Chapter 4
Counteroffensive
Meanwhile, the seventh was privately thinking that killing Adlet personally wouldn’t be the best strategy. The impostor wanted to leave the task to one of the other Braves of the Six Flowers, if possible. Then if things went well, they would be able to blame everything on the one who’d done the deed. Even if the impostor wasn’t able to pull that off, Adlet’s death would still tear a wide rift in the bonds of trust between the six Braves. The seventh just had to stay vigilant and use that failure of trust to lead the group to an irreparable falling-out.
The seventh didn’t know what was going to happen. The important thing was to be flexible—to observe the situation closely and use whatever was at hand without getting too attached to any single idea. And most of all, avoiding suspicion was crucial. If the seventh could manage that, victory was assured.
Now then, who would kill Adlet…?
When Fremy returned to the temple, Chamo, Nashetania, and Hans were already asleep. Mora and Goldof were standing watch outside.
“So you live. What happened to Adlet?” asked Mora.
“I lost him,” said Fremy. “He was wounded, and while I would have liked to capture him, I didn’t have my gun.”
“I see,” Mora replied. “You should sleep. You can talk more about it tomorrow morning.”
When Fremy walked into the temple, Goldof called out to her. “I’m sorry for suspecting you,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter. Any normal person would have,” she replied.
Eventually, dawn broke. Fremy told the other five about what had happened after Adlet carried her away. And then she told them about herself, and in particular, her reason for fighting the Evil God.
“Fiends are such heartless creatures.” Mora knit her brows.
“What an awful story,” said Chamo. “If it’s true.”
“Chamo, you still suspect Fremy? The truth has already become clear—Fremy is an indispensable member of our team,” Mora chided her, but Chamo just giggled.
“Meow-hee-hee ,” chuckled Hans. “I’m feelin’ a little uneasy ’bout this, though. Should we really think she’s one of us?”
“Hans, you too? How can you say that?” puzzled Mora.
“Didja actually fight with Adlet?” Hans asked Fremy. “That sword I threw at him sank in pretty deep, ya know?”
“It missed his vitals,” Fremy replied. “Your arm isn’t as good as your mouth.”
“Adlet really seemed to take a likin’ to ya. When everyone was suspicious of ya, he protected ya. When Chamo said she was gonna torture ya, he got mad and stopped her. It’s no surprise yer feelin’ attracted to him.”
“You’re so obnoxious.”
“Meow-hee-hee , the heart of a woman is an eternal meowstery. Yer mouth and yer heart aren’t singin’ the same tune.”
“Hans, be silent for one moment,” ordered Mora. Hans made an exaggerated display of his shock and then shut his mouth. “I have doubts as well,” she continued. “What did you think of Adlet, Fremy? What was your impression when you found out he was the seventh?”
“I thought, Ah, I knew it ,” said Fremy.
“How so?” asked Mora.
“He was trying to get on my good side, showing this forced concern in an attempt to win my trust. Now that I know why, it all makes sense.”
“Meow-ha-ha , what a terrifyin’ woman. Poor Adlet’s love is unrequited!”
Fremy glared at Hans.
“We should be talking about Adlet. How do we capture him?” asked Goldof.
Hans looked at the iron box in the corner of the temple and said, “Most of his weapons are in there. He can’t fight without ’em. If we wait here, I think he’ll be comin’ round to get ’em.”
“Not necessarily,” Fremy countered. “He still has a certain number of weapons hidden on his person.”
“Not enough to fight all of us,” Hans replied.
“That doesn’t mean we can go without a plan,” said Goldof. “We should make our move. We have only a finite amount of time. We should split up and track him down.”
“Goldof is right,” said Mora. “We’ll split into groups of two. First, Fremy—you will come with me to search for Adlet.” Fremy nodded. “Princess, you go with Goldof,” Mora continued. “Do not be gentle with Adlet. Goldof, take care of the princess.” Goldof nodded. Nashetania gave him an uneasy look. “Chamo and Hans, you stay here and lay an ambush for him. Keep your wits about you.”
“Meow? I’ll have only half the motivation if I’m not with a pretty lady. Can’t I switch places with Goldof?” Everyone ignored Hans’s complaint.
“No objections?” verified Mora. “Then let’s go.”
That was when Chamo said, “No. Chamo doesn’t wanna wait.”
“All right, then Fremy can stay here, and you come with me, Chamo,” said Mora.
“Walking all over the place doesn’t sound fun, either. Chamo’s just gonna go play somewhere until the barrier is down.”
“May I scold you a little, Chamo?” A blue vein popped out on Mora’s forehead.
Hans smiled and said, “It’s fine. I can deal with a guy like that by myself.”
“What reliable allies you are,” said Mora. “Well, so be it. Chamo, do avoid getting lost and don’t stray too far.”
Nashetania and Goldof headed out westward. Mora and Fremy were setting off in the opposite direction when Hans called out to one of his companions. “Hey, Fremy.”
“What?” she replied.
“Can you really fight the fiends?”
“What do you mean?”
“If yer beloved mama was standin’ right in fronta ya, sayin’, I’m sorry, forgive me, I’ve always regretted it, let’s live together again , could ya kill her?”
“I could. Because I would know she was lying,” said Fremy.
“No, ya couldn’t.”
Fremy shot Hans an angry glare.
“I’m an assassin,” said Hans. “I’ve taken on a lot of jobs. Husbands betrayed by their wives. Children abandoned by their parents. They all came to me and said, Kill them for me . But ya know, not a single one of ’em was happy to see me do it. At the last moment, most of ’em would be like, No, don’t kill them, after all. ”
“So what?” Fremy demanded.
“Well, I guess it don’t really matter.”
“Let’s go, Fremy,” said Mora, and the two women turned away from Hans and ran into the woods.
