Rokka no Yuusha - Volume 2 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 
Mora’s Secret Contract 

On a certain day three years earlier, an incident had occurred at All Heavens Temple that would lead Mora to kill Hans. 
In a tiny annex in one corner of All Heavens Temple was the warm and humble abode where Mora, her husband, and their daughter Shenira lived. The time-worn interior of the building still contained the antique furnishings that had once belonged to the previous Temple Elder. The modestly built home was appropriate for a servant of the spirits. 
Mora sat down on the sofa in the parlor, covering her face with trembling hands. One month had passed since she had begun coaching Nashetania and the other girls. 
“Lady Mora…are you listening?” 
There were three people in the parlor—Mora; her husband, Ganna; and the one who had spoken, a middle-aged woman in a plain white dress. Her name was Torleau Maynus, the Saint of Medicine. Her powers were only for healing wounds and curing illnesses—she essentially had no offensive capabilities. Reaching out indiscriminately to all who asked for her aid, the great Saint traveled around the world with the doctors under her command. She was one of the people who Mora respected most. 
“Lady Mora…please, hold yourself together,” Torleau said to the trembling Mora. The Temple Elder was incapable of any reply. It hurt to breathe, and her vision wavered. It was all she could do just to sit up straight. 
“I apologize, Saint Torleau. My wife is not in a state for discussion. I shall speak with you instead.” Ganna pulled Mora’s hand and tried to escort her out of the room. 
But she let go of his hand and sat down on the sofa again. “I’m sorry. Say that once more.” 
“Yes. Shenira’s illness…is beyond my ability to treat.” 
Two weeks before, Shenira had complained of intense pain in her chest, and a strange, centipede-shaped mark had appeared on its left side. This condition had never been seen before. Her pain had worsened day by day, and eventually, it had gotten so bad that it had brought her to screams and cries. Her agony did not lessen one bit, and ten days after her illness had begun, she had ripped off her nails from clawing her chest so much. 
Mora had done everything in her power. She had brought the doctors stationed at the temple to see Shenira, had summoned the most famous physicians in the nation, and had attempted to cure Shenira herself with the energy of the mountains. Finally, she had written a letter to Torleau, off in a faraway land, requesting that she come swiftly via horseback to All Heavens Temple. 
“Tell me, Torleau. Please, tell me what is happening to her.” 
But three days earlier, the moment Torleau had arrived at All Heavens Temple, Shenira’s pain had suddenly stopped. The centipede-like mark had remained, along with the scars on her chest and fingers, but otherwise, she seemed entirely fine. Though puzzled, Torleau had examined Shenira nonetheless. Mora had hoped that since the pain was gone, Shenira would be all right—but those hopes were dashed. 
“A parasitic insect is nesting in her heart,” said Torleau. “I’ve never seen or even heard of this thing before. I’ve tried every medicine I can think of, and I have no idea why they aren’t working. I even pierced her chest with a needle to pour a solution directly onto the insect.” 
“What…what will happen to her now?” asked Mora. 
“I don’t know.” 
“Please. Just tell me it’s not true.” 
The Saint of Medicine shook her head, then covered her face with her hands and cried. “This is awful, Mora. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” 
Blaming Torleau had never occurred to Mora. The Saint of Medicine had done everything she could. If her daughter could not be cured, even after Torleau had tried everything, then… 
A knock sounded on the parlor door. “Mommy, Daddy…” They could hear Shenira on the other side. 
“Ganna, please,” begged Mora. “Don’t tell her.” 
“I won’t. It’s okay.” Her husband must also have been grieving—in fact, this must have been an even greater shock to him. Only his sense of duty to support Mora allowed him to maintain a tenuous hold on his composure. He went to speak to his daughter on the other side of the door. “Shenira, your mother has to talk about something very important. This is a Saints’ conversation, so you’re not allowed to listen.” 
“Daddy, am I not gonna get better?” Shenira asked, sounding anxious. 
“What are you talking about?” Ganna replied. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it? Auntie Torleau says you’re going to be okay.” 
“I’m better? But my chest is a funny color.” 
“That mark will disappear over time. It got better because you hung on. You’re a good girl, Shenira.” Father and daughter walked down the hallway. Left behind, Mora quietly sobbed as Torleau watched over her. 
Torleau left some medicine with Mora and then departed All Heavens Temple. Mora tried to make her stay, but Ganna stopped her. Even if the Saint of Medicine remained with them, she still wouldn’t be able to help, and she had a responsibility to save all those who suffered from illness around the world. 
After that, Mora left her duties as Temple Elder to her husband and shut herself in her room. Shenira was anxious, worried that now her mother was the one who was ill. But three days later, Mora received a letter from Torleau, even though she was supposed to have been long gone. Written on the front of the envelope was the word Urgent , along with a note that indicated the contents inside were not to be seen by anyone but Mora. 
Alone in her private room, she read the letter. Her expression turned fearful, then angry. 
“What the hell is this about, Mora?” 
Five days had passed since receiving the letter from Torleau. Late at night, another Saint stood before her. The two of them were not in the parlor at All Heavens Temple but at an old fortress about two days’ hurried travel by coach. There was no sign of other people inside the old fortress or its surroundings. Even the coachman had been sent away. The bastion was cold and utterly silent. 
“Agh , this is such a chore. I want a drink. If you’ve got something to say, get it over with already,” said the Saint, brushing back her dyed-red hair. Her decadent makeup did not befit a Saint, and her dress was lavish. The boozy smell of her hangover wafted all the way to Mora’s nose. This was a beauty with the air of sloth. Her name was Marmanna Keynes, and she was the Saint of Words. 
“I’m sorry for summoning you out here on such short notice. I apologize for my rudeness.” Mora bowed her head. 
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now,” said Marmanna. “If you don’t mind.” 
“What is it?” 
“Why do you never age? How do you stay so young?” 
“I eat my vegetables and don’t stay up late.” 
“…That’s not very useful to me.” 
I don’t care , thought Mora. 
Marmanna had received the power of the Spirit of Words. Among all the seventy-eight Saints, hers was the one that could be called heretical. She had no offensive capabilities, but her abilities were extremely useful. The power of the Saint of Words could prohibit lies and coerce people into keeping their oaths. Breaking any vow made to Marmanna was never forgiven—if you did break one, you would find yourself paying the appropriate, unavoidable price. This would continue to hold even after Marmanna’s death. No Saint or fiend could nullify her abilities. The previous Saints of Words had used their power to act as witness to transactions between kings, nobles, and powerful merchants. 
“Well, if this summons is for business, it can’t be anything good,” said Marmanna. “You want me to witness some backroom deal? Or make sure some paramour of yours keeps quiet?” 
“I suppose it is a backroom deal. I want to ask you to help me guarantee that a certain deal will be honored. It would cause difficulties for me were the other party to renege on their word later.” 
Marmanna giggled. “Oh my, a hushed exchange behind closed doors. And from the irreproachably moral Lady Mora! I’m dying to know what kind of arrangement this is.” 
“My daughter has been taken hostage. I’m about to negotiate with her abductor.” The letter to Mora under Torleau’s name had in fact been from the one who had implanted the parasite within Shenira’s body. The culprit had designated a date and time for Mora to come to this old fortress. If Mora refused, her daughter would die. 
“Oh my, Shenira’s been kidnapped? Ah-ha-ha! ” Marmanna laughed cruelly. Mora glared at her, but the Saint of Words was not perturbed. The Elder beckoned, and they walked deeper into the old fortress. Within was the party she would be negotiating with. 
“Kids just aren’t worth it,” said Marmanna. “What’s so great about them?” 
