Mona remained in contemplation as the sun's glaring rays struck his face. He was still inside of the Bubble, learning the four Designs of one section. In that Bubble, there were 36 sections all fading in and out with different Designs.

So far he had only memorized 30% of one section of this orb. He didn't know how long it would take for him to not only memorize the 144 different Designs but also use them on his own. Mona shifted his consciousness back to his Aura Core.

Below his gut, the Aura Core he had tediously created swiveled in the air. It's white glow seemed to fill the region it occupied and at his will, all its energy was his. I still can't believe I am an Aura practitioner. If purified Aura could fight back against Mortal Curse, why didn't anyone try that before? Or is it that the Bubble is a rarely seen tool capable of curing the incurable? He'd check on that later.

As Mona rose from the bed, the strength he felt from being an Aura Mortal level 6 hastened throughout his body. Although it looked to on the brink of collapse, hidden inside was an indescribable power, thanks in part to the refining Bubble treasure.

His heart beat was calm, while a simple stretch if his body produced cracking sounds from all of his joints. Mona began the basics of martial arts, things he watched his Father's men do all the time. His feet were out of place, his fist clumsy as he threw each out.

It's hand-to-hand combat, but my fist techniques...they're lacking. Mona continued on, speeding through the process. He tried kicks, punches, and jabs, but his body was always out of place. It wasn't to surprising that when one began martial arts with a feeble body, such a thing would happen.

Hearing the taps and steps Mona was taking, the other three quickly awakened from meditation. Mithal in particular seemed to have gained insight into ascending into Level 10 with the Primal Fold Technique, as his Aura was more closely packed around his body. Aeron and Reithar still had work to do.

Watching Mona attempt to complete simple martial arts, Reithar and the others realized their critical mistake: they didn't teach Mona how to utilize the body strengthening Technique with martial arts. Even if his body was strengthened with the Primal Fold, it would be much more useful if he had learned fighting methods. Without any foundation in fighting, this was like a dragon without its head.

"Mona, come here. I'll teach you a few moves." Mithal spoke once again, revealing his body defensive and offensive stances. Mona followed in suit, his body beginning to sweat from his first training session.

Reithar and Aeron sparred against each other in that small cell. Their moves were quick with the Technique channeled through their bodies. At one point, Reithar's jab was blocked by Aeron's arm but the momentum forced him to fall atop the old bed.

From all the abuse the cellmates had given it, Aeron's body was the final time. The bed creaked heavily under the pressure of Aeron before it broke at it's four legs, shrinking in height by about 2 inches. The snapping sound won Mithal and Mona's attention as they looked at the destruction. Splinters and dust fell on the floor, the bed's legs broken beyond repair.

"Reithar, watch it!" Aeron felt a bit angry from breaking the bed. If it wasn't for Reithar, perhaps he wouldn't seem as stout as now.

Mona and Mithal went back to their practicing techniques, the sun slowly moving across the horizon. With each strike Mona's form became much more successful, but it was still lacking that air of professional training or that feeling of years of practice. Although to a common civilian it may look as if he was skilled, if he tried to fight his movements would be too fluid for a true match.

Sweat glistened all over his body, a single drop the size of a bean slowly descending from his temples to his chin. Although training in this fashion was exhilarating, Mona's body was still weak from days of reduced meals and years of no physical training, not to mention the Mortal Curse had reduced him to a Cripple before. His heavy breaths continued on, his skin revealing a faint tinge of red.

"The guard will be here any minute." Aeron spoke, watching Mona sit on his bed, meditating. His body is still not used to combat. Can he make it?

Reithar and the others quickly brushed the splinters from the bed into the terrible latrines at the back. Mithal and Aeron then sat strategically in front of the exposed areas to prevent the guards from noticing any damage.

Sure enough, a guard came towards Mona's cell, opening it with his key. The Defense Sigil he owned had already been activated, flickering above his shoulder.

"Get out." The guard showed indifference as he ordered the inmates to come out. The guards were switched everyday, so he didn't notice the originally bedridden Mona now walking out of the cell.

