Thief of Time

Princess Dia was sitting down and sipping at a nice cup of tea when three women, looking exactly like her, came down from the staircase. She had whiled the night away writing a small book, the item that she’d promised that fellow yesterday. It was a nice surprise for her to meet someone whose price was something she didn’t need to lose, so she had taken to this task in high spirits.

Of course, the more important reason behind why she didn’t go and sleep through the night was because there were no more beds. Now that the three idiots had come down, it was their turn to write and add some tips for the fellow named Claud. And while they were busy working here, Isolde would take the chance to explore Licencia without the fear of offending other people.

She hadn’t forgotten about Farah's performance last night, after all. Taking out swords and sticking them on someone's neck was bad.

“Morning.” Stifling a yawn, she indicated the other seats around the table.

“What happened last night, Isolde?” Farah asked. “I had a feeling something horrible happened to me.”

“You had a drink.”

“Right.” The countess rubbed her eyes. “I’m never going to drink anymore commoner sludge from now on. That was disgusting.”

“It’s just that place,” Dia replied. “And calling it commoner sludge won’t endear you to anyone whatsoever.”

Smacking the countess on her head, she turned to Risti. “Next time, don’t go sleeping at a bar or whatnot. Some arrogant fools tried to bring you along into a room for some fun time without your consent. If not for the bartender, something would definitely have happened to you. You must remember that men have not been taught about self-respect, so don’t rely on their kindness.”

“I don’t think I’ll kidnap a sleeping man, though,” Risti replied, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Society’s at fault for this one.”

“It is, but until more of us actually make it so that women and men have the same rights, you should be a bit more careful.” Dia paused. “Or you could kill them and teach them the hard way.”

“So how did I get away unscathed?” Risti asked. “Did you intervene? What happened to that punk? Do you know his name? I’m going to get dad to smack him a few times!”

Given that her father was the leader of the Folder’s Association, the largest gathering of mana-users, Dia had a feeling that it was actually a good thing for the man when he was killed by her. With a single rallying cry, Risti’s father could gather all kinds of mana-users. Who knew what types of weird skills they would have?

And that wasn’t even talking about vanillas who didn’t have the resources to become a mana-user. If one of them with special, torture-oriented skills were to offer their services in hopes of gaining an opportunity…well.

Right, I should write down some things about the Folder’s Association…wait, I should leave that to Risti, who has a better understanding of the place. After all, he did help her…I guess?

Clearing her throat, Isolde said, “Well, there’s no need. The son of Baron Aoro’s dead. He had a mana-user as a bodyguard, but that fellow died too, killed by Triple-D’s patrons. Their bodies should be feeding the fishes by now.”

“Killed by what?” Farah asked.

“A bunch of ordinary people,” Dia replied promptly. “He was taken by surprise; a whole bunch of plates and whatever were thrown at him by everyone else present. His head was smashed into pieces and everything.”

Everyone present, not just the three Dia-lookalikes, winced. Looking around the first floor of the inn, Dia reminded herself that this was a quieter place than Triple-D, and therefore she should learn to speak softer. After a while, the awkward moment passed, and she resumed her words.

“Well, in other words, the son of Baron Aoro is dead,” Dia replied. “And from what I hear, the baron’s definitely going to suffer a loss if he makes his way here to seek an explanation…Risti? What are you doing?”

Risti, at some point in time, had produced a small piece of paper and a wooden pen, and was busy writing on it right now. “I’m just going to write to dad. Someone who can have children who doesn’t respect us is probably a bad egg too. This Baron Aoro doesn’t need to exist anymore…by the way, who is he?”

“Remember that Pletsville we left a few days ago? That’s his territory. More importantly, he’s someone related to Duke Istrel, so—"

“So he’s nothing much, then. Some small fry I can squash.” Risti paused and turned to Farah. “Farah, what kind of bodyguards would an extremely rich and important count have?”

Did you just say someone connected to Duke Istrel is nothing much? I mean, he is nothing much, but that connection is a lot more important, right? Stewing over her internal thoughts, Dia watched as the two continued to plot — no, arrange — the downfall of Baron Aoro.

“Extremely rich and important?” Farah tilted her head. “If we’re talking about personal guards for a count of such a nature, something like ten one-folders and one bi-folder.”

“Hmm…well then, I’ll have dad send out three bi-folders to deal with Baron Aoro and end his bloodline.” After scribbling a few more words onto the piece of paper, mana poured out of her hand and surrounded the letter for a few moments, in a manner that reminded her of fire. Withdrawing the mana a few seconds later, she folded the letter up and stuffed it into a bag.

“So,” Dia muttered, “this is how a noble family is destroyed, eh? Can’t say that I’ve never seen this before.”

“I’ll just offer some condolences to Baron Aoro first,” Farah muttered. “What kinds of manpower does your father have, Risti?”

“Every single mana-user in Grandis,” Risti replied. “I mean, he just needs to put up a reward of around fifteen minutes of personal guidance for people to offer their lives to him.”

“And I thought that I had a huge background,” Farah replied. “You seem far more important than me, with all these resources and people at your command.”

“I’m just using dad’s name to help,” Risti replied. “It’s different from you, since you’re a” —she lowered her volume— “countess in your own right. You could mobilise troops if you really wanted to, right?”

“I’ll need the permission of Count Nightfall if I need to bring more than fifty soldiers along, though,” said Farah. “And it’s also good manners to tell a lower-ranked noble if you’re bringing troops through their domain.”

“Since you aren’t the paramount power in this place, it’s probably not a good idea to act this recklessly,” Dia said. “Sending three bi-folders to level Baron Aoro and his family is more than enough, but what will you do after that?”

“I’ll let my father handle it.”

Dia blinked twice. “So carefree! Wouldn’t Pletsville be in chaos within…within…”

“My point exactly. It was a mess from the very start, so that’s how it is.” Risti shrugged. “Besides, anyone else would be a better ruler than that Baron something, from the looks of his domain.”

Dia couldn’t help but think that this Risti, when she was talking about serious business like offing an entire noble family, was a lot more agreeable to the eyes. It was far better than the hyper-stalker Risti, who was unreasonably aware of everything in her life up until now.

She had a feeling that there was something rather wrong with that sentiment, but literally anything else was better than Risti’s original settings, so she rolled with it a moment later.

Lily, who had been silent the whole time, mumbled some words and then flopped over on the table.

“What’s up with her?” Dia asked.

“She was sleeping on me when I woke up, so I gave her a rather violent awakening,” Farah replied. “In hindsight, I should have been a bit gentler, but…”

Her voice trailed off.

“Well, whatever.” Dia got up from her seat and pointed at the small book she had been writing in. “I’m going out to do some stuff. Farah you stay here and fill up this manual with any helpful tips for folders. We should at least put some effort into teaching that Claud fellow for all his help.”

“But that’s boring.”

“Either that, or I force-feed you some drinks from Triple-D,” Dia replied. “Make your choice.”

“Fine, I’ll write some.”

“And make sure you do them properly,” Dia added. “As for Risti…why not write useful tips for the Folders’ Association? Might help him too.”

“Sure, although I don’t think he’s the kind to join the Folders’ Association.” Risti shrugged. “Or even if he did, he’ll be like one of those members who come by once a year to claim their benefits.”

“That’s really none of my business, though,” said Dia. “I just don’t like owing people things, especially if they were sincere ones. Alright, that’s all. I’m going to poke around Licencia and see if I can find traces of Tot. Alright, Lily, let’s go. Risti, make sure to keep an eye on Farah.”

Dragging a sleepy Lily up, Dia pulled her out of the inn and into the bright sunlight.