“Sub-folders, eh?”

Claud found himself talking about that particular topic as they left the Nightfall Palace. Since it was the theorised bare minimum to protect oneself from being affected by that skill, which everyone else had tentatively named ‘Enhanced Domination’, he was naturally the most interested in making sure that he and the others weren’t going to be affected by it.

Incidentally, Claud didn’t suggest his own chosen name for that skill because he didn’t want to paint himself as a target. If, on the off-chance, someone knew about the existence of such skills and their full name, which could very well be in the pattern of ‘Absolute X’, he would be in trouble.

It was possible that this skill of his, and that of Enhanced Domination, was actually part of a series. Some skills came in a series; Dia, for instance, apparently had a whole line of “Sword X’ skills. Given that his own Absolute One had just recently morphed into a form similar to that of ‘ThBoD:A???’, it was very likely that they were related.

“Never heard of them,” Schwarz replied, a doubtful look on his face.

“Really?” Lily asked. “I thought you were lying about it earlier, but you don’t actually know about them?”

“To begin with, being a sub-folder is really convenient,” Claud replied. “I spoke to Dia about this before, and she was also equally confused as to why there weren’t all that many sub-folders roaming the streets. You would think that everyone would at least try for the Mana Manipulation skill, right?”

“It’s not as convenient as it sounds, though,” Lily replied. “Ten years of your life, and you have to lose a skill that has accompanied you up until then. It’s probably more useful for people who were hoping to become mages, but that requires a certain level of education.”

“Education?” Claud asked.

“Yeah. Specialised ones, not the compulsory ones you see here,” Lily replied. “And they can’t match up to legitimate folders at all. Ten of them can’t even beat a normal folder.”

“You dismiss them so easily…”

“They don’t play a particularly special role in society,” Lily replied. “Sure, they can also play a part in ritual magic, like folders, but I would rather have ten one-folders focusing on evoking ritual magic than a hundred sub-folders. The chances of error are far lower, and the former is harder to kill.”

“Is that so?” Claud frowned. “I was actually thinking of making all the guards of Moon Mansion into sub-folders.”

“By asking them to burn their own life?” Lily asked.

“I mean, there are enough low-rank lifestones from my earlier run to make a bunch of them,” Claud replied. “And none of us need low-rank lifestones anymore, including Schwarz himself. I don’t see why we can’t give them out and make a bunch of sub-folders.”

“I thought you wanted to sell them,” Lily replied. “You know, to ease our finances and everything?”

“True. The market price hasn’t been dropping,” Claud muttered.

“Well, someone apparently robbed Times and Banks a month or so ago,” Schwarz replied, forcing Claud to stifle an urge to twitch. “But all this talk about sub-folders have finally made me understand why they’re such a hot commodity. There’s probably people who are busy trying to make a small army of sub-folders somewhere.”

“That’s rather common for some nobles,” Lily noted. “And sub-folders are generally stronger than normal people too, so it’s not really wasted. A troop of sub-folders can be rather useful too, if they can execute ritual magic in the battlefield.”

“Should we raise some then?” Claud asked.

“Maybe.” Schwarz yawned and rubbed his stomach. “I don’t feel particularly safe, not with the knowledge that a single skill might just turned me into a puppet without will. I think it’s fair for us to extend this same protection to the people under us.”

“Sure.” Lily looked around, before nodding. “Still, Claud has a point. You’d think that there’ll be one or two sub-folders around, but so far, I haven’t seen a single one.”

“Right?”

“Maybe it’s a new development,” Lily replied. “But we don’t actually pay attention to sub-folders anyway, so maybe the city conscripted them while we weren’t paying attention.”

“That’s possible.”

The three continued to banter on until they reached Moon Mansion. An unprecedented sense of relief flooded Claud’s mind as the small booth ferried them over into the safety of the place, and he let out a sigh. That small exhalation of air was proof that Claud had been under more stress than he was aware of in that short excursion to the Nightfall Palace.

“Sure feels like there’s a weight off my shoulders,” Claud noted. “I feel great and lively all over again.”

“There’s some odd pressure in his place,” said Schwarz. “It’s my second time there, but I still feel very, very intimidated. Is that from his presence? Or was there some artefact employed to pressure my soul?”

“Most likely the former…but I feel like blowing up his palace now,” Lily muttered. “Why didn’t he restrain his mana while we were there? Was it really fun to have it press down on us or something?”

“He didn’t restrain his mana?” Claud asked, interested.

“If he did, you wouldn’t be this tired,” Lily replied. “Never mind. Anyway, he said quite a lot of things to us; from what I can tell, he probably wasn’t holding many things back. For instance—”

“You’re back,” a voice, lined with complex emotions, echoed through the air.

“Farah!” Lily ran over. “You should be in bed, not talking to us outside.”

“Getting a cold from crying is nothing short of pathetic,” Farah replied, but she accepted Lily’s support anyway. The countess had fallen ill in the days that followed the mass poisoning, clearly affected by a double whammy of what seemed like a betrayal and deaths at an event run by her. Lily and Claud had taken turns to nurse her, while Schwarz took over her duties at running the Moon Lords’ finances.

“Doesn’t mean you can ignore it, though.” Claud folded his arm. “Still, I don’t think I can convince you to have a debriefing in your room, so let’s do it around the table instead. I sweated enough to fill a whole cup from this visit.”

“A cup of tea does sound nice,” said Schwarz.

“Really?” Countess Farah glanced at the trio. “Alright, you guys just change to something more comfortable first. I’ll make the tea.”

“Thanks!”

Claud smiled as the countess scurried away. If he didn’t read her wrongly, the countess had probably been worried over the fact that her sudden bout of illness had made her a burden for the past few days. Giving her a small job was part and parcel of easing her back into the team.

Schwarz chuckled. “You can be very kind at times.”

“I’m usually kind, though,” Claud replied.

“I believe I used an intensifier there, though,” Schwarz replied. “I didn’t expect that you would make a move faster than me, though. Did I rub off on you? Do you want to help run Triple-D too? I think you might be great at the job.”

“That’s…actually flattering, coming from you.” Claud held his chin and pondered the matter. “Maybe, I guess. It would definitely make your customers healthier, though.”

“I’ll be doing the brewing.”

“Then what’s the point of me going there?”

“To cheer up my patrons?”

“Bah.”

“Alright, boys. Enough bickering.” Lily produced a small package. “Or I’ll stuff this down your clothes.”

Claud stared at the package and gulped. He hadn’t forgotten the mystical scene of the Julan main house shooting into the skies like a rocket. Sure, he didn’t know how many explosives Lily had used to create such a spectacle, but it was worth nothing that she had carried nothing but a small backpack and some cooking utensils when she went to Julan.

One small bomb could very well be dangerous.

“Alright,” said Claud. “We’ll stop.”

Just where did he go wrong? Or was that just Lily’s personality to begin with? Did ending her family personally unshackle those quirky bits of her character? Claud didn’t know, but he found this new facet of her to be very interesting.

“Nice. I’m going to change my clothes; you guys should too,” said Lily. “Wearing such clothes outside can be very tiring. And warm. And tiring.”

Claud heartily agreed.

Returning to his room, he took out Crown from his pocket. The little guy, as usual, had been sleeping away merrily, and as he placed it down on his bed, it rolled over — subconsciously, Claud would like to add — to his pillow.

“Sleepyhead.” Claud stared at his bed. The urge to sleep was strong, but it wouldn’t feel right to take a nap now first. “I’ll be back, Crown. The briefing won’t take too long.”

Crown burrowed into his pillow in response.