Men and women, dressed in the same grey robes, moved their swords around, their actions coordinated and in-sync as they moved from form to form with deliberate slowness. Eerily enough, the only thing that could be heard from such an incredible display of synchronicity was that of air parting; other than that, the entire area was deserted.

Their foreheads were lined with beads of sweat and their arms were trembling, but their merciless trainer, who was also executing some slow slashes, showed no signs of fatigue.

Dia completed another agonisingly-slow slash, and then returned her sword to her sheath. A heartbeat later, metal scraped against wood as one, and the fatigued trainees, who had been completing sword forms as one entity, fell apart and collapsed onto the ground in a variety of ways.

Her lips twitched at that sight, but she didn’t rebuke them.

After all, not everyone could hold a training sword that weighed five kilograms with ease, especially in one hand. The people she was training right now were already the cream of the crop in that sense; they were highly motivated individuals who signed up to become the Moon Guards. Rebuking them was nothing short of idiocy; it would just detract from their motivation.

“Not bad, everyone,” Dia spoke. “Today’s exercise is complete. Go back, get some rest, and then use your own swords to feel your increase in strength…after you guys find enough strength to get up first.”

The others replied by groaning together.

Dia’s lips twitched once more. The table a few metres behind her creaked in protest as she placed her own training sword on it. It was a hundred and ten kilograms; a one-folder’s training apparatus had to be far heavier if the user wanted to see results.

Of course, if she wasn’t channelling mana throughout her body, Dia would never be able to lift that sword up either. The only reason why Dia used such a sword was to hone her mana control while maintaining her bodily strength; the concept of being efficient during training was crucial to growing stronger in a short period of time.

Massaging her right arm, Dia appraised her clothes, nodding with satisfaction when she noted that there wasn’t any trace of sweat. In return, however, her body felt somewhat hot, but that wasn’t anything a good cold glass of apple juice couldn’t deal with.

Leaving behind a bunch of tired fellows, she headed towards Moon Mansion. The training of the Moon Guards was done at the mansion’s backyard, which was far enough that the sounds of sparring and grunting wouldn’t disturb Risti and Schwarz, who were handling the issue of intelligence.

A few days had passed since the Shadows of Grandis had attacked her, and in that time, the Moon Lords — with the help of Farah — had officially been allocated positions. The reason why she was training a bunch of people earlier was due to her role in the Moon Lords; she was the captain of the Moon Guards, a highly-skilled private force (theoretically, anyway) that was essential to the operation of the Moon Lords.

Pushing the door to Moon Mansion open, she cast a glance at two people, who were sitting around a round table large enough for ten people. The fine mahogany glinted as she took a seat around the table, and Dia leaned back on the chair, her eyes closed.

“Hello, Dia,” said the bartender. “How was your training?”

“Easy as usual.” Dia opened one eye, took in the sight of a mountain of papers, and then closed it as fast as possible. “You chose a very motivated bunch of people.”

“Well, the Moon Guards draw quite a lot of gold,” said Schwarz. “Still, I can’t believe the countess is actually this skilled at running things.”

“It’s unbelievable, rather.” Risti giggled. “That greatsword of hers made me think she was the muscle-headed type, especially considering how high-and-mighty she was a week or two ago.”

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“First impressions can be deceiving,” Dia replied, before opening her eyes. “Right, master. One apple juice.”

“Like I said, I’m not at work now.” Rolling his eyes, Schwarz produced a small bottle from nowhere and slid it to Dia. “Right, if you want the good stuff, better raid Claud’s house. I’ve been delivering the best stock I have over to his place for the past few days.”

Dia decided to ignore the bartender, who was clearly egging her on to break into that fellow’s house to steal drinks. After downing the silky-smooth drink, she let out a contented sigh and said, “Anything interesting today?”

“Well, there’s been reports of a three-headed snake running around the area in anger,” said Risti, who was pouring over papers with Schwarz. “One of its heads are dead, though.”

