Chapter 10

Mona kept reading the book. It was tough at first. Most of the writing was starting to wear away from old age, and there was plenty of stains on each of the pages. Whoever had the book last left quite a mess in it. But what he could read felt rather straightforward.

The Onas Empire, an empire of myths that existed long before the Faulkners, and the warring period that occurred between, had seen a better era than their current. The people of the time wasted their fortunes, leading to their current state. Everything was better back then, but it was all temporary. From its fall came hundreds of competing smaller nations, leading the continent carrying its namesake into ruin over and over, until groups like the Steel Kingdom and Faulkner Empire began gathering up the smaller pieces. And now Faulkner was chasing after that old legacy too. Peace was too boring for those bastards.

But while Mona kept reading the book, he could feel something. His Aura Heart was reacting to something. He didn't know what, so he kept reading. Unfortunately, at this point, he reached the end of his book. The last part described a man shouting a word, Armageddon, and the capital of Onas and its surrounding hills were burned to ashes. Not a scrap of a soul was left. And at reading this, his Aura Heart stirred. When he focused back on his Aura, he could sense a wisp returning to his Heart.

"I was so focused on reading, I didn't notice it."

Mona blamed himself. If was giving more attention he definitely would have seen what was goin on inside his body. Before he got the chance, he could see Cross peering down on him with a frown.

"What are you doing?"

The man's voice was gruff as ever.

"I was reading."

Mona held up the book on his hands, the crossed out lettering entering the guard's eyes.

"You were supposed to look for a method. Save the history lesson for later."

Cross shook his head, cursing under his breath. He made his way through the library.

By now it was already late in the afternoon. Maget was making his final strides against the sky, and Mona realized the time. Was he reading that single history book for so long? But he just opened it a moment ago.

Cross came back to him, a sturdy book in his hands.

"Basic Fighting Methods. Here, learn this in your spare time. Let's go."

Cross made his way back to the library stairwell, expecting Mona to follow.

He doesn't seem to be that horrible, Mona thought. Cross didn't make Mona return the book on Ona's history, and so the young noble was able to take two books with him.

The two quickly went down the stairs, passing by the folks still indecisive on the first floor. The guards there were carrying annoyed looks. A few took a glance at Mona and Cross, before making up their minds to drag their charges with them. It seemed Mona wasn't the only prisoner receiving "special treatment" here. Only thing is, he never saw the other prisoners he saw glances of as he went past this floor. Were they kept in a separate wing? Maybe.

Mindful not to touch the dust on the railing, the guard and his special charge left the library. The old librarian wasn't visible, probably taking care of something elsewhere. Cross didn't talk to Mona at all, much like before, and the two made their way through stone passageways. Someone swept the floor recently; the stone was slightly shinier and free of debris.

At last, Mona's prison room had come at last, and Cross already opened the door up with his key. He waited a few steps back for Mona to go in, and shut it immediately after. Right as Mona was going to settle down and get ready to call it a day, he heard Cross's voice.

"Familiarize yourself with the Methods book. There's a special event tomorrow."

Then followed Cross's steps as he left.

"A special event? What could that be?"

Mona took a moment to think of everything that happened so far. He looked at the methods manual he received.

"I guess we'll be fighting each other soon. I wonder what the prize will be? Fresh food?"

Mona was getting sick of the leftover gruel, whatever that soupy gunk was, entering his body. His meals at the Aurum estate were heaven compared to this.

"But I'm curious. Why did my Aura..."

He put the Methods book to the side. Sure, he could take his time learning it. But it didn't bother him as much as his Aura acting on his own. This history book, was that all it was?

Mona looked back at the history book. The summary of Ona's history was fairly detailed, but nothing he wasn't completely unfamiliar with. So why was the author's name scratched out? And why did his Aura move without his knowledge?

He opened the book, and began to read it again. The room, his prison cell, took on Heron's hues, making it harder to read.

