Chapter 4
Two Schemes
Once Tgurneu received the news that the Braves of the Six Flowers had appeared with Dozzu’s faction in the Fainting Mountains, it set off northward as quickly as possible, accompanied by the bulk of its forces. It would most likely be half a day until they reached the Fainting Mountains.
Tgurneu rode on the back of a massive slime mold–fiend, leisurely gazing at the northern sky. Specialist number two soared low over Tgurneu’s head, ready for orders.
“Ah-ha-ha! They’ve saved me some effort, going off to the Temple of Fate all on their own. Now this will get interesting.” Tgurneu giggled just like a child. The fiend was frightening and calculating, but sometimes innocent and juvenile. Tgurneu’s followers found their leader difficult to understand. “Well, you always have to be cautious. Braves or no Braves, you never know what Dozzu might get up to.”
“Still, he shouldn’t häve many öptions,” said specialist number two.
“I know that. But you can never let your guard down around Dozzu,” said Tgurneu. “I wonder how number nine is doing.”
“I’m sure just holdíng them off is all he can manage. I’m leery of expectíng too much.”
“I disagree. I think he can eliminate at least one of them, if all goes well.”
Tgurneu’s forces continued on their way.
Meanwhile, Goldof and Chamo were racing toward the northern side of the great tree. The Dead Host was thickest near Adlet’s party, so there weren’t many here to block their path. Goldof glanced back to make sure Chamo was following. Adlet had reminded him of her poor sense of direction and not to leave her alone. Chamo icily watched Goldof, silently cautioning him that she knew he could stab her in the back at a moment’s notice.
“Chamo…I won’t…betray the Braves. Even if…Her Highness orders it,” said Goldof.
“Uh-huh.” Chamo didn’t relax her guard. Not much he could do about that. It was inevitable that she’d see him as a traitor.
The two of them stopped where they’d been told to, right at the forest’s edge, and peeked through the gaps between the trees at the mass of Dead Host. By all appearances, Adlet’s party had the corpses distracted. They weren’t watching what Goldof and Chamo were doing. Goldof examined the Dead Host’s formation in search of specialist number nine, their target. But the fiend must have been hiding, perhaps cautious of gunfire from Fremy, so it couldn’t be seen at all from the outside.
Adlet’s party wasn’t attacking yet—but it should be about time.
“We don’t hafta leave this to Fremy and Auntie. Let’s just kill it right now,” said Chamo.
“…Yes…that’s my intention…too,” Goldof replied. He didn’t see the Dead Host as a real threat. If they fought now, the Braves would probably be able to win without taking much damage. The real problem was the seventh, who had yet to make a move. The other reason Goldof wanted to kill number nine quickly was to cut off some of the seventh’s options.
One other thing was making Goldof uneasy: the plan Nashetania had proposed to him. She’d told him she was going to set a trap for Rolonia, and he couldn’t yet decide whether to cooperate or not. He suspected she was trying to trick him. It wasn’t too late—shouldn’t he tell Adlet everything and put a stop to her plan?
No, I shouldn’t. Goldof reconsidered. The plan was dangerous, but they wouldn’t accomplish anything by succumbing to fear. This stratagem would be an effective aid to the Braves’ victory.
“Adlet? Rolonia? What are you doing?” asked Dozzu. Seeing that Adlet wasn’t heading out to attack, it had returned. Rolonia showed Dozzu the message written in scars on the corpse’s left arm. Dozzu’s eyes widened in shock. “What on earth is this?”
“I’ll tell you what it means, Dozzu,” explained Rolonia. “Someone among the Dead Host is alive, and they’re asking for help.”
“Frankly speaking, I find this unbelievable. There’s no way one of the Dead Host could be alive in that state, much less write anything…”
Adlet felt the same way. This particular corpse looked very clearly dead. To him, the power of the parasites appeared to be the only thing forcing them into motion.
“And I just made sure of it by tasting the blood of that last one. They were in horrible, horrible shape, but…they were just barely…alive.”
“Wait, please, Rolonia,” said Dozzu. “We can’t bring this operation to a halt now. We’ve already revealed our position to Tgurneu. If we don’t reach the Temple of Fate as soon as possible, we’ll end up surrounded, and all of us will die.”
