Chapter 14

Mona waited to see the two moons come above the horizon. At the start of evening, only the night patrols would still walk the halls, and he would be much safer. With his Aura at the level close to the peak, he was able to sense them. Those nearly silent movements had largely eluded him until now, but it was as clear as a bell each time those steps fell. Guards came around at an hourly basis, but also past his door at random. Initially he couldn't decipher if there was a pattern to their actions, but he was able to find a niche bit of time, a bit that always appeared at this very moment. The days just managed to coincide perfectly.

Going into his mental palace, he called for his family's armor, the item floating in his room as it did in his mind. He held the piece, feeling the weight in his hands. His fingers couldn't help but run over the insignia of the Aurum lineage this armor carried. The gems on it glistened in the moonlight.

"Sigh."

He was a long way from home, and he didn't know what he would find when returning. Not if. He had made up his mind, one day, he would return to the land of his fathers. But now, he had to stay alive.

The armor returned back to his mental space. Mona was careful as he could be; he didn't know if anyone else could sense the armor returning and leaving the fabric of space. It was natural he wouldn't let even these potentialities get in the way.

The Flame Art he had been practicing these past few days refused to budge. A wall was building up in his mind. With no one to ask questions, he couldn't find out if this method had any next steps. He shuffled his hands within his bed, looking at the ripped pages, reading them over and over. While his Aura thrummed, and his body reacted to the fragments, they didn't lend any clues on what to do next.

"If this is a legacy..."

He furrowed his brows. If there was anything else missing from this method, like a manual or a support tool, he'd be stuck at this level forever. What use would this have after he reached Fighter rank?

Mona tried to get rid of this thought, shifting back to the aura cultivation technique. He spent the rest of the night boosting his Aura, and the little wisps happily gathered in his Aura Heart. Only a few more days, and he would be in the peak stage of an Aura Novice. The thought brought a sense of security to his frail self. And so the night went on, with Mona cultivating the rest of the night away.

*****

Before Cross could arrive, Mona tidied up his room. Today was the day of the Trials, and so he pulled out the ripped pages and hid them in his clothes. If the guards decided to check their cells while he was gone, what awaited him on his return would be unnecessary troubles. The rest of the books he had were carefully stacked in a corner on the other side of the room. Finally he took the chance to wash his face, then stood at attention for the familiar banging.

Cross stood there, a small sack of sorts in his hand. Mona, curious, walked forwards.

"The Trials will last until the end. There is a limit of five days. Here are enough rations to last as long. Don't lose it."

The sack was tossed into Mona's hands, and in it he could see several pieces of hard bread, and a tin, presumably water.

"Come. Let's go."

Cross waited for Mona to move, before returning to his usual procedure. Their steps were steady, with nothing but the sounds of their feet accompanying them. Until Cross spoke up.

"You should be grateful. That bread is fairly fresh, and had been stored all this time. Compared to the other competitors..."

His words trailed off, but Mona understood. That noblewoman Herkruz was still favoring him, even after the mishap from yesterday. He was thankful for the bread, but not enough to get on his knees for her.

It must be the cultivation technique.

After some time pondering, Mona understood why the other kidnapped men had acted so differently in front of those nobles. After countless days of losing his mind momentarily whenever he cultivated, he realized that the technique had something hidden in it. Something that was brainwashing the other captives in this facility into loyal dogs of the Faulkner empire.

The armor his family gave him had been keeping him safe all this time, albeit reducing the progress he was receiving. And given that many of the captives likely never received such a technique, they'd be even more willing to "forgive and forget" after making so much progress. After all, although Mona was roughly average in his Aura compared to the others, he had long started to fall behind. Many had already reached the peak level of Aura Novice, and a few even touched the barrier to Aura Fighter.

But was all that worth becoming a puppet for the eagle heads? Of course not. But would the slaves even know their brains were being washed if it happened bit by bit each day?

Mona found himself in the familiar main hall of this prison structure. More guards were present today, as was a few familiar figures. General Rigar was seated in the center of the the arranged staff, chatting away with another to his left. The speaker from yesterday noticed Mona, and he began feeling her death glare at once. He did his best to pay it no mind, and kept his focus on the crowd in front of him. Many of the "changed" men were stepping in pace, eager to go into the Trials.

Before him was the Trials of Faulkner, a rectangular archway coated in sigils, countless eagles etched along its angular surface. It was several meters wide, and plenty tall, and contained a portal that led to the void. The gateway glowed in a timeless yellow, and had plenty of allure to those ready to rush in.

