Rokka no Yuusha - Volume 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 
The Six Braves Convene 

Adlet and Fremy advanced toward the Howling Vilelands. They walked in silence along a mountain path, where all that grew was grass that cropped up sparsely between the rocks and pebbles. According to the map, once they crossed over two more mountains, they would finally be able to see their destination. It had been six hours since they first met, and the sun was high. 
“It’s kinda hot, huh?” Adlet remarked to Fremy, who walked ahead of him. 
She didn’t reply. 
“I wonder if it’s supposed to be especially hot around here. Do you know anything about it, Fremy?” 
Unsurprisingly, no response. 
“I’ve never heard of the Saint of Gunpowder. What kind of stuff can you do?” 
“…” 
“Well, since you’re the Saint of Gunpowder, do you have any explosives? I’d be grateful if you could share some with me.” 
“…” 
“I didn’t know there was a gun that could kill fiends. Who made it?” 
Adlet made numerous attempts to talk to her in an effort to improve relations between them, even just a little bit. But each time, all he got in return was stonelike silence. He was beginning to feel annoyed. His initial impression of her lonely and ephemeral air was entirely gone. All he could see was a selfish, rude, incomprehensible woman. “Say something. Just what the hell do you take me for?” 
“A brazen, thoughtless, unmanageable idiot.” 
“Oh , so you’ll answer that question, huh?!” Adlet lost all desire to talk to her. He decided to walk mutely. 
He wondered what Nashetania was up to. He hoped she was also heading toward the Howling Vilelands. If she was looking for him, she would be late joining the rest of the group. He was also worried about having left her alone. 
“If you’re worried about Nashetania, why don’t you go back?” suggested Fremy, as if she had read his mind. 
“Nah, I’m not worried about her. At least, not as much as I am about you.” 
“Hmph ,” Fremy snorted bitterly. “I didn’t think Nashetania would be chosen. Between you and her, the Braves don’t look all that promising this time around.” 
“You’re wrong,” said Adlet. “Nashetania is immature and inexperienced, but she’s a fine warrior.” 
“You’re sure arrogant enough—you calling her immature and inexperienced.” 
“I’m the strongest man in the world. From my point of view, everyone else is inexperienced.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” she spat, and they both went silent again. 
They crossed over one mountain, and once they finished scaling the next, the Howling Vilelands would be within view. As they approached the summit, suddenly Fremy said, “Can I ask you something?” Adlet was surprised to hear her speak out of the blue. “I have a request,” she continued. 
“What is it?” 
“Eventually, we’ll end up trying to kill each other. No matter what you may think now, it will happen.” 
“No, it won’t,” Adlet insisted. 
But Fremy shook her head. “Please. When the time comes, go easy on me. Even if you end up taking me down, don’t finish me off.” 
“What kind of request is that? I’d rather hear you ask to fight together.” 
“I figured you would be willing to listen to a small request like this one.” 
“…” 
“I can’t afford to die. Not until I defeat the Evil God with my own two hands.” That was all Fremy said before she stopped talking. Adlet couldn’t say anything else after that, either. 
I can’t afford to die. She had uttered those words determinedly. But behind them, Adlet had also sensed indescribable sadness. He thought of Nashetania. Being with her cheered him up—but being with Fremy was emotionally painful, like something was pressing on his chest. 
“That’s the Howling Vilelands,” said Adlet. 
The two of them arrived at the summit of the mountain; before them lay a sprawling landscape. Woodlands extended from the foot of the mountain to the sea, and a thin, twisting road pierced through the center of the forest. Beyond it lay the black sea. Projecting out into the sea was the Balca Peninsula, otherwise known as the Howling Vilelands, the territory where the fiends and the Evil God lurked. 
Adlet pointed at the root of the peninsula and said, “We’re meeting up there, where the continent and the peninsula converge.” 
“You are,” Fremy replied. 
They couldn’t see the full expansion of the region very well from their position. The land was covered in rugged hills dotted sparsely with forests and brush. Strangely, the entire peninsula was stained pitch-black. 
“Wow, that color,” said Adlet. “So that’s the Evil God’s poison, huh?” 
The Howling Vilelands were filled with a unique toxin that the Evil God exuded from its body. It had no effect on any living thing other than humans, but if a human touched it, death was certain in about a day. There was only one way to neutralize the poison: to be chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers and receive the divine protection of the Spirit of Fate. As long as the Evil God’s poison was present, only the six Braves were capable of approaching. If it weren’t for that, there would be no need for the six of them to attack alone. 
“So what will you do?” asked Fremy. “I don’t want to encounter the other Braves.” 
Adlet pointed at the foot of the mountain and said, “I’m a little curious about that fort.” There was a small stronghold there. It appeared partially destroyed, and there was smoke rising from it. 
The two of them descended the mountain and arrived at the fort. It was damaged, but it seemed there were still people inside. Fremy pulled her hood over her head, hid the crest on her left hand, and stayed alert to her surroundings. Adlet found a soldier sitting in the archer’s tower. 
“If there are any Braves in there, I’m running,” said Fremy. 
“I understand.” Adlet nodded, then called out to the soldier on watch duty. “Excuse me! Are any Braves of the Six Flowers in here?” 
The soldier replied, “No, they came two days ago, but they’ve already set off! Who are you?” 
Adlet exchanged looks with Fremy. It seemed okay for now to go in. “Adlet Mayer. I’m one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. This girl is…well, don’t worry about it.” 
Although he looked puzzled, the soldier descended from the watchtower and opened the gate. Adlet and Fremy entered the fort, and Adlet showed the soldier the crest that proved he was one of the six Braves. 
“I am very glad to see you, Sir Brave,” the soldier said. “There is something we absolutely must let you know. Could you please come this way?” 
“What is it?” asked Adlet. 
“It’s very important. The success of your upcoming battle depends on it.” 
Adlet glanced at Fremy. It seemed she also intended to hear what the soldier had to say. 
“Please come with me,” invited the soldier. “Oh, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Loren, private first class of the army of Gwenvaella. I am presently commanding officer at this fort.” 
“Commanding officer? You?” Adlet asked without thinking. From the soldier’s manner, Adlet could tell he was quite capable. But he was of low rank, and his equipment was meager, too. 
