"The smallest mote of materiality is labeled ultimite by Mountain Scientists. This is not actually made of ultima, but it is the closest thing to the foundational material, which makes up the atoms, which make up the worlds. Ultimite is empty of all essence or quality. They are sometimes strands, sometimes intertwined, sometimes dots."

From the Calamity World Manuscript

Mijja had two thoughts throughout all of this.

First, she thought that Raxri in motion was a breathtaking sight. The martial arts novels she would read back then always spoke about jade beauties. Raxri was the closest one to that, Mijja thought. Their beauty was the closest to jade—a ruddy jade, but a jade nonetheless. Like a lotus blossoming from muddy waters. Or willow cypresses swaying in the wind. Their face was small like an orchid and yet sharp and striking like a tiger. They moved with a sinuousness that they themselves for sure did not realize. The way they carried themself...

Everytime Raxri's eyes would meet Mijja's she fought the urge to look away. As if watching them would have hypnotized her. She was not attracted to them, no. It was not attraction nor infatuation. It was a modicum of enrapturement that they felt. A sudden enlightenment to the fact that Raxri hid a sliver of greater power beneath and within. Raxri held the prowling wrath of a genderless tiger. They were beautiful in the same way a flower was beautiful—men and women could admire them forever.

Her second thought was that all of what was happening was very over the top and fancy. Or perhaps too esoteric for her. She was nothing but a physicker in training, after all... She'd never thought of communism or the People's Army or the Demiurge or the bourgeoisie. I mean, she's learned about it and it's been taught to her by organizations in her classes and in her school but other than that she knew absolute nothing else about it. Was it that important?

Has her opulence blinded her?

"Once you accept the Cultivation Womb," said Sutasoma. "We will begin with the training for creating the Limitless Violence Womb. That is the Cultivation of our Ultramystic Sect. That will help you unlock your mind to Enlightened Killing. More importantly, it will helpy you shoulder the negative karma of other beings and transform it into Killing Energies and Killing Spirits for you to wield. That is the core of Kroma Nagmi's Slaughter-Magicks. It is the sacred alchemy of transforming one's own Hellbound Karma into Ultimate Compassion. It is one of the hardest sects, one of the more difficult ones. It is why, despite our commune being more or less popular in our sector of Selorong, many are scared of us. Due to wrong conceptions of what our sect stands for, what our sect does, and what the commune means. Of course, this is on top of neoliberal capitalist propaganda, which is common, popular, and very effective. It's called marketing after all."

Raxri snorted. They looked off the roof and at Selorong. What hell lies within there?

"And then after that, you will chose your main martial art. You can Cultivate multiple wombs at a time, creating your own unique womb from your own experiences. You can take on Dialectical Sword or Deathless Blade." She paused and turned to Mijja. "One has already been chosen for the young princess healer."

Mijja blinked. She was sipping her matcha oat milk latte. "You do?" Raxri couldn't help but feel like she was a sister that they'd never had. It was a gut feeling, from the depths of their Cultivation Womb. One of those ineffable, inconcievable feelings that felt like would be possible.

"Yes. Compassion Magicks. The ultimate healing magicks. We have someone who can teach it to you in this very commune."

Mijja blinked again. Then it was true? Was she going to be learning under Pasuga Diayong Isidori himself? "I look forward to it, master."

"But I will be your Grounds Master anyway, so that you can cultivate the proper Cultivation Womb."

Raxri scratched their chin. "A Grounds Master? Why do we need the proper Cultivation Womb, master Sutasoma? Isn't it enough to be learning multiple martial arts?"

"It is," said Sutasoma. "However, oftentimes it will not be enough anymore. The martial arts masters and sect leaders of the times of yore often did just that. But the problem with that kind of training is that it was non-transferable and difficult to pass down. What all Cultivations need is a proper and good Grounds. A Grounds colors and influences every choice you take in regards to your Cultivation path. The Lawkeepers—those that follow the Infinite Law and the Conquering King Law of the Omniscients—understand this. The Infinite Lawkeepers base their grounds on Compassion, while the Conquering King Law base their grounds on meditative liberation. It is, in essence, the reason for your Cultivation."

"With your Cultivation Grounds, master. What do you Cultivate for?"

"Limitless Violence is not a new Cultivation," said Sutasoma, leaning back on her chair. She sipped on her tea. "In fact, it is one of the oldest Cultivations. It is the Cultivations of Wellbeing and Thriving. It is the Cultivation of Philosophers and Socialists of the time of yore. I am one of the many students of Dattreya Wairini, the Thrice-Awoken. Dattreya Wairini preached the Ultimate Truth: that at the core of all things is Violence, which is empty and in flux. Limitless Violence is a Cultivation Womb built from her teachings. Cultivating it gives you the Grounds of Community: the more you cultivate, the stronger your community becomes."