"Today begins the first Trial. I would like to wish you good luck inside. Do not let your future masters down. Show all your skills, and rise to your proper rank. You are now part of Faulkner, now bring glory to his name!"

Rigar shouted at the crowd, his voice having no trouble to muffle the gathered below. Everyone took time to look at him, but only Mona's eyes were still his own.

"Now be off! And may you... succeed!"

Rigar pointed at the gate, watching as the war slaves rushed into the massive gateway one after another, a pleased expression on his face. Mona kept up with the crowd, his sack in one hand, slung over his back. Three steps into the gateway, and he lost the floor beneath him.

*****

"Ugh. I hate this feeling."

Mona stood up, his limbs finding the familiar sensation of teleportation bothersome. While he had only teleported like this in his ascension, the feeling was very familiar, and his joints creaked in pain as he righted himself. If he ever got the chance, he needed to look into what was the right way to enter these.

Welcome...to...the...Trials.

A voice thundered in his head, old, proud, and strong. He could sense the pressure the speaker could have if he was alive today, based on his voice alone.

First, a maze. Reach... the center. Stay... alive. You... have 3. Go.

The voice left him in silence, his eyes now looking about.

The walls extended upwards into oblivion. The stone looked age, and was covered in decayed vines through cracks in the slabs. The light was thin, just a few feet in front. There was no light source, so this much be thanks to the Trials. At his feet, he could feel a strange fluid. It didn't cling to his feet with each step, nor reflected his existence, but the sound of his steps rung true. It was faint, but not faint enough to allow sneaking. Cowardly tactics wouldn't work well here.

He was at one end of this labyrinth, and it was the first day, so Mona took a single look about before continuing. His steps left a sloshing sound as he kept moving forwards.

For a while he kept his steps going, waiting for something to change. Then he had an idea, a great one. Looking left and right at the intersection he was about to cross, he moved back a little further. Then, he took off his top, and held it over his shoulder. With a thought, the family armor came into his free hand, and he did his best to carefully put it on, before putting his clothing on top.

Was it uncomfortable? Yes. Did he almost soil his sack of food with the murky liquid below by dropping it? Also yes. But he did feel safer in this perilous Trial. That's all that mattered. And maybe this would allow him to stay alive a little longer. Besides, he could always hide the armor after, as long as he kept it hidden well. At the very least, it wasn't visible when he looked down.

The slosh of water was a sound he was quickly getting sick of. He'd run into a few dead ends, and had long forgot his initial starting point. The walls all looked the same, and the water beneath was an empty black. He tried punching the wall and even activating his Flame Art, but Mona couldn't leave a mark. So he did what he only could do; held one hand to a wall and walked forwards. Luck guided his steps this point forward, and so far he'd say his luck was okay, all things considered.

Then something whizzed past his head. It missed his temple, but did nick his ear. He could feel the thump, and a small trickle of blood flow down the cartilage before mixing into the black liquid below. His first impulse was to freeze, but he did his best to overcome it and clung to a wall instead.

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Another whizzed by.

Even with his Aura at full force, surging in his veins, he didn't see what was flying. It came as it went. And likely landed into the murk behind. He wanted to go back and examine it, but he didn't know what was causing it, and if it could start targeting him too.

He got into a crouch, body closer to the water than he liked. He gradually eased into the center of the path, waiting for another attack. He felt with his other hand, the small chunk missing from the fold of his ear. The blood flow was slowing down with his Aura activated.

Another whizzed by, just above his head. A bit of his hair moved about at the wind this thing carried. Good, he didn't get hit this time.

Inching forward, Mona did his best to keep his eyes forward. Occasionally another item would soar over his head, but he no longer took any damage. The stinging in his ear had disappeared; a scab now forming on the site. It felt irregular, but Mona reminded himself that while this was realistic, the damage wouldn't carry to his real body.

He began to see something. A small creature, barely his height, armed in a full set of fabric. A hand on a crossbow, its eyes leering in his direction.

Sure enough it was a goblin, its two ears pulled back, just as in his old library books showed.

So I don't just have to deal with the others...

Mona took in the site of the creature, who couldn't see him. Mona guessed that the goblin couldn't due to its weaker eyes, and took his chance to inch closer to the creature. He returned to the wall of the maze again, inching closer to the dim-witted goblin. The goblin kept shooting down the hallway, not bothering to move or do anything.

If this was a gift from the maze, Mona was more than happy to take it. His Aura already active, he chanted the words in his mind.

Flame Art: Heat Emission.

The goblin wasn't ready. As it turned its eyes and saw the approaching human, it could see a palm flying at its head. Right before its eyes, it could hear and feel a sizzling sensation, a feeling his skin, head, and eye felt all too close. The goblin shrieked in agony, the crossbow tossed in the air and clattering away.