“Everyone is dead—the general, the captains,” he explained. “The lower-ranking troops and I are all that remain. But there is something we must protect, down to the very last man.” 
Adlet and Fremy followed Private Loren into the fort. The smell of death hung heavy inside. Human corpses and the bodies of a few fiends littered the ground. The damage was graver than it had seemed from outside. 
“This way.” Private Loren beckoned. In the center of the floor, there stood a heavy iron door, which the soldier opened to reveal a basement. Apparently, the fort had been built in order to protect this. He led them into the basement. In this small room deep in the ground, there were five soldiers. And standing by itself in the center of the room was an altar of a shape Adlet had never seen before. 
“Is this what you were protecting?” Adlet asked, pointing to the altar. 
But Private Loren shook his head. “This is a replica of what we’re here to protect. Please take a look at this map.” A map of the Howling Vilelands and its environs sat on a table in front of the altar. “The king of Gwenvaella set up a certain mechanism to help the six Braves in preparation for the revival of the Evil God. That is what we are protecting.” The soldier put his finger on the continent side of the map. “Presently, a swarm of fiends is advancing deeper into the continent, targeting the Braves of the Six Flowers. I believe you may have already encountered some. However, the moment they find out that the Braves have entered the Howling Vilelands, they will turn around and head back. Their goal is to exterminate the Braves of the Six Flowers. Nothing else matters to them.” 
“I see,” said Adlet. 
“And so, in the utmost secrecy, the king of Gwenvaella has constructed a mechanism to fence off the peninsula after the Braves of the Six Flowers have entered the Howling Vilelands,” the soldier said, pointing to the border between the Howling Vilelands and the continent. “With the help of three Saints—Fog, Illusion, and Salt—the king has readied a powerful barrier in order to prevent fiends from leaving or entering this forest. It is called the Phantasmal Barrier.” There was a large circle drawn on the map near the entrance to the Howling Vilelands, indicating the range of the barrier. 
Fiends were incapable of crossing the sea. The coast of the Howling Vilelands was incredibly rocky, so even if anyone attempted to set sail, they would have no place to dock a boat. Some fiends could fly, but they were few in number. Sealing off this circle would confine the majority of fiends within the area. 
“It’s an amazing plan,” said Adlet. “So what’s this barrier like?” 
“It prevents entry and exit,” explained Private Loren. “That is all the barrier is intended to do. When it is activated, the entire area within it will be enveloped in fog. Anyone trying to escape the fog will lose their sense of direction, and before they realize what they’re doing, they will find themselves right back inside. Conversely, anyone trying to enter will end up exiting the way they came.” 
“I had no idea. This is quite something,” said Adlet, and he glanced at Fremy. From the look on her face, she hadn’t known about it, either. 
“The barrier hasn’t been deployed yet,” the soldier said. “Once we have confirmed that all six Braves have entered the Howling Vilelands, we will activate it.” 
“How do you do that?” asked Adlet. 
Private Loren pointed to a spot a short distance from the fort. 
“Here, there is a temple built for the purpose of activating the barrier. The temple is surrounded by fortifications constructed by the Saint of Salt that protect it from fiends, so you don’t have to worry about it being destroyed.” 
Hearing the soldier’s description, Adlet was impressed. It was a superb plan. 
Next, Private Loren indicated an area on the map near the Howling Vilelands. “One of the Braves of the Six Flowers, Lady Mora, the Saint of Mountains, is waiting here. She visited this fort two days ago. We told her about the barrier then and discussed things.” 
One of the six Braves was waiting for them. When Fremy heard that, her expression grew somewhat grim. 
“So?” 
“The plan is that once all six Braves have gathered at that point, Lady Mora will send up a flare to signal us. When we see that flare, we will head to the temple and activate the barrier. If we are attacked by fiends and annihilated before the six Braves convene, then we will send up a flare instead.” 
“What for?” 
“In that case, please send one of the Braves to the temple to complete our mission. After conferring with Lady Mora, we have concluded that is the best plan.” 
Adlet fell silent. From what Private Loren described, the person who activated the barrier would be unable to leave it. In other words, one of the six Braves would be isolated from the true battle. But Adlet felt there was value in activating this bafflement, even if it meant losing one of the Braves. 
“Inside the temple, there is an altar just like this one. Please look,” Private Loren prompted. 
Adlet stood in front of the altar replica. It was a plain affair. There were a pedestal and a single decorative sword. To the left, there was a slate, and on the right, there was a book written in hieroglyphs. 
“Activating the barrier is easy,” said the soldier. “You just thrust the sword into the pedestal, put your hand on the slate, and say, Fog, rise .” 
“Roger,” said Adlet. “I’ll remember that. But activating the barrier is your job.” 
“I understand. We will carry out this mission, even if it means our lives.” 
Adlet extended his hand to Private Loren. The soldier smiled and accepted his handshake. The two grasped hands tightly. 
Adlet and Fremy left the fort and headed toward the Howling Vilelands. It would take about three hours to reach the point where they were supposed to gather, and where Mora, the Saint of Mountains, was waiting. 
“Well, we’re in a pickle,” said Adlet. Fremy had been silent ever since she’d heard their discussion at the fort about the barrier. “He said Mora is waiting at the entrance to the Howling Vilelands, and Nashetania may well be meeting up with her right now, too. It looks like it’ll be difficult to enter the Howling Vilelands without being noticed by them.” 
“Don’t talk to me. I’m thinking.” 
Adlet shrugged. “Hey, then why don’t we just get together with the rest of the Braves for now? We can think about what we’re gonna do after that.” 
“If that was supposed to be a joke, I’m not laughing. If we meet the other Braves, we’ll end up trying to kill one another.” 
Adlet didn’t believe things would come to that. They were a team, and there were only six of them. Whatever had happened in the past, they were supposed to forget all that for the time being and work together. Adlet planned to acknowledge every Brave as a comrade, no matter how villainous they might be, for the sake of defeating the Evil God. 
“Of course, I don’t intend to go down so easily,” Fremy added. 
“Don’t worry. If you do end up fighting, I’ll protect you.” He meant it as a joke. He figured she’d say something like Stop screwing with me and reject his remark anyway. 