After Nashetania and Goldof left the temple, they ran for a while, until Nashetania suddenly stopped. She turned to look behind them and scanned the area multiple times.
“What is it?” Goldof, who had been following her, was confused by her behavior.
“Goldof, I know this is sudden, and this is going to sound strange, but do you trust me?” Nashetania looked Goldof straight in the eye.
“Of course. Whom could I trust but you?” he replied.
But his response made Nashetania frown. “You don’t understand what I mean. What I mean to ask is, will you support my ideas without questioning them?”
“Your Highness, just what are you thinking?”
Nashetania kept her eyes locked on Goldof’s. “Adlet isn’t the seventh. And now I will prove it.”
“Your Highness!” Goldof cried.
“Just this time. Say you will with no complaints. I can tell—Adlet has fallen into a trap, and he’s waiting for my help!”
“I cannot acquiesce. Even if it’s you, Your Highness. Anything but that.”
“I’m not saying this with no plan in mind,” Nashetania persisted. “There’s something that has been bothering me. I still have no proof, and I may just be wrong. But it might be the clue that leads us to the truth.”
“Whom do you suspect?” asked Goldof.
Nashetania replied quietly, “Hans.”
Meanwhile, Adlet was also making his move. He ran soundlessly across tree branches so as not to leave any footprints. Occasionally, he would stop and listen to the sounds around him, check that no one was approaching, and then continue. He was heading toward the temple. If he could find proof there that the eighth really existed, he could clear the suspicions against him for the time being. It would be more efficient than running around the forest and searching for the eighth at random.
What are the others doing? As Adlet jumped from one tree to the next, he reflected. Most likely, the six of them had split into groups of two or three to look for him. That would be the logical decision if they wanted to avoid surprise attacks from him. Things might get nasty if they were in groups of two. That would mean one of them was alone with the seventh, who could kill their companion and then pin it on Adlet. That could be the seventh’s next plan. Adlet had to hurry before such underhanded tactics were put into action.
But would surveying the temple be doable? There would be at least two standing guard. At least if Nashetania or Fremy were among them, there would be a way. Adlet could get one of them to cooperate and have her make sure the temple was empty, or he could negotiate with them directly to get into the temple. Adlet knew full well his plan had holes. It was haphazard and chance-based. But at that point, it was all he had.
“Okay.” He had made it to the temple without running into any of his pursuers. It seemed that luck had not forsaken him. He climbed another tree, pulled out his telescope, and surveyed the area. There was no sign of anyone around the temple. Were they lying in wait for him inside? He went around to the back of the temple, approaching it cautiously. He leaped down onto the roof, put his ear to the stone, and listened for any sounds inside. He could hear none. Either the temple was actually empty, or it was a trap to lure him in. And if it was a trap, was it one of the other Braves who had set it for him, or was it the seventh?
Then he felt something that sent shivers down his spine—he could sense bloodlust in the air. His body reacted before his conscious mind.
“Meow-meow! ” Adlet rolled to one side just as the sword stabbed into the roof where he’d been. The other man had approached from behind without making the slightest sound. “Hiya,” Hans said. “I thought ya’d show up, Adlet.”
“Hans. So it’s you.” Adlet had forgotten—Hans was an assassin. Traps and surprise attacks were his field of expertise. Hans had probably predicted his arrival and concealed himself beforehand somewhere in the forest.
Hans yanked his sword out of the roof, and then, grasping a hatchet-like blade in each hand, he whirled them around, moving only his wrists. It looked like he was playing, yet he revealed no openings. His movements were bizarre. “I thought all ya could meownage was cowardly tricks. Yer better than I thought.” It sounded as though Hans was surprised that his ambush had failed.
“Well, damn,” said Adlet. “Now that I’ve run into you, it looks like I’ve got no choice but to do this.” He drew his sword and faced Hans. But that was just bluster. Since negotiation was off the table, Adlet was already considering his only option: flight.
“Come at me like yer gonna kill me. If ya don’t, this’ll be over real fast.” Hans had a broad smile on his face as he swung his sword. It was as if he enjoyed fighting so much he could barely control it.
“You go first,” said Adlet. “It’ll be a nice learning experience for you.”
“Mya-hee. Mee-hee-hee. Hmya-mya-meow! ” Hans emitted a strange laugh and leaped at him.
Just what I wanted , Adlet thought. He would block Hans’s first attack and use the opportunity to throw a smoke bomb in his face.
But an instant before Hans would have struck, the assassin dropped to all fours and came to a halt. Adlet wasn’t ready for that. Hans threw a spinning roundhouse kick to smack away the smoke bomb in Adlet’s left hand. “That same trick ain’t gonna keep workin’ again and again.” Hans swung his sword, using the momentum of his spin. Adlet jumped backward, barely avoiding it. Hans twisted his body and pounced once more.
The two fell from the roof of the temple. Adlet landed, and when he saw Hans falling headfirst, he thought this would be his chance to run. But Hans landed on his fists, swords still in hand, and smoothly, with the strength of his arms alone, launched himself at Adlet. “Yah!” Twisting through the air, he struck.
It was all Adlet could do to block the blow with the flat of his blade. Hans’s full weight behind the attack threw Adlet off-balance. Hans landed on his hands and then, of all things, ran upside down toward Adlet. Then he flipped forward to plant his feet on the ground again, aiming for Adlet’s head with both swords.
“Ngh! ” Though Hans’s build wasn’t that large, his strike was terrifyingly heavy. Just blocking it made Adlet’s shoulders scream. Hans’s stream of attacks was continuous—he flipped upside down, rolled forward, cartwheeled to the side, all four of his limbs working freely to harry Adlet. It was as if gravity didn’t even exist. How can a human move like that? Adlet wondered. He had no idea where the onslaught would come from next. Though it seemed as if Hans was just messing with him, his manner of movement was utterly efficient. He followed Adlet about like a cat playing with a ball, keeping his prey from getting too far.