"How does that work?" asked Mijja, now suddenly interested as well. For all she knew about Cultivation, it was about cultivating yourself and your own powers. Cultivating your understanding and wisdom and compassion.

"Cultivation is not a singular thing, you see," said Sutasoma, looking up at the sky. She was beautiful again, Raxri realized. There was a sense of sickly longing on her face, her features the perfect blend of Shennin and Selorongian and Ratenese. "When one says Cultivation, it simply means: development and accumulation. The first Cultivators were the sages and the hermits. They cultivated wisdom and understanding, accumulating merit so they could tap into the Cosmic Mind. The next Cultivators were the monks and mendicants, who cultivated asceticism and mortification, accumulating merit and virtue so that they could be liberated from the fetters of society. The next Cultivators after that were the warriors and kings, who corrupted the act of Cultivation from a peaceful and serene one to a violent and decadent one. They too cultivated virtue and merit, but the trap of Cultivation is that it brought with it power. And with power came Ego. And with Ego came destruction.

"Cultivation is a tool, there is no moral dimension to it. It is up to the individual who cultivates, that is the way of things. However, one of the most powerful Cultivations was always revolution. Kings and Empires always were overthrown whenever they would oppress the others. And even more so they would be overthrown when they would try to crush others' attempts to Cultivate merit and virtue against them. It was integral that the King or the Knight cultivates more than the normal person.

"This became a common reason for many Revolutions, to the point that Revolution Itself became a point of sudden and spontaneous Mass Cultivation. Dattreya Wairini was able to seize and win Selorong and establish the Selorong Commune against all odds—against the modern weaponries of the vast empires and celestial societies—due to her capturing of the spontaneity of Revolution. She created a Cultivation that Cultivated Mass Consciousness. Cultivated Compassion for all and also collective power and strength. She understood that to have one Cultivator is good. But to have your entire force be all Cultivators? That is the key to victory.

"Limitless Violence is this—as you Cultivate your Limitless Violence Womb, you also cultivate the Community around you. Your power disseminates. When you're fighting with someone also Cultivating Limitless Violence, your Wombs are supercharged, exponentially strengthened, allowing you to perform feats of martial and magickal art that would be impossible otherwise. You Cultivate the Limitless Violence Womb not just by meditation and elixirs anymore. You Cultivate it by fulfilling errands for your community, helping your community get stronger, protecting your community and so on. In return, the community will help you back. They will grant you the ingredients you need to create powerful elixirs, medicines, and ritual spaces to strengthen your own womb, to help you improve your martial training, to help you sharpen your magickal prowess. That is the Law of Dialectics."

"Dialectics?"

"A common teaching among the Sages of the Utter Islands. As there is Black, so there is White. As there is Positive Ardor, so there is Negative Ardor. It is in the intermixing of these two that nonduality arises—the truth of the world is that the black is the white and the white is the black. Samsara is Nirvana, Nirvana is Samsara. Heaven is Earth, and Earth is Heaven. Man is God, and God is Man."

A serene silence wafted over the small assembly. Perhaps it was because of the multiple days of sleep that they just had, but Raxri could somewhat grok what Sutasoma was trying to say.

The interplay of opposing forces is the force in itself.

Is this the secret to Cultivation?

"And with that, I will ask you again, Raxri Uttara. Will you fulfill Akazha's Death Wish, and become my student?"

It was not a matter of if to Raxri. It was a matter of how. Of course Raxri wanted to fulfill Akazha's Death Wish. Even more so, Raxri wanted to fulfill Akazha's Death Curse. They knew for a fact that if Akazha weren't there, upon that Temple of Dak Emmara Senje, then they would have fallen prey to the prowling bandits and pirates of the Utter Islands. Perhaps they would have been killed and the world would have stayed the same. Or worse, they would have been sold to slavery or whatever form of human exploitation yet exists within the Utter Islands.

I owe my whole life to Akazha, thought Raxri. It is only fair that I dedicate it to her as well.

Raxri looked to Sutasoma and nodded. "Of course. I have no other recourse. I need to be your student. I need to fulfill my vengeance. Not just for me, but for Akazha as well."

"You do understand that we are one of the few Lawkeeping Sects that commit slaughter and murder," said Sutasoma, a slight teasing grin bubbling at the corners of her mouth.

Raxri was still shaky on this. Everyone around them kept telling them that they had to kill. It was something they had to do. But deep in their heart and their core it felt viscerally wrong. Perhaps through cultivating the Limitless Violence Womb... "Yes. I will take all of this as my own."

Sutasoma nodded. "In any other circumstance it would be a bragging right to me to say that the Heaven Dancer is my student. But you are no longer that Heaven Dancer. And our circumstances are completely different."

Raxri nodded.

"Come. Let us welcome you into the scarlet fold."