As Mona and his party walked down the cell, Mona in particular won quite a bit of attention. Few had seen him these past several days, not knowing if he was alive or not. Among them were the few remaining supporters and enemies of the Aurum bloodline, the few that managed to live to now.

Mona and the others stood in line under the blazing heat. Not far from them, the courtyard meant for the prisoners to eat was not replaced with a circular mat. It was made from some plant fiber, and signs of wear and tear covered its tan colored ropes.

Is that the arena? Mona kept walking forwards in the line, his gaze watching as guards positioned various things around the giant mat, including a table and chairs. The table was adorned with a blue satin covering, shining in the sunlight.

Mona felt his cuffs vibrate for a minute while the Swarm Creation itself in the distance began to give off a green beams of light before disappearing. Looking towards the other prisoners, he noticed the same thing occurred.

Is this to prevent escape? Mona didn't know for sure, but that seemed like a reasonable idea. After all, if any prisoners were to secretly leave the area, they could very well leave the compound. Perhaps someone had at one point this way.

Joseph watched as Mona came in front of him, his hand stirring the simmering cauldron. His eyes radiated a warm glow hidden beneath indifference as he gave Mona a hearty bowl and bread. The bowl had the choicest meats and the bread seemed natural. Mona didn't know if Joseph had pleaded secretly on his behalf to improve the meals of the prisoners.

Mona walked towards the mat, sitting a fair distance from it. He tried to drink the soup sprinkled with meat bits, but its taste was terrible. It's like eating Fugye Cheese. His memories of weird delicacies from his Father's friends was starting to return. He looked at the bowl, the murky contents within.

It's all I have. I have to. In one go, Mona swallowed the whole bowl. To be more correct, the bowl was more of a cup. However, his actions of chugging the entire cup of stew down gave him a few peculiar gazes. Reithar and the others soon sat behind them, Aeron grinning away.

Look at him! He looks worse than me when I eat! At least I take ten seconds to drink my stew, not five. Aeron looked with a smug smile. He eyed Mona's bread, asking for a portion of it.

Mona broke his bread into two parts, giving Aeron the other half. Aeron, however took offense.

"How can you give me this portion?" Aeron looked as if he was interrogating Mona. Mona didn't know what was wrong with how he broke the bread into two. Aeron quickly switched the two halves of the loaf, looking satisfied. Mona didn't understand this fellow at all. Just how much difference was the portions?

Mona's confused gaze only ruined Aeron's mood. You clearly gave me the smaller half! How can you expect a growing boy to eat less than you. I'm two years younger and you tried to hog two crumbs to yourself. Hmph! Aeron went on a tirade in his mind, not noticing the unpleasant gaze he was receiving from Mithal and Reithar as he ate the bread.

At this moment the vast area of the courtyard was filled with the remaining prisoners. In the distance Mona could see Taizen's former cronies far in the corner. Without Taizen, they were unable to hold their own ground, falling to the back.

Ardor made his appearance, winning salutes from many of the guards. He looked at the mat on the floor and at the table, looking pleased.

"Junior, you did a great job." Ardor went to the young guard overseeing the whole event, his face revealing a gregarious smile.

"Thank you, sir!" The guard couldn't believe that he won the attention of Ardor for something this simple. If I can get his good graces, can't I become vice head in no time! He inwardly crossed inside his heart to continue doing such things.

"Just one problem. There is only a single chair. Where are the chairs for me and Doctor Aysen?" Ardor retained his smile as he explained the real problem. His tone did not change, but the face of the young guard did.

The pale young guard looked at his superior with a sense of fear, quickly ordering someone nearby to get another pair of chairs. How could I forget the chairs of all things?

Gryfor began his descent from his office. His armor was still gleaming in the rays of sunlight that came from the windows around. An imperceptible smile hung on his lips as he walked down the corridors and stairs. Several of the guards and servants strewn around the building made sure to salute and even bow if possible to Gryfor, gaining a hand gestured in return. His steps were smooth, barely uttering a sound as he walked on the floor.

Doctor Aysen gave a few commands to his fellow tired medical officers before he made his way to the yard. He had only been able to get 15 minutes of relief by chance and felt it went by too long. Why do I even do this? He couldn't remember what his dream was as a doctor. Surely toiling away on a territory during the latter stages of war wasn't in his dreams as a child.