This time he kept his focus on his Aura heart, waiting to notice any changes. For the first few hours of reading, he couldn't feel a thing. It was only when he began to read the final chapter he noticed it.

A tiny wisp of Aura, it made itself away from the others in his Aura Heart, and began to travel an unfamiliar path. When Mona stopped reading though, it immediately returned back to his core. Displeased, he returned to reading the final chapter, maintaining just enough focus to keep his mind on the wisp of Aura.

The path wasn't something he knew of. But that was obvious, he never had a teacher in Aura. But something in his gut told him that no one would be familiar with this path.

The wisp of Aura seemed to pool near his heart for a while, then travelled up his arteries to his arms, before taking a time to reside in his ribcage, on his upper left side in particular, before eventually returning to his Aura Heart when he muttered the word "Armageddon." In that moment, Mona could feel something. A tenseness in his arms, a warm sensation accompanying it.

What was this?

He tried to mimic the Aura from before, guiding it along his body's meridians, but it didn't go well. The wisp wasn't listening to him, and struggled to follow the path laid out in front of him. He sighed.

"Why was this going so much easier with the book, but I can't do it on my own?"

He rubbed his face, and cast the thought aside. At this point, it didn't matter why. Just what. What was this? Why was his Aura moving?

He began to read strictly the final chapter. He watched his Aura follow the invisible path, dancing along his meridians as it went from his heart to his arms to his rib and back again. He did this over and over, and sure enough he memorized the entire passage. After reading the small chapter hundreds of times, he didn't need to hold the book open; just reciting the verses led his Aura wisps to cycle throughout his body. However, he still kept the book open and read it. He tried reciting without the book for a while, and noticed the speed of his Aura cut down by half. He couldn't handle such a loss and kept reciting.

Finally, Mona was able to notice a change. It was small, barely recognizable, but still there. His muscles were giving off a strange sense of heat. His palms sweated slightly whenever he recited the passages, and his ribcage, specifically his first rib on the left, seemed to glow a slight reddish hue. Once he finished reciting in his mind, there was a small burst of energy that quickly dissipated after, and a slight sizzling noise could be heard from his palms. In a panic, he looked at his hands, and noticed that they were were rather dry. The sweat was dried away by the heat he felt earlier.

"Huh?"

Mona was confused. Was this a method? What kind of method warms up your hands? What a lousy method!

He felt like an idiot. Was this some kind of Lifestyle method. There were numerous methods out there, as countless as the stars in the night sky, and several helped those with Aura live easier lives. This "Palm Warming" method must be one of them. He looked at the moons in the night sky, defeated. Why did he waste so much time?

"Wait, wait, I didn't waste time. I got this method from a history textbook. The book is old, and stained, and no one seemed to have read it in years. Why did my Aura react to these passages in the first place? Who would hide a method this simple in a historical record? There has to be something else. There has to be."

Mona tried to reassure himself, trying to find value in wasting the greater half of his night on this unknown method. He looked back to the changes in his body, questioning whether this would help or hurt him.

At last, he gave up and sighed. It was still to early to say. He didn't want to believe it, but he was better off spending that time cultivating his Aura. He turned to the cultivation technique, spending some time to go over that as well. The fruits of his labor made themselves clear; he was squarely in the early stage now.

The little wisps of Aura seemed to dance joyously with their new friends. Mona even felt a hidden benefit; his body didn't seem to be as frail as before. With his meridians charging up his Aura, the rest of his flesh had gained a minor bonus as well. His skin took on a healthier color compared to his more pale complexion from months prior.

He looked outside, using the movements of Alphi and Zephyr as a means to track time.

"Good, the night is not yet over."

He moved to the final book, but then felt something he was trying to avoid very much. But at last, Nature would not leave him alone. He got up, stacking the books as quickly as he could, and thinking ahead he took the bucket to the far corner of the room. It was small, but maybe this would help reduce some of the aftereffects of what he had to do.

