Gryfor looked out at the moon, watching its radiance. How many moons have I seen since my sister left me? He had lost count of it all. The bloodshed. The fruits of war, and the seeds of hatred. So many foes. And so little time.

The times of war and carnage had tried to consume him, but he rebelled every minute, retaining his sanity. He couldn't forget the pain, the scars on his body and his heart. They never healed, no elixir could fix such wounds. Only the sight of those nobles begging for a quick death could heal them.

She was in my hands, her eyes blank, her face pale. Her hair was as beautiful as before, but that was the beauty of death. To think I couldn't harm the noble responsible for her death. His sister died from shock, from the trauma that was inflicted when a noble decided to throw his weight around.

In his pocket, the Transmitting Creation sprung to life once more. It began to vibrate in Gryfor's pocket. Noticing the movement of the device, Gryfor infused his Aura listening to it.

"Gryfor?" The other side spoke, its voice carrying a trace of sorrow. It seemed to have been crying for a few hours.

"Elder Parsmir, greetings." Gryfor spoke into the device, his voice calm. He looked through the window of his office, overseeing the entire prison complex. His Saint ranked Aura was on standby, waiting on his command.

"He's coming, Gryfor." Parsmir spoke into his device from the other end of the line, his eyes staring at the moon. His face had a trace of tears fallen just moments ago, his robes stained with a few wet marks as well.

"Who's coming? The young noble?" Gryfor knew that the young noble was on his way, but didn't have a specific idea as to when he was. Inside he felt a bit grateful for Parsmir's call.

"Indeed, the young noble of the Faulkner family is on his way. He is using the Lion Transport Creation of his father to come, and from my sources he used an Aura Stone. He should be there in a few days." Parsmir's voice became serious. He didn't want Gryfor to become like Molov, the casualty of another's grand schemes.

"Should I send out my men to meet them?" Gryfor replied. He had loyal subordinates from warring that were also in the prison. With them, he could easily meet the Faulkner family, perhaps even force them to retreat. That would be best.

"No. That's impossible. The Lion Transport has defense mechanisms to prevent enemies. It also moves very fast. It should be near your location within 36 hours. Besides, my sources tell me that among Faulkner's party there is a young genius. And this genius is beyond you Gryfor. Far beyond anything you know." Parsmir thought back to what the reconnaissance unit had told him.

The Lord of the Faulkner family had assigned the young master several handmaidens for helping in baths, but they were spies. Not only did he know this in advance, but that child from the Alberdan Academy, he's too great of a risk. Parsmir remembered the frightened voice of his unit as he remembered that the Alberdan student killed 10 Aura Warriors with ease. What if such a monster fought seriously? Gryfor could very well die .

"A genius beyond my self?" Gryfor understood that such characters could only come from top-grade academies in the Alberdan Empire. And if even Parsmir considers this person a threat, he had to take notice. He understood his strength. A genius of Parsmir's scale was a behemoth in reality.

"So all I must do is prevent the blacksmith Jaspen from being unnecessarily harmed. No matter." Gryfor understood the young noble of the Faulkner family, Eric Faulkner, was coming for the old man in their Thorn Dungeons. He hadn't received news of Jaspen being tortured, so he was safe on that front.

"You don't understand Gryfor. The Faulkner family's young master may be coming for Jaspen, but if he finds an Aurum family member in your clutches, don't you think he may take that Mona Aurum as well? That would become your undoing." Parsmir knew that the old blacksmith Jaspen had come in contact with the Aurum bloodline and that if Jaspen pleaded with the young noble, who knows what could happen?

"Thank you again, Elder Parsmir. I'll keep watch of the approach of Eric Faulkner." Gryfor defused his Aura from the Transmitting Creation, contemplating.

What are the chances of Jaspen and Mona Aurum building a rapport? Gryfor didn't believe that an aging man close to death could become friends with a young noble being hunted by many in the Alberdan nobility.

No, I must expect it. If the former noble had managed to bond with the blacksmith, the Faulkner noble may take both of them. If he does that, I can't collect Mona Aurum's Lifeblood. Gryfor desired to have the Lifeblood of Mona Aurum.

