Gryfor's words sent the crowd spiraling into a wave of confusion. They looked at the Warden with bewildered faces, not sure what he was going to do next.

Wasn't this a battle royale? Almost all of the fighters that remained on the arena, as well as the spectators of the event had heard of this first hand.

Usually what would occur is a tournament of close quarters combat. No one would be able to use their Arts and everyone would be limited to fighting techniques, such as martial arts, to win and advance to the top 100. Being that there were quite a few people participating this time, the entire tournament should have lasted until sunset.

But Gryfor changed the rules during this tournament, making the event a no Arts barred, battle royale. In a battle royale, it was expected for people to fight with their fists, their Techniques, and their Arts. They would also fight the other combatants intentionally, to make them unconscious and secure victory. As long as no one died, there weren't supposed to be problems.

But Gryfor was going to imprison Mona on charges that did not even make sense. How was Mona supposed to participate in the battle royale if not without attacking his opponents?

Besides there were no rules about forming groups, and a vast majority of the captives did in fact form small groups to combat others. On that account, Mona wasn't wrong either.

Quite a few of the onlookers sighed at the frail noble being cradled in Reithar's arms. All of them knew that this frail noble was a child of the Aurum bloodline.

It was already clear to everyone present the Aurum family of the Leafwind Kingdom was to be captured completely. Quite a few either died protecting each others or ending their own lives to prevent capture. News had already spread of the fall of Primor and Signorus Aurum, the best leaders for the remaining Aurum family.

As for Valence Aurum, he had disappeared and no one had received news of him since. Whether he escaped to another nation or in fact is hiding his identity was unclear. If he was hiding, his skills were quite unparalleled. Even with the aid of Alberdan Espionage Corps, the Emperor was not able to find him.

Mona was perhaps the last known member of the Aurum bloodline. As to why the royal family wanted him, no one was certain, but it likely dealt with the treaty the Aurum family head Primor crafted back in his prime. Many of those watching the Arena, both war captives and guardsmen, understood Mona Aurum would be targeted.

But this time, Mona wasn't even being targeted in secret. He wasn't even being targeted on sensible reasons. The guards themselves may have felt that Taizen's bout was a sensible reason for Mona to be first imprisoned, but for him to be imprisoned for participating properly in a battle royale, it was no longer reasonable.

Quite a few guards were willing to lodge complaints. Even if Mona Aurum was perhaps the most hated former Leafwinder in existence, they still believed that no one should have to suffer consequences for ridiculous claims. Sadly, many of the guards feared the Warden for his superiority, his history, and his Aura rank and declined to pursue the matter. All they did was sigh as Gryfor walked closer to Mona's nearly unconscious body.

After having the guards surround the Arena, Gryfor was ensuring no one would be able to warn the War Council, the Emperor of Alberdos of his future actions. He planned to extract a pint of Mona's blood right then and there. With a swipe of my axe, I could get two pints easily. He could just imagine the feeling of the Lifeblood of an Aurum enter his body.

He had researched the bloodline of Aurum through old records, and found that the Aurum founder himself was a mysterious character. He was indescribably powerful, a sage, and came from no where. Not a single person on the Madrag continent knew the Aurum founder's origins, but everyone believed that wherever he came from was likely formidable. And this Mona Aurum carried his founder's blood, although diluted through generations.

Mona was, to his knowledge, of the sixth generation of Aurum, yet his Lifeblood was of the Lord rank. Just how powerful was the progenitor of the Aurum clan? Gryfor expected he was likely a King or an Emperor ranked figure when he came to Madrag.

Lifeblood was affected by many things, and could improve in various ways. One such way was attaining a high enough Aura level; doing so would remove the impurities in one's Lifeblood, allowing one's progeny to enjoy a rapid pace through Aura manipulation. In fact, this was the cause for why ancient bloodlines were able to obtain such a high rank. It was simply because their ancestors were very talented and they, the descendants, reaped benefits as well.

Gryfor, if he had any respectable bloodlines, had very little of it left. Whatever there was allowed him to reach Saint rank level 7. He wasn't able to go any further. Only after using the Lifeblood of the nobles of the Leafwind Kingdom did he feel his previous bottleneck ready to be broken through.

