Mona couldn't believe that the figure in front of him in the tanned robe was an Aura Saint. The fellow had the air of a scholar and was still 18, yet for him to make such great gains in Aura manipulation meant he was a genius. Or at least, a genius to Mona.

His background in the Leafwind Kingdom gave Mona a bad yardstick. In Leafwind, the quality of the average Aura cultivator was quite low among the Madrag nations, by at least several levels. Mona sighed at the disparity. A Leafwinder genius could very well be commonplace elsewhere

Mona understood that this man named Athon Pensway was quite skilled in the art of battle. In just a few moments, Gryfor had fallen to the floor, unconscious. Athon on the other hand, had to only swipe his palm to attack. Such precision, such skill was rare to see.

Based on the way this Athon came, Mona understood this could very well be the right-hand of the young noble of the Faulkner family. And that young noble wanted to meet him in person at this moment.

From his times with his father, Mona had long ago learned of the bloodline of many rulers in the Madrag continent, both main and side branches. Why? Because it could have proven useful in the future; Signorus hoped his son would one day be able to befriend upper nobility using the name of the Aurum family. Thankfully he understood the Faulkner family was the third branch from the throne of Alberdos.

Why does he want to meet me? Is it because I am an Aurum? In Alberdos, the Aurum family members were prized and desired to have by the royal family. Anyone that was able to deliver them members would be able to receive a handsome reward.

In the war, many of the Aurum bloodline chose death over capture, either by defending their loved ones with their lives or taking their own. Primor and Signorus died in the attack on the Eshwin Aurum manor, and the Aura genius Valence Aurum was no where to be seen. Wouldn't it make sense for the Faulkner family to come for him?

"Thank you, Pensway. I'd very much like to meet your young master as well." Mona returned the invitation to this right-hand man. He hoped to be able to take Reithar and the others with him through the Faulkner family. Better to be the servant of the third ranked family in Alberdos than the life of a slave for an unknown buyer.

Athon smiled at Mona, nodding his head. He saw the frail figure of Mona, but felt that air of confidence a noble would have in making judgement. Not only that, he had long ago arrived to this place, amazed by Mona's performance.

The Lion Creation was very fast indeed, the whole Faulkner caravan arriving within a 100 miles of Darkthorn Prison at the break of dawn. Eric Faulkner decided that instead of marching into the prison, they should instead scout the entire prison first.

Eric's departure to the Darkthorn Prison was already learned of by various individuals beforehand. He wanted to ensure his own safety. The Faulkner Family had many enemies, and quite a few would be willing to expend resources to capture the young master of Faulkner for ransom.

Moreover, Eric learned that the Darkthorn Prison had sent multiple caravans to Alberdos before, loaded with war captives. Through his connections, he learned Darkthorn Prison was ordered to send prisoners of at least 100 men of the best talent each week until the war was over.

Darkthorn Prison had stored and released Leafwinder prisoners for the Alberdos Empire since the beginning of the war. The War Council back in Alberdos claimed the prison and had decreed its use would continue until the end of the war, and a prisoner was allowed three attempts to leave via caravan to Alberdos. With the Great Basin Province merely being surveyed now, the war was already complete. This meant that the final batch of prisoners would consist of the poorest of talents among the Leafwind war captives, and today would be the final caravan of talents before the remaining prisoners were shipped off to become slaves.

Armed with this knowledge through his support networks, Eric decided instead for Athon to view the land. Athon was an Aura Saint, and this he didn't fear for Athon being harmed. Athon was able to use his Saint ranked Aura to dash at abnormal speeds, and was also able to hide his presence. Besides, Eric wanted to know how Jaspen was being treated inside of the prison. And so, Athon was sent ahead to the prison, at about the time when the battle royale began.

Hence, when Athon returned from scouting the prison, he asked about everything occurring within.

"Well everything is very fine. I met already with the Aurum child. He seems to be quite talented in training Aura. That rumor of his Mortal Curse must be a lie." Athon described Mona inside of the Eric's room inside of the Lion, recounting Mona's use of Aura and fighting Heigler with the Primal Fold Technique.