The Lord ranked Lifeblood running through Mona Aurum's veins was bound to be of a higher quality than the average prisoner inside Darkthorn Prison. Through his readings of the Lifeblood Arts, Gryfor learned how mistaken he was. The best Lifeblood wasn't gained from a dead body; that amount would lack in comparison to the Lifeblood of a living person.

Lifeblood was produced by the body, through various organs, and the drops of Lifeblood were spread throughout one's body. If you extracted blood from a person, an extremely small amount would be Lifeblood. If one extracted blood from the living person, they would have practically a limitless supply until the person died.

However, when the person died, all the Lifeblood in the veins lose their strength, and only the Lifeblood in the heart remained. That Lifeblood could be lacking by several hundred times in compared to someone alive.

Gryfor wanted to use the Lord ranked Lifeblood to enhance his own. The blood of Mona Aurum had a higher potency, and with it Gryfor could possibly even become an Aura King. If Eric Faulkner left with Mona Aurum, his plans would be in shambles and getting revenge would be impossible.

What if I force Mona Aurum to give me his Lifeblood? He understood with his title as Warden, doing such a thing would be possible. But what if among his guards were a spy of the royal family?

If they found out the boy named Mona Aurum was being siphoned of Lifeblood, not only would the Emperor of Alberdos make quick work of his death, he wouldn't be able to escape at all. All the nations of Madrag had already declared Lifeblood reining was forbidden. Where would he go to escape the Alberdan Emperor? He didn't have connections with the Seafoam Federation to help him be smuggled through.

He couldn't stir suspicion among the guards. I already ordered for blood to be taken without giving a valid reason. For me to target a young child without any cause would bring too much attention. What could he do?

A smile soon came to Gryfor's face. He remembered something crucial. Tomorrow is the third testing date for that Aurum child.

Gryfor didn't know the specifics as to why the Alberdan Army gave captives three weeks to train and be sorted by skill level. The heads of the War Council could simply have all of the captives brought to Alberdos instead. Perhaps by sorting the prisoners it would be easier to find the best slaves, but the only reason that Gryfor could think of to persuade those old men in the War Council to allow this is favors.

Allowing the slaves to work on their Aura levels and sort them each week allows them to be classified by their talent and determination. The hardest working would meet the deadlines, as well as the most talented. By giving these special prisonersto seeking nobles, those old fogies could earn a favor from any Alberdan noble. Very well-thought out. Using human lives to earn chances to perhaps save one's own life.

Gryfor looked at the yard, the sum steadily creeping up into the skies. Aura practitioners were less affected by mortality as they reached higher in rankings. Only when they reached the near end of their longevity did they feel human sensations such as hunger and sleep deprivation again. Gryfor still quite youthful in his 80s, and his lifespan would last at least 385 years. He only looked as if he just turned 20.

Thus, Gryfor didn't sleep last night. He felt something unusual with his Aura. As an Aura Saint, his Aura was much more precise and broad than others.

At the very limit of his Aura when it was dispersed to its maximum, he felt a strange undulation. This night, he felt a massive amount of Aura, comparable to the rise of a new Aura Saint, coming from the prison. Just as quickly it came to existence, it rapidly disappeared.

I tried focusing my Aura, but when I did that, I lost trace of that Aura. It's simply to far away. Did a guard ascend to Aura Saint and use a Creation to hide it? Gryfor went back to his desk, opening the book that had information on all of the prisoners up to this date.

No. All of them are still Aura Warriors at level 6. Ardor is an Aura Warrior level 8. I know that from his presence. He felt a bit confused that so much Aura had come from this prison. Just what was it?

Gryfor began pouring over maps of the area, geography, regional water supply, Aura concentration. He simply couldn't tell why Aura would flare like that. If it was a soldier, why was he hiding it? If a prisoner, why was he able to avoid the detection of the Swarm Creation? If it was a natural occurrence here, why didn't any of the past Wardens take note of it?