“I-I know that. But…” Rolonia protested desperately. “Addy, I think…I really have to… I have to search for a way to save these people! Let’s find out about the Black Barrenbloom, and save the Dead Host, too!”
“That’s not possible,” objected Dozzu.
“P-please, Dozzu. I’ll do my very best. I swear I won’t cause trouble for you. I’ll show you that I can save the people of the Dead Host, too. So please, tell me how I could do it!”
Adlet stared at that message for a long time. Were they really alive? Even after being turned into living dead, even now that they were fighting him, were the people of his village still alive? Suddenly, nausea welled up inside him. Just imagining the living hell of consciousness while a parasite controlled your body as a weapon made him feel sick. Adlet had thought he’d already conquered his indecision, but it came back with a vengeance. What if there was a way to save the Dead Host? He was about to agree with Rolonia, but suddenly a flash of insight sparked in his mind. “That’s not what’s going on, Rolonia.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a trap. Tgurneu’s trying to trick us, trying to buy some time by luring us away to save the Dead Host. It wrote this here to confuse us.” Adlet didn’t have any proof, but he figured that was just the sort of thing Tgurneu was liable to do.
“M-maybe, but…maybe it really is—”
“No. Give up on trying to save them! We can’t waste our time! We’re going!”
“Addy!” Rolonia yelled at him. Adlet ran off with Dozzu close behind. Nashetania, waiting impatiently, joined them in the charge at their enemy’s defenses.
Even if the Dead Host was alive, they were beyond salvation. All the Braves could do was kill them quickly to put them out of their misery.
Why, Addy? How could you kill the Dead Host? Rolonia lamented as she followed after the others.
The corpses were standing in orderly rows, the great tree at their center. Adlet’s party charged straight for the middle of the crowd. Their goal was to attack before Chamo and Goldof and disrupt the Dead Host’s defensive formation. Of course, Adlet had also told the others that if they could just kill the ringleader then and there, so much the better. But Rolonia still had reservations. Killing it would kill all of the Dead Host, too.
Adlet brandished a bomb while Dozzu readied a lightning strike. Their target was specialist number nine, who was in the center of the enemy camp. But before the pair could attack, the corpses that were not a part of the formation charged them as a group. With so many enemies fighting them off, they couldn’t go after the one they really wanted.
“Damn it! They’re stubborn!” Adlet cursed. These corpses clearly acted differently from the others they’d fought so far. They were coordinated, attacking in groups of at least three. The earlier mooks had only been given general orders, but now specialist number nine was watching their battle and giving specific orders to the formation around it.
“Nashetania! Back us up!” Adlet yelled.
“I’m sorry! My hands are full here!” she replied.
Adlet, Nashetania, and Dozzu tried to push forward, but Rolonia was the only one at their backs, and all she was doing was blocking the attacks of the enemy wave. She was afraid she might kill them, and it was slowing her down.
The others butchered the Dead Host without batting an eye. Adlet killed them with his sword, Nashetania bisected them with her blades, and Dozzu charred them black with its lightning strikes. As she watched, Rolonia thought, How can they kill them?
After tasting that corpse’s blood earlier, she had come to understand the Dead Host’s physical state. Its heart had been beating, and its brain had been intact. It was racked with thirst and abuse, essentially forced to live by the parasite—but she had discovered that saving them was possible, if you could just remove the parasites.
But despite that, Adlet had ignored all her pleas and decided to annihilate them. Had he always been so ruthless, calmly murdering people who might still be alive, who had simply been forced to fight? Was that the kind of strength needed to win? Did a Brave of the Six Flowers need to be like that? Was she at fault for lacking the capacity?
“Rolonia! Pull it together!” Adlet yelled at her. For a while now, she had done practically nothing but run around. She was burdening everyone again. She could hardly bear it.
“What amazing command it has over them. I didn’t think it would be able to keep us away like this,” Nashetania said as she summoned blades from the ground. Specialist number nine had hardly moved from its position.
Rolonia heard Adlet murmur softly, as if in reply, “We can deal with that.” Then he yelled out, “This is getting us nowhere! We’re backing off!” He pulled a smoke bomb out from a pouch at his waist and threw it to the ground, shrouding their surroundings in smoke. The Dead Host all stopped, paralyzed. “This works well on them!” he yelled.