If he had Mona's blood, however, he could even become a Lord. In Alberdos, becoming an Aura Lord could at the very least earn one land and a title from the Emperor. Also, an Aura Lord was a fearsome existence, just below those Aura Kings that ruled the remaining three nations of the Madrag Empire. The Emperor of Alberdos himself was a Level 1 Aura King. Very frightening indeed.

To become strong, one must seek opportunity. And this is so. Gryfor smiled as he walked closer to Mona. Although the Arena was made from tightly woven plant fibers that have aged through time, each of Gryfor's steps were silent, as if he was walking on air. The weapon in his hand gave off a slight dark purple glow as he walked closer.

"Warden, the charges you gave that young noble are ludicrous. If the Alberdan War Council finds out, you'll lose more than a limb for imprisoning Mona Aurum for such a time." Doctor Aysen knew that Gryfor's composure had changed several times according to the Aurum child's actions.

It became quite clear to him after connecting several ideas that Gryfor wanted Mona Aurum's blood. As for what, he couldn't say, but he wasn't willing to just sit and watch a captive imprisoned for insensible crimes. He had to speak out, because even if the person being attacked was of the Aurum bloodline, he was still human and deserved justice.

"I am doing why job, Doctor Aysen. I hope you restrain yourself to yours as well." Gryfor gave a murderous glare in Aysen's direction, silencing the old doctor in his seat. He hated it when he was being confronted by old men spouting morals during war. What would he understand? All he had to do is tend to the wounded. He never had to fight on the front lines.

Gryfor sneered at the old doctor deep inside his heart. Aysen was no different than any of the others. Always meddling, and never there to lead the charge or clean the field. Always watching from the back lines while watching men die. Morals from monsters among men more worried about their own skins..

Aysen sighed as he stuck to his seat. I'm just a doctor. How can I fight an Aura Saint without

Gryfor continued on closer towards Mona, his back casting an eerie shadow across the Arena. Ardor couldn't understand Gryfor's reasoning one bit. He wondered about why he was following the Warden in the first place. If he is going to act without bothering to make sense, why didn't he go ahead in the first place?

Ardor, through Gryfor's orders, would have the guards select the prisoners for blood extraction. Thus, if Gryfor really wanted Mona Aurum's blood, he could have simply told Ardor to prepare Mona. It would save Gryfor his respect as well as his position in the Alberdan Army, by doing this he was at risk of losing several ranks. Targeting a war captive desired by the Emperor was not something the average prisoner, let alone guard would do.

Gryfor kept walking closer to Mona, a smile appearing on his lips. He was so close, a mere distance of 50 feet away from his prize. Just a few more minutes, then a single slash will give me what I need. At that point, he heard a voice.

"Stay away. Leave Mona alone." Mithal and Aeron were shielding Reithar as he said those words. Right now, no one watching this scene cared about the battle royale anymore. Everyone was watching Gryfor exert his dominance.

Reithar himself was holding Mona's body from lying down. The young noble was taking ragged breaths while Reithar infused his Aura. Steadily, the young noble was recovering from exhausting his stamina and then using willpower to go on. If Mona lost blood now, there was a good chance he would die.

"Step aside, Aura Mortals. Or you can all enjoy my axe." Gryfor felt a trace of displeasure when he saw those three captives protect Mona. Not only did he have to deal with Aysen, but also these three. How many people will get in my way?

Gryfor walked faster, only 20 feet remaining between him and Mona Aurum. His Aura began to sweep out, billowing out in waves. Reithar, Aeron, and Mithal followed in suit, their Aura coming out as well.

Reithar and the Varlier brothers fused the majority of their Aura together. With it, Mithal formed another shielding system. It had three layers, and extended about 15 feet in diameter. The hemisphere was like an onion with 3 layers, each layer more brilliant than the last. On the surface of these shields, vague runes of Aura appeared, giving off the formidable pressure of a mountain range. It was at least ten feet high, and inspired a few of the onlookers to watch in awe.

