Sunlight poured into the single window of Gryfor's office, shadows forming from his figure. He looked out at the ever rising sun, clouds filling the landscape. In a desert area, it was unusual to have clouds of such size. So many cumulus clouds, it didn't make sense for so many to appear in the middle of a dry spell in the Leafwind's desert.

Gryfor's gaze rested on the courtyard, where Joseph was working hand in hand with a pair of guards to set the meal. He watched as the old chef took scraps and made them into a stew using an Art. Although the Art was mediocre as a Mortal rank, it made all the old scraps edible and quickened time. It was approaching noon.

Gryfor walked back and forth throughout his office. He was waiting for Ardor and the doctor Aysen to make their appearance once again.

He had ordered that every time that the blood was collected from each prisoner the two were to make their appearance with each supply, and use a guard if necessary to carry the numerous containers of hemoglobin.

The previous day, he had received the first batch of the blood, and the quantity pleased him. 200 blood flasks were all lined up in front of them, all tagged with the prisoner's identification code. Aysen seemed to desire to speak, but hesitated and left with Ardor, Ardor bowing as he left.

Where the blood went, almost no one could say beyond Gryfor, who was now happily awaiting for the next batch to come its way.

Just as it was ordered, 200 prisoners were taken from their cells and guided by guards to the medical block of the compound. Gryfor noticed the pale faces of other prisoners as this occurred. So the ones that returned have already started talking with one another. No matter.

No one to this day could possibly remember the Lifeblood Refining Arts of the ancients except perhaps a few learned old fogies who somehow managed to retain a copy of the prohibited books. One of which was in Gryfor's possession.

From Gryfor's readings, he had found that the extent of the ancient people's research stepped into grisly seas. To fuel their research, the ancients constantly fought battles and used their war captives as experiment bodies to test their ideas. When a body was exhausted of all its Lifeblood, the body decomposed into ashes, leaving no trace of the former life. And these historic people, they had killed several million alone just to find the fundamental intricacies of Lifeblood.

Lifeblood carried the essence of a Warrior, and determined generally how far they would go in the four forces of strength. In this world, Aura wasn't the only means of fighting. Three other means did exist, and all Arts and techniques had some effects on those fields as well.

The only problem was that to build those areas, one would have to venture beyond Madrag to build the other three forces. Madrag was simply too poor in resources to sustain such skills.

Gryfor had refined the earlier batch of blood without much difficulty when he followed the Lifeblood method. What surprised him was the speed of refining; it exceeded his expectations.

A knock came at the office door, followed by a set of knocks. Gryfor sat onto his seat, a smile on his lips. His fingers were interwoven, his hands on the desk in front of him. He carefully dispersed his Aura throughout the room.

"Come in." He looked in the direction of the entrance, watching as Ardor, Doctor Aysen, and a pair of guards appear with the batches.

"I'm sorry, the batches of blood were too much for a single guard. I employed another to reduce the effort." The doctor spoke with sincerity, having the two guards carrying the crates set them on the side. Inside each flask was exactly one pint of blood, labelled with the code of the prisoner.

"No worries. I assume there are 200 in those crates altogether?" Gryfor looked at the two, his tone calm and friendly. He looked at the newly arrived crates with a strange sense of satisfaction, something none of those present could tell.

Ardor nodded to Gryfor's question. He looked at the blood of the various prisoners with a bit of confusion. Why does this monster need so much blood? He didn't know what Gryfor was doing with so much hemoglobin, and was a bit curious. Of course, he didn't follow his curiosity. Gryfor had warned him to not ask questions of why he, the Warden, does things.

Aysen looked at the glowing face of Gryfor, confusion on his aging face. He had struggled with his fellows in the medical department to procure so much blood in such a short amount of time while taking care of the injured. A few of the Alberdan soldiers almost died due to the Warden's demands, and he felt a bit guilty of perhaps killing them.

Aysen was a rather clear about his goal in life. He had joined the army in a time that the average doctor in Alberdos was doing below the needed earnings to survive. Only working in the army proved to be lucrative. He didn't have a family, but he had planned to have one so many years ago.