But Fremy reacted a little unexpectedly. “Adlet, you…” He got the feeling this was the first time she had used his name. “You’re a kind person, aren’t you?” 
Hearing that embarrassed him. Adlet blushed a little. So she’s finally stopped being so surly , he thought, but then Fremy shot him a look that sent a chill running down his spine. 
“Don’t show me that kindness. It makes me want to kill you.” 
He was about to ask what she was talking about, but before the words could come out of his mouth, he shoved her away. He had sensed a murderous aura behind them. There was now a white blade sticking out from where Fremy had been. When Adlet turned, he saw Nashetania in the forest. 
“Adlet, get away from her, please!” cried the princess. 
Fremy rose to her feet, drawing her gun and firing in one smooth motion. Blades erupted from the ground to block her bullets, and then a tall knight in black armor emerged from the forest to charge Fremy. Adlet blocked his path, knocking aside the knight’s spear with his sword. 
“Wait! Stop! Don’t attack her!” Adlet yelled. 
But neither Nashetania nor the knight was listening. “She told you to move! Are you deaf?!” shouted the knight. 
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” Adlet screamed back. 
Nashetania pressed her attack on Fremy, who kept her gun trained on Nashetania while dodging the blades at her feet. Adlet blocked the knight, who was trying to attack Fremy from behind. 
“Why are you so surprised? I told you if we met, we’d end up trying to kill one another,” Fremy said scornfully. 
Adlet had known that. But he’d also thought they would have a little more room for discussion. 
“You’re in the way, Adlet.” The tall knight swung the handle of his spear around. 
Why does he know my name? Adlet wondered, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on it. He blocked the handle of the spear with his sword but was knocked back, sword and all. Even in midair, though, he managed to throw some sand into the knight’s eyes. Fremy did not let the opportunity go to waste. She pointed the muzzle of her gun at the tall knight, but Adlet used his sword to flick a pebble at his companion, hitting her wrist. 
The four of them moved in a dizzying round robin. Nashetania and the knight targeted Fremy, and Fremy mercilessly struck back. Adlet desperately tried to intercede and bring the fighting to a halt. 
“Adlet! Why are you trying to stop us?” Nashetania yelled, clearly growing impatient. 
Adlet yelled back at her even louder. “Everyone, stop! She’s not our enemy! She’s one of the Braves of the Six Flowers!” 
“Huh? What did you just say?” asked Nashetania. 
Fremy and Nashetania froze. The knight stood protectively in front of Nashetania. Adlet forced himself between the three of them. “Look at her left hand,” he said. “She’s one of the Braves. She’s not our enemy.” 
Nashetania and the tall knight looked at Fremy. When they noticed the crest on her left hand, they gasped but did not lower their weapons. “J-just what is going on here, Goldof?” Nashetania demanded of the tall knight. 
“I do not know. All I know for certain is that Fremy is our enemy,” Goldof replied, pointing his spearhead at Fremy. 
“Hey, you big lug. Are you the one who put this into her head? What the hell is this about?” Adlet accused. 
Goldof just glared at the young man without replying to the questions. “So you’re Adlet, huh? Just what were you doing, going off who-knows-where and abandoning the princess?” 
“Answer my damn question. You’re really pissing me off.” Adlet and Goldof stared daggers at each other. Nashetania, standing behind Goldof, attempted to pacify him. 
In an effort to mediate, Adlet spoke especially quietly and slowly. “First, listen. Nashetania, why are you attacking Fremy? She’s one of us.” 
“No, she is not ,” insisted Nashetania. “Adlet, please get away from her.” 
“Please answer my question. I don’t know what’s going on right now.” 
“Adlet, you may not believe this, but…she’s the one who’s been killing potential Braves.” 
Adlet looked at Fremy. She was undaunted, her gun raised as she glared at the other woman. 
“She’s the killer? What are you talking about?” asked Adlet. 
“Goldof is the one who informed me,” Nashetania said. “It’s trustworthy.” Goldof gave a distinct nod. 
“…Fremy.” Adlet looked at his companion one more time. It has to be a lie , he thought. 
But Fremy replied as if she had expected all of this. “It’s true.” 
“Wh-what?” stuttered Adlet. 
“I told you—I told you that if I explained why, we’d end up trying to kill each other.” Fremy swiveled her gun from Nashetania toward Adlet. 
“It can’t be true,” he said. 
“It is. Matra Wichita, Houdelka Holly, Athlay Aran. I killed a number of others as well…those who seemed like they might be chosen as one of the six. Goldof and Nashetania over there were on my list of potential targets, too. I hadn’t even considered you, though.” 
Adlet remembered what Nashetania had told him before. “What about Leura? Did you kill the Saint of Sun, too?” 
Fremy looked vaguely confused. “The Saint of Sun, Leura? I don’t know anything about that. Though she was on my list.” 
“That doesn’t matter,” said Nashetania. “Adlet, she’s dangerous. Come over here, please.” 
But Adlet didn’t take his eyes off Fremy. “What for? Why did you kill these potential Braves?” 
“Isn’t it obvious?” Fremy asked. “For the sake of the Evil God’s resurrection. If I succeeded in slaying all the strongest warriors, then the chosen Braves would be nothing but weaklings.” 
Adlet was speechless. 
His voice swollen with rage, Goldof broke the silence. “Now you know. This woman—Fremy is our enemy.” Nashetania and Goldof split off in opposite directions, converging on Fremy from either side. 
Adlet was frozen in place. Fremy was a murderer who had killed potential Braves while being at the same time a Brave who bore the Crest of the Six Flowers herself. If both were true, then which identity should he trust? That was when what Fremy had said popped into Adlet’s head. 
“No!” Adlet stood, shielding his companion. 
“Adlet, why?” Nashetania pleaded. 
Is this the best idea? Adlet worried. But Fremy had said that she couldn’t afford to die until she killed the Evil God. He believed she’d been telling the truth. “Nashetania, Goldof, listen up,” he said. “The Braves of the Six Flowers are not chosen purely on the basis of fighting ability. Will is also part of it—their desire to defeat the Evil God. Someone who wants to side with the enemy couldn’t have been chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, no matter how powerful they were.” 