“You’ll understand if you have one. If you don’t, you never will.” 
“Plenty of parents never understand even when they do have kids, though.” 
Mora didn’t reply to that. “I summoned Willone as well,” she said instead, “but she couldn’t make it in time.” 
“Willone? What did you call that idiot for?” 
Willone, the Saint of Salt, had been one of Mora’s students about a month earlier. She was skilled in close-quarters combat, wielding a purifying power that could drive out poison and evil presences. 
“I can trust her skills in battle, and I can trust her as a person, too.” 
“Hey…are you dealing with someone dangerous, here?” Marmanna’s expression tensed. 
The pair approached the location of Mora’s appointment. Marmanna couldn’t feel anything, but Mora sensed a presence ahead—that of a strong foe. 
They reached the deepest part of the fortress, a place that looked like the king’s quarters. A curious sound echoed from within. The sound of chewing. Not human chewing—the kind of sound that a beast or something even more fearsome would make. Something was enjoying a meal, violently and greedily. 
On the ruins of the throne there sat a large shadow. Garbage was scattered about—the wings and feet of songbirds, a half-eaten fig, raw wheat, and frogs’ legs. A fiend was sinking its teeth into a raw boar’s head. As Mora and Marmanna watched, the whole head sank into the creature’s mouth in the blink of an eye, bones and all. The being had the face of a lizard and the body of a beast, and on its back, three wings. Mora’s instincts told her this was the one that had written the letter—Tgurneu. 
“Hello,” said the fiend. 
“Tgurneu, was it? You’re quite the vulgar creature,” retorted Mora, looking up at the fiend as it licked off its palm. 
“Pardon me. I’m such a horribly voracious eater. If I were to miss a meal, I’d be dead of starvation before you know it. I’ll clean up. Hold on.” 
Were this creature’s manners good or bad? Either way, Tgurneu gathered the fallen scraps into a bag before approaching the Saints. “It’s nice to meet you, Mora. My name is Tgurneu. I’m the foremost retainer of the great Evil God.” The fiend put its hand on its chest and bowed respectfully. Its body language was so human, but its form was not. It made for an unbearably eerie sight. 
“…Ah-ha, ah-ha-ha! This really isn’t what I expected, Mora!” Marmanna’s voice trembled. 
“Pardon me,” said Tgurneu, “who is the beautiful lady here?” 
“This is Marmanna, Saint of Words,” said Mora. “I asked her to be witness to our negotiations.” 
“I thought I told you to come alone.” 
“I never said I would.” 
Tgurneu shrugged and then bowed to Marmanna as he had to Mora. “Well, whatever. You can never have too many opportunities to meet a lovely lady.” 
“Ah-ha! I got a compliment from a fiend.” Marmanna laughed, and Tgurneu approached her, hand extended. Wondering what the creature could be thinking, she took its hand and gave it a proper bow. 
“Now we will negotiate,” declared Mora. “Marmanna, I must have you swear to me one thing: Do not speak of what we are about to discuss here today to anyone.” 
“Of course. If this story got out, it’d cause an uproar,” said Marmanna. She used her power as the Saint of Words, manifesting a little ball of light from the tip of her index finger, and spoke to it. “This I swear to the Spirit of Words: I will speak to no one of what happens today in this place. May I die if I break this promise.” The ball of light jumped into Marmanna’s chest. Now the oath was complete. Not even Marmanna herself could release herself from this contract. 
“Tgurneu, you will swear, too,” instructed Mora. “Do not speak of this to any humans, fiends, or the Evil God. I take it you won’t mind that?” If what was about to occur in this place were revealed to the world, Mora’s life would be over. She would most likely be banished from All Heavens Temple and lose her qualifications as the Saint of Mountains. Her husband and daughter could also come under fire, as the family of the evildoer who had contracted with a fiend. 
“Sure.” Surprisingly enough, Tgurneu agreed readily. “I doubt you would strike a deal with me if I didn’t. Then I would have come here for nothing.” 
Marmanna created a ball of light, and Tgurneu swore to it. The ball of light sank into its chest, and the contract was complete. The power of the Saint of Words also worked on fiends. About two hundred years before, experiments on captive ones had confirmed that as fact. 
“My, my, Mora. You’re not going to swear?” asked the creature. 
“Is it necessary?” 
“…Well, whatever, then.” Tgurneu shrugged. “Now then, let’s begin the negotiations. As you know, one of my subordinates has created a parasite, and right now, it nests in your daughter’s heart. The only way it can be removed is by my personal order for it to destroy itself. With a snap of my fingers, I could make your daughter suffer hellish agony and die. You’ve already had a taste of what that anguish could be like.” The ten-day nightmare Shenira had endured—that had been a threat for Mora. Rage so intense it made her dizzy welled up inside her. 
“But don’t worry, Mora. I have no desire for your adorable little Shenira’s death. If you hear my request, then I’ll save her. If I order that parasite to destroy itself, it will vanish in an instant.” 
“What is your demand?” 
“Do you really need ask? I have only one desire.” Arms spread wide, Tgurneu gesticulated like a bad actor. “The Evil God’s resurrection is nigh—our third encounter, with the life or death of mankind and fiendkind hanging in the balance—the final battle is at hand.” 
“Tell me your demand,” Mora repeated. 
“Mora, I want you to kill the Braves of the Six Flowers.” 
She replied without hesitation. “I refuse.” 
Tgurneu regarded her for a moment. “…Oh?” 
“If the Braves of the Six Flowers are defeated, then the world will end. If the Evil God is fully revived, then my daughter and husband will both die. That would make any deal moot.” 
Marmanna looked at Mora with wide eyes. “Wait, are you serious? Didn’t you come here to save Shenira?” 
The Elder did not reply. She crossed her arms to hide her shaking hands. What she really wanted to do was throw herself at Tgurneu’s feet and beg for mercy. She wanted to cry out that she would do anything to preserve her daughter’s life. But that would not save Shenira. She couldn’t keep her beloved daughter safe if she didn’t keep the world safe, too. 
Tgurneu pondered quietly, and then, for some reason, suddenly burst into applause. “That’s a good answer, Mora. I thought you might say that.” The fiend’s hands stilled, and it continued with a smile. “Now then, let’s continue our negotiation. The night is still long. We have plenty of time for discussion.” Tgurneu carried over two chairs that had been beside the throne and offered them to Mora and Marmanna, then sat down on the rubble. “I understand, Mora. You’ve come here to save your daughter. You’ve come here to make a deal. We have some talking to do.” 
Mora hesitated for a moment, then took a seat on one of the chairs. Though confused, Marmanna sat down as well. “If you have other demands, I shall comply,” said Mora. “If it’s my life you want, I can offer it to you this instant. But under no circumstances will I take the Braves’ lives.” 
“Is that so? But I don’t want your life.” Tgurneu smiled an uncanny smile. “I can say this with certainty, Mora: I will make you kill the Braves of the Six Flowers.” 
With Tgurneu rushing at him, Adlet realized that it hadn’t even occurred to him that this might happen. The attack from underground had taken them all by surprise. But most shocking of all was that he hadn’t even imagined that an enemy would ambush them alone. 
“Whoops, I forgot.” Tgurneu suddenly stopped. 
After it had escaped their team attack, Adlet’s allies had surrounded the fiend, readying their weapons. Not perturbed in the slightest, Tgurneu smiled and said, “Come now, don’t be so impatient, Braves. There’s something that must be done before we fight, now, isn’t there?” 
“What did you say?” 
“We must greet one another. When you meet someone, you say hello. When you part ways, you say good-bye. Greetings are the first step toward living a bright life, right?” 