"And what of Jaspen? How is he?" Eric wouldn't have come if it wasn't for Jaspen. The old blacksmith Unaware with the spatial Design capability was worth far more than Primor Aurum. Only nobles understood the true value of a spatial Design effect added to a Creation.

"This is the problem. Jaspen is currently being healed by the head military doctor. Apparently the new Warden, Gryfor, had injured the old fellow severely. As for what, I could not say." Athon told Eric of Jaspen lying flat in the ground, his expression one of pain as the old man grasped at air with his hand.

Eric heard Athon's words, his face becoming increasingly ugly.

Before he had come to the Darkthorn Prison many weeks ago, he had expected to take away many good seedlings to add to his forces among the war captives of Leafwind. Among them he found the three blacksmiths of Rosalin, Jaspen included among them.

From their Aura levels, it became quite clear that Jaspen was lacking in the ability to train Aura. To reach high as a blacksmith in making Creations of weaponry and accessories, one needed to have a minimum Aura rank to make the counterpart Creation as a Creator. For example, only an Aura Progenitor or better could make a Progenitor ranked Creation in their field.

At the time, Eric had secretly found out the old man was an Unaware, a Creator who had not yet discovered their ability. Under the cosmic night skies, there were many people blessed with unique Designs and patterns, and the power these Designs carried varied. But Jaspen had a spatial Design, and the worse form of a spatial Design would allow the Creator to make inventory rings for storage, able to store at least 1000 cubic feet of items in one ring. Such an item was extremely precious.

But to make such an item, not only did Jaspen have to be an Aura Warrior at the least, he also had to discover his spatial Design. Luckily, if one reached higher in Aura cultivation, understanding Designs became much easier. So thus, Eric ordered for Jaspen to bide his time and train.

Eric also made sure that the Warden and most of the involved guards understood that Jaspen was not to be harmed. He hadn't found out that the Warden he had warned was replaced by General Gryfor, and that Jaspen was at risk of being harmed by this new fellow at Darkthorn Prison.

Eric thought that Gryfor should have attacked at least for a sensible reason, and perhaps not even attack Jaspen but rather restrain him. But from Athon's retelling, all that Jaspen had done was plead for mercy on behalf of Mona Aurum, the second person he wished to take away.

From this standpoint, Eric was furious. An attack on Jaspen was essentially disrespect to his name. Even though he hated being the son of his father, he still held the name of Faulkner with pride. A lowly general attacked Jaspen for asking mercy on another's behalf, nothing more. How dare this Gryfor attack one of my men without restraint?

Eric left his room, a trace of anger gleaming in his eyes. Athon followed soon after, his hands held behind his back.

"Everyone, we go to the prison immediately!" Eric's voice was heard by all the minor leaders of the caravan, who quickly began to ready things into the Lion Creation. Eric entered the large creation, going straight to the control room, reattaching the white Aura stone. The creation roared to life, carrying the mass of people away.

After just a moment of waiting, the Lion reappeared in front of the gates of Darkthorn Prison. Eric walked out of the Creation, fury awaiting to be unleashed. The few guards still watching the gate followed their routine. A single guard came from a small door in the tower, made into the post of one of the gates. He stood in the sand as he faced Eric's caravan.

"Halt! What business do you have here?" The guard spoke, his words neither warm nor cold.

"Business? My name is Eric Faulkner, and I have come for the blacksmith Jaspen. You have ten seconds to open this gates. One more second, and watch as Darkthorn Prison is destroyed, along with the Alberdan military inside." Eric was clearly livid with the whole situation. His own face was stepped on by Jaspen being assaulted. Jaspen may have not been one of Eric's men yet, but it was guaranteed that the spatial Design Unaware would be. To prepare for the future, Eric had hoped that his kindness to the old man could at the least earn him free spatial Creations every decade. Even getting a single spatial Creation once would be worth his efforts.