“But she—” began Nashetania. 
“Fremy,” said Adlet. “You’re not trying to resurrect the Evil God right now , correct?” Fremy nodded, and he continued. “You have a reason now— a reason to fight the Evil God that you were trying to resurrect.” 
“Yes,” Fremy admitted. 
Adlet turned to Nashetania and spread his hands. “Do you get it, Nashetania? She is the one who has been killing potential Braves. But now the situation’s changed.” 
“And you believe that?” asked Nashetania warily. 
“I trust her. I can tell her desire to defeat the Evil God is real. Even if she was once the enemy of the Braves, right now, I know she’s our ally.” 
“But—” 
“If you’re going to keep fighting, I’m siding with Fremy,” he said. 
Nashetania considered this for a moment, and then Goldof spoke. “Pardon me, but I must say this—Princess, is Adlet really someone we can rely on?” 
“You’ve had it out for me this whole time. Just what is your deal?” 
“I am here to protect the princess. Anyone who would expose the princess to danger is my enemy.” 
“Fine. Right now, though, just ask Nashetania to put away her sword.” 
“Adlet. Don’t refer to the princess so informally.” Goldof was clearly angry, but Nashetania restrained him. 
“You two quarreling isn’t going to get us anywhere. I understand, Adlet. If you’re going to be so insistent about it, then I have no choice. Goldof, we will do as he says for now.” Nashetania sheathed her sword, and Goldof also reluctantly lowered his weapon. Adlet breathed a sigh of relief. “But…please take care,” she added. “You’re the type who’s easily deceived.” 
“It’s okay,” replied Adlet. “I’m the strongest man in the world. Nobody’s gonna trick me.” 
“I’m quite uneasy about this,” said Nashetania. 
Adlet looked at Fremy. “You put away your gun now, too. You don’t have to worry about getting killed anymore.” 
“For the time being.” Fremy lowered her gun and then holstered it at her waist. 
“Fremy,” said Nashetania. “Just so you know, I do not trust you. I trust Adlet.” 
“You sure are naive for trusting a guy like that,” Fremy replied. 
Even after both Nashetania and Fremy had lowered their weapons, there was still an explosive atmosphere between them. And then there was Goldof, his eyes filled with animosity and fixed on Adlet. 
Adlet felt intensely anxious. Would the Braves of the Six Flowers actually be capable of facing the Evil God in battle? 
The four decided to start by heading together to the point where Mora awaited them. Since Fremy had agreed to go with them, Adlet returned the pack that he had stolen from her. They began making their way along the forest path. Nashetania and Goldof walked close together, and Adlet was a little farther away. Fremy maintained an even larger distance between herself and the others. Their positions indicated their relative affinities for one another. 
“Hey, Fremy,” Adlet prompted. 
“What?” 
“I saved your butt, so maybe you could give me a thank-you?” 
“There’s no reason for me to do that,” Fremy said coldly. Adlet shrugged. 
Then Nashetania whispered to him so as not to be overheard. “Adlet.” 
“What is it?” he asked, but the only reply she gave him was a cold look. “I’m sorry for abandoning you,” he said. “But I had no choice. It’s her fault for running away.” Nashetania’s eyes grew even colder as she glared at him. Adlet cringed. 
“It seems you’ve gotten quite close to her in just a day,” she commented. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Nashetania put a hand to her mouth and smiled at him mischievously. What made it different this time was the genuine spite lurking in her eyes. “I was wondering why you would defend her. But now I see. So that’s how things are, hmm? Indeed, she is quite a beautiful woman, after all. I really am envious.” 
“Hey…” 
“Yes, yes, I understand very well indeed. Men are so very fond of women of that ilk, the type to inspire their protective instincts .” 
“Listen, Nashetania…” 
“Yes, yes, I hope you two get along quite splendidly. Hmph. ” After heaping sarcasm on Adlet, Nashetania moved away from him. 
“…Are you seriously a princess?” he wondered. 
“I am often asked that, but yes, I am,” said Nashetania, and then she turned the other way. 
What the hell? Adlet couldn’t help but silently wonder. 
A heavy silence hung over the four of them. Fremy continued to completely ignore the rest. Goldof was eyeing Adlet as if quite grumpy about the other man talking to Nashetania. Just thinking about the atmosphere being like this the whole way until they met Mora put a cloud over Adlet’s head. And for that matter, why was this Goldof guy scowling at him? He decided to try initiating a conversation. 
“Hey. With all that kerfuffle, I wasn’t able to introduce myself properly, but it was good to meet you. I’m the strongest man in the world, Adlet Mayer.” 
“Okay.” There was clear disgust in Goldof’s tone. 

“I hear you were chasing after the Brave-killer…after Fremy.” 
“That’s right.” 
“I get that you’re not really happy about this, but just bear with it for now. At the very least, until we know more about what’s going on,” said Adlet. 
“What are you talking about?” scoffed Goldof. “All I do is follow the princess’s orders.” 
That’s odd , thought Adlet. It seems he’s not angry about Fremy. So then, why does he hate me? “I’m sorry about what I did at the tournament,” Adlet said. “I injured your commanding officer. I’ve been wanting to apologize for that.” 
“It’s not really something you need to apologize for.” 
It sounds like that’s not the reason, either. So then, why? As Adlet mused, Goldof spoke to him—at a whisper, so as not to let Nashetania hear. 
“Adlet…how did you butter up the princess?” he asked. 
With that one line, it all made sense. Adlet looked at Nashetania and back at Goldof. Well, then. “What? You’re worried about me being close to the princess?” 
“I—I’m not worried about that…,” he stammered. 
“Relax, it’s not what you think. If you worry yourself over stupid stuff like that, she’s just gonna make fun of you.” 
Goldof choked. “What are you talking about? Don’t be stupid.” 
Now this was an easy guy to understand. Goldof apparently just didn’t like that Adlet was friends with Nashetania. He didn’t look like it, but he was still just around sixteen and merely a kid on the inside. “Do your best and protect the princess,” said Adlet. “I talked about a lot of stuff with her on the road. She really seems to rely on you. You’re the only one who can protect her.” 
“Of course. Just me.” 