Adlet didn’t understand what Tgurneu was talking about. He got what the words meant, but he couldn’t grasp the intentions behind them. 
Beside him, Hans bobbed his head in a bow. “Hello, meow .” 
“That’s it, Hans. Hello to you, too. All right, then, let’s start this fight.” Tgurneu opened its mouth and raised its face to the heavens. Adlet couldn’t hear the sound, but it was yelling something. It had sent a message at a special frequency only fiends could hear. 
“It’s called for reinforcements,” said Fremy. From just beyond the hill to the northwest sounded the faint voices of fiends. A tiny tremor rippled through the ground toward them. Adlet now realized that the reason there had been no sign of any fiends in the Ravine of Spitten Blood was because they had been gathering their forces for this surprise attack. 
“This is bad, Adlet. What do we do?” Fremy asked him. 
“Need you even ask?! We destroy this monster here and now! Attack, all at once!” Mora yelled and charged Tgurneu, who stood there with an obvious lack of concern. But none of the others followed. “Why do you hesitate?!” In a panic, she stopped and hopped back. 
“Come here, Adlet. What’s wrong? Let’s enjoy a nice battle to the death.” With a broad smirk, Tgurneu took one step toward him. 
The boy hesitated. The hill would soon be surrounded, and Tgurneu might have engineered a trap. Furthermore, they had no idea what the seventh might do. Normally, he would not hesitate to flee from this sort of situation. You can’t fight on the enemy’s playing field—Atreau had taught him that. 
But at this point, Adlet was not thinking calmly. “Chamo! Hans! Goldof! You hold back the reinforcements coming from the northwest!” he yelled, grasping his sword in his right hand. “You back us up from a distance, Fremy! Mora and Rolonia, stick with me!” He pulled a smoke bomb from the belt at his waist and threw it at the commander’s feet, dashing into the smoke as he did. “We’re taking Tgurneu down!” 
They all moved simultaneously. Chamo stuffed her foxtail down her throat and vomited up the monsters known as slave-fiends from her stomach. Hans and Goldof ran together with them, heading northwest. 
Fremy jumped backward, raised her gun, and aimed at Tgurneu. Her role was to hold the fiend still and cover the others. Mora circled around from behind and charged, joining Adlet in a pincer attack. 
“That’s it,” said Tgurneu. “I thought you might do that.” From the smoke, a single arm reached out to the redhead, who ducked to the ground to avoid it. Though Adlet had blocked the counterattack with his sword before, the impact had made his arms go numb. Tgurneu was far stronger and much faster. The smoke bomb hadn’t worked, either. 
Mora swung her iron gauntlet toward her foe’s shoulder, but it dodged her without moving its lower body at all. The fiend’s supple and efficient movements indicated clearly it had studied martial arts. Right, left, right, left—Mora fired off punch after punch, but she didn’t even graze Tgurneu. “Get back, Adlet! You cannot match its power!” she yelled. 
But Adlet knew that already. He could not hope to match Tgurneu in a head-on fight, no matter how much he struggled, but he had come this far with the intent of fighting such powerful enemies. He took the second strike with his pauldron, making sure to decrease the force of impact. It knocked the wind out of him, and his bones groaned—but in that moment he took the secret tool hidden in his left hand and slapped it onto Tgurneu’s arm. 
It was a cuff attached to a long chain. As the spike, fitted into the metal piece on the end of the chain, bit into the fiend’s flesh, sturdy wire instantly wrapped itself around Tgurneu’s arm. 
“Hmm.” Tgurneu’s voice seemed to rumble. 
Adlet sheathed his sword and grabbed the chain with both hands, pulling the fiend’s restrained left arm as hard as he could. When it lost its balance, Mora hit it in the face. 
“I see. So you’re trying to hold me still,” observed Tgurneu, jerking the chain with tremendous strength. Adlet judged he would not be able to stand his ground and quickly hopped forward. When Tgurneu raised its arm, the boy was flung into the air like a fish on a line. 
“Watch out!” Fremy yelled. The fiend struck back at its airborne opponent, and Adlet just barely managed to block the attack with an iron plate in the heel of his boot. Agony shot through his ankle with a quiet, nasty sound. But he didn’t let go. 
Though the chain was firmly attached, it didn’t hinder the fiend much. Still, Tgurneu was ever so slightly slower. Mora and Fremy took advantage of this sliver of an opportunity with their fists and bullets. Distracted by the tug-of-war with Adlet, Tgurneu was slow to dodge. Mora’s fist skimmed its face, and Fremy’s bullet pierced its shoulder. 
“Don’t let go, Adlet!” Fremy shouted as she loaded another bullet. 
“I’ll focus on keeping Tgurneu down! You guys finish it off!” 
“Good, Adlet! Keep ahold of it!” called Mora as she blocked Tgurneu’s fist with her iron gauntlets. She was about to strike back when a shrill, inhuman cry rang across the battlefield. 
“Shutyourfaceyoumaggotyfilthyou’relowerthanarottenfiend’spileofcrapandyou’renotgoinganywhere!” 
As Adlet pulled on the chain, he scanned the area. Is this a new enemy? he wondered, readying himself. He saw Fremy reflexively point her gun in the direction of the voice. Even Tgurneu’s eyes opened wide. 
“I’llripoutyourorgansyoustinkingfiendI’lltearyoutopiecesshowmeyourguts!” The vicious and bloodthirsty string of abuse, delivered in one breath at unbelievable speed, was coming from Rolonia, who had been watching the fight from a distance. Taking up the whip at her waist, she lifted it high and swung it with both hands, undulating the thirty-meter-long iron rope, as if it was alive. The tip was hardly visible to the naked eye. 
Tgurneu leaned over to avoid the whip, but the tip barely scraped its chest. Immediately, copious amounts of blood, the same red as a human’s, gushed from the wound. “Ngh! ” it grunted, exhibiting its first indication of pain. 
Adlet knew about Rolonia’s power. The core of the whip had been soaked in the Saint’s own blood, which she manipulated within the whip to move it abnormally. Furthermore, it could draw blood from enemies’ bodies upon contact. “That’s pretty intense,” Adlet murmured. Rolonia had grown—and in a manner far different from what Adlet had expected. 
“Yourbloodisn’tenoughformeIwantyourgutsI’llsliceyouupshowmeyourguts!” Rolonia kept thrashing the whip, an expression on her face that would inspire him to make a quick escape if she were not his ally. 
Adlet focused everything on restraining Tgurneu. The fiend was far stronger than him—the boy couldn’t compare. But still, by timing things perfectly, he kept the fiend in place. When his captive pulled on the chain, Adlet would stop, and when it relaxed, he would pull instead. This method of chain restraint was one of the techniques he’d learned through Atreau’s instruction. 
Tgurneu tried to remove the metal spike digging into its left arm, but Fremy stopped it with a shot from her gun. While it was distracted, Mora slammed it backward with a string of blows. 
“Ngh! ” Rolonia’s whip skimmed Adlet’s ear. But he couldn’t let go of the chain. Even as Tgurneu swung him around and flung him to the ground, he continued to grapple with the chain, praying that Rolonia still retained enough of her senses to avoid friendly fire. Blood spurted from the creature’s body, dying the earth red. But then, right when Adlet thought, Maybe we can kill it now , a single gunshot rang out through the battlefield, and Rolonia’s whip stopped. 
“!” Fremy had just shot at Rolonia. The bullet hadn’t connected—it had merely skimmed right in front of the girl’s nose. 
“What are you doing, Fremy?!” Adlet yelled without thinking. 
Fremy reloaded. “You were in danger.” 