“Tsk! ” Adlet tossed a poison needle from his sleeve as he kicked at Hans with a nail hidden in his shoe. But neither hit their mark. There was no way they could. Adlet’s weapons were all for catching an opponent off guard. But at the moment, Adlet was the one off-balance.
“Hnnmya! ” Hans grunted as Adlet’s desperate kick connected with his stomach. Hans dropped both his swords. In that brief moment, Adlet tried to throw a smoke bomb.
“Hnnmya-meow! ” But as the swords flew through the air, Hans caught them between his feet. Then, spinning his body with the strength of his arms, he lunged at Adlet. Adlet somehow managed to block the attack from Hans’s feet with a sword, but Hans took advantage of the opportunity to grab his opponent’s legs and pull him to the ground.
“Damn it…” Adlet fell on his face. He didn’t even have time to cry out. Hans was instantly on his feet, pressing a steel edge against Adlet’s neck. Hans had defeated him utterly with little effort. Adlet had been crushed. Dumbfounded, the boy gazed at the blade at his throat. It prevented him from moving at all. If Adlet so much as twitched, he would be unceremoniously decapitated.
“Meow , too bad for you, Adlet,” Hans said, smiling. “It wasn’t a bad plan. Most people wouldn’t have thought up turnin’ themselves into a fake Brave. If I hadn’t been here, ya might’ve done a better job foolin’ everyone.”
“Hans, I…”
“Are you gonna say yer not the impostor? That’s not gonna work.” Hans was smirking. “I was blown away when ya went and took a hostage. I thought ya had more brains than that.”
So that had been a poor move, after all. At this point, Adlet was regretting it. But there was no time for that. He had to get himself out of this.
“So why don’t ya spit it out?” goaded Hans. “Who’s behind this? Why’d ya betray the human race and join up with the Evil God? I won’t do ya no wrong if ya come out and tell me all proper-like.”
“I won’t ‘spit it out,’ because I’m not the impostor,” insisted Adlet.
“Ya don’t need to hesitate here. I get it. Ya got yerself a little sob story to explain why, don’t ya? Ya need medicine for yer ailin’ mama? Yer cute little gal got taken hostage?”
“I have no family. I have no lover. I’ll say it as many times as you’d like. I’m not the impostor.”
“Well then, there’ll be nobody left to grieve when yer dead.” Hans’s sword nicked Adlet’s skin.
As it did, Adlet made his move. He hadn’t exhausted all his secret weapons just yet. A single thread was woven through Adlet’s sleeve. He grabbed it with his fingers and pulled. Instantly, one of the pouches at his waist exploded with a bang, and yellow smoke enveloped them.
“Nghmrow! ” With a cry, Hans pressed his hands against his eyes. This wasn’t a mere smoke bomb; it was tear gas that worked equally well against fiends and humans alike.
“Shit! You made me use it, you stupid ass! This hurts so—agh! ” Adlet had taken the hit at point-blank range, so the tear gas had affected him far worse. But still, he had escaped Hans’s grasp. Adlet turned from Hans and tried to run away, but with his eyes stinging so badly he couldn’t see straight, he ran face first into a pillar of salt.
“Mya-mya-mya! Just how stubborn do ya gotta be?!”
“As stubborn as it takes for me to get away, duh!”
As both Braves rubbed their weeping eyes, they fought. Adlet had used his trump card and had only a few of his secret tools left. He knew he couldn’t beat Hans. And at the very least, it was highly unlikely he could get away from him in a head-on situation, either. He couldn’t flee unless he caught Hans off guard with some kind of inspired plan.
Hans could barely see a thing, but his attacks were still extremely fierce. His swords struck at Adlet’s feet, from above, from every direction, as he stuck to Adlet as if they were dancing together.
“Stupid genius,” Adlet muttered.
Hans was unmistakably brilliant. His talent was one in a hundred thousand, or maybe one in a million, or perhaps he was the only one of his kind in the world. How could he wield such fighting technique otherwise? Adlet wasn’t like that. He was ordinary. Hopelessly ordinary. But Adlet thought, Just who decided an ordinary man couldn’t become the strongest in the world?
“I’m not lettin’ ya get away meow!” Hans somersaulted forward in the air. Adlet couldn’t predict what kind of attack was coming. He doubled his guard against the strike from above by blocking with both sword and scabbard. Hans landed, and with a cartwheel, he struck simultaneously with both swords and a kick. While Adlet was busy blocking the swords, the kick slammed into his stomach.
“Ha! That didn’t work at all!” Adlet yelled, even as he felt like he might puke.
The man who’d taught Adlet to fight had never held back. It was by going through hell that Adlet had become strong. He’d trained his body, practiced his sword, and learned all there was to learn about his master’s secret tools. But the more he had trained, the more keenly he’d felt that there was an insurmountable wall between the mundane and the genius.
“Over here!” Adlet taunted, and the moment Hans leaped, Adlet threw his final smoke bomb on the ground, dove underneath Hans, and ran.
All of Adlet’s training had enabled him to somehow manage to block Hans’s attacks—but he couldn’t go on the offensive. An ordinary person couldn’t surpass a prodigy. However, even if he wasn’t as powerful as Hans, he could still win. He could beat a genius, though he lacked innate talent himself. Believing that had allowed Adlet to come this far.
Adlet’s breath was ragged. Their fight had dragged on for a long time. Adlet had used up most of the tools on his belt. Hans was barely scraped, while Adlet’s body was covered in wounds. Even so, Adlet could see the faintest signs of fatigue in his opponent. Hans’s attacks were growing just a little bit less aggressive. Adlet had been waiting for this—the momentary lapse in his assault. Adlet removed one of the belts from which his various pouches hung and threw it away. Confused, Hans stopped. While Hans hesitated, Adlet quickly whipped off the second, third, and then fourth, tossing them all away. The belts fell to the ground between the two warriors.