"Everyone preparing to test in the 89th Darkthorn Tournament, please rise to the mat." The guard leading the event announced with his voice, using Aura to spread it over the whole yard. Soon after various figures rose up on the large mat, looking at each other with ferocious glares.

Mona rose afterwards with Reithar the others, winning gazes of shock. They didn't think that a mere mortal would dare contend with Aura practitioners, even if they were average talented. Quite a few of the prisoners laughed, and guards did no better, jeering at the mere mortal trying to seem formidable. Supporters of the Aurum family sighed their heads, believing that today the Aurum bloodline would truly disappear from existence.

At this moment, Gryfor and Doctor Aysen were guided to their seats by Ardor. Their appearances won attention from everyone present. Aysen would serve as a third judge of the competition and help with deathly injuries. Gryfor was the Warden himself, and he was the head judge. As for Ardor, he was the second judge of the competition, his work as Gryfor's aid winning him a seat, to the envy of his peers.

Mona froze as he saw the Warden, his heart flaring with rapid beats. It's him! The memories of the night came back flowing like a cascade, each thought leading to another. How did he come here? Why did he come here? His sense of revenge was only growing, seeing the murderer of his family just a short distance away.

Gryfor had yet to notice Mona's body as he was given the honor of speaking by the event organizer.

"I would like to change the rules of this battle. If we were to have a tournament, I believe it would take us quite some time to go through each case. Henceforth, this event will be a battle royale, and the surviving 100 participants will win from the 400 present. If you are unsure of winning, then you may forfeit by leaving the arena mat."

"Of course, no weapons are allowed, only your fists and feet, your Aura and your Arts. If you kill someone intentionally, you will have to answer to me. Now let the games, begin!" Gryfor spoke towards the audience, his Saint Aura carrying his voice over the compound. Many a guard working near the windows looked through the windows, now watching the fight.

Mona looked at the Varlier brothers and Reithar. His skills were lacking, but if they helped he could hide his Aura Core until the end. "We can work as a team."

The others nodded at Mona. With the current turn of events, this situation was much more manageable. As long as they didn't encounter more than four-man units, they would do well.

The event announcer watched on as the various combatants began to fight. Fists flew in various directions, bruises appearing on various bodies. Those that used Aura and their Arts first plowed through the crowd, clearing about a quarter of those present.

Reithar and Mithal fought hard, channeling the Primal Fold Technique as they attacked against various individuals. Reithar watched as another fellow tried to attack with the Finite Arrows Art, coming from the rear. His fist cradled with Aura forged from the Lord ranked Technique, the two looked in awe as the Finite Arrows Art not only dispersed, but the fellow attacking heard his right hand crack under the pressure. He quickly conceded, leaving the mat to avoid further injury.

Mithal and Aeron had no trouble either, quickly clearing out many of the foes around them. Mithal tried using his family's Lancing Arts with the Primal Fold Technique's Aura channeling, finding their synergistic effect very pleasing. Aeron was not far off, able to break most of the Mortal and Warrior ranked Arts with as much ease as his brother.

After 15 minutes, the mat was beginning to decrease in participants. What was once 400 eager captives now dwindled to 230. Various groups had won it out in different sections, Mona's group a black horse gradually climbing the ranks. As more and more people were weeded out, the fighters grew more difficult.

Mona continued to channel the Primal Fold Technique, pouring the Aura into the other three. As he lacked in any fighting techniques or Arts, the best he could do is ensure that the Varlier brothers and Reithar did not exhaust their Aura reserves at a critical moment. He stayed near the center, exhaustion not present on his face.

Gryfor looked on, noticing the young frail noble in the distance acting like the commander of a small unit. His eyes revealed a hint of shock before he looked towards Ardor. The head of the guards felt something strange, only to find Gryfor's gaze focused on his head.

"Ardor, tell me. Why is Mona Aurum fighting on the arena?" Gryfor looked at Ardor, a trace of displeasure in his voice.

