The sun rose on the city of Morosbo, many of its citizens already striding through the streets. In a small courtyard belonging to the Faulkner manor, a young man continued to swiftly paint on a canvas, his eyes focused on his subject. The smile that covered his face was no more, replaced by a look of concentration complemented with tired eyes.

The patio, once clean, had several marks left from dried paint on its wooden surface. To one of the walls next to the door, several canvas leaned against the walls, canvas Mona had already painted on. The painting of the Scorched Sunshine flower stood closest to the door, as if Mona wanted to take that piece of art inside with him first.

Just a few more strokes, and this will be done. Mona found his arm had grown sore throughout the night, but he did not give into to the temptations of rest and sleep. Although he hadn't felt any approaching enlightenment, he had instead felt a deeper resonance form between him and his Lunar Tattoo. In other words, the more he had painted the stronger he felt a wave of calm clothe his body after completing a painting.

He didn't understand why he felt all his fatigue wash away only after completing a painting, but he didn't take time to think of this. Instead, he continued to experiment with this beautiful feeling, eventually reaching the point deep inside he felt a sense of inner calm. His grief, his emotions of losing his close friends and family had largely disappeared, leaving him with only the desire to find the cause of their deaths. In the process of painting his thoughts became more level headed, less guided by the emotions that had once raged inside of his heart, his mind now revealing a great clarity.

Not only that, Mona felt as if his body was increasing in a different form of strength. Although he had at one point used his Aura to examine his body for the cause, he didn't find any strange forms of energy. Instead, he came up with the conclusion he had not grown stronger to the point he could detect it. He also felt something else, something that brought him joy inside.

Throughout several days Mona would train in Aura, amassing more and more red strands of Aura. During the night he would paint, exploring the link between each stroke of the brush and his Lunar Tattoo. At the moment, he had built up about 436 red strands of Aura, all of them swimming in the region of his Aura Core. During the single day Mona examined his body thoroughly, he saw something he couldn't quite believe in the 9th blockage of the Mortal Curse.

Before for several days, Mona had bombarded the blockage in his right hand with heavy force, not showing a single scratch. However after so many days of painting, he found that the same barrier now revealed several cracks that he hadn't seen before. Connecting the dots, Mona felt a tinge of happiness as he saw the fruits of painting.

Not only does my talent in Painting grow, my talent in Aura manipulation also grows. Only Mona understood how difficult it was to spend the last few days to persevere and make new strands of red Aura. To assault the blockage in his right hand with all his effort, only to fail time and time again. At the moment he was painting, hoping that by painting pieces an entire night could result in his clogged ninth meridian being cleared.

Right now, he was painting the plateau of reddish rock that stood beside the Faulkner manor here in Morosbo. He had spent a few hours memorizing as many details he could during the day and at his patio throughout the night recreate those details with each stroke. This was Mona's fourth batch of oil paints and second set of brushes.

I need to make the shadows more distinct. Mona washed his brush in the small jar filled with water, then dipped his brush in the black oil paint. With careful precision, he used the tip of his smaller brush to add the shading to the rock formation.

Back inside Mona's bedroom, a light and careful knock came at his room's door. Mona was not available to reply as a figure spoke through the door. A few more knocks were heard before silence returned to the room. Outside, the sounds of footsteps could be heard leaving this section of the manor.

Mona dipped his painting in red, using it to improve one of the weaker regions of the plateau. The land of Morosbo was largely a hilly landscape with reddish soil, as well as the single plateau of reddish brown rock standing high. The area was the handiwork of a disciple under the Great Wizard Madrag, and Mona was trying to capture the essence of such a figure in his work.

Mona proceeded to the finishing touches, adding a sense of distance to the clouds of the sky. The sun that day was nestled between three separate puffs of white and gray. When the final dab of ink was placed in the oil painting, Mona placed his brush in the jar of water and took a step back to look at the painting he had made.

The large plateau of Morosbo had several fractures, with a surface carved from wind and rain for eons. The surrounding land had become slowly fertile for agriculture, and Mona took note of this as well. The manor of Eric Faulkner was visible in the painting, as well as the farm fields of many citizens in the distance. Mona took advantage of perspective, drawing as if the viewer was the size of a single Scorched Sunshine looking upon the world.

"Amazing. I didn't know you were this talented."

Mona shook a little before turning around. His hands were messy from painting and smudging his artworks, his clothing very needy of cleaning. Mona looked at the clean figure of Athon, standing there as he looked at Mona's painting of the Scorched Sunshine.

"This is very detailed. You were even able to differentiate the stamens." Athon praised Mona's oil paintings, looking at each one. To the right of the patio door stood three paintings Mona had made. They were the Scorched Sunshine painting, an oil painting of a sunrise, and a painting of the city of Morosbo, all in order of how close the canvasses were to the patio door.