Then the border war began with the Mardrag Empire near the Alberdan Mountains. Along with other medical staff, he was quickly rushed to the scene of the war, to the front lines to save the lives of Alberdan soldiers. The blood, the howls of young men, the weapon fire and grisly attacks of the Madrag and Alberdan generals had reminded him of the darker side of the world. It changed him.

Sometimes he would wake up in the darkness of the night to find he was still alive. He lied to Ardor when he gestured he wasn't getting enough sleep from watching the soldiers. Instead, that was because of the sheer nightmare of the war. I can still feel Salamence's body fall atop me when the tent collapsed, howling in my ear as the Madrag soldier sent out a Flame Art to kill us. How Aysen survived, he didn't know. All he remembered was the pitiful cries of his only friend among the doctors die atop him, then watch as Madrag soldiers confirmed the deaths by stabbing bodies or slitting throats.

When news struck that the war was over in that region, Aysen was a bit surprised. His life was still marred by that war in his insomnia, but now medical staff wouldn't have to face such troubles. From transfers to a medal of honor for surviving to more transfers, he had ended in the Darknorth Prison. It was covertly taken over at first as the Alberdan nation quietly began taking city after city of the Leafwind Kingdom.

"It's actually 231 pints of blood, not 200." Aysen corrected the quantity count, giving a description of the total. As he expected, Gryfor wasn't worried about blood types.

"Warden, if I may ask, why do we need to collect blood of such an amount?" Aysen looked at the Warden, a few lines appearing on his brow. He wanted to know what in Deifor's grand ocean Gryfor needs 231 pints of human blood for.

"My weapon, Skullbane." Gryfor didn't refuse the doctor Aysen. He quickly shifted his hand, revealing the old war axe he used back in the Aurum manor. The blood stains on its edge were laced with a new layer from the bodies of the Leafwinders. It glinted with the sunlight, giving off a deadly feeling.

"It requires blood to grow in strength, and I need to bathe it in blood of Aura practitioners to raise it's level. Thanks to yesterday's batch, it had risen from by a single level. The other way to procure experience, which is far better, is to kill practitioners with the blade. Of course doctor, we can't do that." Gryfor reclaimed his blade, watching for Aysen's reaction.

He doesn't seem to be lying. Aysen thought of the possibility of a weapon requiring Aura practitioner blood to grow and it made sense. Gryfor didn't show a trace of hesitation. Actually, the Warden was being more open than a Warden needed to.

As Aysen thought along these lines, he realized that perhaps he was probing too much into the Warden's affairs by delivering blood and made motions to leave.

The two guards had stood in awe as they watched Gryfor expertly reveal and hide his weapon. Weapons were made by a different subset of Creators, and could easily shrink in size. The speed that Gryfor used to do so with his weapon astonished them. Neither of the two could infuse Aura into their weapons and reveal them that fast. The Warden, he is amazing. Those thoughts only continued to grow in their hearts as they left with Aysen.

Ardor prepared to leave, but then Gryfor commanded him to only close the door. Knowing that the Warden wanted to talk with him privately, he felt a bit of joy of being finally recognized by the Warden.

"Tell me, how did the extraction go? Any problems?" Gryfor asked Ardor, waiting for his reply.

"There were no problems. The entire medical staff worked together to extract the blood from all the prisoners. Doctor Aysen later allowed all of them to go back to their patients. He then came with me and the pair of guards to deliver it." Ardor recounted the events of collecting the blood from when Aysen was in contact with the prisoners. He made sure to not skip a single detail.

"I take it you are also wondering what I do with the blood as well?" Gryfor smiled at Ardor. When I gave him the same explanation, his curiosity had remained unfazed. Gryfor knew that Ardor wouldn't be as quick to trust such a description.

From seeing Ardor's face, he was able to tell he was right. This head of the guards had his own ideas, and Gryfor's explanation didn't ease Ardor's suspicions.

"If I told you, you understand I would would have to kill you. You may leave." Gryfor gestured for the head of the guards to leave.

Ardor looked at Gryfor, his thoughts continuing to grow. Just what was this monster doing with blood? His knowledge wasn't enough to make sense Gryfor's actions. All he could tell was Gryfor was hiding something, and he, Ardor, wasn't meant to know anything.

After bowing to Gryfor, Ardor left through the door, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hall.