The guard at his post looked at Eric, perplexed for a moment before his face became grave. Athon could see the guard's eyes tinged with fear and shock at the arrival of Eric Faulkner. After all, how many Alberdans were able to meet him in person, the renowned ascetic noble of Alberdos? Very few indeed in the world. And moreover, that ascetic did not come bearing warmth, but rather thorns.

"Open the gates! Open them! The young master of the Faulkner family has arrived!" The guard screamed at the top of his lungs, his words heard by all present. A trace of worry was hidden within; the guard hoped that he wouldn't be harmed for being an "inconvenience." Nobles could easily get away with such crimes in Alberdos.

The sounds of running guards could be heard within the posts after they heard the sentinel yell. The sounds of the gate's chains being pulled could be heard by Eric, as the iron doors were pulled open, inch by inch. After waiting for a few minutes, the whole gate opened, allowing the caravan inside.

Accompanied by Athon and the other minor leaders, Eric entered Darkthorn Prison, his face colder than a night of the Alberdan Desert beyond civilization. His gaze shifted across the blocks before he noticed the courtyard. He sent the minor leaders to the administrative section to verify his appearance and rid himself of the formalities.

Arriving at the mat, several guards stared at Faulkner with fear and guilt. Just a short distance away, Aysen was madly using his Medical Arts to keep the old man alive, sweat running down his temples as his Aura reserves reached the minimum. The guards that were watching the Arena battle royale wished they too were helping Aysen now. At least then they would have an alibi.

Eric saw the body of Jaspen, still clawing at the Arena. Thanks to Aysen's medical skills, the old man had not yet died. However, if Aysen slipped even for a moment, chances were Jaspen would die. Along with several doctors he brought, Eric walked towards Aysen and Jaspen, the amazed crowd of captives making a route for them to walk through.

Aysen had kept his eyes focused on Jaspen, sighing. If only I had better skills. Perhaps you wouldn't have to die. At that moment, another pair of hands appeared on Jaspen's body, using a more powerful Medical Art than Aysen. Bewildered, Aysen rose his head to see the young master of the Eric family sitting beside him and three, four doctors ready to stabilize Jaspen's condition.

"Did you come to Jaspen's aid?" Eric spoke in a low voice. Although an ascetic, Eric valued those who aided him one way another. And for people that harmed him one way or another, he regarded them as scum undeserving of a long and happy life.

Aysen looked at the pathetic garb of this young man. Is he the leader of these doctors or just a beggar? He really couldn't tell anything but that the youth in front of him had a piercing gaze, a gaze that seemed to watch even the subtleties of life.

Aysen nodded, still lost in his thoughts. As he was helping Jaspen, Aysen did not feel fatigue from the numerous nights without sleep. Only when the four medical doctors had taken his place did he give way to exhaustion. Eric took note of Aysen's actions.

"Have him taken to the camp. Let him sleep there." Eric had one of his men carry the sleeping Aysen to the tent community being built within the prison. He didn't plan on sleeping in a prison bed, and since the Darkthorn Prison had great space, he ordered his men beforehand to simply rebuild the tents in the rest of the courtyard. Aysen was carried to a newly made tent near the edges of the tents, lost in a deep sleep.

Eric watched as Jaspen's body returned to how it looked when he first met him. The broken bones in his body and skull were reattached, his organs set back in place, his heart returned to stability. Eric watched this all occur with his Aura as the medical doctors healed his body with their Arts.

Eventually, the medical doctors seized their operations, wiping the sweat off their brows. The drops ran down their cheeks and fell into the sand. Under the sun, using Medical Arts was very taxing indeed.

Jaspen's body was back to optimal conditions. Athon began to lead Eric to Gryfor's body, laid across the Arena mat. As the young master looked at this fallen general, he couldn't help but feel his rage worsen. He harmed Jaspen for having kindness. I almost lost an Unaware because of him.

"Should I release him of the poison?" Athon looked back at Eric, both of them standing in front of Gryfor's body flat on the ground. He had allowed for his Art to remain constant this whole time. Doing so had made Gryfor remain in a state of constant paralysis that resembled death. If he retracted his needles pierced in Gryfor's meridians, the general would return to normal. He wanted to know whether Eric would desire such a thing.

