Thief of Time

Dia had never heard of a house that had siege weapons installed, even if the house in question was actually Moon Mansion, but all things evidently had a first.

“Come,” said the bartender, “head over to those statues. There are four, right? Each of you choose one.”

“Statues?” Risti asked.

“Yeah, the four here.” The bartender pointed at the four separate statues that had been creeping Dia out earlier. They were modelled after an average adult, and other than their eyes, which were socketed with some green gems, they looked very much alive. “Just stand behind them.”

Dia did as she was told, positioning herself behind the statue. There was nothing much to look at, save for a small blue button. If she hadn’t been standing right there, she would probably have missed it, but now that she noticed the button…

Another set of dull quakes rocked the mansion as she resisted the urge to press the blue button.

“Everyone see the blue button?” Schwarz asked, his words somewhat rushed. “Press it, but don’t be surprised at what happens next.”

Dia exchanged glances with the others, and then pushed down on the button. For a moment, nothing happened, before a sensation of being jerked upwards assailed her mind. Her vision changed dramatically; instead of the interior of Moon Mansion, she was now staring down on the streets of Licencia. There were multiple grey squares all over the place, each of them placed around one person.

“What the—”

“Like I said,” Schwarz’s voice echoed out, “don’t be worried. Right now, your mind is acting as the target selector for the ballista under your control. Everything else is done automatically.”

“That convenient?” Risti’s voice echoed out.

“Yeah, well, Claud went a bit too wild with the security budget,” Schwarz replied, his voice somewhat bitter. “Ate into my own share. Heck, the ballistae are built into the support structure for this dome, which cost so much money that…never mind. Anyway, just look for a target — in this case, the halberd-wielding fellow — and uh, squint your eyes.”

The grey square in the skies turned red, while its edges began to smoothen out.

“It should turn red,” said Schwarz. “Now, once the square turns into a red circle, you can shoot it. Just say ‘fire’, and—whoops.”

Moon Mansion shook as a streak of silver, illuminated by Percuti’s light, slammed into the halberd-wielding figure. An anguished howl filled the skies as Schwarz’s unfortunate target was stabbed by a rather thick stake. The halberd fell from his hands as the skewered figure hung in the air, stunned.

Dia stared at that sight, dumbstruck, before Schwarz’s voice slammed into her ears.

“What are you waiting for? Finish him!”

“Fire!”

“Fire!”

“Fire!”

Dia’s voice harmonised with the others, and three more long stakes embedded themselves into the Shadow’s body. Rickens — the name of their unfortunate target — shuddered, before raising a finger at his opponent.

“Nightfall…” His voice, though weak, carried in the silent night. “You Moon-damned coward.”

“That wasn’t me,” said the count, his voice cold. “But from how you killed so many people with Arms Master, I’d only say one thing to those people: good job. And good riddance.”

“So it was you, then.” The Shadow’s body trembled. “In that case, die! Die, along with your city!”

His body began to glow with a blue light, a phenomenon Dia immediately understood. The Shadow was intending to collapse all his mana-circuits, at which point he would detonate, turning a huge area into an explosion.

“Schwarz!” Dia yelled. “Activate whatever defences we have!”

“No need,” the bartender’s cool voice replied. “Look!”

The blue light, which had been intensifying a moment ago, was already fading out. A decapitated body was falling from the skies, one that was skewered by four separate stakes. As the body fell, the two chakrams followed, darting around and shredding the corpse into strips of minced flesh. Blood burst out like flowers, scattering droplets that gleamed a brighter red under Percuti.

The shocked silence that followed soon gave way to uproarious cheering from Licencia’s residents. Count Nightfall hovered in the night sky, his figure one barely illuminated by Percuti’s light. The red moon of strife seemed to shine down on him, and for a moment, Dia had the feeling that it was blessing the count. The two chakrams returned to him moments later, orbiting around his waist slowly.

Count Nightfall looked down on the city. “Citizens of Licencia. Those who have been affected by the Shadow of Grandis’ reckless use of Arms Master should head over to the nearest government office to claim compensation. Deaths. Injuries. Loss of life and limb. I — no, Ruler Istrel — will compensate for the deplorable state of events today.”

