Dia wanted to cry for her father as the chilling sight of the familiar spirit’s head, which was twisted, stretching and cracking, entered her eyes. The desire to just scream and throw some holy item at him — preferably the Black God’s holy symbol or Holy Son — was overpowering, and Dia found herself reaching out to the suspended Nero.

Her fear vanished a moment later. While she couldn’t defeat the familiar spirit on her own, she had two immense trump cards. If push came to shove, she could resist the enemy for the time being, while the others used their trump cards and fled. They were within Moon territory; as long as she brought some time…

Schwarz patted her shoulders heavily and turned to the familiar spirit, his hands trembling the whole time. For a moment, Dia thought that he had frozen on the spot, but after a few seconds, she realised that the bartender was also too terrified of this odd sight to actually speak properly.

The familiar spirit cackled, the sound making her skin crawl. “So, do you people know anything about Holy Son Mendas? It sure seems like it, yes?”

Risti glided forward, waved her hands once, and formed a barrier that contained only her and the familiar spirit. The others immediately jerked in alarm, but Dia forcibly cleared her throat.

“She’s fine,” Dia cut in, before they could do anything. “It’s just an isolation barrier for speech.”

“Isolating speech?” Schwarz’s face flickered, and he regained a measure of confidence as he turned away from the grotesque sight of the creepy-ass familiar spirit. “Why?”

Dia’s mind raced. “Presumably because she’s going to bring out some really problematic secrets that would blow our minds if we heard it.”

“How would she even have such secrets?” Farah asked. “I mean, if she can hold these things in her mind, I’d expect us here to do the same, right?”

The only response Dia had for that was a non-committal shrug. To give any detailed answer was to hint at her involvement in all this, and while those two fellows were right in that they definitely could know about Limbo, there was probably a darn good reason why Farah and Risti had chosen to keep it under wraps. In fact, if it wasn’t for her and Nightfall’s involvement in hunting down the First, they would never have known all this at all.

“Who knows?” Schwarz replied. “Besides, even if she wants to keep a secret, that’s perfectly fair. Everyone has their own secrets, right? Just because we’re good friends that rule Licencia’s underworld together doesn’t mean we need to share everything.”

“Point.” Farah bobbed her head.

Noting down those words, Dia turned back to Nero. For now, the danger of the Red God had passed; people who knew about Limbo like them had been given a pass of sorts. Given that it was one of the Coloured Gods who had pleaded for the Watchers to be spared from the mess that was the Last Godsfall, the familiar spirit was unlikely to strike at them.

Probably, anyway. However, for safety’s sake, Dia wasn’t going to trust these words easily.

Turning back to Nero, Dia cleared her throat and said, “Let’s continue to rouse him with good food and—”

Another pulse of power erupted out of Nero before she could continue her sentence, and the offerings that had been used to bait Nero abruptly soared up into the sky. The Holy Son of the Black God shivered once, and black concentric circles appeared around him, spilling out black light that contended against the white moon’s own.

“Thanks for trying to bait me, jerks.” Nero raised his hand once, and then landed on the ground. Black light continued to spill out of him steadily, before forming into something like a long robe. “But thanks.”

“Let’s put that aside for a moment,” Dia hurriedly replied. “Risti…”

“I’ll go head him off for now,” Nero replied, walking directly into the barrier. His approach did not go unnoticed by both the familiar spirit and Risti, but none of them made any moves to stop him. In silence, he joined the discussion, leaving Dia and the others outside hanging.

“You know, I half-expected the discussion to end when Nero walked into that barrier, but…” Schwarz made a face. “I’ll go make more drinks for him first. Seems like it’ll take some time.”

“I’ll do some cooking. Dia, you stand guard here and prepare to attack if the familiar spirit does anything wrong,” Farah added.

“Do you even hear what you’re saying?” Dia muttered. “Me, attack? You insane?”

Rolling her eyes at Farah, Dia decided to stay and remain as a neutral observer in this conversation. It was possible that the familiar spirit would attempt to use some sort of method to subvert their wills or something, so she also took out a few Area Cleanse skillsticks, which Schwarz had procured from Caroline when they left. If they showed odd behaviours inside, Dia would immediately snap the skillstick and restore them to their original states.

Other than that, however, Dia did not dare to show any overt aggression. Even if she too had the protection that came with being a Watcher, there were two others that were innocent. The Coloured God that had extended them protection wouldn’t blink an eye if Schwarz and Farah were killed.

Discretion was necessary. This was an enemy that could not be overcome with brute force.

She began to understand why Farah had told her to stand guard here. It would seem that the countess didn’t trust herself to not make any rash moves, choosing to delegate that particularly hard task to the bodyguard and double of “Princess Dia”.

Sighing, Dia entertained herself by imagining what Farah’s face would be like if she ever revealed the truth.

The discussion went on all the way until dawn. Dia, who had the opportunity to survey their conversation closely, found herself amused by the changes in everyone’s expression. The familiar spirit of the Red God had returned to normal and was even treating the two of them with a measure of respect. Of course, Dia harboured no illusions about who the familiar spirit was showing respect to, and more importantly, such an expression would not have been possible if Nero had spilled the beans.

The Holy Son of the Black God and the daughter of the Folder Association’s President were quite the formidable liars. Of course, the familiar spirit probably didn’t dare to throw down the gauntlet, what with the Moons descending in advance, so…

Was this a formality? Just to give the God of Precision an explanation? However, this would definitely go against the Red God’s interests. If the familiar spirit really took their explanation at face value, then this could only indicate that the familiar spirit wasn’t the most loyal of the lot.

Dia folded her arms as that interesting thought flitted into her head, but she didn’t dare to think too deeply about its repercussions. Instead, she stilled her face and watched as the white moon dipped beneath the horizon.

At the same time, the barrier vanished, and the two speakers who had been busy beguiling the familiar spirit of the Red God — or playing along with him — walked over to Dia. The familiar spirit himself had vanished, turning into red mist that headed north.

“It’s over?”

“We explained to him the ins and outs of the whole thing,” Risti replied quietly. “He accepted the explanation.”

“It was a satisfactory one,” Nero added, his words ambiguous. “Let us not speak of this any further, however. The only reason why he backed down was due to my…awakening.”

“Awakening?”

Nero chuckled. “Hehe. You’ll see. Anyway…I’m famished.”

“Right, the others were talking about making food and drinks for you,” Dia replied. “It’s nearly dawn, though.”

The three of them traipsed back to the base, where two asleep fellows were sitting in front of a few plates filled with food. Dia found the sight of Farah and Schwarz leaning against each other quite adorable, so she simply raised a finger to her lips and motioned at the plates.

The others got the message immediately, and after a while, the three of them had moved outside. It was more convenient for them too; those two were entirely unaware of Limbo to begin with.

“Did you two speak about Limbo?” Dia asked, eyeing the sliced pieces of meat.

“Yeah.” Nero grinned. “His face blanched once he realised that the two of us were part of that group,, and his attitude did a nice shift. After a while, we explained that Holy Son Mendas had been injured by that unknown assailant during a ritual, which subsequently opened him to corruption.”

“Tut tut. A Holy Son corrupted.”

Dia looked at the two of them, who were behaving like they had absolutely nothing to do with it, and then played along. A key word had been thrown out for her, after all, and she ran with it.

“That unknown assailant…I wonder who it is.” Dia bobbed her head. “Someone strong.”

“A folk hero operating in the Istrel Sovereignty?” Risti chuckled. “Isn’t there one?”

“Tot?”

“Has to be him, right?”

Dia looked at the two people and wondered how they could frame someone without looking guilty at all. This was probably a talent of talents, if nothing else…