"Mona Aurum?" Ardor couldn't believe that a mere mortal was in a battle royale among Aura manipulators. He scanned the crowd not finding him at first. Under Gryfor's direction, he saw the young man standing almost on the other end of the arena. His face grew ugly as he saw three other prisoners defend him.

"He, he can channel Aura?" Ardor's surprise and bewilderment was evident in his voice. How can a mortal channel Aura? From the Art or Technique the quartet was using, both Gryfor and Ardor could tell it was higher ranked than perhaps even theirs.

"I thought that I gave you that serum to kill the noble. But now that I see, the treasures this Mona Aurum carries are unbelievable. But his generosity with those other captives will be his undoing." Gryfor looked at the frail figure with a trace of greed. And soon, they will all be mine? Gryfor revealed a smile as he saw the four-man group dismantle another group of prisoners.

Doctor Aysen looked at the malicious gazes of the other two guards, perplexed. His gaze followed theirs and landed on the boy of average height who seemed just about ready to collapse. What is so amazing of this-- He didn't finish the thought as he sensed the Lord ranked Technique the boy was channeling.

L-L-Lord ranked Technique!?! Doctor Aysen had worked in the medical field of the army for many years, but had never seen such a peerless technique. He easily deduced that this array of warriors would be among the one hundred survivors. Sure enough, Mona and his group had managed to still be on the Arena mat once the numbers had dwindled to 175.

That old man Jaspen must have given him that Technique. I knew he was lying! Ardor grit his teeth in rage as he stared at the old man sitting near the Arena. Today was the testing date and the Faulkner noble was coming for him. He hated how he had been duped by a seemingly demented old fellow ten steps from the cemetery.

Mona and the others kept going through rounds and rounds. Arts were broken over and over, until the point was reached where the 140 remaining were only crafty individuals. Like Mona and the others, they formed 4 and 5 man groups early on to rid themselves of the soloists. All that remained were temporary groups.

32 different groups were left of different varying sizes. The larger ones had six members of slightly lower levels as Aura Mortals but good coordination and numbers. The smaller ones had at least three members with higher than average levels but sub par teamwork skills. Their Arts were flashy and dazzling as they trumped their foes.

Mona had begun to sweat once again, droplets and puddles all over the floor. The Primal Fold Technique was exhausting when coordinating with teammates as well; trying to avoid defeat while emboldening allies with Aura was not simple at all. He looked at Mithal and the others who were now fighting a three man squad.

Mithal was having difficulties against the rapid punches of the fellow before him. His Lancing Art training from before proved useful as he was able to defend, but with the flurry of strikes he wasn't able to put in his signature Lancing strike to end him. Besides that, the enemy was agile, avoiding Ardor's attacks whenever he did have a chance to counterattack.

Aeron's front was not that great either. Lacking in agility and speed, he focused more on defense against the enemy blows. However, the enemy somehow was able to discover weak points in his stance, always striking them at the chance. His body had a few bruises from these strikes. If it wasn't for the Primal Fold Technique, chances are he would have fallen from exhaustion with broken bones.

Reithar seemed to be doing well, pushing his enemy to a defensive form. Their altercation was heavy, as Reithar used the Finite Arrows Art with the Primal Fold Technique to hopefully deal heavy damage. That didn't come as the enemy's sidesteps were fluid-like. The two of them traded offense and defense several times in a minute, neither gaining an edge.

Mona continued to pour Aura into the three of them, the Primal Fold Technique in full effect. Aura left his body in illusory waves that entered Mithal, Aeron, and Reithar. The sight of these waves astounded a few nearby into avoiding the fight. From the looks of it, Mona may seem frail but his Aura channeling was frightening to the core.

Gryfor watched on, a sense of unease filling him. He had the Mortal Curse. He can channel a Lord ranked Technique without side effects. His talent is up to the point of making Aura illusory as an Aura Mortal. And he has Lord ranked Lifeblood. Just what artifacts does he have on him?

Doctor Aysen was more and more amazed by the skill of that feeble bodied silhouette pouring Aura into his comrades. His talent is remarkable, to say the least. With a Lord ranked technique, he is able to create illusory waves. Aysen didn't notice the grave faces of the two judges beside him, completely unaware of their feelings.