“…” For the first time, Hans looked leery. He was not so simple a man as to think he was at an advantage because Adlet had thrown away his tools. “Hey…what’re ya doin’?”
“Come at me,” said Adlet. “I don’t need any more tools. I can beat you fair and square.”
“This is some kinda ruse.”
“Yes, it is,” Adlet acknowledged readily. Hans was overwhelmingly his superior when it came to swordplay. It would be crazy for him not to assume it was a trap.
“Meow… ” Hans groaned. He seemed at a loss as to how to continue. It was curious. Hans had been utterly dominating the match thus far, and now that Adlet had thrown away his tools, he was at an even greater advantage. But despite that, Hans was unable to move.
The truth was, if Hans were to charge him without a single thought, Adlet would have been unable to do a thing. But Adlet was convinced that Hans wouldn’t attack. Hans was sharp. And it was that sharpness that immobilized him. Even if Hans realized that the trap was the pretense that there was a trap, he couldn’t attack.
“What’s wrong, Hans? You scared?” taunted Adlet.
“Yeah, I’m scared,” said Hans. “I can’t fool ya there.”
“You’re honest.”
“I do kill people, but I don’t lie. Lyin’ ain’t good.”
Adlet thought about it. In this situation, defeating Hans wouldn’t spell victory. Victory for Adlet was clearing his name and finding the seventh. That was what he was aiming for.
“Meow. ” Hans eyed Adlet warily—looking for something in the boy’s clothes or mouth. To see if there was a weapon he could use among the paraphernalia strewn on the ground. But Hans wasn’t paying attention to the one weapon Adlet still carried—his sword. Adlet took advantage of that.
“!”
Adlet grasped the hilt of his sword and twisted. Instantly, there was the sound of a powerful spring, and the blade of his sword shot out in a straight line, piercing the scabbard at Hans’s waist.
“Meow! ” Hans jumped away.
Without a pause, Adlet yelled, “Hans! You get it, don’t you? You can tell that miss was deliberate!” As he spoke, he threw away the hilt that remained in his hands. Now he was completely unarmed.
“Why’d ya miss?” asked Hans.
“A man of your caliber should understand that, too.” After throwing away the hilt, Adlet then removed his armor and stripped off his clothes. He showed Hans that he was completely unarmed. “Think about it, Hans. If I were the seventh, would I have any reason to deliberately miss? That shot was my only chance to defeat you. Why would I let that opportunity slide by?”
“…Meow. ”
Adlet would use this desperate situation to win Hans over to his side. A man of Hans’s caliber should have understood that Adlet wasn’t the seventh. Please understand , Adlet prayed.
“Yer not gonna trick me,” said Hans.
“If I were the seventh, I would definitely kill you, but not necessarily trick you. It’s incredibly unlikely that I’d be able to deceive you, but I could have almost certainly killed you.”
“…Ngh. ”
“I’m one of the Braves, for real,” said Adlet. “That’s why I couldn’t kill you—you’re my ally. That’s the answer. That’s the reason I missed. Let that convince you!”
Still clenching his sword, Hans agonized.
Adlet was sure his argument was logically consistent. He was certain that it could convince Hans. But there was one big hole in his plan. If Hans was the seventh, then Adlet was completely defenseless and standing before the enemy. This was a gamble. Adlet had no choice but to bet on the chance that Hans wasn’t the traitor. Adlet prayed. Please, Hans, let this convince you. And please be one of the real Braves.
In the end, Hans’s body abruptly went slack. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. Yer a real Brave.” Adlet had convinced him. Suddenly, the boy burst out in a cold sweat all over. It had been a risky bet, but he’d won. What Hans said next, though, chilled his spine. “It’s a good thing I was the one who stayed behind here,” Hans mused. “Ya could’ve convinced any of the others.”
“Huh?”
“You were close. You were real close.” Hans smiled. Adlet ran toward the belts he’d discarded, groping for them. “Too bad I’m the seventh!” Hans cried, moving in the same instant Adlet did. The moment Adlet grabbed one of his belts, Hans sliced Adlet’s throat in a horizontal sweep.
The searing impact ran through Adlet’s body. He felt the sensation of his own head flying away.
But…Adlet was alive, still grasping for his belt. When he touched his neck, his head was still attached. Not a single layer of skin had been cut.
Hans stood behind him, smiling, as he said, “People can lie with their words. They can deceive with their actions. Ya can’t trust their eyes or their voices or the looks on their faces. But right before they’re about to kick off, their expressions don’t lie. A man’s true nature is always there the meowment before he dies.” Adlet wasn’t really listening to Hans. “If ya were the impostor, ya would’ve had a look on yer face like, That’s ridiculous . But the look ya had said, It’s all over . It looks like yer not the impostor.”
“I thought…you’d…cut off…my head…,” Adlet barely managed to squeeze out.
“Right? ’Cause I cut ya in a way that made ya think that.” Hans smiled and then gathered up Adlet’s armor and clothing and threw it at him. “How long are ya gonna stand there like an idiot? Get yer clothes on. I’m not into oglin’ naked men.”
Adlet composed himself and stood. He put on his clothes and belts and reassembled his sword.
“I’ll be countin’ on ya from here on out,” said Hans. Now that Adlet was all equipped, Hans extended a hand to him. Adlet accepted the handshake. “To be honest, I thought it was a little strange. ’Cause if ya were the seventh, there’d be no reason for ya to try to protect Fremy.”
“If you thought so, you should’ve said that in the first place.”
“Meow-hee-hee , sorry.”
Adlet had taken the first step forward, and it was a big one. He now had a dependable ally—and the one who had suspected him most, too—on his side. Adlet was finally starting to feel hopeful.