The trio made their way into the pagoda of Kroma Nagmi once again. That same pagoda where Akazha's corpse was distilled by way of smelting through Samadhi Fires. Its vaunted roof and solid pillars were still infused with the smell of sandalwood incense intermingling with jasmines for the dead.

Across the room, on the other side, was a buddha statue—the buddha being Kroma Nagmi. Her six arms holding a different weapon, three faces, skin the color of night. Breasts dangling and legs spread to show off her scarlet genitalia, in the middle of which is an ebon vajra. Her eyes also similarly glinted with the burning crimson. Her knife-sharp teeth could slice through all Law-Deniers. Her ears were sharp. Her visage was of wrath and iron—the holiest of Omniscient Visages. Show this to a Yenjanist or an Eolomite and they will tremble and cough and cry at the sight of "demon worship." But the more transversive an image, the more radical and more fetter-breaking it is. And the more radical and fetter-breaking something is, the closer it is to the Inconcievable.

In the middle of the room was the mandala. The mandala showcased a seven pointed star. Within each of the stars' rays was a differently colored lotus. Black, indigo, blue, green, white, yellow, and red. In the middle of the mandala star was an empty space, though a starburst hovered above it.

Sutasoma waved her hand and the giant doors of the pagoda crushed closed. Locked by an internal jade mechanism. The brilliant red lacquer of the pagoda's reverence room bathed all of them in an eerie crimson glow.

The only thing keeping the entire room lit were the red candles all around the room. There were other Omniscient and Savior statues peppered around the room of course, each in their own different shrine housing and with their own different offering plate, water offering, and flower offering. But the largest and most numerous ones belonged to great Kroma Nagmi. Giant lotuses, hibiscuses, and palm leaf flower origami. Pieces of rotting meat, bone, skulls, and fish. All unsalted.

There was no one else in the room but the three of them. Mijja stood back at a respectful distance, standing with one hand cradling the other. She bit her lip, locks of her hair stringing down the front of her small face.

The star mandala in the middle of the room was upon a raised dais. There was no ritual furnace pot in the middle any more. Sutasoma approached the raised platform and removed her clothing, revealing her body of curves. Like the Moon Goddess had swished Sutasoma to life with her Lunar Paintbrush. Sutasoma's body was surprisingly soft looking, though despite the curves her bones peeked through her skin. Though her face was of a beauty told only in myths, the rest of her body did not fit the usual beauty standards in the Time of Calamity, especially with the beauty standards imposed by the International Order of the Central Yavinian Guild and the forces of Ressen-Nalenji. Her breasts were not voluptuous, they sagged beautifully upon her chest. Her buttocks were not perfectly round, they were flat against her back. But all these only made her more beautiful, and she knew this for a fact. She did not need to conform to the standards of the Patriarky.

"Come with me," said Sutasoma, turning to offer her hand to Raxri. She offered it down, for she was already much taller than Raxri, and she was also floating a few centimeters off of the ground. Unlashed from gravity, untethered by the Laws of the Earth.

Raxri blinked, but they were at the point of no return. They removed the sarong and shirt that they had been given—moving the shirt past the porcelain arm took a bit to get used to. Their entire body had turned into an even ruddier shade of brown after all the months of fighting and training. Their muscle definition was enviable—their abdomen was flat like a washboard. Their clavicles and shoulders suprmely defined, their back muscles rippling. Though Raxri did not have much in mass—they had a wiry, nigh feminine-athlete's bodily makeup—they made up for it in the aesthetics of their muscles. Their chest had the shadow of breasts—they could easily pass off for a more masculine body should Raxri wear clothings that did not accentuate the feminine curves. Their penis hung lightly from their groin, and as Raxri walked up to the platform they could feel it hardening. Both in arousal and in enlightenment—trickles of semen turning into motes of Enlightenment-Essence as they stepped upon the star-mandala.

As they stepped upon the mandala, light burst from it. Strings of mantra syllables swirled about them. They had begun the procedure with just their very presences. Raxri took Sutasoma's hand and the Ultramystic led them to the middle, where they were made to sit in a lotus sitting position. Completely naked, their bodies were bathed in clear light.

They sat in lotus seat positions across each other. Then, Sutasoma said: "Triple reverences."

Raxri did as such. They performed the Crown Reverence, the Mouth Reverence, and the Heart Reverence. And then they bowed and prostrated completely to Sutasoma."

"Arise," said Sutasoma, and Raxri did so, and both of them rose ot their feet. Sutasoma continued: "With my authority as the Ultramystic Sutasoma, Adamantine Cultivator of the Womb of Limitless Violence, I induct you into the ranks of the Ultramystic Sect, where you will cultivate the Thousand Swords Against Heaven Martial Art and the Womb of Limitless Violence. Repeat after me. Until all the hells are empty."