Rolonia clenched her whip in both hands, glaring at Fremy. For a second, Adlet thought a fight might break out among their allies, but Rolonia immediately turned her bloodthirsty gaze upon Tgurneu. 
“My, my, a falling-out? How unsettling. What on earth is going on here?” the fiend said innocently, taking the opportunity to attempt to remove the restraints before Fremy shot a bullet through its right arm. 
“Don’t let your guard down, Adlet. Anyone could be the enemy,” she said, readying her gun. Adlet understood that although the barrel was aimed at Tgurneu, she also had an eye on Rolonia and Mora. 
“I’m the strongest man in the world, so you don’t have to protect me. Concentrate on Tgurneu.” 
“He’s right, Fremy. Refrain from doing anything thoughtless,” advised Mora. But she, too, could tell that the gunman was on guard. 
Adlet ground his teeth. Fremy’s paranoia about her own allies was dragging the whole group down, but if they weren’t careful, the seventh might do something. They still didn’t know who their enemy was. Once more, Adlet felt keenly just how precarious their situation was. 
For a brief while, the battle was paused, having turned into a staring contest as they all tried to probe out one another’s weaknesses. Adlet held Tgurneu down from the front, while Mora and Rolonia waited on the left and right. Fremy observed from behind. 
“I’llkillyouI’llkillyouI’llkillyouI’llkillyouI’llkillyou!” Rolonia slowly pressed closer to her target. 
Suddenly, Tgurneu said, “You got me. I made a mess of this one. I shouldn’t have tried to catch you by surprise.” None of them displayed any reaction. “I thought you’d all be surprised when I popped up out of the ground, but I didn’t consider that you would then gang up on me.” The fiend laughed. “So? Was that joke funny?” 
“It was terrible,” said Mora. 
“I see. So it was a poor attempt. Human jokes are so difficult.” Tgurneu put a hand to its chin, and immediately, Rolonia swung her whip with a shriek, while Fremy’s bullet pierced the creature’s back. The three Saints attacked all at once, and Adlet clung to the chain to keep Tgurneu in place, with no thought to his own life. The battle seemed to be in their favor, but their enemy still looked unconcerned. 
Adlet turned his eyes to the area northwest of the hill. Chamo’s slave-fiends had taken up position, meeting the fiends’ assault. One approached from the air, but Hans flung a sword to bring it down. Goldof had rocketed straight into the center of a crowd of enemies, slicing up every one that attacked him. There was no sign that their defenses would be broken. 
Tgurneu dodged Rolonia’s whip and said, “That won’t do, Rolonia. Vulgar words degrade the nobility of the heart.” Tugging on the chain, the fiend addressed Adlet next. “This restraint is quite well made. Since you went to so much trouble to put it on me, will you give it to me?” 
Large volumes of blood flowed from the gashes covering Tgurneu’s body. But its blithe remarks did not stop. Adlet just couldn’t understand—what was this monster’s goal? At this rate, it was looking like Tgurneu had simply come their way to be killed. 
Then Fremy approached Adlet from behind and said quietly, “If the fight continues like this, we can’t win.” Eyes still fixed on Tgurneu, the red-haired boy did not reply. “We need to hit Tgurneu with at least five times this much firepower if we want to kill it.” 
Adlet was shocked. He had thought they were at an advantage, but in fact, the odds in their favor were no better than fifty-fifty. 
“If we can keep up the fight like this, we might be able to win,” she continued. “But the seventh will strike before that happens. They’ll take you by surprise and kill you, or they might attack you while pretending it was an accident.” Fremy looked to the northwest. “Or they might go for Chamo or Hans.” Mora and Rolonia were gradually nearing Tgurneu, but the fiend’s smile did not falter as it prepared itself for their attacks. 
“That’s no problem. We’re sticking to this fight,” said Adlet. 
“…” 
“Relax. I’ve figured out a way to win.” Adlet had a secret plan—hidden not only from Tgurneu, but also from Fremy, Mora, and Rolonia. He had a deadly weapon hidden within his left pauldron, the final tool that his master had passed down to him six months earlier. Atreau himself had called this weapon, which could kill a fiend in a single strike, his finest masterpiece. 
Adlet’s dedication to restraining Tgurneu was merely the first stage of that plan. He would divert Tgurneu’s attention to the others, and then when the opportunity arose, he would unleash his deadly attack. He planned to seize the moment when Tgurneu began to slow down, when its focus was elsewhere. He desperately waited for that opportunity. 
Mora and Rolonia inched closer and closer. Still gripping the chain, Adlet looked for the chance to strike—but then Tgurneu remarked, “Let me tell you something.” Startled, all three attackers froze instinctively. “I know what you’re thinking, Adlet. Fighting you on my own like this has to be some kind of trap. But it’s not. I came here to defeat you all head-on.” 
“Don’t listen to what it says,” warned Fremy. 
“It’s time for me to get serious,” said Tgurneu. “I suppose I’ll use my trump card now.” 
What is Tgurneu trying to do? wondered Adlet. If the fiend really did intend to use its trump card, there would be no need to announce the fact verbally. Was there some purpose in that, or was Tgurneu just that unconcerned? 
A strange change occurred in the fiend’s chest. The flesh wriggled like a pulsing vein, forming something that looked like a large, amphibian mouth. Tgurneu plunged its right hand into the new orifice. 
Adlet’s party reacted immediately. Rolonia swept her whip in a sideways arc as Fremy shot the mouth in Tgurneu’s chest. But even with the chain still attached to its left arm, it dodged the attacks as if dancing. “Behold, my trump card!” The creature pulled its free hand from the opening. In it was a large fig. Tgurneu took a bite and said, “Whoops, wrong one.” 
Fremy shot Tgurneu in the head. Still holding the fig, her target’s whole upper body snapped backward. Mora swooped down from the left, swinging her fists into the fiend’s flank. Rolonia whipped its shoulder, and blood spurted from the wound. 
Tgurneu smiled as it fought back. “Wait, hold on there. Let me use my trump card.” 
As Adlet kept trying to hold Tgurneu still with the chain, an uncanny foreboding came over him. They couldn’t allow the fiend to gain a sure advantage. If they didn’t kill it before then, things would get bad. Adlet tried to find the right moment to unleash the secret tool hidden in his left pauldron. 
“!” 
But his own nervousness had distracted him. Tgurneu feigned relaxing its arm, then yanked as hard as possible. When the boy staggered, Tgurneu bit off the chain with far more strength than it had shown thus far. So, their enemy hadn’t been playing seriously before. 
“Damn it!” 
Tgurneu vaulted over the four surrounding him and ran off toward its reinforcements to the northwest. It possessed frightening speed—as fast as Hans, or faster. Adlet threw a knife in an attempt to stop it, but Tgurneu didn’t slow for even a moment. 
“All right, now I can use this,” said Tgurneu, and Adlet saw it shove a hand into its chest again. It withdrew a handful of grape-sized bombs and, still running, hurled them high into the sky. 
On the edge of the hill, Hans, Goldof, and Chamo kept the reinforcements in check. There weren’t that many—about three hundred, not even one-thirtieth of the fiend army. The fight was evenly matched. About seventy slave-fiends held back the enemy mass like it was nothing. However, if Tgurneu joined the fray, the balance would instantly collapse. 
“Hans! Goldof! Go for Tgurneu!” yelled Adlet. 
Then the bombs exploded over their heads. Sparkling silver powder mixed with the smoke and rained down upon the slave-fiends. Immediately, they heard a sizzling sound, and white smoke began to rise from the bodies of Chamo’s servants. 
“Huh?” Chamo muttered. Her slave-fiends screamed and fell to the ground, writhing. 
“What the meow is this stuff? Hot, hot!” Hans covered his eyes. 