Fremy and Mora were at the location where Adlet had spent the night.
“There are various traces of his passage here, but…I cannot determine which way he ran.” Mora, who had been crouching as she examined the ground, seemed to have given up as she stood to go.
“The bloodstains and the footprints all cut off partway,” commented Fremy.
“I am forced to consider that scoundrel first-rate when it comes to flight.”
Fremy looked around. “I wonder if he’s still nearby?”
“The possibility is remote. I doubt he would remain here to be found,” said Mora.
“He may have purposely made us believe that and then stayed in the area.”
Mora folded her arms and pondered for a while.
“What’s wrong?” asked Fremy.
“I don’t know. What is Adlet’s aim?”
“He’s just running because he’s out of options.”
“No. He must still be plotting something. His plans thus far have been meticulous. I cannot imagine that this is the end.”
“Whatever the case, we just have to catch up to him. Let’s go. We have no choice but to search for him randomly.” Fremy turned her back to Mora and began walking.
But Mora called out to her. “No need to rush. Let us talk a spell. We can make our move once we have put our thoughts in order.”
“All right,” said Fremy.
“First, I would like to ask you something. Did you know about this trap?”
“No.”
“You have not heard fiends talk to one another of any of this?” Mora asked.
“Is this an interrogation?”
Mora put her hands on Fremy’s shoulders and said, “Wait. Don’t misunderstand me. It’s no surprise that you are cautious around us, due to what occurred yesterday, but we doubt you no more.”
“Oh? What about Hans? And Chamo?” Fremy sounded skeptical.
“Let me amend myself. I doubt you no more. I believe you are our valued comrade.”
“I see.” The pressure of Mora’s gaze caused Fremy to lower her own a few degrees. “Sorry, but I don’t know anything. Fiends split off into their own small units, and there’s almost no interaction between each cell.”
“I thought that they were a more unified lot,” said Mora.
“The internal affairs of fiends are complicated. Far more complicated than you think.”
“I see.”
“Don’t you have any information?” asked Fremy. “We have a human siding with the Evil God. You had no inkling of anything about that?”
“I did not. I suppose I must be ridiculed for my incompetence.” Mora sighed. “Bits of information did reach me. I had heard that some were making deals with fiends and that the monsters had abducted entire villages. But I judged both of these rumors to be false, though I had nothing to substantiate that assumption. Had I fulfilled my duties more thoroughly, I could have prevented this situation.” Mora put a hand to her forehead. Her expression revealed regret.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it. It’s not your responsibility.”
“Oh? So you are capable of being kind,” said Mora smiling. Then she patted Fremy’s head. “Adlet did do one good thing. He brought you to us. Though it may only have been a part of his plot, it was good nonetheless.”
“Don’t treat me like a child.”
“From my perspective, you are a child.”
Fremy shook her head, sweeping aside Mora’s hand.
“It matters not that you were the Brave-killer,” said Mora. “You were simply following orders. When a soldier kills on the battlefield, they are charged with no crime. Though it seems the princess and Goldof are not convinced, in time they will come to understand.”
“…”
“Chamo will warm up to you soon, too. She may be a troublemaker, but she’s not a bad child. As for Hans, just leave him be. There is no need for you to build walls around yourself because you were the Brave-killer or the daughter of a fiend.”
Fremy was silent for a while, refusing to look at Mora. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time chatting. Let’s track down Adlet,” she said, and she broke into a run.
Mora followed after her. “I know there are some things weighing on your mind when it comes to Adlet, since he was the only one who tried to help you when you were under suspicion.” Fremy did not reply. “But you cannot go easy on him,” Mora continued. “He is our enemy—and one frighteningly prone to foul play, to boot.”
“Relax. I hate him from the bottom of my heart,” said Fremy.
“That’s the spirit. As soon as we find him, kill him. Be sure to kill him, Fremy.” Be sure to kill him , Mora emphasized over and over. She repeated it so many times, her persistence began irritating the former Brave-killer.
Nashetania and Goldof were near the border of the barrier, at the end of the road that led to the Howling Vilelands, where the Braves of the Six Flowers were supposed to have gathered. Mora and Hans had been waiting there until the day before.
“Can you hear anything from the direction of the temple?” asked Goldof.
“No, nothing,” Nashetania replied. “But never mind that. We have to search for Adlet.”
Hidden in the broad thicket by the side of the path was a pit. It looked like Mora and Hans had been hiding there. Her expression grave, Nashetania searched the pit, but she was the only one pursuing the matter with such fervor. Goldof did nothing but stand and scowl.
“It’s no good,” said Nashetania as she emerged from the pit. “Hans and Mora were most definitely here, but that was all I could find out. Hans must have received some kind of information from the fiends here, but there are no signs that any approached this area.” Nashetania scratched her head. “I want to meet with Mora. Though I wonder if she will listen. She believes that Adlet is the seventh. How can I convince her?”
“Your Highness…”
“I’m angry at myself. I am unable to do anything or think of anything, even though they could be killing Adlet right this minute!”
“Your Highness, stop it already, please!” shouted Goldof, unable to stand it any longer.
Nashetania glared at him. “I thought you said you trusted me.”
“Adlet is our enemy! You may say what you will, but that will not change!”
“That’s enough. If you don’t trust me, then I will just have to go after him by myself!” Nashetania said, but she immediately put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Goldof. That was going too far.” Her expression was sorrowful. “I cannot believe this. I never imagined we would have a shouting match like this, not ever.”
Goldof also looked pained. The moment Nashetania turned her back to him, the dam broke. “Your Highness, why Adlet?”
“Huh?”
“Why do you trust him and not me, who has served you ever since my youth?”
“What do you mean?” asked Nashetania.