The left wall had a large painting with three times the width of a normal painting. This large canvas was a self portrait, from Mona's feet to his head. If one looked at it clearly, they could see Mona had taken very careful steps to detail his own eyes with a trace of his aloofness.

Athon seemed to enjoy seeing Mona's hard labor as he continued to comment on each.

"This is the Continental Federation Union branch, no?"

"I see. The shade for this sunrise is life like."

"Your auto-portrait is stunning, to say the least."

Mona watched as Athon walked with the air of an art curator, commenting on his pieces as if they were to go into a museum.

"How did you enter?" Mona looked at Athon after rubbing his eyes. He didn't remember seeing Athon.

"I had come earlier. You didn't reply after three visits, so I thought the worst had occurred and got a key to the room. Little did I know that I was about to see all of this." Athon emphasized the end of the last sentence before looking back to the oil paintings created by Mona.

"The amazing bit here is your supplies are rather low quality. Yet you can create so much with mediocre oil paint."

"It's not the best, actually. If you pay careful attention, there are flaws in many of the paintings. Other than the starry sky back inside, many of the paintings here have more obvious problems in form." Mona explained the faults he had found in his own work. He understood that if he could fix them he could make work of a Saint ranked Painter.

Is he trying to be modest? Or is he clear-minded? Athon wasn't sure what Mona really meant with his words. A thought entered his mind.

"Why don't you get a master?"

"A master in painting?"

"Yes, from the Artisan's Gala Hall. All you would have to do is submit a few of your paintings there."

"Surely with a description for each submission, facts of what you used to make them, and a word from Eric you can easily get a mentor. All the problems with your paintings could be mended, and you would be able to build valuable connections."

"Athon, no need. I am not looking for a master at the moment." Mona tactfully refused the offer, maintaining a tone of respect as he began to pack up his supplies.

Athon began to help Mona take his paintings into the room. "But why? With a master you could do so much." Athon truly believed that although Mona's talent was average at the moment, the young painter could excel with careful attention. Also Mona would be able to get higher grade supplies, and could also earn money through commissions.

"No, Athon. I'm certain." Mona didn't want a master. Although he understood his chances were quite good at satisfying the basic requirements to enter the Artisan's Gala Hall, he didn't like the idea of studying in such a manner. He preferred learning to paint at his own pace, and felt that he would eventually get better over time by painting more. If he did need guidance, he could refer to specialized books on the subject in the future. As for building a connection with the Artisan's Gala Hall, Mona had already planned to do that sometime in the near future.

"Alright. But I am going to be taking this painting. I'm sure that Eric would like to see it." Athon made his way out of the bedroom with Lucid Night. Mona didn't fret over losing it, his thoughts more on hanging the paintings up.

After a few attempts, Mona managed to place each painting on a wall, looking at his room. His bedroom improved considerably with each painting, making his chambers seem to be of a higher quality. In the lower right corner of each painting Mona signed his name in black or white oil paint, the sharp contrast standing out among his pieces of art.

"I can feel it. I'm close to making paintings of the Saint rank." Mona muttered quietly to himself, looking at the painting of the Eshwin manor. His heart felt connected to this painting of his home. Next time, perhaps I should paint our family. Mona believed that he should complete an artwork on all of them next.

Time to check if I was right. Mona returned to his bed, sitting down in the lotus position. Closing his eyes, he began chanting the Primal Fold Technique, his body reacting again with each verse. Inside his body, Mona's consciousness roamed around and looked towards the 9th blockage in his right hand.

A bit of happiness filled Mona's eyes as he saw the 9th blockage. It had many more fractures than before, and seemed like with a careful and firm forcing of Aura it would fall apart. With Mona chanting the Primal Fold Technique, vaporous Aura entered the room and later was refined by the Bubble into Aura of increasingly higher grades.

Finally, an additional red strand of Aura swam inside of his Aura Core. After accumulating so many red strands, it no longer seemed special. When Mona looked at his Aura Core region, he could no longer see the glow of his core without focusing on it.

Strand after strand of red Aura was formed, the total now reaching 245 red strands of Aura. Mona decided to guide this total amount at his 9th blockage, using his consciousness to guide all of it into his right hand. From there he guided it to his Aura meridian and slammed it into the obstacle between him and becoming an Aura Mortal Level 9.

All the red strands of Aura rebounded, bouncing off the broken wall. Mona felt his hope dwindle as the 245 red strands of Aura return to his Aura Core region. He continued chanting the Primal Fold Technique, a tinge of sweat covering his body.

The noon sun entered into the room, casting shadows all over. Mona felt two thin lines of sweat run from his temples down his neck. His body was covered in small droplets all over, his breathing slowly growing heavy. Mona kept his eyes closed as he mad the 250th strand of red Aura.

