[Book 4: In the Dark of the Moons]

“Claud, bring me yesterday’s records of newcomers into Licencia,” Schwarz said out loud. “Oh, and a cup of tea while you’re at it. Right, there were some documents on mana-users entering last night too; bring them over too.”

“There you are.” Claud placed the desired documents onto Schwarz’s table.

“Great, thanks.” Schwarz lowered his eyes and flipped open the file. His hands turned into a blur as they matched two lists, his eyes darting from paper to paper. The Moon Lords had turned into a secondary administration for Licencia sometime ago, which was why Countess Farah and Schwarz were now doing all sorts of weird paperwork.

He could hear Farah bustle around in her own room too, as she asked Lily to bring document after document. This scene wasn’t a stranger to him — Schwarz and Farah would work themselves in exhaustion into the morning, and then enjoy a hearty lunch afterwards. Claud didn’t quite understand why these two were so eager to do things like these — the count paid well, sure, but what was the point of working this hard in the morning?

More importantly, there were folktales about how people who worked harder usually died from stress or other complications. It didn’t make sense to work this hard if one’s life was not at stake.

After delivering yet another set of documents, Schwarz shooed him away. His legs somewhat wobbly, he ambled over to his favourite sofa and sunk into it.

“They’re so hardworking,” Claud muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Lily said, before sitting down on a nearby sofa too. “And they don’t even want us to help either.”

“We can’t do much, though. They’re the professionals,” Claud replied. “But I still don’t understand why we can’t have the general staff carry the documents for them. I feel like my talents aren’t being used.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “It’s not like they could be used normally…”

“It’s a figure of speech, alright?” Claud rolled his eyes. His talent lay in stealing things, being sneaky and acting on his paranoia, which really wasn’t of much use in this workaholic environment right now. “Besides, I’m not the only one here who isn’t useful.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lily replied. “I really want to cook up something useful, but Schwarz isn’t hearing any of it either. Isn’t it good if I prepare more weapons and trump cards?”

“Seconded, motion passed.” Claud waved his hand lazily. “If it was up to me, I would have worked with you to strengthen our defences. Doors that explode! Windows that explode! Arrows that explode! Even traps that explode!”

“I object to your reductivist view of my skills,” Lily replied. “I also make good food, weapons and armour too.”

“Hm. Good point. In that case, why not make them, then?” Claud asked. “I don’t think Schwarz forbade you from making these things, right?”

“There’s nothing fun about making them,” Lily replied. “You can’t really see objective results or any signs of improvement, right? You can tell that your bomb-making’s grown through a variety of assessments, but there’s no way you can see visible improvement in making weapons or armour. It’s demoralising.”

Claud rubbed his ear. “That…is probably one of the oddest reasons I have ever heard in my entire life, if not the oddest itself.”

“I know,” Lily answered gloomily. “I’m regretting the fact that I learned Smithing. It’s a useless skill without resources, and I can’t see whether I’m actually doing well or not with my current skill level.”

“Oh.” Claud didn’t know what to make of that. “In that case, why did you learn it to begin with?”

“I had nothing better to learn,” Lily replied. “I’m not good at fighting—”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Liar.” Claud folded his arms. “Wasn’t someone trying to train my skill with a sword?”

“That’s duelling. It’s different.” Lily rolled her eyes. “If the two of us were to fight with no holds barred, I would almost certainly lose. I can’t win unfair fights.”

“Why do you assume…never mind. That’s actually high praise,” Claud replied. “Yeah, I fight unfair. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing?” Lily poured out a small cup of apple juice for herself, before looking down at the cup with a complex light in her eyes. “Maybe I should try learning something like a beverage skill…but I would need to delete Smithing first.”

“That’s quite a waste,” Claud replied.

Lily made a little sound in her throat.

“It’s not like you don’t like making weapons or armour, right?” Claud asked. “It’s just that you don’t know whether you’ve improved or something. In that case, why don’t you create your own benchmark for measuring improvement? Like the number of slashes your armour can take from Dia before it falls apart?”