Gryfor smirked. Pathetic. He had seen true shields of Aura made with Formations. These things were like a house made from straw; it seems reasonable, until a powerful wind would come. And Gryfor was that wind.

His Saint ranked Aura infused his body and his weapon, giving off the ghastly Aura of death. His Aura added two inches to the edge of his war axe, extending the sharpness of the tool. Gryfor laughed out loud, chilling the audience before disappearing from where he stood.

Everyone looked for where he went, only to find him floating just above the makeshift Aura shields. He dual wielded his axe, as if a war god descending to crush a mighty foe. One slash of his axe was made against it.

The shield revealed innumerable cracks in one moment, and broke into pieces the next. The various fragments rained down, only to evaporate as wisps of Aura.

Reithar's face grew ugly at the occurrence. He's simply too powerful. Gryfor slashed with his axe, leaving a vivid deep cross mark on the top of the second shield.

The second shield was no better than the last, breaking into shards without lasting even a second. The wisps of Aura simply filled the air, disappearing into the Aura.

Mithal and the others had grim expressions. All they were doing was delaying the inevitable. Gryfor was going to enter.

Gryfor landed next to the shield, placing away his Weapon Creation. His Aura continued to be channeled using the Howling Wind Technique, the wind in the area starting to pick up as a result. His Aura enveloped his body, making him similar to a cyclone as wind circulated around him.

The sun was no longer visible in the sky as clouds came in all directions, entering the windy region Gryfor had created. The land grew darker and colder as Gryfor touched the shield with his palm.

Through his palm, he sent all of his Aura through. The shield was assaulted by Aura of the Howling Wind, attacked from all directions by gales of varying proportions. The barrier cracked without delay, the wisps of Aura sent flying throughout the air.

Aeron looked at the walls of clouds forming in the sky, his face pale. Is this a Saint ranked Art? Capable of impacting the world? He had never seen a Saint ranked Art in his life, and today he had to watch as one tore apart his defenses.

The final part of their defenses destroyed, all the Varlier brothers and Reithar could do is act voluntarily as cannon fodder, take blows to delay the time Gryfor would need to capture Mona.

Mithal appeared first, channeling the Primal Fold Technique to the maximum. His Aura filled his body, giving him the feeling of unlimited strength. His face, however, still had a trace of despair. Can we really make it through this? He couldn't come up with any alternatives. Either he, Aeron, and Reithar had to absorb damage and cut into Gryfor's time, or watch Mona get taken by the Warden.

Gryfor felt a slight headache coming on. These captives just don't know when to quit. The cyclone of wind vaguely surrounding him was reined in with his Aura. Utilizing it, Gryfor gestured for the cyclone to go towards Mithal's direction, a portion of his Aura guiding the small storm.

Mithal watched the rapidly approaching windstorm come his way. Bracing for impact, his Aura was focused on his legs. Sadly, that wasn't enough. The gales of wind whistled through the air, picking up Mithal from the Arena mat. He struggled in desperation to free himself, only to be thrown to the edges of the courtyard.

"Brother!" Aeron shouted for his sibling as he was thrown. Mithal's body landed on his back, his body rolling a few times before stopping. A trace of blood came from his lips, dripping down his cheek. Aeron couldn't tell if Mithal had broken bones or harmed organs. All he could see is Mithal had become unconscious on landing.

"Don't worry, you can join him." Gryfor smiled, maliciousness tinged in his eyes. He was ridding himself of the final obstacles to his first goal: attain the blood of Mona Aurum. The cyclone of air, under Gryfor's control through Aura, targeted Aeron.

Reithar watched as the frightened Aeron was scooped up off the Arena. His slightly stout body was catapulted high into the air before dropping a fair distance from Mithal. He landed on his knees, screaming from the unbearable pain. Blood formed a small puddle around his knees. If there were any bones broken, only Aeron would know.

Reithar looked at the approaching Gryfor, his face full of horror. A trace of resolution came as he channeled the Primal Fold Technique and the Finite Arrows Art simultaneously. His Aura charged out with a distinct speed, rivaling the speed of the cyclone near him. After placing Mona down, he dashed for Gryfor in hopes of causing damage.