“Pardon my saying so, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen you like this,” he said. “You’ve been acting wild, when you’ve always been so much more composed. You’re not yourself! Something has changed you!” Nashetania was dumbfounded. “Just what is he to you?!” Goldof demanded. “How can you be so concerned with this—this outlaw who barged into the Tournament Before the Divine, this oaf who came from who knows where whom you have known for only a short journey of ten days?!”
Nashetania looked at Goldof, her face overcome with surprise. “No, you are not yourself.”
“Your Highness, I—”
“What are you talking about, Goldof? The fate of the world hangs in the balance with this battle, and it’s only just begun. The life of one of our allies is in danger. How could I act normally?”
“I—I—”
“Adlet is our ally. He is a valuable comrade in our fight as we stand together against the Evil God. What did you think it was besides that?”
“…”
“You’re not yourself,” said Nashetania. “I apologize, but this is not the time to be making concessions to your jealousy.”
“You’re right. I should be protecting you. I haven’t been myself.” Goldof was looking at the ground. He was so humiliated he was trembling.
“Goldof, I noticed your feelings quite some time ago. But now is not the time. It really is not the time.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Let us forget this conversation,” she said.
“As you wish.”
Nashetania breathed a quiet sigh. “So even you can lose your composure at times. Of course, you’re still only sixteen. Still a child. I had thought of you as someone I could rely on, so I had forgotten.”
“…”
“We don’t understand each other as well as I had thought, I suppose.” Nashetania returned to her search, and Goldof stood there, paralyzed. Her manner gave him the impression that there was now a large rift in their master-servant relationship.
“Hey, let’s search the whole temple through one more time,” proposed Hans.
Adlet and Hans went into the temple together and checked again to see if there were any possible exits or hidden doors. But they couldn’t find anything, not even a trace. As they searched, Adlet was a little cautious around Hans. If they couldn’t find anything, maybe Hans might decide Adlet was the seventh, after all.
Hans nimbly clung to the ceiling, checking to make sure nothing was strange about any of it. “Hmmmeow. There’s got to be somethin’,” he said. It didn’t look like Hans was reconsidering his judgment. He didn’t even seem leery of Adlet.
That made Adlet a little suspicious himself—maybe Hans actually was the seventh, and he was just watching to see what Adlet would do.
“What’re ya doin’?” asked Hans. “Yer the one in trouble here. Keep lookin’.”
“Y-you’re right. Sorry.” Flustered, Adlet returned to his task of examining the floor. It was a frightening thing, for one among them to be an impostor. It made them unable to trust even those they should trust most. For the time being, Adlet couldn’t afford to doubt Hans. He had no choice but to bet that Hans was really one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.
“Nope, no exits here,” Hans said as he released his grip on the ceiling and landed on the floor. They had investigated the entire floor and every wall, and all they had learned was that there was no way out. “I’ve got no idea,” said Hans. “If yer not the seventh, that means somebody must have come in here before you did. But there’s no way in. What does this mean?”
“It must have been a Saint, after all,” said Adlet. “She had the power to create a way out, or the power to pass through walls. Or even a power that would allow her to close a door once it had been opened.”
“But Mora said there weren’t no Saints like that. So does that mean we should be suspectin’ her?” asked Hans.
Mora had asserted that she was informed as to the powers of every single Saint. She had also said that even a Saint would have been unable to enter the temple without leaving a trace of her passage. There was the possibility that she had been lying.
“That’d be premature,” said Adlet. “There might be one with abilities that Mora doesn’t know about. The eighth could be one of the Saints that Mora knows—she’s just hiding some of her abilities.”
“True. But then…that means this is a stalemeowt.”
“Yeah… Oops, I almost forgot.” Adlet opened up the iron box that he’d left in a corner of the temple. Fleeing from the others and fighting with Hans had used up all of Adlet’s tools. He had to restock in preparation for the next battle.
“Ya sure have a lot of stuff. Ain’t there anythin’ we could use? Like some kinda lie detector?” asked Hans as he peered into the iron box.
“All I brought with me are tools to fight fiends. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve brought other stuff, too.” That was when Adlet found an iron bottle tucked away at the very bottom of his box. He pulled it out and started thinking.
“What’s up?” asked Hans. “Figured out who the seventh is?”
“No…not exactly, but…” Adlet thought some more. Then he pulled the stopper from the little spray bottle with red liquid inside. He spritzed some of it on the altar.
“What’re ya doin’?”
“Oh, this isn’t anything that major, but…”
“What?” Hans examined the little bottle.
Just as Adlet was about to explain, they heard a faint sound from outside the temple. Hans immediately ran outside, and Adlet stowed the bottle away in one of his belt pouches. “Has someone come back?” Adlet poked his face out the broken door, looking around the area.
Hans gave him a wave to signal that there was no trouble. “They might come back soon,” he said.
“We should hurry.”
The two of them searched the outside of the temple for any indicator that there was a way in. As before, they found nothing—no traces of anything unnatural and no footprints. They didn’t even get a faint feeling that something was out of place.
“What’re we gonna do meow, though?” asked Hans. “Things ain’t gonna be so great once the others come back.”
“We could give up searching here and look for the eighth,” Adlet suggested.
“Just at random?” Hans replied. “I’d like to find some kinda clue, at least.”
Adlet leaned against a pillar of salt, closed his eyes, and reflected. He couldn’t find any proof that the eighth even existed, to say nothing of clues as to the conspirator’s identity. But the eighth had to exist, because when Adlet had walked into the temple, the barrier had already been up. Someone had initiated it beforehand. When the barrier activated, Fremy, Nashetania, and Goldof had all been together. Hans and Mora had been together. Only one of them had been alone.
“Maybe Chamo?” Adlet speculated. She’d wandered into the temple on her own. No one could prove what she’d been doing or where she’d been before that.
But even if she had no alibi, that didn’t change the fact that it would have been impossible for Chamo to enter the temple. Either way, Adlet wouldn’t be able to resolve anything without finding a way someone could have broken into the temple.