One quarter of the way to the next grade. The first Aura rank was pure and white, the second was translucent and red. If Mona amassed the required 1000 strands of red Aura, the next form would come to be. But Mona didn't want to wait that long. Only if the blockage took that much Aura to break apart would he go so far.

The droplets of sweat that ran down Mona's body were the size of raindrops, drenching his upper torso. Clear signs of muscle became distinguishable, as if Mona had trained his body for several years, hiding his fragility from before. His face shone with concentration as he chanted another verse of the Primal Fold Technique.

Mona felt that each time he chanted the Primal Fold Technique, the Aura that entered his body and formed into strands grew slightly faster. It was difficult to tell, but because each of the 1000 strands formed faster, the minute changes added up to the point Mona could notice it.

My experience with the Primal Fold Technique is growing. Mona kept a calm mind as he reassessed the blockage in his right hand. Just how many strands will it take?

Mona opened his eyes, turning his head to see the sun starting to descent. A knock came at his door, a voice from the opposite side asking for Mona to take his meal. Mona calmly used his Aura to line his body, calmly lifting the sweat off his skin. He wore his clothing, accepted his meal tray and thanked the servant before preparing to eat.

"Is this a Pyre Bun?" Mona looked at the small bun in his hands. He had received three of them with a glass of water. All three of them had a reddish cross on both sides of its fluffy exterior. Mona bit into the bun, expecting something to result beyond the sweet taste of fresh bread.

Deep inside his Aura Core region, Mona could feel as Aura entered his body much more quickly. If his earlier method of practicing with the technique was comparable to a stream, then his current absorption without the technique was comparable to a tidal wave. I see why Athon prefer these buns now.

Taking the plate with him, Mona consumed the remainder of his bun, then began to meditate once more. He practiced the Primal Fold Technique, the Aura entering him heavily. In half the time he had created three red strands of Aura, each glimmering with the rest.

Mona continued in this method until the effect started to dwindle. Seeing this, he consumed another of the Pyre Buns before resuming his training. Inwardly he agreed that whenever he trained he too would keep Pyre Buns beside him. To the current Mona, their effect was simply too precious to his training.

When the effect dwindled for the third time, Mona had managed to create his 300th strand of red Aura. He looked at the 300 strands, using his consciousness to merge all of these strands into a long rope. The rope coiled around his Aura Core region, pristine in its crimson hue.

Preparing himself, Mona guided the red Aura towards the ninth blockage once more. Drops the size of beans ran down his body with fury. His breath became visible and ragged, a steamy white vapor that resembled Aura. With his mind, Mona used the red Aura to assault the blockage.

The large strand of red Aura disappeared into the Mortal Blockage. After a moment, the blockage featured more cracks before breaking into ash. The ash was quickly sent into the Bubble treasure, the Aura Flame devouring it to regain some of its crimson embers.

Mona practiced the Primal Fold Technique once more, channeling strand upon strand of Aura through his nine meridians before adding it to his Aura Core. His core glowed with a heavy light from the condensed Aura, Mona hearing a slight pop in his ears. With the sound came a heavy discharge from Mona's skin, the filth of mortality once again cleaned from his body.

Mona looked at his arm, the grime almost caked on his flesh. Every of his small movements produced cracking sounds, the harmony of his body reforming into a firmer and strong form. The power he felt was as if he could break the plateau of Morosbo with only ten attacks, each strike filled with a formidable pressure.

What, what is this? Mona felt the familiar sense of weakness in his body, except to an extreme. The formidable energy was replaced with a heavy tiredness, as if he would die if he did not rest that moment. The feeling of fatigue and exhaustion filled Mona's body, slackening his breath and slowing his heartbeat. His thoughts took longer to occur, each one growing increasingly worried.

An urge to faint filled Mona's body as he fell backwards on the bed, his vision going dark. His breathing completely stopped as a strange feeling rose from his body. He coughed gravely, before blood started to come out with each, dribbling down his cheek.

His vision returning, Mona was unable to breathe without difficulty. His pulse was weak, almost on the verge of disappearing into oblivion. Paralysis had struck his body, his limbs no longer reliable. The feeling of his blood dripping down his face told Mona something was off.

Mona used his consciousness to urge his Aura to cycle through his body, healing internal bleeding and damaged tissue strewn all over. Although he was an Aura Mortal level 9 now, Mona felt as if he was back to his frail body, fighting off a terrible fever. His heartbeat was unstable, his breathing intermittent.

Mona could only move his eyes, able to tell from the shadows that it was becoming sunset. Blood stopped coming from his mouth, the taste still fresh on his tongue. I just coughed up blood.

Mona was inwardly on alert, watching if his situation would worsen. His life was not guaranteed to continue on, and from how his internal organs were shifted it would take some time before he could sit in bed.