Once his stomach settled, Mona got up, and did his best to make do in his situation. Too bad the room was small, and the wind from the outside was blowing in, creating a cycle of air in the room. He was going to vomit just smelling it.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Mona began to curse in his mind, tightening his resolve to get out of this prison and somewhere he didn't have to remember what he had for lunch. He did his best to clear his mind, then pulled out the last manual.

"Basic Fighting Methods."

The book was brief, and straight to the point. It showed a few positions a bare handed fighter could hold, how to repeat them in four steps. A punch, a block, a jab, among other standard fighting moves. In fact, it was lacking, because it didn't say how to connect the moves besides "real combat."

"I know I have a noble favoring me, but are they actively trying to keep me down?"

Mona didn't understand what was the point of getting this cheap method. Surely that cross headed guard had instructions to take care of him. Did that noble want him to stay weak and defenseless? He shuddered at the thought of what that old noblewoman might want with him.

He gave it a decent amount of effort, mimicking the techniques as written in the book. His stance was shoddy, and his form was uneven, but what could he do in these circumstances? After he felt like he could hold up fairly well, so that if he had to fight later on, it would look like he tried to learn them and keep the prison staff satisfied with his "performance."

With what little time remained until the next day would begin, Mona couldn't help but return to the history textbook. There was something there, something. He just didn't know what. This Palm Warming method, he named it, had to do something besides help him feel slightly less chilly in the mountain range. He used the last bits of his time to circulate his Aura per the manual, making minimal progress. His tendons felt slightly tense in his arms, but not much else happened.

Eventually he heard a knock on his door, followed by a few knocks. Cross had arrived at the turn of Golron's arrival.

"Get up."

The guard with a permanently crossed set of eyebrows opened the door and walked in. It seemed like he didn't notice the smell. Or maybe he was just focus on Mona.

"Let's go to the event."

"The event has been shifted forwards by a few days. There was a disturbance last night, and so we are sorting it out."

"Disturbance?"

"You don't need to know. Follow me to the mess hall."

Mona got up, straightened his prison clothes as before, and followed Cross out of the door. He didn't give a name for Mona to use today either, but Mona had gotten used to calling him Cross in his head so he didn't mind.

"I have a question."

Mona had an idea come into his head.

Cross, after locking the cell Mona came from, looked back at the assumed merchant, an extra layer of annoyance on his face compared to usual.

"What is it? Let it out."

"Do we have any more of those history books I could borrow?"

Cross took a moment to look back at the cell, remembering the book he let Mona pick up and take with the method manual. He turned back to Mona.

"Why?"

"Well... I was wondering if there's any more that follows after the book's end. The history of Onas is rather fascinating."

Cross sighed rather heavily.

"Even if there was, there's no point. The history books don't help you train. And you only get one chance at the library."

Realizing he was taking longer on this duty of his compared to normal, he ended the conversation.

"That's enough. To the mess hall."

Mona followed after Cross, much like the day before. They went up and down stairs, and past corridors. But it was strange. Their paths each day were different than the last. It was like the prison was alive. But Mona knew he couldn't ask anything about it; who would give him an honest answer? The other captives? Or these eagle heads?

For these few days, Mona ate quietly in his corner of the mess hall. Or rather, the corner that seemed to have the least action each day based on the day before. He hoped that would keep trouble away. But he hoped for too much. One of the days, a flying bowl came and landed on his table, and the three thugs fighting over that yellow slime bowl came running over to get that food. He got up early with his bowl, hastily making away from the crowd fighting where he was last.

Was that another perk that woman got him? Unlimited helpings of food? Mona looked at the gaunt frames of the other prisoners, and realized that if it wasn't for the guards, all these extra privileges he was enjoying would have gotten him in serious trouble. He became aware of the cause behind the stares that always lingered on his shoulders whenever he got up for seconds. From the second day forth, he ate his fill quickly, then actively began searching for Cross, much to the guard's chagrin.