Gryfor used his Aura to ensure that Ardor left, sending it under the door to check. After knowing that both of the doors to the hallway had been closed, he raised himself from his seat. A sinister smile was arced across his face.

"It's time." He walked towards the two crates on the side, moving them back in front of his desk. He examined each item in the crates one by one, ensuring they had the prisoner identification tags. Before handing Ardor the notebook for prisoner identification, he made efforts to memorize it all.

So Mona Aurum's blood is not among them. Gryfor desired to exercise the Lifeblood Art using a Lord ranked blood. At the moment, only the Aurum child was present, the only Lord ranked bloodline in the entire Darknorth Prison.

Using his Aura, Gryfor lifted all 231 flasks of blood into the air, creating a swirling array of red packs near the ceiling of his office. As he exercised the Art, flasks of blood that came from the highest ranking bloodlines among these prisoners were forced to the center by a strange force. After several minutes of waiting and casting the Art, all of the flasks were shattered into bits, the blood forced out from within. The glass shards were sprinkled all over the floor.

All of the blood had slightly differing colors, from a crimson to a purplish red. Ardor did not understand the intricacies, but each pint of blood was forced into a circular formation with several layers. Each ring rotated in the opposite direction compared to the last. In the center, the most powerful ounce of blood existed, as if commanding the rest to follow suit.

Following the inscription of the Art, Gryfor used his Aura to become ferocious and quick. It shifted in form from a wispy gas to an illusory flame, burning all of the blood. The vast majority of plasma and human matter disappeared. Remaining was a shining amount of matter, a vial's worth for the least powerful blood. Gryfor could see as one went closer to the center, the amount of that shining liquid grew in size and amount.

"The Lifeblood of 231 different bloodlines." Gryfor couldn't hide his excitement. He raised both of his hands at the swirling liquids, activating the Lifeblood Art at full force. The various amounts thrummed with a humming sound until the outermost ring collapsed and joined the next one closer to the center.

With each passing moment, the outermost rings collapsed onto one another until all that was left was the central Lifeblood amount and a ring surrounding it. Gryfor was sweating profusely, the drops the size of small beans. Utilization of this Lifeblood Art exhausted Aura and mental concentration rapidly, and Gryfor was close to his limit.

Finally he channeled the final piece of the Lifeblood Art, forcing the entire amount of Lifeblood to become one. His eyes grew steady as he watched the mass of Lifeblood above him.

The white liquid shifted in colors, giving off light from white to black at different times. According to the Lifeblood Art, the light one saw the most would be the overall quality of the mass of Lifeblood. As Gryfor watched, the total mixture gave off a pale greenish sheen the most.

"Saint rank!" Gryfor muttered as he saw the green hues coming from the mix of Lifeblood. Yearning filled his eyes. He wanted to absorb it all at the moment, but the final part of the Lifeblood Art had not yet activated.

The total liquid began to glow a resplendent green as it simmered. Gryfor felt his Aura supply dwindle close to its end, his Aura almost completely empty of energy. If this continues, my core will break down to compensate. Gryfor understood that once one used an Art, they couldn't cancel the activation at all. The cost would have to be paid, and if all of Gryfor's usable Aura was emptied his core would lower in level to allow the channeling of the Art to occur.

The simmering liquid grew in density as it only began to glow green. The original gallons worth of Lifeblood shrunk to the size of a single pint, followed by a further reduction to a single drop. This drop dazzled with a green Aura, covering the room with a green light. Steadily dropping, this single refined amount of Lifeblood slowly fell into Gryfor's hand.

His eyes shone with a tinge of madness as he laughed with joy. "Another drop, another step towards the Emperor's death." He looked at the speck of refined Lifeblood in his hand as it moved back and forth on his palm. This was the second time.

Removing the chest plate of his armor, Gryfor revealed his upper body, toned with muscles. If one looked carefully at the center of his chest, a small scab had formed. With Aura, Gryfor cut the small scab, causing a small cut to open once again.

The green drop of Lifeblood stirred, as if something was calling it. Gryfor moved his hand closer to the wound, watching as the refined Lifeblood enter the wound. As soon as the drop entered, the scab quickly healed.