"Kreee...!"

It kept up its scream, as the heat slowly fizzled away its skin, its eye, its skull, and what was left inside it. The attack only stopped when it felt Death take it, the limbs of the creature falling to the ground. It's skull became a slurry of matter that leaked into the murky waters, until coming to a stop.

Mona felt a sense of nausea coming to him.

Realistic. This is too realistic.

He felt something in his palm in that attack, and didn't want to remember the touch of the creature's flesh as it evaporated. He took a moment to breathe, standing to make it easier. The corpse didn't move or disappear. It simply laid there as if it was always this way.

Once his mind was better, Mona took in the image of the goblin corpse and then looked at his palm. He tried extending the method longer than it usually operated, and the results were clear. This method could melt flesh, not just of monsters, but also humans as well. The thought gave him pause, but he remembered his condition and gritted his teeth. If it came to it, he'd do as he needed.

Carefully, Mona took the sling of sticks the goblin had been carrying off the corpse, throwing it on his own. There was plenty left, and the goblin wouldn't be using it anymore. He couldn't go searching in the murk for the items either; whatever sank under the water seemed to disappear, like the matter the goblin was spewing near its head. He walked toward the crossbow, picking it up and shaking off the murk that was still clinging to it.

Mona took a pull of the string. It was strong, but with Aura, he wouldn't have too much trouble. He notched a stick, wooden rods sharpened at one end, and clicked the latch shut. Now it was ready to use. Sadly he couldn't try and check for range. He couldn't see anything that far, or retrieve any ammunition he used.

Sack on his back, crossbow in arm, Mona took his steps forward once again. The goblin didn't have anything useful, and the clothing was better off unused and left with it. Less said about the fabrics the better. A mellow slosh followed each of his steps, but he felt a bit safer with a crossbow in hand. And, if all else failed, he could try with his Flame Art, and that would take care of the rest.

After peering down a few more intersections, Mona found himself at a dead end. He sighed, a bit frustrated. Then he turned around, walking back to the intersection he found. But then he stopped, clinging to the wall.

He heard movement, movement coming down the perpendicular. He wasn't sure what it was, or how many, but the steps were several. Whatever it was didn't make a sound, and the only proof it or they were passing was the heavy sloshing that followed their steps. His heart leapt into his throat as he did his best to minimize his size, sinking to a full squat to avoid being seen. Mona wasn't able to see what was passing, as whatever was passing existed just out of his line of sight. So he just had to squat there, in silence, waiting for the thing or things to pass.

After a 10 minute wait, he couldn't hear the creatures anymore, and rose up to stretch his legs. His breathing relaxed as a sense of relief came over him. Mona wiped the light sweat off his head, looking back at the direction the creatures went.

Just what was that?

He could only imagine what that was, whatever it could be. As he was about to walk again, he heard a different sound.

Frantic sloshing.

A sound he knew all too well.

A goblin was screeching as it was coming from the opposite side. The goblin couldn't see Mona yet. In its hands were a scuffed blade and a small shield, the thing filling the maze with its scream. From body language alone, he thought this creature was trying to chase after whatever was passing earlier.

What luck. He aimed the crossbow at the creature's head, pulling on the trigger.

Thwang.

The sharpened dowel plunged forwards, skimming just above the head of the goblin. It landed in the muck and said its goodbye to the world, disappearing to the wind.

Shit.

The goblin came to a stop, reaching to feel the top of its head where the stick just passed. It felt the little bit of turbulence the dowel made, and was starting to take steps back. It raised its shield above its head, trying to protect from a brain injury.

"Skree--"

Too bad it had too many weak points. Mona armed another dowel, latching it quickly and shooting it in the leg. The results were immediate. An ooze of purple blood connected to the murk. It fell to a seating position, before it dropped everything to hold its thigh in agony.

"SKREEE!"

The shrieks didn't get any softer, as the creature felt the dowel plunged just above its knee. It tried to touch the dowel, but the thing screeched louder. Perhaps Mona's luck was improving; the attack must have severed a tendon, not merely entered flesh.

With its guard down, the goblin was the perfect target. Another dowel plunged into its skull, a thick stream of blood gushing out of the hole as the creature fell. One hand was still resting on the thigh, the other atop its chest. It looked up into the sky, dead.

Mona exhaled a breath he was holding. He was just about to scavenge the corpse as before, but a thought came to him. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, and hid in the dead end from before. His body squatted against the corner, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"....."