At night, he would practice his cultivation, the method book of basic moves, and finish off with the history text. His Aura was now past the midway point of the early stage as an Aura Novice, and he was in the middle stage. The Aura Heart was halfway full of wisps, and based on what he could tell during their mess breaks, he was fairly average in terms of Aura. He didn't yet know what his element was, but he hoped to find out soon.

His poses with the methods got better. At the very least, he didn't look like he just started learning these basics the night before. There was much to improve, but given his situation the only way to make any meaningful progress would be actually fighting? Would anyone take him own seriously? With that noblewoman behind the scenes, Mona couldn't be sure.

Lastly, or that Warming Palm method, was also changing. He could feel it, the tiny changes in his body. That part of his ribcage was taking on a reddish orange color. His muscles seemed to respond quicker now. And his palms seemed to generate heat. Shockingly, the heat could be felt even an inch from his palms surface.

"So I can't just warm my hands, I can warm other hands too. Great, just great."

Mona laughed bitterly. He wasn't getting much utility from all the time he was spending on this method, and he wasn't sure what he was training. Following his gut had led him to this point. He would die before he got the chance to find out what this method does.

*****

The three days passed quickly. With all his training, Mona was halfway through the Novice stage, and was thinking about what the Fighter stage would be like. Maybe he would have better information on what his Aura element was then? He could only hope.

Cross, much like before, came knocking on his door. Mona made sure to shower the night before, using another chunk of his soap brick to at least stay presentable. He wasn't confident it was keeping him clean. Or his clothes for that matter; he was using the soap as a cleaning solution for his old clothing. They didn't give any answer for laundering when he asked the day before.

"The event is here at last. Let's get going."

"When will the supplies get redistributed?"

"What, did you make a mess?"

Cross sneered, looking at the strewn buckets and soap brick in distaste. He was going to take a sniff of the room, but stopped at the last moment.

Cross turned around.

"After the event, the supplies will be refreshed. I'll let them know. Hurry up!"

He left the cell, Mona following behind. The food wasn't going well in his stomach, but at least the smell would be temporarily reduced, bringing him a sense of ease. If only they had given him a chamber pot to use, with a lid to match, that would be perfect. Mona couldn't expect such luxuries here.

Their steps brought them back to the main hall. It was repurposed often, and now the stage from before was long cleared. The afternoon sun was coming in with the morning sun leaving, a nice blend of the two painting the large room in sunlight. Not far away, Mona could see the General Rigar, seated among his men, on the other side of the room. They were going over a few things, and chuckling over some topic. In front of Mona, he could see the crowds of prisoners, some better off than others, some barely alive compared to others. The frequent fights in the mess hall was starting to show in the health of those prisoners.

And it was clear the Faulkners didn't care. None of the victims received any aid, their welts and bruises visible for all to see. Mona felt his jaw get tense at some of the sights. If there were dead captives, would he even know? He remembered hearing about the incident from a few days ago. The number of captives seemed to be somewhat lacking, even though more were still arriving.

The guards of the prison simply stood at the side, waiting for their warden begin the event. Cross had long joined them, and returned to a familiar pair of guards. Mona didn't know them by name, but given how Cross always took the chance to go talk to them, he thought they seem quite close, perhaps friends.

Finally the General Rigar got up from his seat, releasing his Aura at full blast, the Master strength adding a heaviness to everyone present. Whatever conversations were still going on ceased, and so did the breathing of some of the prisoners. A few of them were taken out in that hit alone.

"Worthless insects."

Rigar shook his head in disdain, then pointed at a few of the guards to carry the fallen prisoners elsewhere. The corpses of these men were taken away, the last glimmer of reuniting with family snuffed out just like that.

"Consider that a warm-up. If you can't even handle a second of my Aura, the empire doesn't need you to pollute our numbers."

He took a sweeping gaze of the captives.

"Anyone else would like to join them, feel free to move forward now."

No one moved from where they were standing, and simply stood there.