A tremor of pain went through Gryfor's body, a pint of a liquid emptied from his mouth. This fluid was dark black and full of impurities. The green drop made its way along Gryfor's bloodstream to his heart. There, the majority remained and a small bit dispersed to his meridians.

The bit that stayed in his heart merged with Gryfor's existing Lifeblood, purifying it of the traces of Mortal blood. What remained was a higher ranked Lifeblood owned by Gryfor.

The amount that dispersed to his meridians refined his meridians, the impurities of the whole process forced out. Gryfor used a portion of what remained from his Aura to burn away the traces of the impurities. His smile never left his lips.

"Finally, I can feel it. I can feel the change." He had been stuck as an Aura Saint level 7 for so long. Now he felt that if he trained for a few days, he could overcome this bottle neck and become a level 8.

The realms of any rank was split in 10 levels. The first through ninth levels were all the same size, but the tenth level took the time of the previous nine to proceed. To raise in rank required insight, enlightenment in the ways of Aura to rise. Each following level would be the same size of the tenth level of the previous rank.

As an Aura Saint level 7, the time it took General Gryfor to reach this level was shorter than average thanks to his natural talent. However, everyone had an apex, and Gryfor felt his peak strength with his Lifeblood from before the Art of the ancients would be an Aura Saint level 9, 10 if he was lucky.

Now, with his Lifeblood refined twice using Saint ranked Lifeblood drops, his natural talent and comprehension grew. Intricacies of Aura training that were once blurry became easier to sense, and the feeling of rising to the Lord rank became natural.

Gryfor began to meditate his Aura Technique, one chosen for him by Parsmir, called the Howling Wind Technique. It was of the Saint rank, and when one achieved it to its mastery, one could move like the wind and damage their foes with the slightest breeze.

This Howling Wind was a technique that led to a Lord ranked technique called the Wailing Wind Technique. Like many Techniques, techniques all came from various God ranked Techniques. In other words, when a person created a Technique, they used their understanding of a stronger Technique to create one. Few Techniques were made without using a known technique as a base.

Over time, this led to Techniques such as the Howling Wind which carried a trace of the Over God ranked technique it was descended from called the Primordial Winds of Chaos. Gryfor would only understand a single character from the first verse of this technique if he had it in his hands.

As he channeled the Howling Wind Technique, Gryfor could feel the natural Aura of the world fill his body at a rate faster than before. The effects of the refined Lifeblood drops was quite great, as the Aura swiftly passed through his meridians and joined his core. He felt that if he could train for an entire day, reaching an Aura Saint level 8 should not be difficult.

"I almost forgot. The next batch." Anticipation filled Gryfor's eyes as he sat back at his desk, rereading the book on Lifeblood refining. He hoped for gaining more benefits.

"The prisoners at first weren't willing to talk, Mona." Aeron looked at Mona as he split his portion of bread with him. His eyes carried a tinge of sadness, but no one could tell why. Only Aeron knew. My delicious bread. I am so sorry you cannot enjoy the company my taste buds. Forgive me.

"Then one of the prisoners realized we had bread, so after giving my share. He began to speak." Mithal spoke next, his gaze sharp on Aeron. He still didn't learn. We have to share. His sight scared Aeron into hiding his grievances.

"They were taken to the medical department in the block closest to the south. There, the guards tied them to the chair as a medical doctor came and siphoned one pint of their blood. However, for some reason they felt weaker after giving a pint. Afterwards, they were all made to leave for the courtyard. They said even eating didn't help them." Reithar recalled the fatigue and pale face of the prisoner who gave them information. He didn't know what could cause such a reaction.

Who is this all for? And why are they doing this? Mona couldn't answer those questions. His first thoughts were on the person who was targeting him, but he didn't know who that would be. If it was the Warden, it made sense. But why would an Alberdan Warden go to such great lengths. Even if the Aurum family were prime war captive material, it still didn't make sense.

"How were the other prisoners?" Mona looked at Mithal, waiting for his reply.

"About two hundred prisoners were gathered. All of them were able to jog their way to the medical block. When they were returning, the same prisoners could at best stagger back." Mithal remembered the energy the groups had shown as them made it back and forth from the medical station. Their steps were slow and heavy, as if carrying the weight of two men on them. A few sweated from exhaustion as they returned under the glare of the afternoon sun.