Raxri spoke, and they felt a lump in their throat. They fought past it. Tears trickled down. It burned, sizzled, vaporized as it met the Clear Light emanating from the mandala. The flowers upon each ray of the seven-spoked star began floating, flurried by invisible winds or perhaps the Breath of the World. "Until all the hells are empty."

"Until all beings are free."

"Until all beings are free."

"May my Waking-Mind flourish with the inconceivable essence of the Enlightenment Thought..."

"May my Waking-Mind flourish with the inconceivable essence of the Enlightenment Thought..."

"May all reach Violence."

"May all reach Violence."

These words... Raxri thought. It sounded much like Akazha's own. She truly was a student of the Ultramystic.

Sutasoma nodded. "With the power invested in me by the greater strengths and Death Wish of Akazha, I will now imbibe upon thee the Cultivation of your Guro, and in so doing supercharge your own enlightenment." Sutasoma performed a single hand seal, and the Devil Witch Elixir appeared in her hands. She unstoppered it, and then drank all of it in one gulp.

Then, with another hand seal, she reached out and took Raxri's chin, jaws, face in her hands. They burned a blinding white, the color of divinity and post-divinity. Then she bent down and kissed Raxri. As she kissed Raxri, they let out the flask of Akazha's Distilled Essence, letting it drip slowly into Raxri's throat.

It burned Raxri's throat. But as Raxri drank they could feel their body lightening. Strengthening. Worse, they felt a raging blaze at the base of their liver, where their Ardor Furnace was. Their Cultivation Womb burgeoned, strengthened, and then exploded into Black Flame. Raxri will never be the same again. Each drop of the Devil Witch Elixir incinierated them. Disintegrated them. Consumed them in conflagration from the inside out. The power was unbearable, the strength and the wisdom and the enlightenment brought Raxri to near brokenness. Can their body and their mind actually attain understanding?

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Sutasoma spoke and said: "Let me lead you."

Raxri opened their eyes and they saw nothing but starbursts and supernovas endlessly interlooping and interlacing into emptiness. "I cannot handle this..."

"You can," said Sutasoma. "Your training with Akazha and the monk of Giant Stone Monastery has readied you precisely for this moment. All you must do is let go."

"How?"

"Your thoughts cloud you and swirl you. Conceptualization is nothing but the fetters that bind you from realizing the Inconceivable Real that is outside the borders of language. The Unutterable."

"I... I am trying to grasp." Raxri choked. They flailed around with their hands. Their hands met the soft flesh of Sutasoma. Supple at first touch and then surprisingly solid when pressed against. Iron underneath cotton. "I do not understand."

"Let go of all grasping. Especially understanding. The attempt to understand is one of the greatest Chains to Conceptualization."

In the midst of brain-shattering Elixir drops dripping from their kisses, Raxri could not find the time to form a proper coherent thought. All the thoughts that arose from their mind was like lightning trying to understand. Trying to stay atop. Trying to seize reality with incomplete reason.

"You have Compassion," said Sutasoma, her voice now overwhelming Raxri as she slipped near her ear. "Let me grant you Wisdom."

From the outside, Mijja could see it all. Flurrying winds had kicked up within the room, as if a tornado had invaded the room and refused to let go. Refused to relinquish the domain of Kroma Nagmi from raging reality to safe human comprehension. "Allow me to teach you."

"Please," said Raxri, desperate. Their brain felt like it would burst, pounding migraines trying to split their head apart. "Please teach me."

The world will never be the same. Sutasoma merged herself with Raxri, performing the actions unspeakable and unwritable completely upon fading parchment. The two intertwined completely, and filled them up with the juices of Akazha's Devil Witch Elixir that from the viewpoint of Mijja, they seemed to fuse into a single, inseparable being, that looked vaguely like both Akazha and Kroma Nagmi's Pleasurable Form.

In this perfect union, they performed the heart of two rituals. The Ritual of Primeval Union and the Nadir Consummation of the Flesh High Cannibalism Ritual.

Very NSFW Version

Sutasoma's hands wandered down to Raxri's groin. She stroked. "You cling, and now I must use your passion and the sudden fleeting bliss to sever your clinging. Will you allow me?" Sutasoma looked more erotic than ever, now. Her curves accentuated. Her breasts bulbous against Raxri's soft supple flesh. Her clear vulva soft against Raxri's thigh. The nook of her neck, the sharpness of her clavicle. The soft curve of her smooth armpit.

"Yes," said Raxri, nodding. "Please."

Sutasoma kissed Raxri as more fluids of the elixir dripped from her mouth. It shone a gleaming dark specked with starbursts of red—the telltale color of the Devil Witch. As she kissed Raxri, she stroked their penis slowly. Making sure every stroke was an agonizing burst of pleasure. Raxri's hips moved on their own. Raxri's mind was overwhelmed by the sudden bursts of Passion and Bliss that the migraines seemed to stop. Raxri was letting go.