Should I capture him, or interrogate him here? Eric looked around, deciding on the former. It's simply asking for rumors to occur. He didn't like unwanted attention caused by his actions. After all, questioning an Aura Saint respected in the Alberdan Army was still quite a scene to behold. And Eric was sure that if he acted now, his methods would be exaggerated by his rivals and foes in Alberdan nobility later.

"No, we take him alive. Have him taken to just outside my tent. That way, the other guards can hear him scream." Eric didn't plan to be benevolent to this general, regardless of who his backer was. That was just how valuable a spatial Creator was.

Athon gave a mischievious smile, a tinge of joy in his eyes. Time for fun. He quickly came up with methods of torture he could use to find out the motive of Gryfor's actions. Athon looked into the distance, smiling as he saw a few Creators bring cuffs and chains to bound Gryfor. Once the behemoth was made akin to a ball, Athon lifted Gryfor with ease, happy as he carried the general towards Eric's tent. How he loved the occasional chance to inflict pain.

Eric looked at Athon smiling, shaking his head. I chose him for his talents. Too bad he enjoys afflicting others with fear. Athon was, in truth, barely able to graduate the Alberdan Imperial Academy due to his "love" of watching others feel terrified. The young adult named Athon Pensway took his admiration to great heights, and risked expulsion. Only Eric's personal recommendation of retaining Athon kept the school's headmaster from doing so.

In return, Athon was willing to remain Eric's follower for life, with a few demands of course. One of those was the chance to harvest the Aura Cores of Eric's enemies with the young master's permission. The other was the right to frighten any of Eric's enemies as he, Athon, pleased as long as it fit Eric's needs. Eric agreed to them all, seeing these desires as nothing more than a way to avoid having to hire a personal executioner and torturer.

At this moment, Jaspen opened his eyes, turning his head left and right. He could only see the various doctors scattered around him, checking his pulse and breathing. When Jaspen had awaken, the supposed leader of the doctors felt relief. Just what happened?

The last thing he remembered was pleading for Mona to avoid being assaulted by Gryfor. The world was dark and windy before he felt a gust of air lift him into the sky. Screaming, his body hit the sandy ground, his cranium cracked inward and his body bleeding through his skin and inside. Wasn't I supposed to die? He lifted himself with his thin arms, sitting in the imprint his body made from the fall.

Eric looked at Jaspen, his gaze focusing on Jaspen's improving complexion. Good. He didn't leave us. Eric felt somewhat at fault for Jaspen's injuries, as he was the one that told the guards to hold the old blacksmith before he returned. If Jaspen became a respected spatial Creator, that fault could cause the Faulkner family, especially him great trouble.

As the young noble of the Faulkner family made his way, Jaspen watched as the doctors made room for Eric to sit. The Faulkner child sat on the ground, unlike a noble of many Alberdan families. He held Jaspen's hand as a trace of guilt came with his words.

"Blacksmith Jaspen, I'd like to apologize for my actions in all this. I hope you no longer feel any pain?" The medical doctors heard Eric's words. They were no longer surprised in the way this noble acted, thanks to years of exposure. Of all the nobles they served, they preferred Eric over the many others.

"Young master Faulkner, I'm fine. Thanks you your doctors, I feel anew. Even my body seems fine." Jaspen felt a bit confused from the way this noble acted. He hadn't met Eric enough times to realize the nature of this young man yet. Jaspen's experience with Leafwinder nobles was not good enough to help him in this situation.

"That's good. Can you tell me of your treatment? And what happened in this situation?" Eric seemed to be genuinely pleased with Jaspen being alright. He still lacked information on what occurred during this testing session. It wasn't that he didn't trust Athon; rather, he thought it would be beneficial to have another perspective.

"Well, young master Faulkner, this is what happened." Jaspen began to recount how after being left in the dungeon, he wasn't given food or water, and a Creation was set up to make his throat hoarse. Hearing this, Eric gave a dark glare at the guards still present in the courtyard, their hearts thumping with fear from his gaze.