Rolonia was about to withdraw as Adlet had ordered, but within the smoke she could see the others doing something else. Nashetania manifested a blade that thrust up from the ground diagonally, with the flat facing the sky. Under cover of the smoke, Adlet leaped high off the blade and flung a few somethings into the center of specialist number nine’s defensive formation.
“!” The fiend emitted a particularly loud, flutelike sound, and when the projectiles landed on the ground, the Dead Host fell upon them all at once. But nothing happened. Rolonia figured it out—Adlet had just thrown rocks or something equally innocuous, and in all the smoke, specialist number nine had mistaken them for bombs.
The enemy formation was in disarray. Immediately, Adlet threw more at them—real bombs, this time—while Dozzu and Nashetania followed up by pushing to the center and hitting with their hardest attacks. Many of the Dead Host protected specialist number nine with their bodies and died instantly. Even though they were enemies, Rolonia was impressed by their flawless coordination.
She was ashamed of herself for vacantly watching the fight from the rear.
She could just barely spot specialist number nine through the gaps in the Dead Host’s defenses. It was a large bug-fiend, as big as a human. Dozens of spindly legs supported its knobbly, thin body. In the center of its abdomen was an uncanny lump that seemed to be the ovary that birthed the parasites.
The once-organized movements of the Dead Host had fallen apart, and at the exact same moment, from north in the forest, Goldof commenced his assault with a roar.
They wouldn’t have to rely on Fremy to shoot this fiend down; they’d finish it right here. Goldof charged into the ranks so fast he left Chamo’s slave-fiends behind.
Noticing his approach, a corpse swung both its arms down at him, shrieking. Goldof chose not to dodge. That would have spelled instant death for any ordinary human, but Goldof took the hit with his helmet, bracing with the powerful muscles of his neck.
“Auuugh!” He slammed shoulder-first into the corpse’s stomach, hurling it back into the one behind it and creating an opening that allowed him to advance. One after another, the corpses surrounded him, and he just let their strikes land on his armor as he determinedly flattened the enemies before him.
Then Chamo’s slave-fiends flooded into the Dead Host’s formation, and the once-flawless defensive structure collapsed all at once. Goldof’s eyes were locked on the gnarled figure of specialist number nine.
“…!” Instantly, specialist number nine became agitated and emitted a sound. The Dead Host drew back, surrounding and covering their master. They turned away from Goldof and began fleeing southward.
“Get it, Goldof!” Chamo yelled from behind.
Goldof didn’t need to be told—he already planned to. But five of the Dead Host spread their arms to block his path. He tried to break through by stabbing the one in the center, but despite being impaled from chest to spine, the corpse clung to his spear while the others latched onto Goldof’s body and refused to let go. “Ngh!” Goldof strained and tried to yank his spear back, but even he was at a disadvantage five-on-one. Now Goldof was the one being lifted up and swung around.
“What’re you doing?” asked Chamo. Her water snake slave-fiend came in from behind to crunch the heads of the corpses grappling for Goldof’s spear. One of them refused to let go, even in death, but he successfully shook it off.
Meanwhile, specialist number nine and its guard of Dead Host had escaped far away. Adlet and Nashetania chased after the fleeing fiend in an attempt to finish it off, but the guards blocked them, too, and their attacks fell short.
“Chase it!” Adlet yelled, and he dashed off. Nashetania and Dozzu followed, while Rolonia brought up the rear.
From far away, Rainer could hear the clashes, explosions, and thunder. He figured the Braves of the Six Flowers had engaged specialist number nine. That swordsman with the unkempt hair had been acting as a diversion, while their real goal was in the other direction.
Rainer’s body was steered toward the center of the forest where the great tree was. This is good , he thought. If he had continued pursuing the swordsman, he probably would have been killed before he could do anything, or been abandoned with no chance to meet any of the Braves. If he could encounter them, they might notice the writing on his right arm.
That was when Rainer felt a weakness in his left arm—the signal that he’d be able to move it again. Before, he’d never been able to move his arm twice in one day. His guess had been right: Those periods when his arm was free came when something happened to the controller of the Dead Host.
This could work… This could work! Rainer was exhilarated. If he waved at the Braves of the Six Flowers and pointed to his right arm, one of them had to notice him—at the very least, they wouldn’t kill him right off the bat.