Alas, a mere Aura Mortal could not fight against an Aura Saint. Gryfor laughed at Reithar, amused. At least this one struggled. I'll let him remain uninjured. Using the power of wind, Gryphor forced Reithar to slacken to a crawl.

His speed reduced to almost nothing, Reithar tried hard to make his way to Gryfor. The Howling Wind was simply too strong; it made all his steps difficult to take. Finally, his strength could no longer hold on as he was lifted by the wind. The fist that carried the Finite Arrows Art fired into the air, only causing a slight disturbance.

Under his control, the gusts of wind carrying Reithar was brought closer to Gryfor. He was restrained from movement by Gryfor, and could only watch as Gryfor threw at a fist. At that moment, Reithar lost consciousness, his body thrown to the side.

Those that were still on the Arena were backing away, trying to avoid the wind. Out of fear, quite a few of them left the mat, joining the other prisoners watching from below. Many of their faces were covered with fear, fear of the demon stirring the sky with his mastery of air.

Mona struggled to breath in those harsh conditions, somehow managing to stay awake. His body begged him to sleep, but he held on long enough to watch Reithar become unconscious. As Reithar was tossed aside, Mona felt a trace of heartache when Reithar's body landed. He couldn't help looking for the Varlier brothers, only to feel terrible at seeing their injuries.

At this point, Doctor Aysen could not stay in his seat any longer. He got up from his seat, preparing to go help the fallen.

"What are you doing, Doctor Aysen?" Ardor respected the Doctor, perhaps even more than Gryfor. His voice carried a trace of worry, worry for what Gryfor may do to him for helping the Varlier brothers.

"I am a Doctor, Ardor. I hope you understand what that means." Aysen gave a meaningful glance at Ardor before running towards Mithal, his Medical Art channeled in his hands. He wasn't willing to watch people die.

Gryfor watched as Aysen made his way towards Mithal, but gave him no concern. The old dog is simply doing his work as a judge. I should be more focused here. Gryfor walked closer towards Mona, the wind bursting with ferocity at his every step.

Mona looked deep inside his body, hoping for the Aura Flame of the Aurum Ring to appear once again. All he could do was despair as his consciousness was thrown out by the Bubble. He wasn't strong enough to command the ring yet.

Gryfor stood next to Mona, a devilish smile adorning his face. He lifted the frail child into the air, the young noble's body not able to struggle. His war axe appeared once again, ready to slash at the young noble's chest to get his blood.

"Warden Gryfor, please...spare him." Jaspen's voice filled the air, urging Gryfor to reconsider. The audience looked at the old man with the hoarse voice, pitying him.

He must have been a friend of his father.

It's so sad to watch this. Even if he is from the Aurum family.

An old man pleading for his godson. Depressing indeed.

The crowd largely distanced themselves away from Gryfor, assuming Jaspen was acting this way due to being close with the Aurum family. Those that claimed to be close to the Aurum bloodline felt a trace of guilt. Could they be as willing as this old man, ready to lay down their lives to honor a friendship? As for those who were enemies with the family of Aurum, even they couldn't help but sigh. Such a scene was far more fitting for a novel than reality.

Gryfor looked at the old man Jaspen, recognizing him by his attire. This old man was the cause of Eric Faulkner's upcoming arrival, and was also backed by the same young noble. He was forced to think about resigning. I'm already here, but can I even escape?

Gryfor couldn't believe he doubted his own skill. It's just another old man begging for a junior. I can take care of this. After all, the Faulkner noble still hasn't arrived. He smiled as he looked at Gryfor, gleaming with a malevolent grin.

"Blacksmith Jaspen, I am the Warden. And my rules are final. If you dare interrupt, I won't mind harming you." Gryfor wasn't worried about threatening the old man with death. All that mattered was the grand scheme, and here it was Mona's Lifeblood. I'll receive it, no matter what.

"Please. Please. Please show mercy!" The old Jaspen wailed beyond the wind, angering Gryfor. Under the alarmed gazes of those present, even Ardor himself, Gryfor brought the cyclone towards him. After channeling the Howling Wind Technique once more, he launched the cyclone at Jaspen's figure.