Spouting such blatant flattery set Adlet’s teeth on edge, but Goldof’s bad mood had apparently abated somewhat. His predictability would save Adlet trouble. Goldof was nothing like Fremy and Nashetania. 
“There’re no enemies coming to us, though, huh?” Goldof muttered. 
Yeah, he’s right , thought Adlet. It was too peaceful. Why were they able to continue this silly conversation even as they were coming upon the Howling Vilelands, where the demons lurked? Adlet was finding the peace more and more ominous. 
That was when Fremy, who’d been silent the whole time, spoke. “This is strange.” When the three of them turned, Fremy was facing back, looking up at the sky. “There have been flying fiends circling in the sky behind us for a while now.” 
Adlet pulled a spyglass from his chest pocket and looked in the direction Fremy had indicated. She was right—a few birdlike creatures were circling in the air. 
“There aren’t many of them. It can’t be anything much,” said Nashetania. 
“Isn’t that direction…?” Adlet eyeballed the distance of the demons and compared his visual measurements to his mental map. “This is bad. That’s where the temple of the Phantasmal Barrier is.” 
Tension simmered among them. According to what Private Loren had said, the barrier was made so that fiends couldn’t come near it, but even so, the situation was cause for concern. Adlet turned to Fremy. “Can you hit them from here?” 
“It would be difficult. We have to get closer,” she replied. 
“They just dropped something,” Goldof muttered. When Adlet looked, it seemed as if the fiends were spitting something from their mouths. Moments later, there was a thunderous roar and rising smoke. 
“Adlet, what on earth was that?” asked Nashetania. 
“Bombs. The fiends are dropping bombs on the temple,” he said. 
“Bombs? That’s ridiculous!” 
Adlet was surprised, too. Some fiends possessed intelligence, but he couldn’t imagine they had the skill or raw materials necessary to make explosives. 
Nashetania looked at Fremy and said, “You’re the Saint of Gunpowder, aren’t you? This isn’t your doing, is it?” 
“I don’t know anything about it,” Fremy insisted. 
“Let’s just go!” said Adlet. 
The four of them ran back the way they’d come. If they ran as fast as they could, it would take about fifteen minutes to get there. But after about five minutes at a sprint, they encountered a line of fiends standing across the path, blocking their way. They’d seen no sign of any fiends when passing through the area earlier. These were clearly there for the express purpose of holding them up. 
Nashetania yelled, “Let’s break right through! Goldof!” 
In response, Goldof crouched and then rushed at one of the fiends like a giant bullet. He thrust his spear out in a twisting motion, his entire body weight behind it. His target was a fiend that looked like a bear with the head of an insect. Even though his foe was nearly ten times his body mass, Goldof blasted the creature backward. He then tried to break through the opening he’d created, but a tiger-fiend that had been standing beside the bear-fiend screamed. It was difficult to make out what it said, but the creature was definitely speaking human language. 
“They…come. Sur…round…them!” 
The row of fiends attacked their closest target, Goldof, all at once. 
He’s too impatient , thought Adlet. It’s like he’s begging them to overwhelm him. These monsters were a cut above those they had destroyed earlier. They understood human speech and had the intellect necessary for a certain degree of strategy. They were mature fiends, those that had lived a number of years. 
Goldof scattered the demons attacking him from either side. Nashetania defended his back and finished off the ones that fell. Adlet and Fremy were also surrounded. Adlet tossed the iron box off his back and engaged. The battle turned chaotic. At this rate, it would be impossible to break through the ring of enemies and escape toward their goal. 
“Adlet, please head for the temple. We’ll take over here!” Nashetania shouted as she blocked a wolf-fiend’s attacks. 
“Yeah, I got you,” said Adlet. “Breaking through this kind of tough situation is just the job for me! Hey, Fremy, Goldof—watch this. I’m the strongest man in the world!” 
“Stop bragging and just go!” ordered Nashetania. 
He hadn’t been merely fooling around, though—during his speech, he’d come up with a way to break through the line. “Nashetania, Goldof, Fremy!” he yelled. “Attack the fiends on the temple side as hard as you can!” 
Nashetania and Goldof nodded. Fremy was expressionless, but she did seem to basically agree. Goldof sent one fiend flying with a thrust of his spear. Nashetania stabbed the one behind it with one of her blades, and Fremy’s bullet tore through another that had been in front of Adlet. 
“Perfect!” Adlet ran over the flat of Nashetania’s summoned blade. When one final fiend attacked him, he used a poison blow dart to force it to withdraw. Adlet broke through the circle and pushed forward toward the temple. 
“We’re counting on you!” cried Nashetania. 
“I’m on it!” Adlet called back. Without being told, Nashetania blocked any creatures that attempted pursuit. None were chasing him. It seemed as though his path was clear of ambush as well. 
He ran at full speed for about ten minutes. The sounds of battle grew distant, and finally, the forest opened up so Adlet could see the temple. “This is it,” he said, stopping to get a good look. The fiends that had been bombing it were already gone, but the smell of gunpowder remained thick in the air. 
The temple was smaller than he had expected—about the size of an average house. But its stone walls were surprisingly sturdy. The entire building was surrounded by about twenty white pillars—probably the Saint of Salt’s barricade to keep out fiends. Outside the ring of pillars, he could see footprints left by a great variety of demons, but not a single one within the ring. Apparently, the fiends were unable to pass between them. 
Portions of the salt pillars were missing due to the bombing, and there were scorch marks on the temple, too. The building, though, was still firmly intact. So no damage, huh? thought Adlet. That was when he saw a woman lying on the ground beside one of the salt pillars. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?!” Adlet ran up to her. The woman was dressed in the garb of a priestess. Part of her back was terribly burned. “Hold on, I’ll treat your wounds!” he said, and he lifted the woman into a sitting position. “Don’t worry, they aren’t deep!” He searched through the pouches at his waist for medicine. 
“Hur…ry… ,” the woman said, pointing to the temple. 
“Never mind that now! Don’t move.” 
“Hurry…now…you won’t make it…please…it’s all…” 
Adlet ground his teeth. As much as he might have wanted to treat her, he didn’t have the medicine. I should have brought my iron box , he thought. Then he would have bandages and medicated gauze for burns. 