Mona wasn't able to come to any reasoning about the blood connection to all of this. It was true that when one lost blood, vitality could be affected, but only by a small margin. For the prisoners to have so much difficulty to even walk back and forth from the medical center, the blood extraction must be more complicated than it seemed.

He looked out into the sky. The moon was beginning to rise once again, its graceful rays of light covering the landscape. Mona's own face felt the light of the moon as it soothed his heart.

"In two days, the third training session will start." Mona spoke to the other three, his gaze admiring the moon's craters. Such a beautiful creation so far away. A strange feeling came from within him, a feeling that something beloved was there, something he had to regain. He couldn't tell what.

Reithar sighed as he remembered the upcoming day. The first time all three of them failed and Mona was locked away on false charges. On the second date they were busy aiding Mona in awakening and missed the date. The third was on the horizon. If we miss this, I can never look for my sister.

Reithar, Mithal and Aeron had all reached the Aura Mortal level 9 mark. To ascend to level 10 it took the combined time of levels 1 through 9 to complete. Even with the Primal Fold technique, such time would be longer than two days.

Also, all of them agreed to help Mona reach the highest level possible before the arrival of the third test date. If Mona was able to leave with them, they would have a far greater chance of surviving in Alberdos. The Aurum family had quite a few connections, and Reithar trusted Mona had his own as well.

"Let's repeat. Just like before." Mithal signaled to the other two and Mona, preparing their operation once again.

Mona sat in the lotus position, channeling the Primal Fold technique. He had reached level 3 yesterday with the aid of the trio, and was ready to begin striking the other blockage in his left leg.

In Mona's body, the Mortal Curse spread and solidified blockages in his ten Aura meridians. In his body, ten had formed and throughout the years the Mortal Curse had made each more dense, more thick. Eventually the Mortal Curse would have filled his entire meridians and ripped them from within, making him a genuine cripple in Aura cultivation.

From Mona's experiment with the Bubble, however, he was able to eliminate three of the blockages with pure strands of red Aura. To fight back against the Mortal Curse required the Bubble, a treasure Mona had never seen before that could not be detected either. Such an item was very rare.

Just where did this Bubble come from? Mona was grateful for having this device, but he wanted to understand its origins. This was partially the reason why he spent several hours when he faked his injuries to understanding the Designs on the Bubble. If he could find its origins, he could better use this Bubble for training, and perhaps create higher quality Aura.

As Mithal and the others poured Aura into Mona's body, the mixture of wispy Aura filled his Aura Core region with increasing strength. Eventually Mona felt the similar tightness in his region and guided the gas to the Bubble. The Bubble ravenously consumed all of the Aura being infused, producing seas of Aura strands glimmering like little stars.

Once the mass of white Aura strands reached the proper amount, he guided all of the strands into the Bubble, receiving a single red strand of Aura.

Before, I could break the second blockage with two of these red strands of Aura. The third blockage in my left leg. The fourth must require then four red strands. Mona set the single strand of red Aura aside, preparing to test his idea.

With all four of them channeling the Primal Fold technique and infusing Mona's body with Aura, the room should have had let loose a tinge of Aura through the cell bars but did not. This showed how greedy the Bubble treasure was; it consumed every trace of Aura it was given and converted it into strands without allowing any to escape.

Mona once again made another red strand of Aura, watching as it combined with the strand from before. He had counted before that to make a red strand of Aura, it required 10000 strands of white Aura. If his inference was correct, that meant with 10000 strands of red Aura he could make the next level.

As he thought of ascending to levels of an Aura Saint, an Aura Lord, or even an Aura King he understood that the time it would take would be astronomical. It also depended on one's insight and comprehension, as well as one's talent and fortune. How many geniuses fell apart at ascending between ranks were uncertain. Only one thing was. The path to the peak of Aura was littered with legacies, legacies of success and failure.

The third red strand of Aura formed before Mona, undulating waves of energy much stronger than a single white strand. It wiggled as it joined the other mass of red Aura, making one the thickness of a piece of string. This red string had a powerful sense of strength, and white strands seemed to avoid it as it floated around Mona's Aura Core region.