"You can touch me," said Sutasoma. Taking Raxri's hands and guiding them to her full breasts. Raxri acquiesced. As the Devil Witch Elixir's potence flooded through them, coloring their veins a gleaming blackness—the color of Supremely Perfect Enlightenment (that is to say, Violence)—their hands gripped Sutasoma's breasts. Kneaded and squeezed. Pushed and pulled. Pink nipples pinched violently as Raxri convulsed under the power of Sutasoma's Blissful Touch. The convulsions were not painful but completely Blissful. This must be the closest I will ever be to Supreme Awakening.

Raxri's hands wandered even more, now guided by something beyond them. Or was there ever any them in the first place? There was never any them in the first place. There was only every the universal Omniscience that permeated all things. The Relentless Violence Against Everything Existing.

Their hands found Sutasoma's vagina. Their fingers found their vulva, their clitoris. Raxri slowly moved the clitoris side to side, and they could feel Sutasoma moving in rhythm to them.

Raxri had their eyes closed all this time. They opened them now. They were doing this in the middle of a lotus—the seven-pointed star was a seven-petaled astral lotus. The petals lifted to encover them in beautiful transcluent drapes. Sutasoma's hot breath pressed against Raxri as Raxri rubbed her pussy. The hot breath was interspersed with bursts of gleaming black Enlightenment-Essence Elixir. With every drip of fluid, Sutasoma stroked again so that the bliss would get to Raxri.

It was working. I can feel my Womb transforming. The core forming upon my Furnace, turning it into Limitless Violence. With the eye of the spirit Raxri could see that their Cultivation Womb looked more or less like a throne of swords—no doubt influenced by the cultivation they had done with Adamantine Sword. But with every drip, the Throne of Swords was set aflame with a Black Flame outlined with a hungry scarlet. It devoured all hope for reform and replaced it with the reality of Violence and Revolution.

The world, to be saved, must first be destroyed.

This is what was happening to Raxri as well. For them to be saved, they must first be destroyed.

They could feel the last vestiges of their last life's power be consumed for the Black Flame to be used as fuel. The Devil Witch Womb combined with Raxri's Throne of Swords to create an abomination of a womb. But it was not finished yet.

A little sliver glinted within. No, it was a darkness darker than black. It was gleaming blackness. A Darkness or an Extinguishing. A flame of Hyper-Nirvana, of Unsurpassable Omniscience. The Trueblack Flame consumed all light.

It needed more energy. It needed more power. More Enlightenment-Essence. More Devil Womb Cultivation.

Raxri knew for a fact that the ritual maneuvers of Sutasoma infused the Devil Womb Elixir as well with her own greater Ultramystic power, allowing Raxri to attain twelvefold of the power and enlightenment they would have had otherwise! This act generated bounteous amounts of merit and fortune. With every stroke of the cock, every finger inside the pussy, waves and waves of golden merit spread forth from them.

Raxri hadn't realized that their fingers were deep into Sutasoma's pussy at this point. Sutasoma writhed under the now shared Bliss. This Dual Bliss only amplified the Bliss of them both, sending both of them into states of Sudden Enlightenments, brief Satori-states that the going in and out of was nothing but violence.

"Let us finish this." Sutasoma pulled Raxri up. She stood up with her legs slightly opened, and she made Raxri stand as well. Raxri's cock was fully erect, standing up straight impossibly, veins bulging with Gleaming Darkness. "Come in me." And she lifted Raxri's leg up to her shoulder, and made Raxri's cock sheathe fully into her pussy. "Visualize your cock as the vajra, and my pussy as the lotus."

Raxri nodded, in the momentary states of control they could find. They did exactly that and it was easy. They fucked standing, Raxri's cock penetrating Sutasoma. Her pussy tight and warm and welcoming Raxri into her. They achieved Unsurpassable Union for a moment, and for a moment both of them were Akazha. They were inseperable and nondual. The dialectical state of perfect nonduality—the realization that one arises from the other, and so on and so forth.

And this would have caused true Headbursting. It would have physically ripped Raxri apart, to be forcefully enlightened like this. This is why practice was so important, and why the Omniscients could not forcefully enlighten people due to the fact that their bodies will not be able to handle it.

But the Primeval Union Ritual was one of the most powerful Dual Cultivation rituals, and Sutasoma was a master at it. It just so happened that it seemed like Raxri was naturally adept at it as well. Raxri and Sutasoma fucked and fucked and fucked. Raxri bit at Sutasoma's nipples and breasts until they bled. Sutasoma pulled at Raxri's hair, choked their slender neck. The winds flurried and the the sounds of mantra chanting filled the air. These mantras followed the rhythm of their fucking, of Raxri's wet vajra sheathed in the whites of Sutasoma's aroused lotus squelching against each other.