“I’ll be okay…I am…a Saint, after all… ,” she said. 
“Don’t you die on me!” he replied as he gently laid the woman on the ground, then passed through the pillars of salt to stand in front of the temple. 
The doors were sealed with a sturdy lock. Adlet thrust his sword into the keyhole and twisted it forcefully, but the lock didn’t budge. “Damn it, I didn’t hear anything about the doors being locked! Do you have the key?!” he yelled to the woman, but she shook her head. 
Adlet pulled some explosives from a pouch, affixed them to the lock with adhesive, and lit it. The lock blew off the door with a powerful bang, and two soldiers emerged from within. The soldiers both wore full body armor with spikes protruding. They charged Adlet. 
“The hell are you guys doing?!” he wailed. 
The soldiers went straight for him, but they weren’t that fast. Adlet didn’t even have to use his secret tools—he just whacked them on their heads with the hilt of his sword to take them down. But when their helmets fell off, he saw that the armor was empty. 
“What the hell?” Adlet was about to ask the woman in priestess attire what was going on when she erupted into shrill laughter. 
“Hee-kee-kee-kee-kee-kee-kee! ” Prostrate on the earth, she contorted and cackled. Her body bent limply, a single horn grew from her forehead, and she transformed into a creature resembling a skinny, ugly monkey. Adlet knew—this was a transforming fiend. Adlet’s master had told him that although very few fiends could disguise themselves as humans and animals, they did exist. 
“You bastard!” Adlet cried. The transforming fiend immediately fled. Adlet was about to run after it, but he abruptly stopped himself. Right now, I should prioritize checking the temple , he realized, and he turned back toward the building. That was when it happened. 
“…Huh?” Terror ran through him. The air around him suddenly got colder, as if his entire body had been plunged into water. Mist slowly began rising from the ground—from his feet to his chest, from his chest to his head, and then, in a heartbeat, filling the whole area. 
Adlet remembered what Private Loren had said. When the barrier is activated, the entire area within it will be enveloped in fog. His body began trembling. It sensed the crisis before his mind did. Once the barrier is activated, you can no longer get inside. Adlet entered the temple. He looked at the altar positioned in the central area of the tiny room. And those inside can’t escape, either. This affects both humans and fiends alike. The barrier was activated by putting a hand on the slate imbued with divine power and thrusting the decorative sword into the pedestal. That was what Private Loren had told him. 
And now Adlet saw…the sword was already in the pedestal. 
“I didn’t move it,” he murmured. “Who did it?! Who activated the barrier?!” Adlet yelled, running out of the temple to scan the area. He blew his flute, the one that attracted fiends, and did a sweep with his telescope. 
“Adlet!” came a voice. It wasn’t long before Nashetania ran up to him, her face pale. Goldof and Fremy arrived soon after. “What happened?! Why has the barrier been activated?!” shouted Nashetania. 
This was the first time Adlet had ever heard Nashetania lose her composure. Overcome by shock, Adlet replied, “No…it wasn’t me. Someone activated the barrier and then disappeared instantly afterward.” 
“That can’t be,” she said. 
“I’m not making it up,” he insisted. “They disappeared. It was only an instant, and then they were gone.” 
Nashetania’s lips were trembling. Goldof’s eyes were wide. Even Fremy had lost the ability to speak. It couldn’t be… Were they trapped here? 
“Let’s just go inside!” suggested Adlet. The four of them rushed into the temple. 
As she gazed at the pedestal impaled with the decorative sword, the look on Nashetania’s face said she had no idea what was going on. She put her hand on the sword, checked the slate and the pedestal, and then squeezed out, “The barrier has been activated. I can’t believe this. Who did it?” 
“I don’t know. Sorry, but I have no idea what happened.” Adlet shook his head. 
“Well, let us deactivate it, then. Pardon,” said Goldof as he approached the altar. He pulled the sword from the pedestal—but they could see no changes in the fog blanketing the area. “Will that not work? Your Highness, do you know how we might nullify the barrier?” 
“No, I don’t know, either,” she replied. “There must be a way…” 
That was where Adlet cut in. “Give me that for a second.” 
“Do you know something about this?” asked Nashetania. 
“The previous generation of Braves made something like this before. Back then, I think they canceled out the barrier like this.” Adlet ran his hand along the blade of the sword. Blood dripped down it and wet the pedestal. “Barrier, nullify!” he declared, but still, nothing happened. 
Next, Nashetania grabbed the sword and yelled random lines one after another. “Nullify the barrier! Cancel it, you! You stop now! Stop the fog! I will be this barrier’s master!” But still, the barrier did not lift. Finally, she became impatient and began bashing the pedestal and the slate with the hilt of the slim sword. The sword chipped, and the slate broke. 
“Calm down, Nashetania. There’s no point in randomly whacking at it,” Fremy said coldly behind them. “Private Loren, who was at the fort, should be around here somewhere. Since there was that explosion earlier, he should be on the move.” 
“You’re right. I—I’m sorry.” Nashetania seemed ashamed. 
“Goldof, you protect the temple. You, too, Fremy,” ordered Adlet, and he and Nashetania left the temple to search for Private Loren. 
They must have scouted for about thirty minutes. Adlet and Nashetania returned to the temple with nothing to show for their efforts. Had Private Loren and his men not come this way? Or had the fiends already killed them? 
“What do we do?” asked Adlet. “Mora was ahead of us. At this rate, she’ll end up all on her own.” 
“And more importantly, we cannot escape from here,” replied Nashetania. 
The four looked at one another as they tried to think of a way to break out, but none came up with any good ideas. 
“What’re you all fussing about?” That was when they heard a voice coming from outside the temple. A girl stood in front of the broken doors. She looked to be about thirteen or fourteen years old and quite strange, wearing a frilly, check-patterned dress and a jester’s hat. In one hand, she held a green foxtail. A pouch and a water bottle hung diagonally across her chest. She looked like a child who’d gone on a picnic and gotten lost. “Oh, you’re that big guy from before,” she said when she saw Goldof. “Did you find that Brave-killer? And you, you’re the princess of Piena, aren’t you? So you were chosen as one of the six?” This time she was addressing Nashetania. Maybe she just didn’t understand the situation—there was absolutely zero anxiety in her tone. 