Mithal and the others kept training the Primal Fold technique, using one hand to channel the technique and the other to infuse Aura. They learned they could infuse quite a bit of Aura without exhausting themselves by retaining 1 percent of the Aura created for themselves. When Mona learned of their revised plan, he wholeheartedly agreed.

After all, the longer all of them could go without tiring the longer Mona could revel in creating Aura strands. This could allow all of them to advance, except minimally for the other three. Aeron had made it to level 9 as he was already at the peak of level 8 before. As for Mithal, it would take a long time for him to approach level 10.

The white strands came into creation endlessly, waves upon waves of glimmering Aura strands being formed, refined, coagulated and refined once more. At the 10000th strand of white Aura, Mona repeated his process, creating the fourth strand of red Aura.

It easily sensed the other mass of red Aura, joining with it immediately to form a strand just slightly thicker than before. The energy it gave off frightened the white Aura into submission, making a zone of no other Aura strands around it as the red Aura floated in Mona's body.

Time to assail the fourth blockage. Mona used his consciousness to control this red strand, guiding it to the location of the Mortal Curse's obstruction in his fourth meridian. He guided it from his gut all the way to his right leg, nearing his knee.

As if sensing the position of its nemesis, the strand of red Aura found the location of the congested meridian, entering it. Upon finding the traces of the Mortal Curse, it rammed into the clogged area.

For a moment, the meridian was silent. Then, the whole meridian began to vibrate, a slight humming sound echoing in Mona's ears. The blockage broke into several chunks, revealing a pure meridian. Mona guided the chunks to the Aurum Ring, the Orb of Fire devouring the chunks with pleasure.

Mona used the incoming Aura to make Aura strands, channeling these strands through his four meridians. After each meridian was used, he felt a greater sense of weakness in his body. Just what is this feeling? He used his Aura to scan his body, but to no avail. He couldn't find the cause. Although being able to train with four meridians gave him great strength, a feeling of uneasiness filled him. He couldn't find the cause of that weakening feeling.

With his four meridians, Mona gradually filled his Aura Core with Aura. The small pebble became the size of a larger marble, perfectly round. It gave off the glow of white Aura, and resembled the sun in the sky.

Aura Mortal Level 4. All of them noticed the moment Mona had ascended to the next level. The speed of this codependent Aura training was shocking. In about nine days, Mona had ascended four levels. His speed was amazing, to say the least, close to the levels of those sect geniuses, students taken by sects or guilds as part of their forces to train Aura. In doing so, they trade a part of their freedom and time in return for resources and techniques rarely found elsewhere. Sadly, few Leafwinder nobles could ever enter a sect, let alone get an invitation. Their talent was simply not on Mona's level.

As an Aura Mortal Level 4, Mona was able to disperse his Aura about 8 feet in all directions, and have a concentrated scanning at 7 feet. Through his Aura, he could faintly sense the prisoners on the nearby rooms sleeping in their beds, unaware of the noble scanning their vitals.

Alberdos, it's simply a matter of time. Mona understood that politics were what ended his life and gave him his current chains. And those thoughtless animals were all going to die once Mona was ready. He knew that the Alberdan Emperor could have stopped the breaking of the treaty, but accepted warring on Leafwind as well. Among all of the people he planned to kill, the emperor was going to be the most difficult, but the most satisfying.

Mona and the others continued on. After rising in level, Mona knew he had to stabilize his current level with Aura. If he continued to use Aura without a proper foundation, it could affect his future cultivation. The better the base, the stronger the house. If Mona could make a perfect foundation, his future as an Aura manipulator would be much smoother.

In the darkness of the night, the moon skimmed the sky, occasionally blocked by clouds here and there. It's beauty won the gaze of a few guards, who felt this was the first time they saw such a vivid lunar scene. Far away in the capital of Alberdos, an old man in elder attire looked at the moon as well, sighing in its corporeal beauty.

In his hand he carried a Transmitting Creation, his Aura steadily being channeled. Molov, Empress. I hope your souls are in peace. He raised the Creation to his head after it was energized with his Aura. Parsmir waited for the signal to connect.

"Gryfor?" He spoke, sitting in his office, looking at the stars. The memory of Molov couldn't be repressed as he saw the twinkling from up above.