“Is that a good idea?” Lily asked. “Turning Dia into a unit of measurement sounds somewhat insulting.”

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” Claud waved his hands airily. “Besides, she’ll probably have nothing much to do too, like the two of us. You can then get her to cooperate in your plan! We’ll call it the, uh, Super Smith operation! How’s that sound?”

“Claud, dear, just leave the names to someone else. That’s just…” Lily paused, uncertainty in her eyes. “That’s just bad. It’s boring and exaggerated. Names should be less emotive.”

“Oh.”

“There, there.” Lily looked around, before pouring out another cup of apple juice. “Here! Your favourite drink!”

“Thanks, I guess.” Claud decided not to think too hard about his naming sense. It was odd, though — he definitely came up with a good name for that odd skill earlier, so…

Downing the cup’s contents with a single gulp, he leaned back on the sofa and frowned. Crown was, as usual, fast asleep, so Claud couldn’t bring himself to wake the little fellow up for some amusement. Schwarz and Farah were handling work that he couldn’t quite comprehend, so it was best to stay out of his way. Lily, like him, was bored out of her mind, so she obviously didn’t have all that much to do.

“I’m bored,” Claud muttered.

“Want to have a duel?” She paused, and then hurriedly added, “With practice swords!”

“Hmm…no. I don’t think so.” Claud folded his arms. “It would be better if I were to practice escaping instead. Fighting isn’t good. Running is better.”

More importantly, Claud had a feeling that his mindset had shifted slightly ever since the encounter with the Tri-head Snake, or even earlier. In fact, he had a feeling that ever since he became a mana-user, he had grown more fearless and less cautious, a trend that probably doubled down when Zulan Patra was driven away by little old Crown.

“Running?” Lily asked. “I never really got around to understanding this bit, but how does one actually improve their ability to flee? It’s not like there’s anything you can do save for continuous exercise or something, right?”

“It’s a mindset,” Claud replied. “Staying alive doesn’t just depend on one’s ability to physically escape; it also looks at one’s mental discipline and acuity. To flee, or to hide. When and where? Should you change your position or hunker down in your hiding place?”

“Hmm.” Lily cocked her head. “I still don’t quite get it, though.”

“Let me give you an example,” Claud replied. “For instance, imagine you’re in a giant mansion. Nightfall Palace, for instance. People are chasing you, and you manage to find a corner, which reveals multiple rooms and a hallway.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If you want to escape, you’ll have to make multiple decisions. First, are you going to hide? Or are you going to continue down the hallway? The longer you run, the more time the guards have to pinpoint your current location. Therefore, at some point in time, you must exit the stage. If you can’t, your only recourse is to hide.”

“So…hiding is better?”

“If you can’t flee the scene,” said Claud. “You’ll then need to know where to hide, when to leave, and how to escape. Some guards like to play games — they’ll try to scare you into breaking out of your hiding spot, since searching creates blind spots for you to flee.”

“There’s a lot more to escaping than it seems,” Lily mused. “I assumed it was just about running.”

“Well, if there’s more than one of you, and you guys don’t really care about each other, escaping is simply running faster than the others,” Claud replied. “Only really useful if the others are people you don’t care about, though.”

“So not you guys.”

“Correct.” Claud yawned. “Anyway, learning to escape and to avoid enemies is a skill that will always serve you well. It’s something I highly recommend, and it would also help your other skillsets…probably.”

“Definitely can see that, yes.” Lily looked around. “Still, how does one train their ability to escape and hide?”

“Hide-and-seek…I’m just kidding.” Claud bobbed his head. “Yes, it’s rather hard to do that. The psychological pressure of being hunted down is hard to replicate in a normal environment.”

He looked around the place. “Therefore, the only place to practice at would be something like a rich man’s house, or a noble’s residence. There are many small mansions in Licencia that act as holiday homes for nobles. Since there’s only a bunch of guards and nothing important in them, forcing your way in and out won’t be an issue…”

Claud got up, excitement filling his veins. “Let’s get you started.”