Jaspen continued on, Eric's face growing ugly as he learned of how the battle between Mona and Heigler occurred, and of how Gryfor set out to punish Mona for following the rules of the competition. Eric learned of what Mona's friends went through, trying to protect the young noble, all the way to the point of Jaspen pleading and later being attacked himself.

Eric's heavy face after learning the situation gave no hints of what he was thinking. He rose, helping the old blacksmith to his feet. The old man had trouble at first before finally rising up.

His body, it's so thin. Are these Alberdans even human? Eric turned around, only to see similar bodies among all the prisoners. Although all of them gave off traces of Aura from their Aura Cores, their bodies were akin to corpses given an extra layer of skin. Those that seemed more healthy tended to give off greater Aura undulations.

"Jaspen, come with with me. I'd like to give you proper treatment for my ignorance. Come." Eric beckoned for Jaspen to walk towards the tents of the Faulkner caravan, already walking towards them.

"Young master Faulkner, can you bring them along as well?" Jaspen pointed to the unconscious Mithal, Aeron and Reithar. After trying to defend Mona, many of them had sustained heavy injuries. If it wasn't for Aysen's quick thinking, likely all of them would have died. Right now, all of them were stable, but still unconscious from their fatigue and residual pain.

Eric Faulkner looked to the three different bodies laying on the sandy ground. Are these the friends of this Mona Aurum?

Eric understood that Jaspen and Mona Aurum had begun a friendship of sorts. Whether it was based on their time together in the Thorn Dungeons or because their homeland was the same, he couldn't say. But at this point, Eric could tell Jaspen cared about as much for him as he did for Mona. How many persons would request favors for friends of friends? Few would do that for strangers.

Seeing the hopeful gaze of the blacksmith, Eric nodded. "Sure. Have some of my men bring them to the medical tents for further healing." Eric pointed towards a few figures to come his way, giving them commands to follow Jaspen's will. The trio of soldiers agreed, quickly appearing before the blacksmith.

After continuing his walk for a short moment, Eric turned around and spoke.

"Oh yes. Have that Mona Aurum come as well. I'd like to speak with him personally." Eric gave a brief smile before making his way to his tent. His steps left light prints in the sandy floor.

Why does young master Faulkner want to see young noble Aurum? Jaspen tried to find a reason, but he wasn't able to beyond possibly the Faulkner family wanting to own something the royal family of Alberdos also wanted. That was the only explanation Jaspen could rationalize.

Jaspen walked towards Mona, who was watching the whole situation. Mona didn't budge when his friends were taken to the tents, instead feeling a bit relieved. At least they can get the help they need. He watched as Jaspen came towards him, relaying the desires of the young master of the Faulkner family.

I wonder what we'll converse over. Mona had very little information he could give to the young master of the Faulkner family. Much of his knowledge was general, or could be found in a dedicated library. His talents were "mediocre" in Aura compared to the average of someone else his age, even in the former Leafwind Kingdom. Seems the only way to find out is to go and speak.

Ardor watched from the distance, his thoughts complex. Gryfor had reduced his gains for nothing. He understood that he and Gryfor were alike in one way: if they had a goal, they had to attain it. Ardor couldn't make sense of why Gryfor did such a thing near the end of the Arena. His actions left him no route to evade punishment by not only the Faulkner family's young master, but also the Alberdan Army's Judicial Council.

Will I be tracked back to? No. I shouldn't be. Ardor watched as Mona and Jaspen walked towards the tents set up by the Faulkner caravan. He remembered how he treated the two of them in the dungeons and above ground, his hopes shattering. Why did I not think of this? Why?

The moon cast its beams on the faces of all present. It rose long ago, having completed most of its journey across the sky. Many of the prisoners beyond Mona's group and Jaspen were guided back to their cells by guards unsure of their fates. How easy it would be for them to die for doing nothing. Nothing to save Mithal and the others. Nothing to save Jaspen at the time of his injuries. Nothing to aid Mona near the end of Gryfor's rampage.

How deeply they regretted this, only they knew.