“By the way,” said Hans, “we were all in a rush, so I didn’t get the chance to ask ya somethin’…”
“What?”
“How d’ya turn on this barrier? I didn’t stop by the fort, so I don’t really know.”
“So Mora didn’t tell you? The barrier…,” Adlet began, and then he stopped. Lights flickered on in his head. What Hans had said was important.
“What is it?” asked Hans.
Adlet racked his brain to recall everything from the time he’d entered the fort until the present, including every single word each of them had exchanged. And he was convinced that his flash of insight was on the mark. “Chamo.”
“She’s the seventh?”
“No. There’s something I want to ask her,” said Adlet. “Where is she now?”
“Chamo should be playin’ around here somewhere. I’m too much of a scaredy-cat to call her, though.”
“It wouldn’t be good for me to be seen here, I’m sure. You go. Just ask her one thing.”
“Ask her what?”
“Well…” Adlet was about to tell him what the question was when he caught sight of a big earthworm right in front of them. It was gliding over the ground with unbelievable speed, heading into the forest. A moment passed, and then a voice called out from the direction that the creature had gone.
“Chamo’s right here.” The young Saint came over to them, her foxtail swaying in her right hand. “Wasn’t this guy the fake, catboy? Why’re you guys just chatting casually?”
Hans panicked and stood in front of Adlet. “Meow. Don’t attack him, Chamo. I’ve found out he’s not the enemy.”
“That sounds weird. Why not?”
“Well—”
“If it’s gonna be a long story, don’t bother.” Chamo cut him off. “Chamo doesn’t really care, anyway.”
Hans was confused. Adlet didn’t know what Chamo was thinking, either. Did she even want to find the seventh?
“Being stuck here sucks,” said Chamo. “It’s boring being alone, and there’s nothing to play with. Chamo wants to get out now and go kill fiends.”
“I get it,” said Adlet. “Me too. So there’s something I want to ask you. This is really important so we can find out who’s the seventh.”
But Chamo just gave him a bored pout. “Chamo’s sick of that stuff about who’s the fake and who’s real or whatever.” She raised her foxtail and smiled faintly. As she did, goose bumps raised on Adlet’s skin. “It’s probably you, Adlet. Then if it’s not you, Fremy. Then if it’s not her, catboy. If it’s not him, then obviously it’s the princess and the big guy. Auntie Mora couldn’t be the seventh, so Chamo won’t kill her.”
“Wait, Chamo! What are you talking about?!” Adlet yelled, and as he did, he reflexively drew his sword. Hans, too, arched his back in a catlike fighting stance.
“If you all die, there’s no enemy. Just Chamo alone is enough to beat one lame Evil God.” Chamo’s foxtail moved. She put the tip into her mouth and pushed it to the back of her throat. She made a retching noise and gagged dramatically. Soon Chamo was vomiting loudly, spewing black and brown mixed with dirty green onto the ground. The amount was unnatural—ten times more than the volume of her small frame.
“Meow—m-meow! ” Hans cried out in fear.
The vomit was taking shape into a gigantic snake, a leech, a frog, and a lizard—the forms of fiends that lived in the water.
“Time to explain. There’s a swamp in Chamo’s stomach. All the creatures Chamo’s ever eaten live together in harmony in a swamp inside,” she explained as she wiped the drool off with her sleeve. The fiends rushed Adlet and Hans all at once.
“Run! ” cried Hans.
“I’m with you there!” agreed Adlet.
The two of them turned without a moment’s hesitation. But there were even more fiends waiting for them in the forest. Adlet and Hans ran back the other way, passing through the pillars of salt. But the fiends Chamo had spat up disregarded the barrier, rushing in to attack Adlet and Hans. There were nearly fifty of the regurgitated creatures surrounding the temple.
“We’ve got no choice!” Adlet yelled. Now they could do nothing but fight. Adlet pulled a bomb from one of his pouches and tossed it into the mouth of a snake-fiend. Hans whirled through the air to cut off the head of an attacking lizard, but in moments, the fiends revived as if the assault had been nothing at all. The two men cooperated to bring down a water spider that sprang at them, but when Adlet and Hans tore off its eight legs, they grew back again instantly.
“What in the heck is this?” groaned Hans. “How can we fight meownsters like these?” Adlet finally understood why Fremy was so terrified of Chamo.
The fiends from Chamo’s stomach lined up in a row and then curved into a circle. Now there was nowhere for the pair to run.
“Stop screwing around, Chamo!” yelled Adlet. “Why’re you attacking Hans, too?!”
“Why not?” she said. “You can’t prove he’s not a fake, too.”
“You idiot! What are you thinking?!” Adlet was enraged.
But the look on Chamo’s face told him she didn’t even get why he was so mad. “Here’s an idea. Chamo kills you, and then if the barrier goes away, catboy doesn’t need to die.”
Adlet looked at Hans. Hans smiled wryly and said, “Don’t worry. That ain’t gonna happen.” Hans pointed his sword at Chamo.
“Hans,” said Adlet. “If there’s no getting out of this, you should escape, at least.”
“Screw that. Don’t you start tryin’ to act the heroic martyr.”
The two of them charged at Chamo. She smiled and vomited up even more fiends.
Trapped within a ring of demons, Adlet and Hans fought. Chamo stood between them in the center of the ring, her arms crossed.
Chamo was their only target. There was no point in trying to fight her fiends. But no matter how many times they charged, one monster after another stood in their way. They even blocked Adlet’s projectiles with their own bodies.
“Attacking separately isn’t gonna work! We’ve gotta work together!” shouted Adlet.
“Meow! I know! You come up with somethin’!”
The two of them split up and then came at her from either side. Adlet drew her attention while Hans circled around behind her. Neither of their attacks connected. Each fiend moved independently. There was no point trying to catch Chamo off guard.