Jaspen struggled to stay on the ground, using the Primal Fold Technique to strengthen his body. He had become an Aura Mortal Level 10 long ago, satisfying the requirements of the Faulkner's young master, and in fact had discovered a bit of the profoundness of becoming an Aura Warrior. Half a step from being one himself, Jaspen was the strongest among the Aura Mortal in this prison.

But against an Aura Saint Level 7, his accomplishments were nothing. Gryfor's cyclone lifted his body into the air, throwing Jaspen's thin, old body into the wind. Jaspen shrieked with a hoarse voice as he was tossed and turned several times before falling to the ground.

His body trembled in the depression he made when he fell. Gryfor launched the blacksmith much higher than Mithal and the others. The impact resulted in his body imprinted in the sandy ground. All of his limbs were at oblong angles, but not only the bones in his arm were broken. A trail of blood came from Jaspen's scalp. Clearly he fell at an angle where his head first struck the ground.

No one knew whether Jaspen was dead until his left hand grasped at Mona's figure a few times. Jaspen horrified the audience as he tried to speak, only for blood to leave his lips. His injuries were severe and spread throughout his body as he lost consciousness.

Having stabilized Mithal and Aeron, Aysen made his way to Jaspen's figure in the sand. A trace of fear and worry filled his eyes as he activated the Medical Art on the old man. The other doctors are tending to the Alberdan soldiers. The blacksmith's life was already so close to its end. If he dies, won't all of us be held responsible?

He knew that Jaspen was set in the Thorn Dungeons under the request of the young master of the Faulkner family. If Jaspen died, Aysen couldn't guarantee he could walk away unscathed. His Medical Art was activated even faster as he thought along these lines. Jaspen's wounds slowly healed as his condition was in the process of stabilization.

Gryfor looked back to Mona Aurum, his war axe ready to delve into the frail body for blood. Finally, I can take his Lifeblood. Just before he swiped against Mona's revealed back, a tremor of fear entered his body.

"It can't be..." Gryfor dropped Mona on the ground, turning around to see a hooded figure.

The hooded figure wore a long flowing cloak of a sandy tan color, camouflaging with the ground. He stood still 3 feet from Gryfor, his face hidden under the hood.

But that didn't cause Gryfor's fear. Gryfor long ago dispersed his Aura to scan the region in case the Faulkner caravan arrived. This hooded figure not only made it past his Aura detection, but was also able to stable the area where he stood.

Gryfor activated his Howling Wind Technique, making it difficult for others to approach him and easy for him to attack from long range. The technique was formidable in this manner and using it should cause any area 100 feet from the user to endure heavy winds. But the area around this robed person was perfectly calm. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't channel the Howling Wind to graze this figure at all.

"I assume you are General Gryfor?" The figure spoke, his voice not lacking in courtesy. He gestured his hands towards Gryfor, revealing leather gloves. From within those gloves, something came out flying. Gryfor couldn't see, but he felt things enter his body. Panic filled his face.

"From what I can tell, you already beat the blacksmith a few steps from Death. You should know that my young master will be very unhappy." The figure spoke, channeling his Aura. The robes of the figure were graced by his Aura, a pristine magenta that shone in the prison darkened by the clouds.

"Projectile Arts: Penetrative Poison." The figure spoke calmly as Gryfor's body fell to the floor, constantly having spasms before he lost consciousness. All Gryfor could think was the horror he felt from deep within when the needles reached his Aura meridians. So, so deadly.

The figure gave off the Aura of an Aura Saint Level 9. He looked saddened for a moment looking at Gryfor before walking to Mona. Crouching down, he helped the young noble regain his stability with his Aura.

Everyone alive, from Aysen to Ardor to the audience terrified by the figure in the tan cloak, stared at the two still remaining on the Arena. The waves of wind from before settled, the clouds above a heavy grey.

"Greetings, Mona Aurum. My name is Athon Pensway. And my young master would like to meet you." Mona watched as the Aura Saint bowed to him once before revealing his face, only to be shocked.

Mona didn't know what to say, wishing to speak but unable to say a word. An Aura Saint Level 9 at the age of 18? What a monster.