Rainer and his fellows were driven into the center of the forest. Running with them, Rainer could hear the shrieks of the Dead Host from the front lines. It’s the Six Braves! he thought, but an instant later he was greeted by an astonishing sight. Blocking their path were leeches, lizards, slugs, and other strange, fishlike fiends.
This is bad! If the fiends noticed the writing on his right arm, they’d kill him. Rainer tried to hide the words under his sleeve, but then something immediately happened that didn’t make sense.
A massive slug spat out acid at Rainer, and he leaped aside involuntarily. His right arm swung up, slamming into the slug. The strike tore off some of its flesh but was otherwise entirely ineffective. What’s more, the fiends weren’t just attacking Rainer; they were attacking all of the Dead Host.
Why are fiends attacking us?! Still uncomprehending, Rainer was forced to fight them. The fiends also blocked any corpses that tried to go to the great tree. Without a doubt, they were protecting the Braves of the Six Flowers. It couldn’t be—did one of the Braves have the power to do this? Was one of the Braves a Saint who could control fiends? Unable to wrap his head around it, Rainer had to continue his battle with the enemies before him.
If these fiends are allies of the Six Braves… With his left arm still under his control, he indicated the message on his right arm. He grabbed his scarred limb, showing the words to the slug. He figured that if this fiend was an ally of the Six Braves, it might notice. But the slug continued its assault, heedless of his efforts, and he had to use the rare freedom of his left arm to protect himself instead.
What the hell is this? What do I do? Without a firm grasp on the situation, Rainer kept fighting.
“Damn it! That thing is fast!” Adlet cursed.
Adlet was chasing after specialist number nine through the steep ups and downs of the forest. The fiend was deploying a steady stream of the Dead Host to hold them off. A considerable gap had formed between the Braves and their target.
“Just like you, Adlet,” Nashetania commented as she fought beside him.
“I’d do a better job getting away!”
“…Why are you getting so angry?” She was aghast.
“Dozzu, can I ask something?” Adlet addressed the fiend during the battle. “Is the one we’re chasing right now really specialist number nine?”
“Its appearance is consistent with what I’ve heard of it,” replied Dozzu.
“Is there any chance it’s actually just a transforming fiend pretending?”
Dozzu considered for a moment before replying. “I doubt it. A transforming fiend can change shape, but not copy abilities. The sounds that control the Dead Host have been coming from that specialist.”
“If I were Tgurneu, though, I’d station a bunch of transforming fiends around here and use them as decoys,” said Adlet.
“Even if Tgurneu wanted to, I doubt he could. There aren’t many transforming fiends out there.”
Is that all it is? thought Adlet.
“Incidentally, we’ve encountered a problem. We’re veering off course,” said Dozzu, and Adlet realized their quarry was heading southeast. If the chase went on like this, they’d never reach the southern mountain where Fremy and Mora were lying in wait.
No choice but to do this over , thought Adlet. Besides, Goldof, Chamo, and Rolonia had fallen behind. “Quit chasing it. We’re going to stop. Dozzu, Nashetania—I’ll leave the fighting to you,” Adlet said, and they stopped. Adlet let them handle the corpses that had come to them and glanced at the crest on his right hand. The petals were still all there. Hans was safe. Mora and Fremy were alive. The plan was going well.
“I’m gonna go check on the situation.”
Adlet climbed a nearby tree. From above, he could observe the goings-on in the forest. Specialist number nine had stopped a little ways away from Adlet, seemingly making its own appraisal of the circumstances. It was still some distance to the mountain where Fremy and Mora waited.
Adlet could hear the endless shrill cries from the central and northern sides of the forest. The Dead Host was fighting with Hans and the slave-fiends Chamo had left stationed there. They wouldn’t be a problem for now.
Next, Adlet looked toward the Fainting Mountains. He could see a number of flying fiends in the sky above them. They had to have noticed the Braves’ approach long ago, but they didn’t seem to be coming any closer. The Fainting Mountains couldn’t possibly be completely deserted. Most likely, Tgurneu had given those fiends strict orders not to leave their posts so as to prevent even a single one from setting foot in the Temple of Fate.
Finally, Adlet scanned the area surrounding the forest. Still no sign of any large fiend hordes approaching. But the ones that had been keeping watch on the nearby regions would surely descend on them within a few hours. The central force that Tgurneu commanded could also show up at any time.