The little Saint giggled. “That’s what everyone does. Trying to work together to get Chamo, huh? Nobody’s ever been able to do that.” There was no anxiety in her voice—she didn’t act as though she was in the middle of a fight.
“Can’t ya think of anythin’, Adlet?!” Hans yelled.
The world’s strongest man was unable to reply. A leech-fiend had come up from behind to spray acid at him. Adlet jumped sideways to evade it, but then a lizard-fiend pressed down on him from above. He cut open the lizard’s stomach with his sword and tossed the creature behind him.
Adlet was tired. He hadn’t yet recovered from his battle with Hans, and it was probably the same for Hans, too. The longer this dragged out, the greater their disadvantage. “Hans! Cover me!” Adlet cried.
As Hans sliced open a frog-fiend’s tongue, he replied, “I’ve got my hands full here! Don’t ya get lazy meow!”
“While you’re protecting me, I can think!” said Adlet.
Hans made a wide leap to stand beside Adlet, and then, as he’d been told, he fought off Adlet’s attackers. The way he moved seemed frantic and reckless. He wouldn’t last long.
“How long can you hold out?” Adlet asked him so as not to be overheard.
“Sixty seconds,” Hans replied.
“Once those sixty seconds are up, don’t think of anything else—just rush Chamo. I’ll back you up,” said Adlet, and then he fixed his eyes on their target as his thoughts raced.
First, he had to pick out an effective tool. Adlet threw a variety of poisoned needles and checked their effects. The sleeping needle and the paralysis needle didn’t work, but the needle that caused pain was effective. Next, he took the bottle of alcohol from its pouch and poured some into his mouth. He clacked the flint in his teeth and sprayed the fiends with flames. All the fiends Chamo controlled were aquatic—so flame worked, after all.
“Whoa, that’s surprising. Spitting fire isn’t something normal people can do,” Chamo said nonchalantly.
You’re the last one I wanna hear that from , thought Adlet. And then he pulled one more tool from another pouch—the one he’d used when he and Nashetania had been protecting the villagers, the flute that attracted fiends’ attention. Fire, poison needles, and the flute. Would those be enough to stop Chamo? Adlet doubted it. His plan needed one more thing.
But Hans couldn’t hold out much longer. They’d have to play it by ear from here. “Hans, go!” Adlet yelled, and he blew the flute. All the fiends twitched in response and turned toward Adlet. While they were distracted, Hans closed most of the distance between himself and Chamo. Adlet blew fire at the fiends that attacked him to keep them at bay. But the flute could serve as a distraction for only a moment. The fiends attacked Hans from both sides, but Hans made no move to evade them. He trusted Adlet, and Adlet did not betray that trust. He pierced the fiends with poison needles thrown so quickly his hands were a blur. The fiends shrieked, their bodies writhing in agony.
“Hope you’re ready for this, Chamo!” cried Hans.
Hans leaped. There was nothing between him and his target. But Adlet still didn’t think this would be enough. Fremy had been so terrified of Chamo. It would take more than a simple surprise attack.
Chamo smirked. “Dummies,” she said, opening her mouth wide.
As she did, Adlet yelled, “Don’t dodge! Block it!”
A large, armful-sized sea roach spewed from Chamo’s mouth. It charged Hans like a ball from a cannon. Hans crossed his swords to block the sea roach’s attack in midair. It hurled him away easily. But now Adlet moved—he made a beeline toward Hans and Chamo and then jumped, kicking Hans in the back with both feet. The kick offset Hans’s backward momentum to send him spinning in the air like a ball.
Adlet yelled, “Finish her, Hans!”
Hans soared toward Chamo. Chamo looked as though she didn’t understand what was going on as she stared at the man.
“Got ya meow!” Hans cried as he whirled through the air. He struck Chamo’s head with the flat of his blade. Chamo collapsed, and Hans landed with a roll.
Both feet back on the ground, Adlet ran toward Chamo. But there was no need to strike the final blow—she was unconscious. Instantly, her fiends lost form. They returned to their original mud-like state and, in only a few seconds, were sucked back into Chamo’s mouth.
“Adlet! Stopper her up!” Hans yelled.
Adlet pulled bandages from one of his pouches and shoved them into the unconscious girl’s mouth. “Mgnh! ” Chamo’s eyes opened, and she tried to spit them out.
“Meow! Don’t let her spit ’em out!”
Adlet grabbed both of Chamo’s arms with one hand, and with the other, he stuffed the bandages farther into her mouth. Hans got to his feet and ran toward them to help pin down the squirming Chamo. “Stop strugglin’!” ordered Hans.
“I’m tying her up!” said Adlet.
The two of them discarded their swords and wrestled Chamo. Adlet pulled out another bandage and forcibly tied it around her head as a gag. He then removed his belt, using it to bind her arms behind her back. Even then, Chamo continued struggling for a while, but eventually, she settled down.
Once the fight was over, Adlet was so exhausted he just didn’t say anything for a while. Hans was the same. They were tired—just incredibly tired.
“My back hurts,” Hans muttered.
The two of them lay collapsed on the ground beside Chamo for a long while.
“So what are we gonna do? What’re we gonna do?” they asked each other.
They both looked at Chamo where she lay on the ground. She was glaring at Adlet with the expression of a child who had gotten up to no good, been scolded for it, and was now sulking, as if saying, You don’t have to get so mad at me .
When she’s not fighting, she really is just a kid , thought Adlet. “I don’t think Chamo is the seventh,” he said.
“Me neither,” agreed Hans.
The seventh was most likely an exceedingly well-prepared and cautious person. The way Chamo acted, on the other hand, was incredibly shortsighted and careless. Of course, Adlet couldn’t say anything for sure.
“Meow. Since we’ve come to this temple, we’ve done nothin’ but fight our own allies.”
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