The silver powder covered the fiends, the slave-fiends and Hans, but only the enemy seemed unharmed. 
“What the heck?! Guys! What happened?! Pull yourselves together!” cried Chamo. She completely lost it, clinging to a nearby slave-fiend. The enemy army descended upon her in unison, and Tgurneu was about to join them. 

“Hans! Goldof! Protect Chamo!” yelled Adlet. The two immediately rushed to her side to intercept the fiends about to attack her. A bullet pierced Tgurneu’s leg from behind, halting its charge. Once they caught up, Mora and Rolonia attacked Tgurneu to protect Chamo. 
All at once, the battle turned into a chaotic melee. Now that Chamo’s slave-fiends could no longer fight, the assault began from all sides. Adlet and his allies frantically dodged the attacks while also defending against Tgurneu. Only Chamo stood frozen as she watched her slave-fiends writhe in agony. 
“Chamo! Snap out of it!” Adlet yelled as he protected the girl from the advancing creatures. 
But Chamo couldn’t hear him, senseless to everything going on around her. She clung to a giant slug slave-fiend, trying to wipe off the silver powder stuck to its body. “What the heck is this?! It’s hot! Really hot!” Smoke rose from Chamo’s hands as she brushed off the monster’s body. 
Instantly, Adlet understood. That silver powder was emitting heat. Atreau had taught him about a certain kind of metal that radiated an intense heat when it came in contact with water. The powder from Tgurneu’s bombs was most likely that metal. Chamo’s slave-fiends were all aquatic, and heat was fatal to them. The fiend commander’s secret weapon could render their party’s most powerful fighter useless. 
Adlet scanned the area. Rolonia was under intense fire, surrounded by Tgurneu and its horde, while Mora and Fremy somehow managed to protect her. 
“Chamo! Make your slave-fiends fight! At this rate, we’ll all die!” he yelled. 
“No! They’re all hurt! If they don’t get treated now, they’ll die!” Bawling like a child, she opened her mouth wide and yelled, “Nnngh! Guys! Come back! Come back!” 
All the swamp creatures, still covered in silver powder, disappeared into Chamo’s mouth one after another. When she sucked them down, she moaned in pain, and then vomited up boiling white mucus. Inside the mire in her stomach, she was washing away the metal. “Come back, guys! At this rate, you’ll all get torn to pieces!” One by one, the slave-fiends disappeared from the battlefield. 
Without thinking, Adlet yelled, “Chamo! Don’t call them back!” 
“Shut up!” Chamo sucked up a few more and then vomited up another round of mucus. 
“Think about our situation! They’re going to kill us!” 
“Shut up shut up shut up! I don’t care!” Chamo stomped and yelled, and the attacking battalion flooded toward her. Adlet did all he could to hold them back. “Chamo’s pets are wounded!” she cried. “All those cute little guys, they’re crying, ‘It hurts, it hurts!’ Who cares about you?! They’re in pain!” As the last of the slave-fiends vanished from the battlefield, three hundred fiends stormed at the Braves of the Six Flowers. 
The party had completely lost control. It took everything they had just to hold their ground against the surrounding fiends. Tgurneu stopped fighting and withdrew from the crowd to observe the battle. “You made quiet the blunder, Adlet,” it said. “You should have run. You should have known that you weren’t ready to fight.” 
“Damn it!” Adlet cut down a fiend that was charging him and then pointed his sword and Tgurneu. 
“Don’t, Adlet! You’ll die!” Fremy yelled. With her hands full fighting fiends, she couldn’t back him up. 
“Stop! You cannot hope to match such a foe!” Mora shouted. But Adlet did not lower his sword. 
Tgurneu smiled. “You shouldn’t be so reckless. I recommend you flee.” 
“GAAAAAHH!” Adlet howled and sprinted for Tgurneu. To any onlooker, it would surely look like he had lost it and was charging in headlong. No matter how Adlet might struggle, he could not hope to stand up to one of the three commanders. However, Atreau’s former trainee had a plan. His seemingly reckless charge was an act to make the fiend drop its guard. Tgurneu would be sure to get careless. The greater its advantage, the less attention it would pay to what was going on—and if it thought that its opponent had lost his head, then all the more so. 
“I’m disappointed,” said Tgurneu as it reached out to strike with a knifehand. It easily blocked Adlet’s charge, sending him rolling to the ground. The boy bounded right back to his feet and lunged again. 
“Meow! What the hell’re ya doin’?!” Hans darted over in an attempt to protect him. 
Adlet shot him a look. Their eyes met for just an instant. Hans should be able to figure it out—Adlet was distracting Tgurneu, acting as bait. Hans would understand and do what Adlet needed him to do. 
Tgurneu thrust Adlet backward and sent him sprawling to the ground. Three fiends closed in from behind, while two more fiends on his left and right blocked off his escape. Adlet stood in place, ignoring the fiends that surrounded him, and pointed his sword at Tgurneu. 
“Watch meowt!” Hans yelled, vaulting into the circle of fiends. Anyone would think that Adlet had lost his head and that his companion was trying to save him. But Adlet caught him mid-leap, and Hans used the Brave’s shoulders as a springboard to rocket toward Tgurneu. 
“!” 
The fiend was taken by surprise. It took a defensive stance in an attempt to block Hans’s sword—but Hans wasn’t trying to attack. 
“Ya fell for it, meow .” He’d actually aimed for the cuff digging into Tgurneu’s left arm and the torn end of the chain that hung off it. Midair, Hans sheathed his sword, grabbed the chain, and yanked it with all his might, restraining Tgurneu’s left arm. At the same time, Adlet threw a smoke bomb at his feet. The fiends around him all froze, and in moments Adlet escaped from the circle. 
Tgurneu tried to pry off Hans with its free hand, but Mora dashed in and restrained it to protect Hans. Now that both of Tgurneu’s arms were pinned down, Adlet ran straight at the fiend, pulling out the secret tool hidden within his left pauldron—a spike about twenty centimeters long. It looked like just a big nail, nothing irregular about it. But fitted onto the tip of that spike was the blood of a certain Saint. 
It was common knowledge that Saints’ blood was poison to fiends, but up until this point, none save the Saint of Spilled Blood had made use of their blood as a weapon. To kill a high-order fiend like Tgurneu, she would have to pour about a whole cup of blood. But Atreau had successfully extracted the poisonous element of Saints’ blood and concentrated it. That toxin coated the crystal tip of this spike, and if Adlet impaled a fiend with this, the poison would instantly spread through its entire body. It would be absolutely impossible to counteract or eject from the body. Atreau had named this weapon the Saint’s Spike—his finest masterpiece. 
“!” Tgurneu sensed the impending danger and tried to intercept Adlet with a kick. He ducked to avoid it and, as he did, took one step forward. Clenching the Saint’s Spike in his hands, he came within striking distance of the fiend. 
Eight years ago, this monster had stolen Adlet’s home. It had killed his sister, stolen his friend away, and robbed him of his life of peace. He would kill it. For that sake alone, Adlet had become a warrior. For eight years, he’d yearned for this moment. 
Adlet plunged the Saint’s Spike deep into Tgurneu’s stomach. 
“You did it!” cried Mora. 
“Just what we were goin’ for, Adlet!” Hans cheered, jumping away from Tgurneu along with the Temple Elder. 
With an audible throb of pain, Tgurneu’s body violently convulsed, evidence that the poison had begun its circulation. 
The initial symptoms of this toxin were madness and intense pain all over the body. Next, the fiend would completely lose its sense of balance. After that came visual and auditory hallucinations, and then its memory would start to become impaired. Finally, it would be in agony for five to ten days, with inevitable death waiting in the end. 