Brushing his shoulder, the count flew back to Nightfall Palace, leaving behind the damaged city. Before he flew back, however, Dia could swear to the Moons that he had sent a glance over to Moon Mansion, and it didn’t seem like anything good.

“Well,” Schwarz’s words echoed in her head, “it seems that tonight’s events are over. I can’t say for sure if the outcome’s favourable to us, but we can definitely assume that the count’s forgotten all about the organisation called the Moon Lords, if the compulsion worked well. Yay…yeah, no. We just reminded him about us again. Joy.”

“Nice and all,” Farah’s voice echoed, “but how do we leave?”

“Just press the button,” Schwarz replied. “You can still control your body.”

Dia did as he instructed, and her vision returned to that of Moon Mansion’s living room. Glancing at the others, who were displaying varying shades of surprise, she headed over to a chair and sat down.

“Looks like the problems with the Shadows of Grandis can be said to be temporarily solved,” said Schwarz. “From the count’s words, I believe that none of them would be left alive…or at least free enough to disturb a certain body double.”

“Other than that, he has also been tied up effectively,” said Farah. “I’ve never really come into contact with the Emperor’s personal enforcers, but a loss of someone as important as a tri-folder is probably going to take up a great deal of Nightfall’s attention and resources.”

She chuckled. “That bit about how Ruler Istrel…well, the soon-to-be Ruler Istrel, anyway. From the sounds of it, it seems that Istrel is the one moving those Shadows around, rather than the Emperor himself.”

“True,” said the bartender. “From my understanding, the Shadows of Grandis are empowered to act independently. It would seem that ‘independently’ here meant in collusion with Istrel, at least. Count Nightfall might be in some trouble.”

“With Istrel?” Risti asked.

“Yes. Tri-folders aren’t all that common too; the Emperor would probably find out in a day or two.” Schwarz drummed his fingers on the statue in front of him. “An inquiry might follow, and then they would investigate the exact circumstances surrounding the Shadow’s death.”

Dia let out a sigh. “Fortunately for us all, this Shadow had his own skills. From the looks of it, he deleted the Shadow Save skill, or else he might have managed to escape after we poked some holes in him. That would be really troublesome.”

Schwarz froze, and then shook his head. “I didn’t think about that bit. Looks like we got lucky this round, then. If he escaped, Moon Mansion would probably not know a single day of peace.”

“Or make it past a single day,” said Dia.

“That too, yes.”

“Right at the end,” said Risti, “when he left, I could swear that he looked at us. Is that going to be a problem? Didn’t we make him forget all about us?”

“Can we not talk about that for today?” Schwarz shook his head, a helpless look on his face. “Of course he would notice us. Why wouldn’t he take note of a house that has four ballistae installed in it? If he didn’t, that would have been far odder.”

“What is he going to do then?”

“To be honest,” said the bartender, “I would seriously want to get some sleep before I ponder the consequences of what we just did.”

“I know that feeling,” said Farah. “Normally, I would admonish you for doing that, but it’s not like this is something we can affect. Unless, of course, you want to flee this city.”

“It’s probably not going to come down to that,” said Schwarz. “So all in favour of sleeping?”

Farah glared at the bartender. “I know that I just said that, but please don’t drag other people down in your sloth.”

“Come on,” said the bartender. “It’s easier on my conscience if everyone falls asleep together—”

“Thereby making everyone pick up the same habit,” the countess completed. “A bad one. And when something like this happens again, we’ll all decide to go nap it out, and then get killed the next morning. Genius.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not going to happen like that,” Schwarz replied. “Besides, there’s literally nothing we can do. I bet word has already spread around the town, and I don't feel like running. Let's just face it head on. Besides, what if Count Nightfall decides to award us with one of his Good Citizen Awards tomorrow? If we don’t get enough sleep, we’ll look like a laughing stock.”

“Yeah, I think you’re asleep already,” said Farah. “Keep dreaming. If that happens, I’ll call you master.”

“Come on, a man can dream, right?” Schwarz stifled a yawn. “Whatever. I’m going to nap first. You three should do the same. Goodnight.”

He ambled off.

Farah looked around and shook her head. “You two…forget it. Go get some rest too.”

Dia waved her hand, and then headed back to her room.