“Adlet! Watch out!” Nashetania called out, alerting him to danger. A corpse was scrambling up the tree toward Adlet with frightening speed. The moment his eyes locked on the corpse, it bared its yellow teeth and shrieked.
“Ah—” When Adlet saw its face, he remembered—the good-natured lady who had lived three houses over. She used to come over sometimes to help with household tasks, saying, It must be so exhausting when there’s only two of you living alone together! She was in front of him now, trying to murder him.
Adlet blocked with his sword and made to decapitate her with his counterattack, but right then, what Rolonia had said—that the Dead Host might still be alive—returned to him. “Guh!” For an instant, his sword hand stopped. The corpse’s swing nicked him, but he kicked back reflexively and knocked it to the ground. Dozzu blackened the fallen body with its lightning, and the lady who had once been so kind to him was forever still.
“Haah… Haah… Haah…” Staring at the fallen corpse, Adlet focused on quieting his ragged breathing. There’s nothing I could have done , he told himself. If I’d hesitated, it would have killed me. He attempted to calm his heart.
In his mind, he called out to the dead woman. Please forgive me. This is so we can win. To protect the world.
“Are you all right, Adlet?” Dozzu asked.
“I’m not injured. Don’t worry,” Adlet replied, shimmying along the tree branch to descend to the ground.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“…What are you talking about? I’m the strongest man in the world.” Adlet grinned. Even he could tell his face was straining. “No problems right now—it’s all going according to plan. Let’s attack one more time from the north and east.”
That was when Chamo and Goldof caught up to Adlet’s group after lagging behind. Just as Adlet thought, We attack one more time , he realized Rolonia wasn’t there.
“Rolonia…isn’t with you?” Goldof said as he scanned the perimeter. They didn’t know where she was, either.
“This isn’t good. It’s dangerous alone,” murmured Dozzu.
“Nashetania, come with me,” said Adlet. “Chamo, Goldof, Dozzu, you hold down number nine.” He took Nashetania and returned the way they had come.
They didn’t have time for this. What was Rolonia doing?
Though Rolonia had strayed from the group, it wasn’t because she’d decided to go off on her own. She’d been following Adlet, fighting the Dead Host as she went.
But during her skirmishes, Rolonia had been scanning the bodies of the Dead Host for writing. She figured there had to be others with messages carved into them. Someone was alive, and they were writing those messages to ask for help. Adlet had insisted it was a trap, but they didn’t know that for sure.
The others gradually got farther away from her, with the majority of the Dead Host behind them. Rolonia couldn’t find any bodies bearing messages. Just searching like this isn’t going to work , she thought.
A corpse jumped down from a tree at her. As she blocked its strike with her whip, she checked around her to make sure there were no other corpses.
“Yahh!” Rolonia cried out and focused her mind hard on her weapon. The thirty-meter-long whip with Rolonia’s own blood inside it undulated like a snake and wrapped around the corpse’s body. Scanning the area once more, Rolonia confirmed again that no enemies were near and approached her captive.
Earlier, after tasting a parasite’s bodily fluids, she had found out that it should be possible to remove the parasite from a Dead Host. If she were to pull it off by force, the parasite’s feelers and legs would shred the victim’s head and nerves, and the person would die. However, the parasite had very simple anatomy and Rolonia now had a general understanding of it. The thing also had essentially no capacity for independent thought.
Rolonia killed it gradually by pouring her Saint’s blood into it. If she could remove it slowly, so as not to damage the person’s vitals, it should be possible to save this person. Rolonia immobilized the struggling corpse. She bit her tongue, held the blood in her mouth, and then bit the parasite to slowly pour blood into its body.
I have to hurry—I’m causing trouble for everyone else , she thought as she gradually paralyzed the insect.
Adlet quickly found Rolonia. When he realized what she was doing, he was struck dumb.
“Oh my. This is a problem,” Nashetania said, exasperated. Rolonia was attempting to remove the parasite from one of the Dead Host.
“…We’re going, Rolonia,” insisted Adlet.
Rolonia didn’t reply. She was entirely focused on slowly pulling the legs and feelers out of the corpse’s body. The expression on her face was completely different from the one she wore when fighting. It struck Adlet that she really should be a healer, not a warrior.
“Rolonia, please stop,” said Nashetania.
