After dumping anything that looked relevant or of interest onto the dead man’s body, which included his severed arms, the four began to make the trek back to town, slinging a body between them. Dia could feel some predatory gazes aimed at their little troupe; the scent of blood had clearly drawn hungry predators over.

She didn’t care about those predators, however. From what she knew, predators in a forest rarely worked together. The environment was too individualistic for even predators of the same species to work together — perhaps, only animals like wolves do so here.

Their distinctive howls were noticeably absent, however.

“Well, at least we actually caught the murderer. Even if there aren’t clues about the murderer’s purpose and identity, we’ve solved this case. Our assignment is over and done,” said Lucid, breaking the silence. “Exthoth’s going to be really sad when he finds out about this, isn’t he?”

Haber chuckled, and the mana shrouding his form shook with it. Everyone, save for Dia, was expending their mana to create light. It was one thing to approach a target in the dark, so everyone had come to the consensus that it was better to illuminate the path ahead with mana. Given Dia’s efforts in putting out the deadly spearman down, the others didn’t ask her to do the same.

Dia had inwardly decided to act as an emergency light source, though, in case any of the others ran out.

“Yeah, he’s going to be really disappointed. Punk thought he one-upped us by having the favourable slots, but who knew that Risti’s plan was this good?”

“You flatter me, Haber.”

“I’m telling the truth, though…right, would the guards be able to verify that this man’s the killer?” Haber asked. “I wasn’t there the last time the others turned in a murderer.”

“It’s mostly circumstantial evidence for this case,” said Risti, “but there are methods to reveal someone’s skills or past actions, even if the target is dead. The latter is infinitely preferable, but if the skills revealed align with how murders occur, that’s good enough too.”

Dia made a little sound in her throat. “The former seems like it could be abused, though. Imagine someone teaching another person his or her skills, before committing crimes. The teacher” —Dia made some air quotes with her hands— “then kills the student and turns the body in. Wouldn’t that be a grave miscarriage of justice?”

“I’ve never heard of that happening, though,” Risti replied. “But…well…now that you put it that way…it does actually sound quite possible. In fact, such a person wouldn’t need to teach every single skill, right? Just the ones involved in the murders would do.”

“Exactly.”

“…I’ll write a letter home when I have time, then.”

“A letter?” Haber asked, shifting aside a vine. “What, can your family actually affect how such crimes are dealt with?”

Risti shook her head quickly. “No, of course not. I’m just, uh, sending some ideas to my father. He’s a…novelist. Plots like this would excite him a lot; he might churn out a bestseller or something.”

“I see.”

An elbow nudged Dia’s ribs lightly, courtesy of Risti, but Dia already had no intention of revealing the fact that Risti’s father was actually the biggest of big shots in the Folders’ Association. For one, it wasn’t hers to reveal, and more importantly, this wasn’t the time and place to be playing a game of ‘What’s my background’.

“Well,” said Dia, playing along, “your father really needs to put his work out there. Writing but not publishing isn’t doing him any favours. How many plots have you sent back to him? And how many books has he actually published for people to read? Less than one, for sure!”

“Right?” Risti nodded. The flickering blue light that danced around her didn’t do much to show her expressions, but Dia could tell that Risti had relaxed. “I wish he would actually publish those books…”

The two groused on for a bit, drawing Lucid into the conversation. As it turned out, the blue-haired lookalike of Hulid — which was a description that could also be attached to Haber — was an aspiring writer, but he was the kind to never get around to writing more than ten pages. Apparently, he had issues with commitment, and usually gave up on projects when he was halfway through them.

Dia didn’t expect their random fib to actually strike home, but she had read more than enough to talk about hot novels, though. She had made it a point to stock up on the latest works, and before long, she had engaged Lucid in a good long discussion about them.

Glancing at Risti, who was busy trying not to look out of her element, Dia listened to Lucid complain about the prices of novels these days and smiled. “Well, writers need to eat too, right? Not everyone can be a mercenary or a noble or a mana-user.”

“Yeah. At least Foredoomed to a Rendezvous wasn’t all that expensive, though.” Lucid shook his head. “I wonder when the next volume would release.”

“Who knows? But again, why are you complaining about the price? You’re a mana-user. A member of the Dusk Daggers, whose leader is a Named.” Dia ducked underneath a low-lying apple. “You can’t be strapped for cash.”

“Do you know how much it takes to buy blue dyes for hair?” Lucid asked. “A lot more than swords, that’s for sure.”

“You dyed your hair?” Dia asked.

“Why would you do that?” Risti chimed in. “At most, just wear a wig or use a disguise artefact!”

“Wigs are itchy, and disguise artefacts are too expensive,” Lucid replied. “Those things aren’t cheap, you know. I’d rather dye my hair every few days.”

“Disguise artefacts are far cheaper in the long run,” Risti replied. “And you can change most aspects of your appearance. Why are you making it so hard for yourself? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Go on, tell him that,” Haber replied. “He freaking doesn’t listen. Me and Exthoth keep telling him to use a disguise artefact like a normal person, but no! He says that the effort he puts in makes it all so much more worth it! While he does have a point, we aren’t all that rich…”

Dia had a feeling that he would have done the same had he the wherewithal to. More importantly, what did he mean ‘like a normal person’? Was dressing up as your idol actually normal? Dia wasn’t sure, but from how the people who played dress-up were all mana-users so far, she couldn’t quite give an answer.

Risti turned to Lucid. “You talk about the importance of effort, but I put this to you. Is discomfort not a proof of effort as well? You complain that wigs make you itch, but isn’t this itch proof of your dedication? It is fundamentally the same principle as self-flagellation, the favourite form of worship by the White God’s acolytes.”

“It is?” Lucid shook.

“Yes,” Risti replied. Dia didn’t know why she looked this animated, but she didn’t want to put one foot into this pool of crazy. As Risti chattered on, Dia was reminded that everyone she was working with right now were actually people who dressed up after their idols. Fans…or fanatics, depending on who one asked.

She turned to look at the body everyone was lugging together. Risti was holding one leg, while Dia was holding the other. With the others holding the body and the head, the dead body wasn’t a burden whatsoever, but since everyone else was talking about effort and dressing up…

“I can’t believe we still aren’t out — oh.” The forest came to an end as Dia muttered those words, but no one seemed to care about that fact. The three fanatics were now busily discussing what was the best way to show devotion, and the more Dia heard, the more she wanted to faint.

For better or worse, however, Dia maintained an iron grip on her consciousness. Trudging along with the body, Dia endured the increasingly-ridiculous things these people were saying and followed them to the city gates. Fortunately, the three came to their senses as they closed in, and the disturbing conversation came to an end.

“Finally!” Dia let out a long sigh, placing so much emphasis on that particular word that the others eyed her. “What? We’re at the city gates now. Finally. I can’t wait to clean myself off and sleep. Do you think the guards would let us borrow their hygiene artefacts?”

And that conversation of crazy, Dia added in her mind. I really need to wash that from my mind.

“Oh, right. That is true.” Haber sighed. “It’s been an enjoyable conversation, but all good things must come to an end.”

“Agreed.” Risti shook her head. “We must definitely share more pointers when we have the time.”

Dia wanted to stop them from arranging a meeting, but there was little to be done about it. On the bright side, if they had a conversation and Hulid was conscious, the Edgeless Night would probably be traumatised or something. How did the Named deal with three of his fanatics hanging around him all the time?

Or were they more reserved when they were around him?

Lucia approached them as they hung around the gate, forcing Dia to end that line of thought for now.