"The last—... the last of the... the last of the elixir..." Sutasoma was out of breath. She seized Raxri's face and spat on their open mouth. And then she kissed them once again. And she played with their tongue. And she sucked their tongue. And her saliva was the primary agent for the Devil Witch Elixir, allowing her to send all of the Enlightenment-Essence into Raxri's mouth.

The Gleaming Black Flame that burgeoned from the depths of Raxri's Cultivation Womb blossomed just as—

—just as Raxri came. They shoved their cock deep into Sutasoma. Their semen shooting into her physical womb. Sutasoma grounded herself. Used her featherstep to right herself and dropped her pussy into Raxri's cock. She convulsed in Bliss as well as they both reached orgasm. As they both attained a Satori-state of Enlightenment-Glimpse, and in there they melted away. Vanished into Emptiness.

This was the heart of two rituals. The Ritual of Primeval Union and the Nadir Consummation of the Flesh High Cannibalism Ritual.

Sutasoma's hands wandered down to Raxri's groin. She stroked. "You cling, and now I must use your passion and the sudden fleeting bliss to sever your clinging. Will you allow me?" Sutasoma looked more erotic than ever, now. Her curves accentuated. Her breasts bulbous against Raxri's soft supple flesh. Her clear vulva soft against Raxri's thigh. The nook of her neck, the sharpness of her clavicle. The soft curve of her smooth armpit.

"Yes," said Raxri, nodding. "Please."

Sutasoma kissed Raxri as more fluids of the elixir dripped from her mouth. It shone a gleaming dark specked with starbursts of red—the telltale color of the Devil Witch. As she kissed Raxri, she stroked their penis slowly. Making sure every stroke was an agonizing burst of pleasure. Raxri's hips moved on their own. Raxri's mind was overwhelmed by the sudden bursts of Passion and Bliss that the migraines seemed to stop. Raxri was letting go.

"You can touch me," said Sutasoma. Taking Raxri's hands and guiding them to her full breasts. Raxri acquiesced. As the Devil Witch Elixir's potence flooded through them, coloring their veins a gleaming blackness—the color of Supremely Perfect Enlightenment (that is to say, Violence)—their hands gripped Sutasoma's breasts. Kneaded and squeezed. Pushed and pulled. Pink nipples pinched violently as Raxri convulsed under the power of Sutasoma's Blissful Touch. The convulsions were not painful but completely Blissful. This must be the closest I will ever be to Supreme Awakening.

Raxri's hands wandered even more, now guided by something beyond them. Or was there ever any them in the first place? There was never any them in the first place. There was only every the universal Omniscience that permeated all things. The Relentless Violence Against Everything Existing.

Their hands found Sutasoma's vagina. Their fingers found their vulva, their clitoris. Raxri slowly moved the clitoris side to side, and they could feel Sutasoma moving in rhythm to them.

Raxri had their eyes closed all this time. They opened them now. They were doing this in the middle of a lotus—the seven-pointed star was a seven-petaled astral lotus. The petals lifted to encover them in beautiful transcluent drapes. Sutasoma's hot breath pressed against Raxri as Raxri rubbed her pussy. The hot breath was interspersed with bursts of gleaming black Enlightenment-Essence Elixir. With every drip of fluid, Sutasoma stroked again so that the bliss would get to Raxri.

It was working. I can feel my Womb transforming. The core forming upon my Furnace, turning it into Limitless Violence. With the eye of the spirit Raxri could see that their Cultivation Womb looked more or less like a throne of swords—no doubt influenced by the cultivation they had done with Adamantine Sword. But with every drip, the Throne of Swords was set aflame with a Black Flame outlined with a hungry scarlet. It devoured all hope for reform and replaced it with the reality of Violence and Revolution.

The world, to be saved, must first be destroyed.

This is what was happening to Raxri as well. For them to be saved, they must first be destroyed.

They could feel the last vestiges of their last life's power be consumed for the Black Flame to be used as fuel. The Devil Witch Womb combined with Raxri's Throne of Swords to create an abomination of a womb. But it was not finished yet.

A little sliver glinted within. No, it was a darkness darker than black. It was gleaming blackness. A Darkness or an Extinguishing. A flame of Hyper-Nirvana, of Unsurpassable Omniscience. The Trueblack Flame consumed all light.

It needed more energy. It needed more power. More Enlightenment-Essence. More Devil Womb Cultivation.

Raxri knew for a fact that the ritual maneuvers of Sutasoma infused the Devil Womb Elixir as well with her own greater Ultramystic power, allowing Raxri to attain twelvefold of the power and enlightenment they would have had otherwise! This act generated bounteous amounts of merit and fortune. With every stroke of the cock, every finger inside the pussy, waves and waves of golden merit spread forth from them.

Raxri hadn't realized that their fingers were deep into Sutasoma's pussy at this point. Sutasoma writhed under the now shared Bliss. This Dual Bliss only amplified the Bliss of them both, sending both of them into states of Sudden Enlightenments, brief Satori-states that the going in and out of was nothing but violence.