“Who’re you?” Adlet asked. 
The girl grinned. “Nice to meet you, weird belt guy. Chamo Rosso, Saint of Swamps. Chamo got chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.” The girl—Chamo Rosso—lifted the hem of her skirt. The Crest of the Six Flowers marked her skinny thigh. 
“The Saint of Swamps is a kid?” Adlet muttered. 
Chamo Rosso, the Saint of Swamps. 
Anyone who lived in the world of warriors would know that name. Adlet had heard her power far surpassed Nashetania’s. She was said to be not only the most powerful person alive in the present day, but the strongest ever, aside from the Saint of the Single Flower. Adlet didn’t really know exactly what kind of power she wielded, but he had never imagined she would be so young. 
“Who’re you?” Chamo asked Adlet. 
“Me? I’m Adlet Mayer, the strongest man in the world. I was chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, just like you.” 
“‘The strongest in the world’? Isn’t that supposed to be Chamo?” she asked. 
“Yeah,” said Adlet, “I hear people generally call you that, but in actuality, you’re not. I’m the strongest in the world.” 
“What are you talking about?” Chamo tilted her head. 
Adlet’s manner was jocular as he said, “I gotta apologize to you—I’m stealing your title of strongest in the world. Well, second in the world is still pretty amazing, so just be satisfied with that.” 
“…Hweh. ” Chamo made a weird sound, crossed her arms, and reflected. She pondered for a while and then clapped her hands. “Oh, Chamo gets it. This guy is brain-dead, isn’t he?” 
“He’s a little strange, but he’s reliable. Don’t worry,” Nashetania reassured, cutting in from the side. 
That was when Adlet noticed how Fremy, who was behind them, was acting. Though she’d been expressionless this whole time, now she was suddenly pale. Her lips were trembling very slightly. 
Chamo fixed her eyes on Fremy and said, “Long time, no see, Fremy. Why’re you here?” 
Adlet was about to ask, Do you know her? But Fremy was just cringing in terror. 
“Well, Chamo can deal with you later. What the heck happened here?” Chamo made the foxtail in her hand sway as she gave an uncanny smile. 
Adlet and Nashetania took turns filling her in on the details of what had happened up to this point. Chamo had not stopped by Private Loren’s fort, but she seemed to know a little about the Phantasmal Barrier, though she said she didn’t know how to nullify it. 
As they spoke, Adlet occasionally looked over to check Fremy. She said nothing as she stood at the edge of the temple. Chamo made no move to approach Fremy, either. “Hmm , oh,” said Chamo. “This is a bit of a problem.” 
What about this is just “a bit of a problem ”? wondered Adlet. 
“Well, whatever. For now, Chamo will just kill Fremy,” she said, as if this were the obvious course of action. Reflexively, Fremy drew her gun. 
“Wait!” Adlet immediately stepped between the two of them. 
Chamo gave Adlet a puzzled look. “Why are you getting in the way?” 
“No, what are you thinking?” he demanded. “I just explained this to you. Fremy is one of us.” 
“What a funny thing to say. You know she’s the killer who’s been after the Braves? She’s the one who activated the barrier, too.” Chamo touched the foxtail to her mouth. 
Nashetania grabbed Chamo by the wrist. “Wait, please, Chamo. When the barrier was activated, Fremy was with us. She couldn’t have activated the barrier.” 
“Oh, really? It doesn’t matter anyway, so let go,” Chamo replied. 
“I won’t.” 
Eyes brimming with quiet anger, Chamo glared at Nashetania. “Why’re you ordering me around? Are you someone important? Are you some princess or something…?” 
“Yes, in fact, I am.” 
“…Oh yeah, you are. What to do, then?” Chamo smiled wryly and shrugged. 
“Chamo, did something happen between you and Fremy?” asked Adlet. 
The one to reply was not the little girl, but Goldof, who had been watching in silence. “Chamo once fought with Fremy.” 
“What do you mean?” asked Adlet. 
Chamo took over from Goldof. “It was about six months ago, maybe. She was trying to gun down Chamo. It was a close call, but Chamo’s pet stopped Fremy at the last minute. She said she was Fremy, the Saint of Gunpowder. There was more fighting afterward, but she ran away. You know, it was the first time Chamo ever failed to finish off a target after deciding to kill them. It was so infuriating.” Adlet could sense the bloodlust emanating from her body. “This whole time, Chamo’s been thinking, Fremy needs to die . So, now she will, right?” 
Adlet shook his head. Nashetania did not release Chamo’s wrist, either. An air of unrest hung over them. 
“Chamo, please hold on,” said Nashetania. “First, we need to find a way to resolve this barrier problem.” 
“You and the big guy can do something about that, Princess,” said Chamo. “While you’re busy with that, Chamo will deal with Fremy.” 
“Nashetania is right,” said Adlet. “There’re five people here, so that means that someone named Mora, who got here ahead of us, is all on her own out there. We need to find a way to dispel the barrier first, for her sake, too.” 
As Adlet and Nashetania continued trying to convince Chamo to stop, a comment came from the temple entrance. “If you’re concerned about me, you needn’t be.” 
All present turned in the direction of the voice. A tall woman stood there. She looked to be in her late twenties and wore a serious expression, with powerful eyes. Long black hair flowed down her back, and she wore blue priestess robes. The large iron gauntlets on both her hands seemed to double as both weapon and armor. Just seeing her standing there, Adlet could tell she was strong. That was the kind of woman she was. 
“What a long-awaited reunion, Princess Nashetania, Chamo,” the woman said. “And that gentleman over there is Sir Goldof, I presume?” The woman walked to the center of the temple. “I am Mora Chester, Saint of Mountains. I serve as the elder of the All Heavens Temple. It’s good to see you all.” 
Nashetania had continued holding Chamo’s wrist, even after Mora’s entrance. Mora stepped between the two of them, forcing Nashetania to let go. “It looks like you have some quarrel,” said Mora. “Chamo, try not to act too selfishly.” 
“Auntie Mora, this wasn’t Chamo’s fault,” protested Chamo. 