Adlet stood there, just gazing at Tgurneu as it shuddered. He felt incredibly calm and quiet. Oh. That’s anticlimactic , he thought. But the moment he did, something happened. 
“Duck!” Mora yelled, and that moment, a violent impact hit Adlet in the face. He didn’t even have the time to think, What was that? He was instantly knocked out. 
“Hey, Adlet, are you actually taking this seriously?” The last thing the boy saw as his vision grew dark was his mortal foe, the Saint’s Spike still in its stomach, calmly swinging a fist. 
Mora had thought they had finished the battle—that when Adlet had stabbed that nail-like object into Tgurneu’s stomach, victory would be theirs. As Tgurneu had spasmed wildly, Adlet had stopped, watching it with pity, like he was sure they had won. But then Tgurneu had swung a punch like nothing had happened, throwing him backward. 
“Duck!” she had yelled, but it was far too late. The Brave’s body flew through the air, rolled about twenty meters, and then stopped moving. 
“Adlet!” Fremy screamed. 
“Huh? Addy?” Rolonia had been spewing profanities and scattering fiends, but now her eyes widened. In an instant, as if she had been replaced by another person, she was back to her old, timid self. 
Fiends surged toward the fallen Adlet to finish him off. Mora bounded over to him and slung him over her shoulder. She touched his neck—it wasn’t broken. He was breathing. 
“Oh my, he’s still alive?” The lizard-like creature approached leisurely, the spike still protruding from its stomach. The fiends massed around Tgurneu, protecting their leader. 
This battle was now a lost cause. Chamo could no longer fight, and they had lost Adlet, too. Far from actually killing Tgurneu, the whole party could very well be annihilated. Still holding her companion, Mora thought, I must use my secret weapon. 
“You still intend to fight, Mora? Well, that’s no surprise.” 
Mora glared at the fiend and steeled herself. She could not back down now. She could not let this chance to kill Tgurneu slip through her fingers. There was a reason she had to do this. 
But the moment she was ready, a shadow blocked her path. Hans grabbed Adlet’s unconscious body away from her. “We have to run, Mora. Don’t use it yet.” There was no way that Hans could have known about her last resort. He had merely read her expression and understood that she was about to do something. Mora’s secret weapon was to blow herself up and take Tgurneu with her. 
“You hold back Tgurneu, Mora! Goldof, you carry all our packs! The rest of ya—run!” Hans yelled, and he wove through the stampede of fiends. He found Chamo where she lay curled up, spewing mucus, picked her up, and carried her and Adlet away at blinding speed. 
“Let me go, you dummy! Dumb, dumb dummy! Chamo can still fight!” Chamo pummeled Hans’s back, but he ignored her. 
“You think I’ll let you go?” Tgurneu tried to follow, but Mora realized what it was trying to do and punched the fiend from the side. Hans’s words had brought her to her senses. This would not necessarily be her only chance to kill Tgurneu. For now, it would best to escape and regroup. 
“I’ll cover you, Mora.” Fremy threw a bomb, scattering the troops protecting their leader. 
“Run…run? How should I…?” Rolonia defended herself from the fiends as she nervously looked around the area. 
“Rolonia! You go, too! Follow Hans!” Mora yelled at her, and the newest member of the group finally came to her senses and ran off after Hans. The hill was completely surrounded. Rolonia snapped her whip while Hans fought back with kicks, but they couldn’t secure a way out. 
“All of you, get down!” Fremy chucked her bombs indiscriminately, every which way. A number of fiends were blown to pieces, and the blast caught Hans and Rolonia, too. But still, she opened up the slimmest of escape routes. “Mora! You run, too!” She fired a bullet into Tgurneu, and Mora took the opportunity to turn her back to the enemy and escape. 
“Head to the mountain! Flee to the Bud of Eternity!” cried Mora. The whole group broke out of the encirclement and ran down the hill to Goldof, who was carrying their packs. With the group reunited, they headed for the mountain rising in the distance. 
“We’re the rearguard, Fremy,” declared Mora as they fled. Tgurneu was chasing after them with incredible speed. It would be Mora and Fremy’s job to hold the fiend in check. 
“Don’t worry. I’m good at fighting in retreat,” said Fremy, clenching her gun. 
The party continued their retreat, traveling away from the hill and passing through the ravine. Their goal was not the east, where the continent lay. They were headed west, deeper into the Howling Vilelands. Their retreat turned into a battle even fiercer than regular combat. The one with the toughest role of all was Mora, who was at the group’s tail, having to run while simultaneously defending the group from Tgurneu’s attacks. 
“Ungh! ” Mora grunted. Tgurneu caught up to them again, and Mora dodged to the side to avoid its fist. The next blow she blocked with her gauntlets. 
Fremy joined the fray to help her, firing at Tgurneu from behind Mora, the bullet skimming past the other woman’s face. When Tgurneu leaned away to avoid it, Mora flung the fiend back with a kick to the stomach and ran. Fremy hurled a bomb at their pursuer to slow it down. Her claim that she was a skilled fighter while retreating had been no bluff, and her precise support fire enabled Mora to manage their escape, albeit narrowly. 
The vanguard didn’t have it easy, either. Though Hans, Goldof, and Rolonia encountered repeated ambushes and fiends that had circled ahead, it was the Saint among them who somehow succeeded in defending the group. 
Once they emerged from the ravine, a smallish mountain came into view. The three in the lead were already running up the slope to the Bud of Eternity. If they could reach it, they would be safe for the time being. Their pursuers were slowly declining in number. The commander was still hot on their heels, but one by one they were shaking off the rest of the fiends. 
“Watch out!” cried Fremy. 
That was when it happened—Tgurneu sprung forward to grapple with Mora. She grabbed Tgurneu’s wrists, restraining the fiend with both hands, and the two of them struggled against each other. Tgurneu was far stronger—even borrowing the power of the Spirit of Mountains, it was all Mora could do to hold on for a few seconds. 
“Mora!” Fremy came to her aid with a bomb to Tgurneu’s back. The blast caused Tgurneu to stagger, and during that brief window, Mora sent the fiend flying with a punch and escaped from its grasp. Tgurneu got to its feet and, for just a moment, grimaced. Rather than standing firmly, it swayed a little. Upon closer inspection, it was wounded after so many hits from Mora, Fremy, and Rolonia. Adlet’s spike weapon was still impaled in its stomach—though it didn’t seem like that had any effect. 
“I think now’s a good time to quit, Tgurneu,” said Fremy, pointing her gun at the creature. The Bud of Eternity was likely only minutes away. The other fiends had pulled back, and most of their pursuers were gone. 
Tgurneu smiled faintly and withdrew one big step. “It looks like you’ve grown a lot since you left six months ago. I’m glad.” She didn’t reply. “It’s so lonesome, Fremy. There’s so much we have to talk about now. Hey, why don’t you come back? We betrayed you, but that couldn’t be helped, and even now, I still—” 
Fremy cut Tgurneu off with a bullet to its face. The fiend caught it in its teeth, spat it out, and shrugged. “Get lost,” she sneered. 
“I understand how you feel, Fremy. You’re scared your heart might waver. You think that if this conversation continues, you’ll allow me to convince you. Adorable as ever.” 
Fremy’s jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. Mora watched her silently. The Saint of Gunpowder’s position was complicated, and her feelings for Tgurneu had to be complicated, too. 
As Mora watched the two glare at each other, she remembered what had happened about an hour ago—when, before Tgurneu had taken them by surprise, she had encountered that strange fiend in the Ravine of Spitten Blood. The message written on its back, that she had no time, had most certainly been from Tgurneu. 