"Let us finish this." Sutasoma pulled Raxri up. She stood up with her legs slightly opened, and she made Raxri stand as well. Raxri's cock was fully erect, standing up straight impossibly, veins bulging with Gleaming Darkness. "Come in me." And she lifted Raxri's leg up to her shoulder, and made Raxri's cock sheathe fully into her pussy. "Visualize your cock as the vajra, and my pussy as the lotus."

Raxri nodded, in the momentary states of control they could find. They did exactly that and it was easy. They fucked standing, Raxri's cock penetrating Sutasoma. Her pussy tight and warm and welcoming Raxri into her. They achieved Unsurpassable Union for a moment, and for a moment both of them were Akazha. They were inseperable and nondual. The dialectical state of perfect nonduality—the realization that one arises from the other, and so on and so forth.

And this would have caused true Headbursting. It would have physically ripped Raxri apart, to be forcefully enlightened like this. This is why practice was so important, and why the Omniscients could not forcefully enlighten people due to the fact that their bodies will not be able to handle it.

But the Primeval Union Ritual was one of the most powerful Dual Cultivation rituals, and Sutasoma was a master at it. It just so happened that it seemed like Raxri was naturally adept at it as well. Raxri and Sutasoma fucked and fucked and fucked. Raxri bit at Sutasoma's nipples and breasts until they bled. Sutasoma pulled at Raxri's hair, choked their slender neck. The winds flurried and the the sounds of mantra chanting filled the air. These mantras followed the rhythm of their fucking, of Raxri's wet vajra sheathed in the whites of Sutasoma's aroused lotus squelching against each other.

"The last—... the last of the... the last of the elixir..." Sutasoma was out of breath. She seized Raxri's face and spat on their open mouth. And then she kissed them once again. And she played with their tongue. And she sucked their tongue. And her saliva was the primary agent for the Devil Witch Elixir, allowing her to send all of the Enlightenment-Essence into Raxri's mouth.

The Gleaming Black Flame that burgeoned from the depths of Raxri's Cultivation Womb blossomed just as—

—just as Raxri came. They shoved their cock deep into Sutasoma. Their semen shooting into her physical womb. Sutasoma grounded herself. Used her featherstep to right herself and dropped her pussy into Raxri's cock. She convulsed in Bliss as well as they both reached orgasm. As they both attained a Satori-state of Enlightenment-Glimpse, and in there they melted away. Vanished into Emptiness.

This was the heart of two rituals. The Ritual of Primeval Union and the Nadir Consummation of the Flesh High Cannibalism Ritual.

[/NSFW]

The Ritual of Primeval Union was a Dual Cultivation known across the land but only rarely practiced. It required a skilled practitioner and follower of the Law and the Path of Omniscience. It was commonly shared around the world as nothing more but a meme—a cultural unit turned into a joke. "O, one should perform Primeval Union with me if you want that job or promotion!" is a common joke between friends as they ate in an Unlimited BBQ in Downtown Selorong or Hokou or Soreh or Ezo.

This pop culture transmutation helped make the actual act and actual ritual more esoteric. Which was just as well—martial artists and other Cultivators moved away from performing it or trying to find someone to perform it with because of its nigh mythical connotation. No chance that someone actually wants to perform Primeval Union! But it does exist, and it is very rarely practiced and very rarely taught because of the high degree of meditation and contemplation one's mind must already be in. Not to mention that one's body must also be of an equal level of Cultivation at that point. Anything less then the ritual might be broken. It might end up not beneficial to either party. At worst, it might end up with a Breath Regression Miasma, causing one's Cultivation to stall or even regress as the botched ritual takes and takes and takes more and more and more Breath and Ardor from a person.

At its face, the Nadir Consummation Ritual of the Flesh High Cannibalism Ritual seemed like an evil ritual. Or a ritual of too-subversive modes. A ritual so unthinkable, so alien, so evil-sounding that there was no way that it was a real ritual! But cannibalism is not as rare as one would think, and in the highest of the Unsurpassable Practices and in the Ultima Yoking Rituals, the art of eating the flesh of humans is one of the ultimate methods of consummating and binding the very truth of impermanence and non-self into one's Mind and Consciousness. The shocking factor of it breaks the Mind's sociocultural fetters, which are the greatest and strongest fetters for a human.

Humanity is a social phenomenon after all.

The Nadir Consummation of the Flesh High Cannibalism ritual is required for ingesting the Cultivational Enlightenment-Essence of a Devil Witch like Akazha, who had risen up the rungs of Cultivation. To consume Akazha's Enlightenment-Essence is an act of Cannibalism. In fact, any act of consumption of another's Ardor is considered Cannibalism.