When nothing seemed to happen, he had a sigh of relief, got back up, and returned to the goblin swordsman. This guy was following something or someone, and so if he got lost in his new loot, he could've lost one of his lives right there. Everything was so realistic, so Mona could only imagine the pain of death in a place like this. He didn't need to take any new psychological traumas with him after the trials were over.

A shield, a scuffed blade, and more unusable fabric. So far it seemed every goblin wore tattered and dirty clothing. He had plenty of ideas for the clothes, if only they were at least somewhat clean. He held the sword in one hand, looked at the crossbow in his right, his sack, and the shield on the floor.

A dilemma.

"What should I take?"

Mona stood there and thought about it. Soon enough he made his decision.

Unslinging from the goblin, Mona took the sheath, tied it with the sling of arrows, and wore it on his back. The sack was not carefully placed there, ensuring it wouldn't fall. Mona knew it would look odd with a hump on his back, but in this near darkness he had to improvise. His left hand held the sword, just shorter than a regular sword for humans, and the shield in his right. It was circular in nature, but its small size meant it could barely protect anything. At best he could use it for parrying, if he could time it.

Mona tried swinging the blade for a while, trying to get a feel for the weight. He'd only ever watched sword wielding, but combat experience would have to do. He tried covering his head with the shield, finding it did a decent job of covering it.

"Good. Now let's take care of this."

He looked at the fallen pile of dowels, and the abandoned crossbow. He used his feet to sweep the sticks into the murk, destroying them forever. And then he stomped on the crossbow.

One hit.

Two hits.

Three.

The mechanism holding the string snapped, the latch falling into the water with the string. A few extra stomps, and the remains of the crossbow fell under the water.

"Now I don't have to worry about being targeted by anyone else by those sticks. And I can still keep my method a secret."

Mona began to take his strides again. He paused for a moment and looked back at where the crossbow disappeared.

"...What was this fluid made out of?"

The items vanished without a trace under the murk. And soon enough, Mona turned back and began taking steps forward again, vanishing from this part of the maze as well.

*****

7 archers. 3 swordsman. 4 shield bearers. And even 2 spear wielders.

Mona pulled the blade out of the last goblin, the blood just bubbling out of where he stabbed. The spear wielder was in a group of three, so it was tricky, but he won in the end using the intersection to hide around. The goblin, seeing its two comrades fall to the ground, ran after him in rage. That earned the violent little thing a deep stab in its side, and a stream of blood merging with the murk.

Mona swung the blade a few times, trying to get the last bit of the dark purple fluid off his hands. His clothes were stained in this maze; the last few fights weren't pretty. He'd gone from single targets, to pairs, and now groups. Before these 3 were a set of five, but fortunately those five didn't have an archer in tow and so he had little trouble taking care of them.

He would always crouch down to his toes, shimmy forward along the walls of the maze, and take the enemy by surprise. If lucky, one slash would down them and he could get away. If not, a few would do the trick, and he'd still have enough time to make a dash out. The goblins would take a second to hold their fallen comrade, before making chase, giving him sufficient time to duck a corner and wait for them.

Killing these goblins was getting easy. A bit too easy for his taste. He didn't quite get over the sensation of taking lives.

Mona let out a breath of tiredness, the turbid air quickly dissipating. He'd been fighting for quite a while now, and his body was beginning to seek sleep. Feeling his navel with his bare hand, he was getting hungry too.

Mona traded his tools with the fallen goblins. The new sword took the place of the worn one from before, the shield replaced with a fresh piece. Following from before, he did his best to submerge the gear he didn't take, letting the murk of the maze consume them. The goblin corpses lay flat in the murk, not thin enough to go under the water, just tall enough to see their expressions at death. Agony, shock, and pain was in their glazed eyes. The murk pooled back and forth from their orifices. It was a grizzly sight.

Mona turned around, feeling the weight of his gear getting heavier. Or rather, his body getting weaker. He was using his Aura all this time, to attack, to defend, to make quick movements in emergencies, and now his tendons and joints sought a chance to relax. He began to look for a dead end, remembering that the few times he had found them and waited the goblins seemed to back off in that moment.

His steps were alone in this section of the maze, and so far he hadn't run into any other dead corpses or other participants. Maybe the maze was cleaning them up? He couldn't say.

A turn appeared before him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as he realized it was a dead end. But as his steps got closer, he saw something on the other side.

Mona kept walking forwards, his sword and shield ready, his eyes focused on whatever was there. Around 5 feet he could see the shape beyond an indistinct haze, and 2 feet in, he recognized who it was. Mona lowered his sword and shield.

It was Rolf.