“…” 
Mora wanted to ask what having no time meant. But she couldn’t discuss that with Fremy present. She couldn’t allow her allies to know about the secret agreement she had made with Tgurneu three years prior. She couldn’t let them even suspect her of it. 
“Let’s go now, Mora. I’m worried about Adlet,” said Fremy, and she slowly backed away. It seemed Tgurneu did not intend to give chase. It stood there idly, giving no sign it would move. 
“Should you really be ending the battle now?” taunted Tgurneu. Fremy ignored it, but Mora froze. “This might be your last opportunity to defeat me—it might be your only chance. You have no time.” 
“What do you mean?” Mora asked, without thinking. 
“You have two days left. If you fail to defeat me before that time is up, things will be bad for you. Very bad for you.” 
“Two more days?” 
Fremy tugged Mora’s shoulder. “Don’t listen. It’s a bluff. If there really were something happening in two days, Tgurneu wouldn’t just warn you.” 
“But…” Mora hesitated, while Fremy urged her to go. 
Watching the two, it waved and smiled. “As Fremy advises, I’ll leave you for today. Good-bye, Braves of the Six Flowers. We’ll see one another again.” The fiend turned around and left. Mora couldn’t follow—Tgurneu was too fast. 
There was no sign of any enemies—apparently the fight really was over now. Breathing hard, Mora gazed after Tgurneu. “What a buffoon. That is a commander of the fiends?” 
“Tgurneu has always been like that. It’s so bad, it makes me want to gag,” said Fremy, but this time, her gun was fixed on her comrade. 
Mora wasn’t really shocked. She didn’t think Fremy was the seventh—if she were, then she would have attacked while Tgurneu was present. “What are you doing, Fremy?” 
“I want to ask you one thing, Mora.” The look in Fremy’s eyes was not murderous, but rather suspicious. Fremy suspected Mora as the seventh. “Did something happen with you and Tgurneu?” 
“What makes you think that?” 
“When Tgurneu said, You have no time , you were acting odd.” 
Mora’s heart hammered, though she desperately tried to stay calm. She feigned confusion, as if the suspicions Fremy had just voiced were utterly groundless. “‘Acting odd’? If a gun were pointed at me every time I acted odd, I would be dead many times over.” 
“Don’t dodge the question. Give me a straight answer.” 
“Nothing happened. Does that satisfy you?” Mora approached Fremy, grabbed the muzzle of her weapon, and forced it down. “Fremy, you are free to attempt to deduce who the seventh may be. But don’t act so eager to kill.” 
Fremy didn’t reply, her eyes locked with Mora’s. 
“You would only attract suspicion to yourself instead. You’d be accused of using a search for the seventh as a pretense to create the opportunity to kill one of us. If I said to the others, The seventh is Fremy—she accused me of being the seventh and tried to kill me! what would you do then?” 
“Fine.” Fremy holstered her gun and headed off to the Bud of Eternity. 
Mora followed after her. Somehow, she’d managed to change the topic. I wonder if I fooled her , she thought. Mora had never been good at lying, and she rarely hid things. Honesty had been her principle throughout life. She had always believed that living an honest life, with no duplicity, was the true path to happiness. 
“I think Tgurneu was bluffing,” said Fremy, “but it bothers me that it brought up a specific date. What did it mean by two days left ?” 
“I don’t know.” Mora didn’t think Tgurneu had been bluffing. In fact, she was certain its threat had been genuine—because Tgurneu could never lie to Mora. 
Mora recalled what had happened three years prior and the secret, unforgivable agreement she had made with the fiend general. 
Inside the old, empty fortress, Mora and Tgurneu glared at each other. Tgurneu rested on a mountain of rubble, while Marmanna sat beside Mora, watching her anxiously. 
Mora hesitated. She had to save Shenira’s life, whatever it took. Shenira was her purpose—her everything. But she would not kill the Braves of the Six Flowers. That would be a betrayal of every human alive. How can I save my daughter? she agonized. 
Then Tgurneu made her an offer. “I’ll compromise. You may kill one—just one of the six. Would you be able to accept that?” Mora didn’t reply. “Oh, dear. You won’t even take that? Such a cruel mother,” said Tgurneu. 
Mora trembled with rage. “Even if I fulfilled that promise, it’s doubtful you would actually release my daughter.” 
“I see.” 
“I’m sure you would think nothing of breaking an oath to a human. With no guarantee you will be true to your word, no negotiations can be made,” said Mora. 
Tgurneu grinned. “You’re quite right.” 
“What did you say?” 
“You’re right. I have no problem with lying in order to win. I can’t recall ever keeping a promise to a human.” 
Did that mean that Tgurneu had had no intentions of freeing her daughter? 
“But this situation right now is different,” the fiend continued. “I need you to trust that I’ll keep my promise. Kidnapping is a crime of trust. You can’t do it without good faith between the aggressor and the victim.” 
“Good faith, hmm?” 
Tgurneu glanced at Marmanna, who sat beside Mora. “It’s a good thing you brought the Saint of Words. In the event that we come to an agreement, why don’t I make an oath to her? I can swear that if I break my promise to you, I will offer my life in exchange.” 
Mora’s heart wavered. After a few moments of thought, she replied, “Impossible.” 
“Why?” 
“Fiends see nothing of throwing their lives away for the sake of victory. Your life alone would guarantee nothing.” 
“I see. So that’s how you’re going to be.” Tgurneu closed its eyes and considered for a while. “What you point out is entirely true. But I’m no common fiend. Among the countless fiends, I am of the elite, the cornerstone, a general in charge of forty percent of the whole army. If I were to die, the chain of command would collapse. It would be a massive blow from which they would never recover. They need me to defeat the Braves of the Six Flowers.” 
“A commander of fiends, hmm?” Mora could trust that. Just sitting face-to-face with this being, she could tell that it possessed fearsome power. She also sensed what it had said about commanding forty percent of the army might just be true. 
“This is the life I’m offering to you as a guarantee. I believe this proposal should inspire trust.” 
“Marmanna, tell me if it speaks truth or lies,” Mora directed her. 
Using the power of the Spirit of Words, Marmanna manifested a tiny sphere of light that jumped into Tgurneu’s mouth. “Repeat what you said just now,” she said. 
“I am a leader among fiends. I command forty percent of all the army. If I die, the chain of command will collapse, and that blow would be catastrophic for them. The fiends would most likely be unable to beat the Braves of the Six Flowers without me.” If it were lying, the orb would be ejected from its mouth and return to Marmanna. The light remained in place. 
“Tgurneu is telling the truth,” said Marmanna. But even so, Mora couldn’t believe the fiend. 
“You still can’t trust me? Then let’s do this: I’ll swear to the Saint of Words that I’ll never lie to you. If I lie, then may this core be shattered. By the way, I promise that I’d release your daughter, too,” said Tgurneu, indicating the place its heart would be if it were human. 
The core of a fiend was like its brain. Though fiends boasted powerful vitality, they would always die if their core was broken. Every fiend had a core—a glossy, metallic sphere. The larger ones would be about five centimeters in diameter, and on the smaller side, they could be smaller than the tip of a pinky finger. 
“I’ll even show you.” Tgurneu put a hand to its chest. The flesh cracked open, revealing its organs. Thanks to the fiend’s construction, whatever it was, not a single drop of blood dripped out. And right there, in the place Tgurneu indicated, was its core. “Now then, will you trust me?” 
“…Swear to the Saint of Words. Then I will trust you.” 
Marmanna nodded and borrowed the power of the Spirit of Words. The little sphere appeared and disappeared into Tgurneu’s body. 