As the Dual Cultivation consummated, and their internal energies intermixed, empowering each other and strengthening each other. Raxri's body of clear light and Sutasoma's body of clear light melted away into nothingness as the astral lotus fully blossomed, signifying the completeness—and more importantly the success—of the dual cultivation ritual.

Over it all, Kroma Nagmi watched. She watched with Enlightened Eyes as Raxri's vajra of compassion entered and was enveloped and ultimately awakened by Sutasoma's lotus of wisdom. When Raxri was killed it was their Cultivated Wisdom that left them first and foremost. Their cultivated Compassion and Loving-Kindness stayed and stuck far longer, for Loving-Kindness was one of the true essence-waters of Omniscients. From this realization of Ultima, Kroma Nagmi manifested.

The Omniscient of Enlightened Killing arose from the point where Raxri and Sutasoma had melted away physically. Kroma Nagmi was beautiful yet haunting. Her skin the color of pure black abyss, her eyes the color of hellstars. Her hair the bright white of bone, her facial structure the striking visage of a Shennin ghost-wife—small hooded eyes, soft round features, thin lips. She did not take on her Wrathful Form as her statue showcased, but rather, her pleasure form. Her 200cm tall body housed rippling muscles, full breasts, round buttocks. Thin shoulders, no blemish or scar anywhere. Collarbones that could kill, shoulders that wished for someone to bite them, crooks of armpits that asked for tongues of dead-worshippers to lick or kiss. This was the body of Sutasoma, made smaller, contorted somehow by the Enjoyment Body of the Omniscient Kroma Nagmi.

Raxri's consciousness swirled back into being.

They had melted away into nothingness, but did not retain consciousness or awareness. Their body was not yet prepared for the ultimate reality of Non-Consciousness or Non-Awareness. And so it had to return to this form, for their Enlightenment Practice was not yet done.

"Heaven Dancer," said Kroma Nagmi, and her smile was beautiful. Her eyeliner was red, giving her a sickly look. She walked up to Raxri—who had sat up at this point—and she planted her foot upon their chest. Raxri slammed back down. "How interesting to find you have left the Mandala of the White Diamond Omniscient." Her voice was.... the voice of Akazha. So humble (or perhaps, beyond Ego) was the Omniscient of Enlightened Killing that she spoke not in the grand bellows of Higher Beings but in the small and hoarse broken voice of a Cultivator that has died.

Raxri did not know what to say. They simply kowtowed instead. Staying in a pronated position. "I am not sure what the great Omniscient speaks of."

She smiled a mournful smile. "Though it not matter in the end, as all appearances are empty and illusion-like, this is still an important step for your Cultivation. Make no mistake, Heaven Dancer. This was the only way you could have broken through your past limits."

What is she talking about...?

"As you cultivate the new Cultivation Womb of yours, I will nourish it with you with the Loving-Kindness of Enlightened Killing. Upon stepping into my Mandala, and becoming part of my Omniscient Family, you will come to realize that all Killing is Empty. As an Omniscient-Aspirant, you will kill so that others do not need to, or to help others along to better karmic rebirths, while shouldering all that Hell Karma on your own. Until all the hells are empty."

"Until... all beings are free."

Kroma Nagmi smiled. A happy smile, now. She reached down and touched Raxri's face. Tenderly. "Your suffering continues... but you need not bear it alone. Remember—the Will of the Masses resides in your side. And the Will of the Masses is the Heart of the Omniscients."

Raxri gulped.

Kroma Nagmi reached up and touched Raxri's hair. The scarlet dye cracked away like old wax, replaced with a pure black sheen. Then, Kroma Nagmi sat atop Raxri's chest and kissed them. And as they did, their ears sharpened, similar to Akazha's.

The kiss was a kiss of pure bliss. More than that, it was a touch with true Dissolution into the Violence. It was the final straw—it ripped apart the Heaven Dancer's final notion of personhood. Their name melted away from them.

Their name.

They could only remember their title. They Who Danced Against The Heavens.

Who were they now?

"Walk," said Kroma Nagmi. And the Heaven Dancer could feel the burgeoning of their Cultivation Womb. The Gleaming Darkness reached critical mass, like thermonuclear warheads exploding in slow motion. Their, at the bottom of their liver, ripped out their Killing Intent. The last of the Heaven Dancer's Wisdom, sealed away into a protective Violence. Grinning wildly, with hair up as if it had been turned into a white bonfire, it seized the Heaven Dancer's Cultivation Womb and roared. The Killing Intent made known the Heaven Dancer's new name. The name given to them by their next breakthrough—by their next Mandala.

"Walk and reach violence," said Kroma Nagmi, the Holy Fool. "Zoenrang Anuttara, the Unsurpassable Sword of the Darkest Night!" And then Kroma Nagmi summoned her Inconceivable Blade and decapitated Zoenrang Anuttara, once known as Raxri Uttara.

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