A day came and went, and as the good old sun drove away the deep, misty darkness around the Farah Palace, Dia picked up a meatball — yes, meatballs had been served for every mealtime since yesterday morning — and popped it into her mouth.

“Thankfully, it’s served as steamed meatballs,” Dia commented idly. “Having them fried all day was taking a mental toll on me.”

“But steamed meatballs and sauce dips don’t go well together,” said her aunt, who was using mana to feed herself with meatballs. “I prefer fried ones.”

“We ran out of sauce last night,” Farah replied, her eyes falling on the Lamenter of Sorrowful Partings. “I don’t think I need to tell anyone present the reason why, no?”

“I paid five gold for them,” Dia’s aunt replied. “I think that’s around a hundred times the actual value, but of course, if you want the sauce back…”

The countess chuckled. “I’m just kidding, of course. That said, my territory needs more gold. Building a stone wall to prevent monsters from lingering in has taken its toll on my territory’s finances. If someone like you could extend some help, we’ll be eternally grateful.”

“You…can be rather shameless,” said Lumine.

“For my people, I can be anything. Heck, I’m a boss of Licencia’s underground world, in complete defiance of my station and position. Asking someone for a bit of their cash isn’t that much of an issue to me,” said Farah.

“You are a very odd person, do you know that?” Lumine folded her arms. “Fine. Say I invest four platinum in your—”

“P-P-P-Platinum?” Farah gulped.

“Yeah. Forty thousand gold. That’s a lot of money. How will you use it? And you better not tell me that you’re going to buy artefacts with it.” Lumine glanced at Dia, who looked away immediately. “

“There are some areas in which we need funding for,” said Farah. “For instance, we have a few wheat mills that are in urgent need of repairs, and…”

Dia’s mouth fell open as the two of them actually engaged in discussions about funding and territorial needs over breakfast. She had assumed that her aunt was just patronising Farah with that proposal of hers, but from the looks of it…

Wiping away a bead of imaginary sweat, Dia finished off her little bowl of meatball soup. The two of them were seriously discussing the issue of investment, and she didn’t want to disturb them. After all, Farah really needed the money, and it would be a problem if her continued presence here stopped any deal from going down.

After pondering for a moment, she headed back to her guest room. Farah was going to return to Licencia once Ruler Istrel completed his visit to Farah County, since it was the best place to earn money for now. Therefore, it would make sense to start packing slowly, rather than treating it as a last-minute effort.

Besides, she had nothing to do. Practicing her sword didn’t sound like a good idea, since her training blade was at home. Her real sword would be too dangerous to swing around, which meant that the only thing she could do was—

“Right,” Dia muttered. “I forgot about my footwork.”

She had created a set of steps when journeying out with Risti. After she returned to Licencia, she practiced it occasionally, but since there wasn’t a chance for her to use it for real, Dia had eventually forgotten about it. And when the chance came — when she was fighting with the monster bear — she had instinctively defaulted to using guidance from her Sword Dance.

Life was just hard at times.

Shaking her head, she tossed some stray odds and ends into her bag, and then went into the palace garden. It wasn’t a big place, but there was definitely more than enough space for her to practice some footwork.

The light of the rising sun created a pleasant atmosphere, and as Dia continued to work out a standard map of steps for herself, she couldn’t help but feel that she was actually making progress in her work. Of course, what really mattered was that this was a set of light steps designed to be used with mana; if everything came together, she would be able to replicate the effects of Sword Dance with her physical body and mana alone, while being so light on her feet to the point that stepping on ants wouldn’t kill those guys.

Minutes turned into hours, but before noon, Dia found herself stopping. Her mana had been depleted from all that practice, but as things stood, she now had a better way of moving around, without relying on bursts of mana to jolt her body around.

To begin with, forcing out mana to jolt herself around was a very wasteful act, which was why no one rarely used it much. Furthermore, there was a substantial risk to sustaining damage, since the body wasn’t meant to be pushed around at high speeds.

Either way, however, a movement technique that could replace explosive bursts of mana had been born. It would take decades of hard work to improve and master it, but the fact that it existed was already a joyous enough moment.

“Well, it’s about time I wrapped up anyway,” said Dia. “The investiture is about to begin, after all.”