“This I swear: I will not lie to Mora. If I do, then may the core in my chest shatter to pieces, while at the same time, I kill the parasite in Shenira’s chest.” Tgurneu’s body sparkled. The covenant was made. “Is that enough for you? Good grief. Now we can finally start negotiating,” said the fiend, shrugging. “Now then, I’ll make my demand once more. I want you to kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.” 
“I will not accept that demand. I offer my life instead. You should be satisfied with that,” Mora said resolutely. 
But Tgurneu shook its head. “I refuse. If you die, someone else would simply be chosen as a Brave.” 
“I’ll offer you the life of one Saint who will eventually be chosen as a Brave, in addition to my own: Athlay, Willone, or Nashetania. How about that?” 
“What?!” Marmanna, who had been listening beside them, shrieked. “What are you thinking?! Do you intend to become a murderer?!” 
“Did I not make that clear?” said Mora. “Yes, I do.” 
“You’re not in your right mind.” 
You’re absolutely correct , thought Mora. A mother whose daughter had been taken hostage could never be in her right mind. 
“That won’t work. The only life I want is that of a Brave of the Six Flowers. No matter how many candidates you kill, I won’t release your daughter. My demand is for you to kill a Brave. That is all.” Tgurneu rejected her offer. 
Left with no choice, Mora made another concession. “I will be chosen as a Brave. When I receive the crest, I’ll kill myself then. How about that?” 
“No.” 
“What?!” 
“If you aren’t chosen, then taking a hostage as I have done will have entirely been a waste. And besides, do you think the Spirit of Fate would anoint someone who intends suicide as one of the Braves? My demand won’t change. Kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. That is all.” For a long while, Mora and Tgurneu glared at each other. There was no sign that Tgurneu would give in. “Do you understand that if we fail to negotiate a deal, then there’s no reason for me to let your daughter live?” 
“…” 
“Oh, well,” said Tgurneu, beginning to stand up. 
“Wait. I have one condition.” If the negotiations broke down, then Shenira would die. Mora had no choice but to meet Tgurneu’s demands. “If you die, you must release my daughter immediately, even if I haven’t killed a Brave.” 
“Sorry, but I can’t accept that condition. If I did accept it, you’d just use all your power to try to kill me.” Tgurneu shook its head. 
“Then let’s set a time limit. I’ll promise to kill a Brave of the Six Flowers before a certain deadline, but if you die before then, then that promise will be void. I will not under any circumstances withdraw this condition.” 
“I see.” Tgurneu put a hand to its slim jaw and considered for a while. “And when is this deadline?” 
“Twenty-two days after the Evil God has awakened. If you’re alive, I promise I will kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers by that date.” 
Hand still on its jaw, Tgurneu continued to ponder. “That sounds reasonable. Fine. I accept your condition.” They had finally settled on something. Now Mora had found a way she could save Shenira. “Twenty-two days after the awakening of the Evil God. You will kill one of the Braves by then. But if I die before the deadline, the contract will be null and void, and I’ll release your daughter. You’re fine with that?” 
Mora nodded. “And I’ll add one more condition. Do not touch my daughter before then.” 
“Of course. I promise. And the fiends under my command will not touch your daughter until twenty-two days have passed after the Evil God’s awakening. I will also not let any other fiends not under my command touch her.” Somehow, they had managed to reach an agreement, and Mora had settled a way to save Shenira without killing any of the Braves of the Six Flowers. All she had to do was kill Tgurneu before the twenty-second day after the Evil God’s revival. 
“I’d like to add two more conditions of my own,” said Tgurneu. “In the case that you are no longer capable of fulfilling your promise, I will take your daughter’s life. In other words, if you die before you kill a Brave. My other condition is that if you kill yourself after being chosen, I will not accept that as a fulfillment of your promise.” 
The first condition made sense to Mora, but the latter half seemed to her an odd proposal. If Tgurneu’s goal was to kill a Brave, then why would it care if Mora killed herself? Her intention had been to kill Tgurneu before the time limit defined in their agreement was up, and if she could not kill it by then, to end her own life to protect Shenira. But now that was not an option. She could attempt to stick to her guns, but if Tgurneu ended the negotiation, her daughter would die. “I accept your conditions,” said Mora. 
“Then I suppose the contract is made,” said Tgurneu. 
“Let me confirm one more thing. What will happen if we kill each other?” 
“In that case, you win. Your daughter will be freed.” 
“Then fine.” Mora prompted Marmanna. The contract could not be complete without the Saint of Words guaranteeing the contract. Marmanna’s little ball of light vanished Tgurneu’s body. 
“Tgurneu so swears: If I should die, I will force the parasite in Shenira’s chest to die with me, even in the case that Mora and I kill each other. If I break this oath, may all the fiends that serve me perish.” 
“Tgurneu,” said Marmanna, “when the compensation you’re offering is the life of someone else, you also need their consent.” 
“Oh? Then what do we do?” 
“Through the Spirit of Words, I’ll now ascertain the desires of your followers. I’ll ask them if they’re willing to give their lives on your command.” Marmanna closed her eyes and fell silent for a while. Then she opened them and said, “All your followers have declared they would die if you ordered it. The contract is valid.” Tgurneu’s body glowed. The first agreement had been made. 
“Tgurneu so swears: If Mora should kill a Brave of the Six Flowers, I will make the parasite in Shenira’s chest die. May I die if I break this oath. But if Mora commits suicide, then this contract will become null and void.” 
“Do you agree to this contract, Mora?” asked Marmanna. 
“I agree to the contract,” Mora complied, and yet another deal was made. 
“Tgurneu so swears: Until twenty-two days past the revival of the Evil God, no fiends will cause harm to Shenira. May I die if I break this oath. However, if Mora perishes before twenty-two days past the revival of the Evil God, this will become null and void.” 
“…I agree.” 
Tgurneu’s body shone. Now all contracts were concluded. The discussion was over. Mora needed to kill Tgurneu within twenty-two days of the Evil God’s revival. If she could not do so by then, she would be forced to murder one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. If she could do neither, then Shenira would die. 
“Now then, I’m going back to the Howling Vilelands. Good-bye, and may we meet again.” Tgurneu stood and walked to the door of the old bastion. Mora instantly kicked away her chair, stood, and swung a punch at the fiend. “Whoa, there.” Tgurneu caught what would normally have been a fatal blow. Before she could unleash a second strike, her target turned around and jumped out the window. Mora tried to give chase, but the fiend immediately faded into the black of night and disappeared. 
“This is totally crazy, Mora. Are you seriously going to kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers?” 
“Hardly. I’ll kill that fiend and save my daughter. That is all.” Gazing into the darkness of might, Mora thought, I suppose I could say that negotiations ended well. She had been able to secure Shenira’s safety. If she could just defeat Tgurneu, she could go without killing any of the Braves. As a bonus, she’d even managed to prevent Tgurneu from ever lying to her. But was this truly a good idea? she wondered. She had the feeling her foe had further tricks planned for her. 
As Mora climbed the mountain with Fremy, she mulled over Tgurneu’s words. She was sure it had meant she had only two more days to save Shenira. But how could that be? That day, Tgurneu had agreed that the deadline was twenty-two days after the Evil God’s revival, and it had only been thirteen. There should still be nine days. An oath sworn before the Saint of Words could not be redacted, no matter what. Even if Marmanna had been conspiring with Tgurneu, that would not change the contract. There were still nine days. That was a sure thing. 
“That fiend…” Tgurneu had sworn to Mora that it would die if it lied to her. It should be utterly incapable of attempting to deceive her. So what did it mean by only two more days? And how should she kill Tgurneu?