"You'll regret not taking that chance."

Rigar chuckled, gesturing for the guards to join in. A few tried half-heartedly, but it made the air awkward.

"Enough."

Rigar lowered his hands, quieting the cheap flattery of the few who tried.

"Today, we will begin testing the Aura quality of you lot daily to see whether you are qualified to move up in value to his imperial majesty. You will be sorted into groups based on today, and later have you sorted further through Trials to test your overall competencies. Wouldn't it be unfortunate if a gem was to find itself in trash? Hence you have gained the opportunity to become more than war captives. Be grateful."

"You all should have received a cultivation technique and method to help you fight. While martial skills aren't where all of you will go..."

Rigar took another sweep of the audience. Mona felt like he was singled out in that glance for a second. A few others reacted similar to him.

"...It wouldn't hurt for your masters if your value were to increase. Maybe you can get better treatment when you arrive? Work hard for it; I've already received their approval. They'll be watching the event through the Seer Crystal above."

Rigar pointing up, and Mona like the others began to look at a large, nearly translucent mirror hanging in the air, as if levitating. The outer rim of the mirror was etched in runes too tiny for him to recognize. The surface of the mirror seemed hazy, and from one moment to the next he could see the blurry features of the alleged masters watching the event. He could only make out a few women, several men, an old man, a pair of twin brothers, and a rather young child before the blurriness shifted back to the first person. Because of the blur, he couldn't see explicit details, beyond the extravagance of their backgrounds in the mirror. Nobles, they were nobles alright, watching to see their future playthings rip each other apart with glee all over their faces.

"Now now, don't worry. You'll join them soon. But first, come up to the center of the stage and begin fighting as you are called. Don't pull punches. If someone gets injured to the point of death, don't mind. We have staff to keep them alive if the nobles would like it."

Of course, Rigar left out the obvious. If the nobles didn't fancy the fallen, they'd be sent wherever the first few had disappeared among the dead. After the general posing as a warden cleared his throat, he pointed at two men to come forward.

One was tall and thin like a piece of straw. The other was a tad more built, a healthy sheen to his skin. But neither looked like practiced fighters. Likely farmhands, the two made mad dashes at each other in full speed, squandering their limited stamina. What followed were hisses and shouts, as the two shouted out random method names, hoping that doing so would carry the strength of those attacks.

"Flying Feather Punch! Ugh."

"Sweeping Claw Kick! Oof."

They quickly made fools of themselves. Their attacks barely landed on each other, and when they did it was never intentional, so the attacks never damaged each other. From the side, Mona couldn't tell if they planned this, or were really that terrible. The two couldn't even handle throwing a jab at the other, and soon enough, the two collapsed in exhaustion. They struggled to get up after, trying to resume fighting.

Mona saw something from the top of his eyes. Looking up, he could see the nobles displeased. Disgust was on their faces, and almost to match, so did Rigar carry disgust on his. With a release of Aura, he uttered quietly.

"Earth Dragon's Stride."

The two struggling combatants were crushed. Pancaked. In place. They were squeezed to the infinite, from their bones, to their guts, to their skin. Their body fluids and substances leaked out after, a mix of blood and anything else pooling around their wafer shaped corpses.

"Unacceptable. You, you, and you. Come clean this mess."

A few guards came to the plates of what were originally humans, lifted them up and away. A Water aura guard with visible nausea used their control over water to pool the fluids and carry off, following the two others. The three of them soon left, the door making a thump that broke everyone from their shock.

"And as for you trash... I put in a great deal of effort to give you a chance to shine, and this is how you repay me? Do you not value your pathetic lives? Come up here and humiliate me again, and I will make sure you beg for death before I am done with you."

The general pointed to two more prisoners to come forth. When they hesitated too long, they were pancaked as well. The two screamed in agony as they were lifted by the guards and taken elsewhere. The general had another set of guards clean up the filth left behind.

"Hurry up, and stop testing my patience."