All of these questions loomed in Gryfor's mind. He simply lacked enough information to tell what was the cause for the spike in Aura. As he placed his tools back into the desk, a knock came at the door.

Gryfor quickly placed his maps away, then followed his routine from the day before. His fingers were interlocked once more on the desk, his face featuring a false smile. Inwardly he felt a flash of heavy desire and anticipation.

"Come in." His voice feigned indifference, as if this happening was routine.

The door opened, revealing Aysen. His eyes were more tried than before, his skin wrinkled beneath each eyelid. His face showed signs of exhaustion. He hadn't slept and his hair was quite a mess. Behind him, three guards were each holding crates of flasks, a reddish liquid of different hues in each. Ardor stood beside the third guard, his gaze solemn.

Ardor looked to the side of Gryfor's room as he entered. The blood is gone, all of it. The flasks are also gone. The two carts from before are still there. Did he really use the blood on his weapon?

"There are 282 flasks of blood today, Warden. Doctor Aysen worked carefully to not waste a single drop." Ardor spoke after a short bow, eyeing Gryfor's reaction.

"Excellent, Doctor Aysen. I believe this will help me greatly." Gryfor's smile was pristine, but had a trace of greed within. This was hard to perceive for all of those present.

Doctor Aysen told the three guards to set the three crates in front of Ardor's desk. Each of them looked tired, as if their energy was almost wasted. They had to carry eighty or so flasks of blood up four flights of stairs without dropping a single flask. Such a task required skill, caution, care, and strength. These three guards were quite new to the prison. They had never had to do such a thing back at the Military Academy.

Doctor Aysen wanted to speak to Gryfor, but he stopped upon seeing Gryfor's great war axe revealed. Clearly the weapon looked more refined, as if it had consumed blood to raise in strength.

Aysen didn't disbelieve the Warden. He felt it was quite sensible that the Warden very well did have weapons that used blood to grow in strength. It was the rarity of blood-based weapons that gave him his doubt.

To make a weapon, one needed to specialize in Weapon Creation, and also have the knowledge needed to make a weapon of a specific grade, as well as rudimentary basics about how to make the weapon in general. To make the war axe in Gryfor's hands, one would need to find a Weapon Creator of the Saint rank with skills in making a Saint ranked war axe while incorporating a blood Design. Such a design would allow it to grow in strength by killing, and was very rare.

With all the requirements, how many men of that caliber could be found in Alberdos? If there were any, Aysen knew that their numbers could only be counted on a single hand. Such talent would be better off going towards the archipelago than staying in the Aura-poor continent of Madrag. There, they could gain enlightenment faster, and advance to maybe even a Lord ranked Weapon Creator instead of toiling here.

Aysen sighed. If I had as many connections, maybe I too would have been a Saint with a Saint ranked tool in the Art of Medicine. Life was very unfair.

Gryfor watched as all of them were beginning to leave. He kept Ardor back, slightly commending the head of guards for his efforts. Inwardly he laughed at the joy it inspired in Ardor's face. As Ardor left the hall, Gryfor once more made sure he left the hallway.

He looked at the blood flasks with a bit of satisfaction. Tomorrow, I will demand Mona Aurum give me his blood. With it, I can become more complete.

He couldn't wait until the next day.

*****

"Tomorrow is the third testing date." Reithar looked at the others, handing his bread slice to Mona. He saw that Aeron was on the verge of crying after giving his bread. He ate the technique. And quite a bit of bread. This is all for our escape. Doesn't he understand?

Aeron saw that Reithar had a complex look on his face. It's not that I don't know, Reithar. It's just that, I haven't eaten a decent meal in so long! This Mona is a food dump!

Mithal contemplated, looking out at the setting sun. The red and orange hues of the sky were brilliant in the desert, perhaps the only thing enjoyable in this land. Without a single other life form in this sky besides humans desperate one way or another, the land felt like another world.

"Let's begin your training early, Mona." Mithal glanced at the others as he spoke. If Mona is able to get high enough as an Aura Mortal, coupled with the Primal Fold technique, it shouldn't be difficult to survive into the top 100 positions for all of us. He knew that this was the best route.

