Strolling through the impromptu street of stalls, Dia and Farah munched on all kinds of bread and toasted bread, as well as other assorted pastries. Other than food, there were also things like game booths for the children and those who were young at heart.

There were a lot of booths that catered towards ball-tossing and slingshots, however, and Dia couldn’t help but ask the countess why.

“It’s quite simple, really. Since our territory is more geared towards simple farming, hunting really isn’t a thing,” Farah replied. “And besides, hunting requires natural forests; such things don’t really exist in Farah County save for a single area.”

“That sounds surreal.”

“It is surreal,” Farah replied. “Didn’t you notice that our dishes and our culinary specialties generally do not include much meat? That’s because there aren’t much in the way of monsters or animals in our territory. We’re mostly plant eaters, and when it comes to animal husbandry, we only rear cows for milk and chickens for eggs.”

“Oh.”

“We still do eat meat if the occasion warrants it, however. Or if everyone’s really peckish. But as a rule of thumb, we stick with eating moonwheat products, which are cheaper and healthier,” Farah replied.

Dia nodded along. “But is this a result of your parents abandoning the county?”

Farah glanced at her evenly, and then nodded slowly. “That’s a succinct way of putting it, yes. Back when we were still rich, my people did make it a point to import animals for slaughter and for food in general. But once I took the lead and instituted austerity measures, we eventually changed our palate to that of moonwheat products. In fact, some of the children have never tasted meat before.”

Blinking twice, Dia looked around at the children playing with each other. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Farah sidestepped a screaming child, fleeing from another, equally loud child. “But that doesn’t make them any less feisty, apparently.”

Watching as the two children dashed off into the distance, Dia nodded, a smile on her face. “Children will always be children, it seems. Still, how about traders and merchants? Do they need to go a few days without meat?”

“The unprepared ones do, yes. But a few days without meat, even for someone whose diet is generally based around meat, is never an issue,” Farah replied. “Although…I must confess — roasted meat is a great invention.”

“We have toasted bread here, so it’s not so bad,” Dia replied,

“Anyway, enough about food for now, glutton.” Farah pointed at a line of stalls and pulled her over. “Let me show you some of our cultural treasures. Every territory tends to have a special artform or a symbol, and in Farah, this is our special artform.”

Dia picked up a small metal square, where a single stalk of wheat had been engraved on it. At the crown of the little plant was a small Moon, which seemed to keep the darkness at bay. “An insignia of moonwheat, huh?”

“That’s right,” Farah replied. “In fact, if you were to pay attention to just about every piece of memorabilia from my county, you’ll probably find that there’s always a carving of moonwheat somewhere. It might be big and obvious, or it could be hidden to all but the most discerning of eyes.”

“Sounds like a treasure hunt,” Dia replied. “Looks like your county really takes pride in moonwheat.”

“Considering that it’s the key factor behind our economy, it’s really hard not to be. Besides, this entire festival was held to celebrate the harvesting of moonwheat. What else would we carve if not moonwheat? My face?”

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Dia picked up another piece of metal, and then gave it to Farah in silence. The countess stared at it in silence, and then muttered darkly under her breath.

“Seems like they do carve your face,” Dia noted, amusement dripping from her words. “How lucky.”

Farah took a deep breath. “True. I can’t criticise them for that. After all, there are many artworks and little trinkets that depict Princess Dia too. If I, a collector of such pieces, criticise my people for making pieces of me, it’s just hypocrisy.”

“…There are carvings of m—my mistress?” Dia asked.

“Duh.” Farah rolled her eyes. “What, you didn’t know?”

Dia wanted to tell Farah that she would have been better off not knowing, but there were just some things that one could never forget. Taking a deep breath, Dia said, “Well, I thought that these rumours were just exaggerated or something.”

“Moons, no. There’s a thriving industry for portraits and little drawings of nobles,” Farah replied. “Incidentally, I think this carving of me is pretty well done. I’m just going to buy one; give me a moment.”

It didn’t take long for her to make payment, and before Dia knew it, they were going through the other culture stalls. Other than moonwheat and reliefs of Countess Farah, there were also the common things like sculptures of lifestones and panoramic models of the Moons shining down upon Farah. The latter were particularly impressive; Dia had spotted a scenic piece that was five by five metres, with the three Moons hovering off the ground majestically.

“That piece…” Dia pointed at the five-by-five model.

“Don’t even think about buying that, though.” Farah folded her arms. “This piece was a piece left behind by Sir Agni; it’s actually a showcase rather than a stall.”

“Sir Agni, eh?” Dia noted that name down. Farah had mentioned this person more than once; it was clear that she felt indebted to this particular official of the Emperor.

“Yeah. We owe him quite a debt,” Farah replied. “But he hasn’t been here ever since. Maybe, when we’re stronger, I’ll travel to Grandia and look for him to pay my respects. My people and I owe him a great deal, after all.”

“Maybe after this war is over, then,” Dia replied. “And it’s possible that he might come down to check on things once this inter-dukedom war is over, right?”

“I won’t put too much stock in that.”

The two left the cultural area and headed to the last area of this impromptu festival, which was a stage. Right now, two people were battling it out with wooden swords, and Dia felt her blood heat up.

“A competition?” Dia asked.

“Seems like it.” Farah tilted her head. “Lloyd was the one who handed the event registration, so I’m not really sure.”

Under the flickering, orange light of the torches, the two shadows struck out at each other over and over again, parrying their foes’ strikes with imperfect movements. Dia watched the fight for a few seconds, and then felt bored. Even Farah could do a better job with a greatsword, but mercifully enough, both of them weren’t that skilled that a fight would drag out.

As a sword clattered off-stage, Farah turned to Dia. “That was bad.”

“Yeah, it was,” Dia replied. “I hope these two weren’t the best mercenaries here, or else you really need to consider hiring some instructors.”

“You do know that you’re expected to console me, right?” Farah rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever. I guess you’re bored, though. The standards of my mercenaries and soldiers aren’t really all that high, so don’t feel bad about being bored.”

“There’s nothing wrong about being bored,” Dia replied, waving her hand airily. “Better to be bored than to be busy with—”

At that moment, shrieks and screams filled the air, cutting off her words.

“Murder!”

“Someone’s dead!”

“There’s a monster! Be careful!”

As a ripple ran through the crowd, Dia held her head. “You have got to be kidding me. A murder? A monster?”

“Enough nonsense,” Farah replied. “Follow me. It’s uncommon, but since we don’t really have much in the way of walls and other defences, monsters do show up. Bad luck happens once in a while, and in this darkness…”

She shook her head. “Follow me.”

The two of them broke into a sprint, tracking down the source of the scream. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the murder scene, which was already chaotic. Three guards, armed with polearms, were driving a shadowy, wolf-like monster, forcing it back with coordinated jabs.

A body, dressed in the uniform of the Farah city guards, lay face down on the ground. A huge chunk of his neck had been ripped out, the source of the blood pooling beneath his body.

Dia felt her stomach churn, but before she could say anything, mana had rippled out of Farah.

“Come, Delphinus.” Farah’s words, low and deadly, echoed through the air, and a greatsword appeared in the countess’ hand. The fearful crowd rippled once more, but before they could utter anything beyond a cry of surprise, Farah reappeared before the shadowy wolf, leaving glowing afterimages in her wake.

Clad in a blinding sheen of mana, Farah brought down the greatsword, slicing the shadowy monster into two. The ground cracked where the sword landed, and a small shockwave of dust and wind whipped outwards from where it landed.

The monster fell apart a moment later, sliced into two by Farah’s maximum output of mana.