But Rolonia wasn’t listening. Nashetania approached her and tried to pull her away by the arm, but Rolonia stopped her hand. “I’m almost done. Please wait a little longer.” She pulled out the feelers and legs, and the instant before the parasite was free, Adlet thought he saw the corpse’s lips moving, just barely. With the parasite removed, the body went limp.
“Water…water…” Rolonia muttered, withdrawing a flask from the packs fastened on her belt and pouring some water into her mouth. She dripped the water from her mouth to the mouth of the Dead Host corpse… or rather the man who had once been one of the Dead Host. She also removed one gauntlet, baring her wrist. She bit at an artery, and blood spurted out from the sides of her mouth.
“Rolonia, what are you—?” Nashetania began.
The stream of blood gushed out of her wound toward the corpse. Wherever Rolonia’s blood touched the parched, rotting body, life returned. “This works best for emergency treatment. His eyes should open soon,” Rolonia said.
But the man’s eyes did not open. Frantic, Rolonia put her hands over his heart and tried to breathe air into his lungs, but to Adlet, watching from the side, the effort appeared entirely pointless.
“It’s over now,” he said. “Let’s go, Rolonia!”
“No, I can’t! Wait just a bit longer.”
“I thought we decided not to save the Dead Host!”
“This is the one time when I can’t do what you say, Addy!”
Adlet grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. Rolonia shook him off, glaring at him.
“Come with us!”
Rolonia slung the fallen body over her shoulder and ran after Adlet. Surprisingly, her legs and back were strong, and she didn’t seem to struggle carrying a person.
“There’s gonna be another fight. Leave that behind,” said Adlet.
Rolonia shot back at him, “I told you… This time, I can’t follow your orders.”
Irritated, Adlet spoke more roughly. “You can’t save him. It’s just not possible.”
“It is possible! I removed the parasite. His heart is beating. If I give him enough treatment, I can save him.”
Don’t be stupid , thought Adlet. “If you give him enough treatment? When are you gonna find the time for that? We have to kill specialist number nine and head to the Temple of Fate, and once we get there, we have to learn about the Black Barrenbloom. When do you plan to heal him?”
“I…” Rolonia faltered. Nashetania silently watched the pair argue.
“You and Mora are the only healers on our team, and we have limited healing supplies, too. There’s no way you can save all of the Dead Host.”
Rolonia didn’t reply.
“Besides, once you’ve saved him, what happens then? Are you planning to abandon him in the Howling Vilelands with no way to fight? He’d just be waiting to get killed and eaten by fiends!”
Rolonia listened to him in silence—but her eyes told him that she was steadfastly determined. Without saying a word, she was communicating to him that she would not obey.
Rolonia had always stuck close behind Adlet, fighting timidly and following his orders loyally—so loyally that sometimes he wished she would offer her own opinions a bit more. Adlet could never have imagined she would oppose him so openly. He couldn’t believe how impossible it was to reason with her. He just couldn’t understand her. Why should she put herself in danger to save the Dead Host? They were total strangers to her. He’d thought she was more afraid of causing trouble for others than anything else. So then why was she suddenly insisting on doing this her way?
“Rolonia…”
Maybe she’s hiding something , Adlet thought. For the first time, he began to grow suspicious of her.
Adlet, Nashetania, and Rolonia linked up with the others again. Goldof repeated his charge, trying to break through the enemy’s formation, while Chamo’s slave-fiends and Dozzu’s lightning strikes supported him. But the enemy just wouldn’t run southward like they wanted it to.
“We’re changing positions,” said Adlet. “We’ll attack from the northeast to chase it south.”
Nashetania nodded. With the man slung over her shoulders, Rolonia followed, too.
Now northeast of the enemy, Adlet started bombing the Dead Host with the explosives Fremy had given him, trying to scatter their formation. They repelled his bombs, and when they failed to do so, they sacrificed themselves to protect specialist number nine.
Nashetania’s blades sprang from the ground toward number nine. Now targeted from two directions at once, specialist number nine gave a particularly loud screech, and the Dead Host began to move south en masse.
The six of them were together again and chasing Tgurneu’s minion.
Dozzu approached Adlet. “It seems your strategy was the right choice.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m the strongest man in the world!” If Fremy had been with them, it would have been difficult for her to shoot her target. Her presence would have made the fiend wary of her fire and tighten its formations further. Who knew how many hours it would’ve taken to kill it then?
