Within his Dome Shield artefact, Claud stayed motionless as what seemed like every single capable fighter in Licencia surged towards him. All of them stopped outside the hemisphere that surrounded him and the twitching Rodrio, their eyes glaring daggers at him.

Like little Moons.

For a moment, the master thief wanted to flee on the spot, such was the intensity of the gaze. He didn’t get why everyone was staring at him so hard — Claud could swear that he had changed his appearance and was even wearing a mask. No trace of his overpowering good looks should have remained. Therefore, why was everyone staring at him and not, say, Rodrio?

The silent crowd continued to stare at him, but Claud stayed rooted to the spot. He didn’t know if he could trust those people — anyone with a working set of eyes could see the signal he had sent out, not just the Moon Lords. The best course of action was to wait for someone he knew to arrive on the scene, before making a graceful exit.

“Coming through! Get out of the way! Official business by the Moon Lords!” A clamour came from the back of the crowd, along with the regular cadence that Claud associated with the city guards. Like water, the mass of people that had surrounded the hemisphere parted into two, revealing Schwarz and…Count Nightfall.

The count himself had arrived. It didn’t make sense for Count Nightfall to actually be here, but again, things were barely making sense nowadays. Claud didn’t have the brainpower to ruminate on unexpected changes and actions that didn’t make sense to him, so he opted to remain impassive instead.

City guards and his personal guards flanked him alike, but they were literally of no threat compared to the tri-folder in front of him. Count Nightfall, as a tri-folder, boasted of extensive physical might; it was possible that he could shatter the dome of energy around him with a punch or two. A normal human would not be able to withstand such an attack…in fact, Claud had a feeling that as he was right now, an unblocked attack would turn him into mush.

Claud could feel a faint oppression radiating off his youthful countenance, in stark defiance of his ordinary looks. It wasn’t all that much compared to Zulan Patra’s presence, though, and Claud ignored the towering presence to look at the count directly.

“Who are you?” Schwarz took a step forward and asked.

“A, uh, passing passer-by who helped at someone’s request. This person here was the one that fled from the charity event that led to the poisoning of quite a few people,” Claud replied, his voice extra-gravelly.

“Where’s Claud, then?”

“We split up,” Claud replied. “Fair warning. This man seems to be…odd in the mind. It would be better to restrain him or something; he knows not pain or fear.”

At those words, Claud deactivated his Dome Shield artefact.

“Friend,” said Count Nightfall, “I would like to invite you to my palace for—”

“My apologies, Count Nightfall,” Claud replied, making sure to add as much subtle posing as possible into his words and tone. The more overbearing he seemed here, the less likely anyone would suspect him. More importantly, he was planning on never using this persona again, so being arrogant here wasn’t going to bite him…probably.

“I see.”

“Allow me to take my leave, then.” Activating both Absolute One and Flight, Claud dumped his infinite mana into the latter’s spiritual structure. A thunderclap followed as he shot up into the skies, stirring up a huge cloud of dust in his wake.

In the opening moments of his incredible ascent, Claud activated his Presence Nullification, before cutting off his ascent by turning sharply. With a control that could only be borne from years of training, he touched down in a nearby alleyway

The alley was dank and stank of all kinds of human waste, but Claud didn’t quite care for that right now. Removing his mask and the cloak that had covered his clothes earlier, Claud folded the latter up and stuffed both items together, in his shirt.

Fortunately, the cloak was made of a thin fabric, which meant that no one would notice it unless they were as observant as Claud himself. Once done, Claud reverted his identification factors to his default, semi-disguised state, before tapping a random drunk on the back to dispel his Presence Nullification.

All these had been done in less than a minute. There was a very good reason for his rush — he did not want to be outed as the person who left earlier. If less than a minute separated his persona’s departure and his arrival, no one would suspect him of anything whatsoever. The less people thought of him, the better.

Breaking into a run, Claud returned to the alleyway in which he had fought Rodrio in. The crowd of warriors were still milling around the area curiously, but Schwarz waved at him before he could slip into the crowd, forcing Claud to approach him.

Count Nightfall glanced at Claud a moment later. At the same time, his personal guards took up a wary stance — clearly, none of them actually knew who he was, at least by appearance.

“He’s one of ours,” Schwarz stepped in. “Count Nightfall, this is one of the Moon Lords’ leaders, Claud Primus.”

“I am flattered to be in your presence, Count Nightfall.”

Claud didn’t extend his hand, however. He didn’t know what proper etiquette for meeting nobles were like, and he had a feeling that Lily and Farah had been very informal when it came to talking.

Count Nightfall chuckled, and the master thief felt his spirit lift. Few things were more effective than flattery; it would seem that this axiom still held even for a tri-folder and a noble to boot. With some luck, the count might just consider him to be a sycophant or something, and therefore assume that he was some small fry.

Which he was, in the grand scheme of things. However, Claud knew that in the City of Trades, he was considered half a bigshot or something, but if he played his cards right, the count shouldn’t think all that much of him.

“I’ve heard witness testimony about the sordid affair at your gates,” said Count Nightfall. “This is…unfortunate, to say the least. However, judging from the state of the culprit, it would seem that there are other forces at work.”

“Other forces?” the bartender asked.

“Yes. Other forces.” Count Nightfall narrowed his eyes. “This person…seems to be under a very strong mental compulsion. His will has been completely overridden, replaced with a staunch fanaticism.”

“How do you know that?” Schwarz asked, his words quiet. “And how can we guard against it?”

“That’s a very good question.” The count narrowed his eyes. “For something like this to happen so close to Ruler Istrel’s investiture…this does not look good. I believe that my investigations will make this even clearer in the days to come. Schwarz.”

“Yes?”

It was odd to see the bartender being so direct in his speech, but maybe that was what the count liked. Either way, Claud played his part as a pebble excellently, putting in his absolute best to look very unimportant.

“I’ll be taking this…person back,” said the count. “Rest assured, master, that I will make a public announcement to absolve you and your people of any crimes.”

From how Count Nightfall called him ‘master’, Claud knew that the count was apparently now a patron of the bartender’s pub, although what Night saw in those overly-potent drinks was beyond Claud’s comprehension.

“He’s that important?” Schwarz asked.

The count smiled, and for a moment, Claud could swear that flowers bloomed all around him. The hallucination vanished after he shook his head, but the dumbstruck looks from everyone else around him probably meant that those flowers weren’t a trick of the mind.

“V-very well, then.” The bartender cleared his throat. “You can have him…although I at least want to know what exactly caused Rodrio to become like this. I will not stand by and let my employees be harmed.”

“Huh.” Count Nightfall furrowed his brows briefly, as if he was confused by something, and then relaxed. “Very well. I will invite you and anyone else you deem of importance to my palace three days from now. Is that acceptable?”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“It is the least I should do,” the count replied. “And besides, I fear that you and your people will play an integral part in the years to come. Best for me to prepare you for it. I will be leaving now. A messenger bearing my invitation will come by tomorrow morning, latest.”

With that, the count took to the skies before Claud or Schwarz could ask him about his ominous parting words. At the same time, his personal guards picked the unmoving Rodrio up by the limbs, ferrying him away into depths unknown.

The two men glanced at each other, and then at the crowd.

“Brave warriors of Licencia,” said Schwarz, raising his voice, “thank you for coming to my summons. By way of thanks, I hereby invite you to my establishment, Triple-D…where a round of drinks will be on the house.”

Amidst the roars and cheers, Claud found himself deep in contemplation.

It would seem that trouble was coming.