Its major business therefore became accommodating these travelers—pop up shops, carinderias, diners, noodleshops, teahouses, and inns.
And that also made it a prime stop for highwaymen.
"Listen up," said Koago, as they rode upon a water buffalo named Jekjek. "Bandits have congregated around Selorong. They've made a pretty good profit disrupting supply lines and stealing items and commodities for their own gain. Now, make no mistake, there are two major factions of bandit groups here in Selorong. Firstly, the Malachite Daggers. These guys are almost always armed to the teeth, with group compositions that echo the compositions of Selorongian National Army Squads."
Xing furrowed her eyebrows. She knew about the Malachite Daggers. It was those guys who wore some piece of green-blue on their body to make people know it was them. Commonly it was bandanas or armwraps, though the more higher ups among them would wear jackets, longcoats, and cheongsams of malachite. The highest in their chain of command were warriors who wielded skystone weapons—weapons made of the stone substance that falls from the firmament of the sky, which are colored malachite.
"I never noticed that they grouped up similarly to National Army Squads," said Xing, tapping her chin. Her giant sword-axe, Darkness Cleaving Sunrise, leaned against her shoulder. She brought it around like it was a longstaff.
"Well," Koago was munching on a bubblegum. He blew a bubble and it popped immediately. "It's more than just coincidence. It's not a matter of if politicians or bourgeoisie are funding and coordinating them, but which one. Our biggest bet right now is Mitangga. He's the one that lobbied hard for the Bill on Anti-Terrorism so that he can push out the Communists from the City, and he used the Malachite Blade to justify it. It might also be Idondo. He's a high-up member of Qastilang Corporation, and they have a mining corporation—Asakana Mining Corp.—under their belt. He uses the bandits to push out indigenous communities, refugees, settlers, and militant revolutionaries."
Xing is all caught up with these politicians at this point. The political situation of Selorong was a circus, of course. It's all a shadow-show so that everyone that gets in gets the money they want while those that want to stay in power pull all the strings. The corruption is high in Selorong because the politics is built on corruption.
Of course, all of this knowledge she'd gathered from aunties and uncles that would stop by her performance troupe, or serve her food, or she'd eat with while traveling around, in the various carinderias that pocked the world. Other times it was straight from forest revolutionaries themselves, bandits in their own right. These ones made sure to try and educate the people as much as possible. These ones had a beauty sizzling within them. They were the mud and they were the lotus. Though just as many had hearts of iron—that was to say, tempered from battle. Others also had hearts of oppressors and predators, according to the things they so nonchalantly said when Xing would walk past them.
The world truly is penetrated by the Ultimate Reality of Difference.
Xing said: "Wouldn't it be the Naofa Rici? Or even the Republic's President Mariche?" Naofa Rici was the current Commander General of the SNA, the Selorongian National Army.
Koago nodded. "Mariche is in on it, of course. His father was the first Iron Fist Imperator of the Selorongian Republic, after all. Anatungga Mariche? But no, Mariche Junior is benefitting from having the bandits up, but he's not the one commandeering them. Naofa Rici is definitely in on it as well, and he commandeers them and coordinates them, but he does not fund them. Ultimately, we believe it's not a single politician, but a large number of them. And all of them are funded in turn by the Ressen-Nalenjese government, particularly the Central Yavinian Guild, to better control the Selorong region."
"I thought the Ressen-Nalenjese are the Stalwarts of Universal Democracy?" Xing raised an eyebrow.
Koago scoffed. "More like the Bulwark Barons of International Capital," he said. "They need to keep everything in crisis to justify their interventions. They need to intervene to 'lawfully', 'morally', and 'ethically' exploit the people within. And more importantly, to sell weapons. Remember—the most lucrative indsutry of the Ressen-Nalenjese empire isn't their fruits nor their machines. It's their weapons."
"Right." Xing had heard about that. About how Selorong was nothing but a neocolony to Ressen-Nalenji ever since the United Union of Peace won the Second World Revolution and violently crushed the Communist Revolutionaries underfoot. Though the revolutionaries that had begun her education on the matter couldn't finish it because an SNA platoon had descended upon the town they were resting in. "The fight continues apace. Stay safe. Until all beings are free, my comrade," the revolutionary had said, picking up his sundang, spear, and talisman, before riding out of the town. He was an exceedingly handsome fellow too.
"Anyway," said Koago. "The other most common bandit faction in the hinterlands of Selorong are the PLA. The People's Liberation Army. Aligned with the International Communists of the Wheel. Particularly, the PLA are aligned with the Hundred Compassionate Arms of Violence, a sect of Communist Martial Followers of the Law, who burgeoned and survived here after the Second World Revolution. They continue the fight of Dattreya Wairini, who fought for a free Selorong and eventually a free world. You'll know them from their Violet armbands and/or turbans and headwraps. They follow the Violet Flag of Liberation. The sublimation of the contradictions that is the summation of Communism."
"Hm. I see." Xing looked up. "What is... Communism, master?"
"One of the many Alignments of this world," said Koago. "The World and especially the Realms Belligerent find themselves aligned with one or more Alignments—your sociopolitical truth, ideology, reality. Many of the sects will have an Alignment, even if many of them think they have no such politics within their ranks. That is a sign of idiocy, for every thing is politics. The very word means 'affairs of the cities and its citizens.' And what are we but citizens of the world city? Though if one were to plot it along a diamond graph, one would find it to be at the top, emphasizing the freedom of all peoples from oppression. One would find capitalism at the bottom, emphasizing continued exploitation for maximum profit. One is compassion, the other is efficiency."
Xing raised an eyebrow. "And on the left and right?"
"On the left is radicality," said Koago. "Subversion, free from chains of tradition and sociocultural morality. On the right is traditionalism. Safety in the ways of the Primevals, the Wisdom of the Elders. Free from the chains of danger and hurt. Ancestor worship and hero worship."
"And the alignments of the world pock this graph?"
"You got it on the head. But, ah, I am not the right person to educate you on the ins and outs of revolutionary communism. Just know that every communist fights until all beings are free, and that aligns well with the Martyr-Saint Tenets of the Law. Communism is a process, an action—it is the effort in which present exploitative conditions are destroyed. And in this violence a new world—a better one—must arise."