“So…a two-headed snake?” Dia asked.

“No, it’s a three-headed one, minus one head.”

Dia had a feeling that this conversation would continue on for an hour if she insisted on her terminology, so she decided not to press that matter. “So, what’s the deal with that three-headed snake?”

“It’s a tri-folder.”

For some reason, Dia felt that she had lost a battle that was simultaneously of great and little importance at the same time. Shaking herself mentally, she pressed on and asked, “What about it?”

“Well, it seems that a spear-user had attacked it,” said Risti, who was clearly pleased with the effect of her earlier sentence. “Reports state that there’s a rather intricate spear stuck on the dead head. Seems to be an artefact too, but for obvious reasons, no one dares to take it.”

“Who’s the culprit?”

“Well, it’s someone that has been rather famous recently,” said Schwarz. “A certain spear-user who fell from the sky after provoking a monster from the third Godsfall. Bugger fell out with Count Nightfall after he came to blows with the Shadows of Grandis, and then he left the city.”

“Oh.”

“Breaking news, he’s coming back.” Schwarz chuckled. “With the snake on his tail. As a tetra-folder, he has the ability to lose that snake anytime, but it seems that the Spear of Fate’s as hot-tempered as ever.”

“Is it going to affect us?” Dia asked, worried.

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

“Is there anything we can do about it?”

“We can take a leaf out of Claud’s book and stay out of trouble,” Schwarz replied. “Just sit tight and let the big uns fight it out. We’ll stay here and sip elegantly at glasses of apple juice. After the dust blows over, we’ll take our share of the profits.”

“Don’t look at us like that,” said Risti. “That’s Farah’s plan.”

“Okay, got it.”

The countess was in charge of organising small things and making big moves; that was her specialisation. To be honest, Dia had the feeling that having her here was doing a disservice towards the people of her county, but as it turned out, the contract that bound her to the Moon Lords granted her one-fifth of the Moon Lords’ overall earnings.

Farah wanted to make use of Licencia’s disproportionately strong earning power to enrich her own territory, and from the recent luxury foods they were enjoying, it looked like her plan was well underway. It was a pity that Count Nightfall wasn’t expecting a countess to take over Licencia’s criminal underground, and Dia had a feeling that by the time he noticed something was amiss, it would be too late.

“Any other interesting news?”

“Duke Istrel is planning on reshuffling the territories and their ownership after he takes over the position of Ruler,” Risti said. “We’ve received lots of news regarding his personal guards and family; the highly-regarded children of his have already moved to take over the territories under Ruler Umbra’s control.”

“He’s consolidating power, in other words,” said the bartender. “Nothing to do with us, but the other dukes aren’t going to roll over and let him take them.”

“War?”

“Yes. Lustre and Schwa are mobilising their troops as we speak. The moment Duke Istrel becomes Ruler Istrel, war is going to break out. And, from the looks of it, the new Ruler Istrel will have support from Emperor Grandis,” Schwarz stated. “It will be a bloody war.”

Dia felt her heart clench up in worry. Her father, Duke Lustre, was probably going to take to the battlefield, if something like this really happened. However, he was old…too old for that.

“Is there anything we could do to influence this war?” Dia asked.

Risti frowned for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “Right, the princess’ father is Duke Lustre. Since you were chosen as her double, you must know Duke Lustre. Maybe as a surrogate father?”

Resisting the urge to rebut her nonsensical explanation, Dia nodded. There was no point in trying to convince Risti, who had gone so far down the rabbit hole regarding her ‘doubles theory’, so she decided to roll with it.

“It’s not impossible,” said Risti, “but if you intend to influence the war on a scale significant enough to tilt the war into Duke Lustre’s favour—”

“Economic warfare will be the only way,” completed another voice.

Everyone turned to look at Countess Farah.

“You have a plan?”

“I have one,” the countess replied. “But...on the condition that four-tenths of the profits made goes to me. What say you?”