Activating her Refresher, she returned to the palace and made her way to the dining hall, where the others were already waiting. Istrel’s official inauguration as Ruler Istrel would begin at the stroke of noon, and everyone throughout Grandis had been warned to stop whatever they were doing.

In the depths of Grandia, the continent capital, a massive ritual spell was probably already underway. That ritual spell, courtesy of the Church of the Black God, was already beginning to have an effect on Dia’s mind, and the same woozy look began to surface on the faces of everyone present.

A litany surfaced in Dia’s ears at that moment. “…holy of holies, the great god Origo, he who touches upon the landscape of the mind. Us, your faithful, seek your help in our time of need, and plead that you bestow upon us the miracle of connecting thoughts. O Lord, your will is mine. Let our devotion shine everlasting. Let our hope stand tall. Let our faith take form…”

The chant continued on, unabated, and Dia felt darkness lap away at the edge of her mind. Strength fled her body as she slumped back onto the back of her chair, the words growing in volume and intensity the whole time.

“Link the thoughts of the people. Display the strength of the heart. Call forth the landscape of the mind. Witness and behold, the Black God’s might.”

Darkness fell, as a phrase, filled with a steely strength, burst into her mind. “Theatro Animi.”

The darkness fled, and a grand hall, one that resembled Lustre’s Grand Harmony, appeared in her vision. A comforting chill touched her shoulders a moment later, and Dia breathed in sharply as she took in the fact that she was wearing a ball gown. A mask adorned her face for some reason, its presence reassuring.

“We’re…”

“In the Black God’s ritual spell, the spell that links all minds,” said a voice beside her. “The gown looks good on you, but I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“Aunt?”

A figure clad in white from head to toe stepped into her line of sight. “That’s me. And Farah’s to your left.”

“Where are we?” Farah, who was wearing a suit of armour for some really odd reason, looked around and asked. “Also, nice gown, Dia. Something the princess gave you?”

Dia looked at her gown, which looked like it had been made from the starry night sky, and then shrugged. It was light and thin, but no one looking at her would think that way. “Nope. Never seen it before. How does this work?”

After devoting a second to think about it, she shrugged and looked around the venue. The hall was simultaneously crowded and empty; she could see innumerable shadows all around the place, but there was a sense of distance between them. The hall itself was even more miraculous — it was so huge, and yet, the stage seemed so close to them.

“This place is a landscape of the mind,” Lumine replied. “We’re still in your palace, Farah. Don’t worry. Anyway, this ritual magic seems to have encapsulated the entire Grandis; no one can resist it, unless we’re talking about Tot or something along those lines.”

Farah took a deep breath, and then nodded slowly. “It’s like the information space the upper nobles share, isn’t it?”

“You’d be right about that,” said Lumine. “Anyway, this is an unprecedented chance for you to talk to anyone else you know. Just think of that person in your mind, and you’d be able to talk to them if they approve your request.”

“Really?” Farah’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go find your mistress, Dia!”

“No, don’t.” Dia waved her hand. “If we do that, it might be a problem. This is wholly unexpected. I — my mistress must be doing something to protect her now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Oh, right.” Farah closed her eyes for a moment. “I should tell the others to come along.”

With a pop, Risti, who was wearing something like a military uniform, appeared on the spot. The two of them glanced at everyone else, but instead of speaking, the rest of the Moon Lords and Nero appeared all around the place, and Dia found herself lost for words. Everyone’s hair colour had returned to normal; and after noting with some amusement that Lily’s hair was violet, while Risti’s hair was red, Dia shook her head.

This ritual spell had the ability to dispel disguises, apparently.

“What’s going on?” Schwarz, who was wearing a suit and tie, looked around in shock. “Why did you two pop up all of a sudden? And who’s that?”

Farah looked at Claud, who looked like he was clad in the night itself, and Lily, who was wearing a set of mourning robes like Aunt Lumine, and then cleared her throat. “Guys, relax and listen to me. We just called you over for a talk. That’s all. Dia, about her…”

“Right.” Dia jolted. “That’s my aunt. A Named tetra-folder, the Lamenter of Sorrowful Partings.”

“A tetra-folder?” Everyone’s eyes, save for Risti, went round.

“Yeah, and—”

An incredible energy rippled out from the stage, and Dia’s voice cut off.