Thief of Time

Time seemed to slow as an icy-blue streak of light closed in on her. Her mana circuits, which were already lit up, coloured the world and dyed it in her own shade of blue, blotting out both the sun and the incoming attack.

Whirling on the spot, she focused whatever mana she had left onto the blade and her arms, throwing out the mightiest slash she had ever mustered in her life. The purple sphere protecting her crumbled away a heartbeat later, as the horrifying arrow loosed at her smashed through seamlessly.

Two words reluctantly left her lips, tinged with bitter regret. “Sword Roar.”

Her sword, which had accompanied her for many years, shattered right before it came into contact with the falling, Moon-like attack, leaving behind a translucent spectre. Dia felt her heart twist as the blade of her weapon — a gift from her late mother — turned into a stream of ceaseless light, drowning out the streak of ice.

The air shrieked as the arrow, which was only half a metre away from her, struggled against the river of energy that surged against it. A moment later, her spectral blade slammed into the icy light’s side, smashing it away from her, and the ground shuddered as the fatal projectile plunged into the soft soil.

The tops of Licencia’s buildings crumbled away as the river of energy she unleashed blew everything in its path away, but Dia was in no condition to watch or to mourn the lives lost.

All that remained in her mind was an endless expanse of regret.

Her sword — a gift from her mother — had been destroyed. It was the effect of Sword Roar; when activated, the currently-wielded sword would destroy itself to unleash a ranged attack, leaving behind a spectral form that would last five minutes.

The reason why the unleashed attack was so strong was because its strength scaled with the duration of ownership. This was a gift to her when she was thirteen; she had trained with the nameless blade for over ten years. It was the one sword that she thought she would never use Sword Roar with, but again, she had never thought that the Shadows of Grandis would muster up this much manpower against her either.

She knew, deep down, that there was no one at fault but her.

“If only I hadn’t gone out…”

Was her disbelief ingrained in her status as a mana-user, and as a scion of nobility? Dia didn’t know, but as she regarded the spectral sword in her hand, which was flickering in and out of existence, she had a feeling that it was that way. Despite all that time spent as a bounty hunter, along with people like Claud and Schwarz, she had been looking down on them, assuming that they were just too cautious.

The price she paid for her arrogance, her carelessness, had been one too dear.

Grasping the dying weapon in her hand, Dia looked at the ruination her sword’s parting blow had wrought. Without a doubt, her attack had either grievously wounded or killed her enemies; that last strike combined the effect of Sword Roar and Fated Sword.

Yet, she could derive no joy from the utter annihilation of her pursuers.

“Mother…”

Suppressing her grief, she left the place. It would not do if she dallied around any longer; that would make the sacrifice of her nameless blade moot. Her mother would scold her if she wasted time to mourn. There was a time and place for everything.

Picking up her pace, she darted into Moon Street, where the members of the Moon Lords were already peeking out at where she came from, and the sight made her heart twist up again. If she had managed to escape here, Dia would never have to use Sword Roar.

She slapped herself mentally. Moon Street would have been a river of blood if she had fled here. That arrow was powered by multiple mana-users — it was not a force that vanillas could contend against. She didn’t want to massacre the city too, despite everything, which was why she hadn’t used Sword Fall or Domain of Swords.

“Dia?” The bartender, who was now clad in a shimmering suit of armour, walked up towards her.

“Master.”

“We’re not in the bar.”

The bartender’s snappy reply brought back some sense of normalcy for Dia.

“Right.” The spectral blade in her hand winked out a moment later, leaving nothing but a bladeless hilt behind. Her breathing stumbled for a moment, but Dia managed to control her emotions.

“I saw what happened,” said Schwarz. “And I know what skills you probably had at your disposal.”

Dia grunted and walked in the direction of Moon Mansion.

“Thank you for not using them here,” the bartender said. She could feel him bow in her direction, but that action just worsened her mood. It was a reminder that if she hadn’t stepped out of Moon Mansion, the battle wouldn’t have happened, and there would have been no need to use any skills at all.

Behind her, Schwarz continued to issue instruction after instruction, and Moon Street began to return to normal. Clearly, the bartender and the others had intended to lead the Moon Lords out to support her, but now that she had returned…

She walked into the entrance booth, and a harsh mechanical voice spoke.

“Purpose?”

“To rule from up high.”

“Purpose affirmed.” A black square emerged from the booth. “Remove all disguise artefacts, and place your hand on the designated area. Non-compliance will be dealt with on the spot.”

Dark thoughts continued to swirl around her mind as she followed through with the other procedures. There were so many ‘ifs’, and the fact that she had them was proof that she still hadn’t learned the valuable lessons Claud and Schwarz had imparted to her over and over.

“Dia.” Farah approached her, her face one of concern. “I heard that the Shadows of Grandis attacked you. We were preparing to move out in support.”

“Yes.” Dia gripped her broken weapon, and then hung it on her belt. Without a blade, her sheath was useless, and the unease she felt in doing so just worsened her feelings. What was supposed to be a carefree stroll had turned into a desperate fight, and her anger towards the murderers of Ruler Umbra intensified.

By now, she had accepted that there was no point in chasing Tot. The Thief of Time had proven his overwhelming might by slapping down the Spear of Fate without even doing anything, and Dia even found the initial intelligence of Tot laughable from hindsight.

She couldn’t hate Tot, who was probably a victim of machinations from up high, like her. No. What she now hated was the fact that she — along with a few other luckless ones — had been turned into scapegoats for the murder of Ruler Umbra.

And anything else, herself. For failing to stamp out her noble-born arrogance. For looking down on people who had her best interests in mind. Fortunately, no lives had been lost on her side, but…

“You don’t seem fine to me,” Farah replied. “Does she, Risti?”

“No.”

Dia was silent for a moment, and then patted her belt, where the bladeless hilt was hanging at. “My sword was something my mother gave to me. I was forced to use Sword Roar, which destroys the weapon when wielded.”

“Oh.”

Dia shook her head. “It’s my fault. Should have done every single thing Claud and Schwarz suggested before I went out, but somewhere deep down, I thought he was being overly excessive.”

“He is extreme at times,” said Farah, “but I think you were just being dumb here.”

“Farah—” Risti began, but the countess cut her off.

“It might be a bit weird, coming from me, but you — as someone whose life is at risk — should have taken all due precautions. This is irresponsibility on a massive scale. If you were one of my generals, I would have you flogged after this,” said Farah. “Leaders — and make no mistake, you are a leader of the Moon Lords — have a responsibility to their subordinates. Death? Injury? Even simply being exposed to the threat of either one without a justifiable reason is nothing short of letting your subordinates down.”

Dia took an involuntary step back. Countess Farah seemed…different. There was a heavy pressure radiating off her, one that she had felt when watching her father conduct his morning court long ago.

It was a sovereign’s dignity.

“I-I understand.”

The countess’ eyes flashed. “See that you do. Risti, take care of her for me.”

She swept out of the area, leaving Dia and Risti behind. The latter patted her head in a consoling manner. “Farah has your wellbeing in mind, so…”

“I know,” Dia replied. “I know.”

“Do you?” Risti narrowed her eyes slightly. “Regardless, you have paid a dear price for it, so make sure that you at least learn your lesson. The real Princess Dia wouldn’t have done this, but I suppose not everyone can be as perfect as her.”

Messing up her hair, Risti got up and left.

Her words, however, continued to echo in Dia’s mind, along with that of the countess.

It would seem that she had much in the way of reflection to do.