“Oh? Well, you can say your piece later. For now, just settle down.” Mora mediated between the two, and Chamo reluctantly stepped down. 
Adlet was privately relieved to see such a reliable-looking person arrive on the scene. This meant that they had all six Braves now. 
“Let’s tackle the subject at hand. Why has the barrier been activated?” asked Mora. 
“I think we’ve probably fallen into a trap set by our enemies,” replied Nashetania. 
“Most likely,” Mora agreed. “The fiends have a knack for using our own weapons against us.” 
“Come on, it’s no big deal,” said Adlet. “Once we find a way to nullify the barrier, problem solved.” 
“Yes, that is indeed true. Now, boy, do you…” Then Mora looked around the area as if she had just noticed something. She considered the faces of each of the other five present in turn and said, “By the way, it seems we have an outsider in our midst. Who is it?” 
Everyone aside from Mora looked confused. “Wait, what do you mean?” asked Adlet. 
“What do you mean? We have one person too many,” she replied. 
What are you talking about? thought Adlet, when another voice came from the temple entrance. 
“Meow? Looks like we’ve got quite the crowd here. Does this mean we’ve got a full set?” A strange man entered the temple. His eyes were hidden by disheveled hair, and he looked a little dirty. Adlet couldn’t quite tell how old he was. He wore shabby hempen pants with a shirt and soft leather shoes. Except for the pair of hatchet-like swords belted at his waist, his dress was utterly commonplace. There was also a cat’s tail attached to his rear—perhaps as a joke. The man looked around the temple with a mocking smile on his face. “Meow-hee-hee , there’s a lotta pretty ladies in this set o’ Braves. Suddenly, I’m actually getting into this.” 
“Who are you?” Nashetania asked. 
Mora replied in the man’s place. “Let me introduce you—though I only met him just yesterday. This is Hans Humpty, another Brave of the Six Flowers.” 
What? Adlet was befuddled. We already have all the Braves right here. 
“It seems that we have an outsider tagging along. Who of the seven here is not a Brave?” asked Mora. 
Adlet was entirely unable to reply. All he understood was that this was a preposterously abnormal situation. Nashetania and Goldof were both standing there, stunned. Even expressionless Fremy and unflappable Chamo were caught off-balance. 
“All of you, show your crests,” said Adlet as he thrust out his right hand marked with the Crest of the Six Flowers. Fremy showed everyone the back of her left hand. Nashetania pulled down her breastplate to reveal the crest near her collarbone. Chamo rolled up her skirt to show the crest on her thigh. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” Mora sounded confused. 
“Goldof, what about you?” asked Adlet. “I haven’t seen yours.” 
Goldof removed the pauldron from his right shoulder and rolled up his sleeve. There indeed, on his shoulder, was the Crest of the Six Flowers. 
Seeing the five crests exposed, Mora and Hans quickly caught on. Both of their faces froze. 
“Mora, Hans, please show us your crests, too,” said Nashetania. 
“H-hey, just what the meow is goin’ on?” Hans took off his jacket to reveal his full upper body. The Crest of the Six Flowers was indeed there on the left side of his chest, over his heart. 
“Mora, your crest,” said Nashetania. 
“Impossible,” Mora refuted. “What is this? Just what on earth is going on?” 
All eyes gathered on Mora. She unbuttoned her priestess robes, turned her back to them, and pulled the cloth off one shoulder. In the center of her back, between her shoulder blades, was what was clearly the Crest of the Six Flowers. 
“There are…seven?” Nashetania murmured in shock. 
Bewildered, Mora cried, “Check more closely! This is impossible! There cannot be seven Braves!” 
The seven of them checked one another’s crests. There were multiple rounds of inspection to see if there was any variance in size or shape or difference in the faintly shining pink coloration. But every one of the crests was absolutely identical. All seven were speechless. None of them could understand what was going on. 
“Is it possible for seven Braves to be chosen?” Adlet murmured. 
“Boy,” replied Mora, “long ago, the Saint of the Single Flower divided her power into six and left it for future generations. Each Brave inherits one of those fragments of her power. That is why there can be only six Braves.” 
“So in other words, what?” he asked. 
“There are six Braves. Any more or any less would not be within the realm of possibility,” she replied. 
“But there are seven, right here.” This time, it was Fremy who spoke. 
“Yes, we have seven. What is the meaning of this?” Mora asked. But no one could answer. 
After a pause, suddenly the temple echoed with laughter. “Meow-ha-ha-ha!” The source was the strange man who had appeared last in the temple, Hans. 
“What’s so funny?” asked Adlet. 
“Listen. It’s not that hard to figure meowt. Basically, it means one of us is a fake. Get it?” Hans declared without hesitation. 
“Come on, why would there be a fake here?” Adlet asked. 
“Because one of us is the enemy. You understand?” replied Hans. 
Adlet was silent. That wasn’t necessarily the case. 
“Is it possible…that the Spirit of Fate thought six would not be enough, and so an extra was made…?” Nashetania posited, not sounding very confident. 
“If the Spirit did that, then wouldn’t we have been told?” countered Hans. “Not that I know if the Spirit o’ Fate can even talk.” Adlet knew that Hans’s explanation was the most rational one. “There’s a fake among us, and they’re not sayin’ who they are,” Hans continued. “If the fake ain’t our enemy, then who are they? If you can think of any other reasons there’d be an extra, I’m all ears.” As Hans spoke, he looked over each of their faces. There was cold sweat breaking out on his, too. 
Everyone scrutinized everyone else. Like Adlet and Hans, every one of their faces revealed confusion and fear. There was an enemy among them, but they couldn’t tell who it was just by looking. 
I could burst out laughing , reveled the traitor. Making a concerted effort to act confused, the impostor gloried in the reactions of the six Braves. 
The plan had succeeded. Everything was proceeding perfectly, just as expected. The mole had obtained a fake crest and infiltrated the Braves of the Six Flowers. The Braves had been lured into the barrier and then sealed up inside. Every scheme had played out according to plan. It had all been so very easy, it was actually scary. 
Now, all that remained was to lay low while picking off the six Braves, one by one. That promised to be a very easy job. 
The first target—Adlet Mayer. He would be the first to die.