What was it? Mona looked into his body, going back to the source of weakness originating from his Aura Core. He examined the Core thoroughly, desiring a reason for his near death experience. Sadly all he could tell was his Core was empty of Aura, as he was using it to heal his wounds.

If Mona could see himself right now, he would realize how complicated his health had become. His body was not only swollen with a reddish tint, the grime from earlier was still on his body, in contact with fresh bleeding wounds. The blood that came from within him had stained the bed, his hair in great disarray. The pain of it all was likely being hidden by the adrenaline that was exploding through Mona's body, protecting him from the terrible sensations of being pierced with innumerable stinging needles.

Mona watched as his organs were set back in his place, the Aura from his core slowly stabilizing his body. His swollen limbs slowly returned to normal, now a shade of pink throughout his body. He could feel his fingers, barely able to make a fist with each hand.

When Mona could finally raise his body into a sitting position, it was already long into the night. He cautiously chanted the Primal Fold Technique, unsure of whether his situation could worsen through channeling the technique. He remained focused on his situation, using the condensed Aura to accelerate the healing.

Sometime after another knock came at Mona's door. Mona made no effort to answer, keeping his attention on returning his body to normal. The knock came three times but soon left, leaving Mona in the dimly lit room. The light of the moon was hidden behind layers of clouds, living Mona in essentially darkness.

That feeling was just like before. Mona understood that the feeling had returned, only now he had felt a heavier effect. Now he no longer felt the need to rest, the Aura channeled in his body returning his body to its original form. His skin no longer was swollen, his skin its original complexion.

Mona used his right arm, feeling the stain of blood still left on his cheek. He wasn't sure how much blood he had lost through this affair, but knew that for the most part he was heavily exhausted, physically and mentally. The weakness he felt had no clear source and was one step away from ending his life.

Thinking about what would happen if he tried to become an Aura Mortal Level 10, Mona chose to not attempt advancing to the next level until he understood what was the cause of that weakness he felt.

It came from my Aura Core, but when I checked there was nothing. Mona furrowed his brow as he made his way to the bathroom. His clothing was soiled in blood, sweat and dirt and he needed to take a bath in the basin.

Upon his exit, Mona lit the candles of the room, seeing the stains he had left on the bed sheets from his advancement. Mona walked outside to the patio, sitting down in the lotus position. He chanted the Primal Fold Technique, filling his empty Aura Core with the natural Aura of the world after purifying it with his Bubble treasure.

"Not only do I not know why I collapsed, I also do not know of what the cost is for this Bubble to refine." A few creases appeared on Mona's brow as he tallied all he had to find out. His memory drifted to his first appearance in Morosbo. Back then, Mona was shown the buildings of the manor, including the Doctor's Den.

"Athon told me there is a doctor here. I need to ask him to examine me with Medical Arts. Even if the chances are slim, it might mean the causes and potentially the cure of what ails me are known." Looking into the sky, Mona watched as thicker clouds covered the moon. Its rays of light could not pierce through the opaque wall of grey and white.

The Heavens are vast. There must be a cure. Mona had to find a cure to what caused him to fall apart after ascending to an Aura Mortal level 9. If he couldn't find a solution, it meant he would be forever trapped at that level. Mona didn't know if he would live if he tried.

Thinking back to painting, Mona recalled that by painting he had largely dismantled the blockage of his Aura meridian in his right hand. Was my nights of oil painting the cause of why the weakness was more severe? No, it shouldn't be. The sense of weakness came since before he had begun painting. At most it was effective against the Mortal Curse. Unless he was certain Mona wasn't willing to give up his painting sessions that eased his heart.

Mona entered and returned from the room, bringing a blank canvas and the table. Upon the patio, Mona reformed his easel, his workstation to paint another work of art.

"What to paint?" Painting for Mona eased not only his heart, but also helped him feel a sense of clarity, as if the haziness of life melted away with each stroke. Oh right, I need to paint them.

Mona dipped the smallest brush he had in the black paint, forming four continuous shapes on the canvas. He thought back to the last time he saw each of his family alive and well.

Mother was outside in the gardens, admiring the few Scorched Sunshines we had. I was 13 when she died from being ill.

Sister was inside in Father's study, contemplating her life beyond Eshwin. I was 14 when she passed away for the same reason as Mother.

Father was with me in the Eshwin manor's grand hall. It was my rite of passage. I was only 16 when he died, protecting me before himself.

A stream of tears ran down Mona's face as he steadily painted each member of his family during the prime of their lives. He painted his own portrait of when he was young, the eyes he gave himself revealing the naivety and spirit he once had as a child. It's been only 6 weeks since that day, but he could still remember the last sight he had of his father as Oscar pulled him and Valence out to what they thought was safety.

Looking into the distance, Mona sighed from deep inside his heart. He thought back to the aging fellow who had taught him many a custom among nobility. Oscar. Where are you?

Mona didn't know if Oscar was still alive.