But something kept nagging him. Could something go wrong? Could something unexpected happen? He didn't know what to think if say, the Warden decides to cancel the entire tournament because of Mona.

Mithal and the others followed their routine as before, but first they looked from beyond their cell. After ensuring the guards' night shift had began, they went on to infusing Mona with Aura. Mona sent the Aura towards the Bubble, allowing for all of it to convert to refined Aura strands after forming them.

Through this training method, Mona had been able to become an Aura Mortal level 5. His once indescribably small Aura core was now the size of an orange, glowing with an enigmatic pure white light. The undulations he felt from it were amazing, to say the least.

Mithal and the others had managed to use their minimal Aura gains to solidify their own Aura levels even more. Each of them had already entered as Aura Mortals Level 9, and each step towards solidifying their foundation would allow them to be one step closer to ascending to Level 10.

According to Aura training, when one advanced a realm, their Aura Core would undergo a qualitative change. It would grow dense and shrink in size. Mona didn't know when that would be, but he hoped to see the outcome of such an action soon. The faster I reach the Warrior rank, the easier it will be to defend myself, to get revenge, to get justice.

Mona's Aura Core was surrounded with innumerable Aura strands, each refined and glimmering with life. The strands did not join his core, only occupying the space around it. Realizing that his Aura Core region now felt compressed from it all, he sent the waves of white Aura strands into the Bubble.

I feel this is too simple. A treasure that can purify and reform Aura must have a cost. But from all I can tell, there isn't any. Mona knew that this magnificent of a treasure had to have a cause behind its godly abilities. He just couldn't find what it was.

Three red strands of Aura came out merging and occupying a space inside of the Aura core region. The forming white Aura avoided it like the plague, keeping very far from the newly formed Aura.

Mona guided the white Aura over to the Bubble once more, forming another red strand of Aura. The newly formed red strand joined the other combined strand, adding to its powerful undulations.

From his previous idea, to ascend to the Aura Mortal level 6, he needed six strands of red Aura to strike the sixth meridian, the one in his left elbow. Once the sixth red strand formed, it merged with the other strands, forming a piece as thick as yarn. It quickly moved towards the sixth obstruction, shattering it in one strike.

Mona felt a sense of energy flowing through his arm. Now that this meridian was free, he had four more left to go. The incoming Aura was guided into the Bubble, creating refined white strands. These tides of white Aura passed through his six meridians without relenting, quickly joining his Aura Core.

As the Aura Core grew, Mona noticed how much Aura it took to raise each level. Not only did each next Mortal Curse obstruction took more Aura to break, his Aura Core required more Aura to grow in size. He couldn't tell how large it would be before it grew again.

Aura continued to be shuffled back and forth from the Bubble to the Aura Core region and back. After that, the Aura was sent through all of his meridians, until finally the Aura Core had sufficient Aura.

A loud ding sound came from Mona's ears as dirt came from all of his pores. The amount was minimal, but it stained a bit of his clothing. The smell of the impurities from his body was terrible, and there was no bathing areas in sight.

His Aura Core rotated as it absorbed the Aura, growing to the size of about six inches wide. Now with such a large core, he felt that he could sense the entire two rooms next to his cell and below, almost touching the one's adjacent in each direction. If he concentrated, he could tell the breathing rates of the nearby prisoners with sufficient accuracy.

This did not bring joy to Mona's eyes, as he had expected this. What did confuse him was the sense of weakness. Since he had became a level 1 Aura Mortal, that sense of weakness, coming from deep in his body, was always there.

At first, he felt it was a consequence of assaulting the Mortal Core with impure Aura. But now, after rising to an Aura Mortal level 6, it felt as if his body was being stabbed with a large blade from his back, a blade he couldn't remove. The pain lasted for at least 15 minutes before it subsided, the location of the pain still reddened.

Just what is this strange painful sensation? It seems like it is just behind my Aura Core. He used his Aura to examine his body there, but he couldn't see anything. It all looked normal, but Mona knew he felt the pain here.