Through steady defeats between various groups, the number of surviving combatants had reached 115. Each group didn't want to leave the arena, many of them here fighting for their third time.

I can't leave. I want a chance to live.

If I lose here, what will become of me?

At least a servant. I can't become a slave!

All of them knew that after three weeks of attempting to be carted off, the persons leftover would at best become total slaves. Their freedoms would be below even that of servants, their lives completely in the hands of their masters.

After being carted off as slaves, they would be given permanent chains and a branding to symbolize ownership, and a Design would be carved into their flesh to ensure complete obedience. It would be lucky if they served as only physical labor day and night. If they were forced to warm someone's bed or a means of satisfaction... They didn't dare dwell on such thoughts.

And so, they fought with their hearts to protect their sense of security. Better to be a servant to another person and still have the chance to live a part of life with freedom, than to spend the rest of eternity satisfying the delights of an eccentric moneybags for the rest of time.

Heigler looked at his group, watching as the four that came with him were having trouble with another set of four. His attention was caught by Mona's group off in the distance, and a thought emerged. Ha ha! I can succeed in this trial for myself! A sinister smile arced across his face.

Seeing his allies laboring with their foes, he quickly came close to them. Thinking Heigler was going to help, their moods brightened only to plummet. When Heigler came to the first set of fighters, becoming the fisherman as he knocked both his ally and enemy unconscious.

"Heigler you fiend!" Another of those allies saw the actions of Heigler, his voice erupting throughout the arena. All around, the other prisoners stopped fighting, grinning as they realized Heigler's grand scheme. They just had to watch while Heigler cleared their difficulties.

Heigler smiled as he knocked unconscious the speaker from earlier, his mind filled with thoughts. Brilliant, Heigler! Not only do you get a guaranteed space in the 100 survivors, all of those survivors now owe you a favor! Such intelligence! He couldn't help gloating inside as he knocked the remaining four unconscious.

Gryfor and Ardor looked at Heigler's actions, surprised. Gryfor himself was inwardly smiling at the actions of this prisoner. Thanks to him, I will be able to extract 3 pints of blood from that Aurum child. If he is going to be a servant, I should make him mine. Gryfor couldn't wait testing the Lifeblood Refining Art using Mona's blood. How much of an effect would it have if three drops of Lifeblood was used?

Aysen sighed. A talented child is about to fall. I guess it was only Fate for him to not be able to avoid enslavement. He pitied the figure gasping for air as he channeled the Primal Fold Technique. It was really a dismal sight.

Heigler walked towards Mona's group fighting, his movement rapid yet silent. The crowd on the Arena cheered as Heigler moved forward. Enemies of the Aurum family showed intense satisfaction at the sight of Mona Aurum's limited time before failing in the battle. As for the Aurum bloodline supporters, they couldn't bring themselves to watch, burying their eyes into their torn sleeves to not witness the fall of Mona Aurum.

Heigler looked at the group, a smile replaced with indifference. Those three men around Mona are his allies. They are stuck in a difficult position right now. Thankfully they are, because now I can target the Aurum child.

If I get rid of him, the others will lose their self-control and their ability to keep fighting without excess Aura. Then I can just force all six of the combatants to faint. Perfect! Heigler eyed Mona's body as it struggled to breathe from all the channeling. He dangerously neared Mona, his hands channeling his Dagger Arts, ready to jab the child at the right time.

"Heigler, back off!" Reithar's voice was cold as he hollered at the approaching foe. This demon, if I wasn't tied up here, I would go after him. He looked to the troubled breathing of his friend before his foe's upcoming strike took his attention again.

Mithal's face was grim. He wasn't able to defend Mona and himself against two foes. His brother was somehow holding on with several bruises. This is getting terrible.

With the ongoing support of the crowds below and on top of the Arena, Heigler dashed faster towards Mona. His two hands were held in, ready to unleash a jab attack from left and right. The Dagger Arts had already been channeled completely, covering his hands in an illusory veil of sharp Aura.

"Aurum child, here I come!" Heigler couldn't help but smile once again. It was finally time to end this battle royale.