Now that I am an Aura Mortal level 6, what should I do? Focus on the Bubble? Or train my Aura? Mona had already stabilized his new level in Aura, the Core rotating inside of his body as it solidified with the help of the Aura infused.

Looking outside at the moon, he realized it was already past midnight, almost a quarter past. In about 3 hours, it'll be dawn. There isn't enough time to attempt level 7. Mona turned to the three behind him.

"Reithar, Mithal, Aeron. In about 3 hours, it will be dawn. There's not enough time to try attempting level 7 now." Mona spoke straight to the point. He had a rough idea of Aura, and how much he needed to keep going higher in level. The amount of time it took just to become a level 6 total nine hours. That meant level 7 would take much longer with infusions. He didn't want them to work when almost nothing could be gained.

The other three heard Mona's words, opening their eyes and seizing their channeling.

Reithar sighed. It's not enough to grow in another level. He wanted to get Mona at least at the verge of the middle levels. After all, every level in rising was another assurance of survival.

Mithal nodded, and went to his bed. After the number of times they slept on this bed while Mona was asleep, the bed now creaked from just sitting.

I wonder if being a level 6 Aura Mortal is enough to pass the testing tournament tomorrow. Mithal knew that in the first competition, he lost because the disparity between levels was too high. With only a Mortal ranked Technique and Art, he didn't stand a chance against those at the peak of the Aura Mortal rank, not to mention they mastered their Arts at the Mortal level, as well as for their Aura Technique.

Now that it was the third competition, Mithal wasn't sure who would appear. He understood, though, that they might have an advantage this time.

The Warden had ordered for the various prisoners to give blood at the medical division of the Darkthorn Prison. When we went for the meal in the day, those who lost their blood on day one hadn't returned to normal. The prisoners who first gave their blood should have returned to normal overnight, but with limited and unhealthy meals they hadn't recovered to their optimal strength.

At least 600 prisoners have given blood to the Alberdans, so that means in the tournament, around 2 out of every 3 people will be unable to fight. As for the remaining 300, I can't say. He looked towards Mona, his face resolute. He should be able to leave with us. Definitely.

Reithar and the others resumed training the Primal Fold Technique, except for themselves. Aeron in particular made little sound, only the light change in his breathing could be heard.

Mona looked at his friends training for a moment before returning to inside his body. His consciousness drifted into the Bubble. If I can decipher the Designs of this Bubble, maybe I can find out the way it works and give Reithar and the others their own.

Through the eyes of his mental body, he could see the patterns of the Bubble flicker once more.

I have about 3 hours. That means this will flicker only twelve times. I need to concentrate.

Mona stared at the Design, noticing the lines of the design. He felt a bit of shock as he realized what this item was. Was this a special Design? When he learned under the tutors his Father hired for him, Mona had a Mortal ranked Creator to teach him the basic Designs. Mona learned the Designs for elemental fire, water, earth, and wind; this design, however, he hadn't learned. It gave off the feeling it was boundless yet empty, like it was producing a hidden space.

Mona didn't understand the importance of every line yet, but he knew that having the memory of such an item could prove valuable.

If I became a Creator, couldn't I use these Designs for myself? Mona didn't know if he had any talent in the field; during the test for his Aura, he was meant to take the test for Creation ability as well. Alas, he had the Mortal Curse back then.

As soon as Mona memorized ten percent of the Design, it flickered and changed to another. If I try to memorize all four Designs, I'll only be able to commit thirty percent of each to memory. Fair enough. Mona continued on studying the various lines, planning on learning the significance of each curve on another date.

As the moon set below the horizon, the sun began to shower the land with its rays of sunlight. The sand glistened with color, as if today was fated to have change by the heavens. Its warm rays calmed the hearts of all the tired night guards, and awakened all prisoners from their beds.

Mona opened his eyes, staring at the sun cover the land with its soothing rays. Clouds in the sky occasionally hid it from view, only for the sun to appear again. The third hand-to-hand combat testing tournament date has arrived.