Adlet and Dozzu were staving off the Dead Host’s attacks from both sides as they ran, knocking them down with lightning strikes and paralysis needles, when Dozzu said, “One more thing… What is Rolonia hiding?”
That took Adlet by surprise. Dozzu had voiced the very doubts Adlet had been feeling.
Dozzu continued, “I can’t understand her reasons for being so obsessed with the Dead Host. Don’t you suspect she has a secret?”
“You mean like how Mora betrayed us and Goldof left us?” asked Adlet.
“I’m not saying that.”
Adlet and Dozzu covered Goldof as he charged in once more. The young knight was their core fighter in this particular battle. It was his knack for breaching enemy lines that would run down specialist number nine.
“Rolonia was originally just a laundry girl,” said Adlet. “She just happened to be chosen as the Saint of Spilled Blood, and then Mora used her. That’s all it is. She couldn’t be hiding anything.”
“Then why?”
Adlet didn’t know, either. Even now, Rolonia still had the man slung over her shoulder as she fought.
“Are you satisfied with this state of affairs?” Dozzu asked.
“Of course I’m not. Just stop complaining and let me handle it.”
“Understood. Though I feel somewhat uneasy.”
Gradually, the number of the Dead Host slowing the Braves’ pursuit decreased. Adlet stopped running and left the remaining Dead Host to Chamo’s slave-fiends and Nashetania.
Dozzu approached Rolonia, who was at the back of the group. “So you managed to remove the parasite. That’s surprising,” it said, eyeing the man Rolonia carried.
“He’s weak, but doesn’t have any major wounds,” commented Rolonia. “Now I just have to restore some of his vitality. Dozzu…you said it was…i-impossible, but…it’s not.”
“No, unfortunately, Rolonia… It’s too late.” Dozzu shook its head.
?
“…”
“You’re telling me I’m not even allowed to let you know what I’ve seen? To overlook everything unless I have definite proof?”
Adlet shot back, “You’re our enemy. It just looks to me like you’re trying to frame Rolonia.”
“I have bombs attached to my knees, and I’m surrounded by Braves. Would you consider attempting a setup, in such a predicament?”
“I still can’t trust anything you say.”
“Maybe,” said Chamo. “We can’t trust Nashetania, but Chamo’s not so sure about what you’re saying, either. It’s kinda weird to say that you’ve gotta trust everyone unless there’s solid proof they’re the seventh.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But I—”
“Chamo’s been seriously wondering about this stuff. Like, why does that moo-head keep getting in our way?”
“…Well, she’s not—”
“We gonna take out Rolonia, Adlet? Or kill the princess?” Chamo touched her foxtail to her mouth, smirking. She still had quite a few slave-fiends left in her stomach.
“Chamo,” said Nashetania, “I don’t believe we should kill Rolonia right away. The flute may not be hers—since there is a chance the seventh placed it on her, without her realizing.”
“Yeah, s’pose so.”
“What on earth are you proposing?” demanded Dozzu. “What is this about, Nashetania?” The fiend was rattled. At the very least, its behavior didn’t seem like an act to Adlet. Besides, Dozzu and Nashetania wouldn’t have had the time to scheme together. This wasn’t any scheme of Dozzu’s.
“I’m just telling everyone what I saw. I’m not plotting anything, Dozzu.” Nashetania turned back to Adlet. “As I said to Chamo, I won’t say it’s entirely clear that Rolonia is the enemy. But it is possible she’s planning to delay us, or perhaps she’s laid a trap to kill us in that cave. We cannot let her go.”
“But I know what they said!” cried Rolonia. “They said to go to the cave! They said to save them!”
Adlet was shocked. Rolonia was more worried about the Dead Host than about herself. Why? he wondered. Was she actually hiding something?
He couldn’t believe himself. He’d just been about to trust Nashetania’s word over Rolonia’s. Unforgivable. But now that the suspicions had been born, they wouldn’t go away no matter how much he denied them.
Still, Adlet placed his hand on Rolonia’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. I don’t know what Nashetania is plotting, but you’ve got the strongest man in the world on your side. I’m not gonna let you get killed.”
“…Thank you,” Rolonia replied. But her attitude revealed it to him.
It couldn’t be—was she still… “Are you planning on going to that cave?”
Her silence was the same as a yes.
“What are you thinking?!” yelled Adlet. “Do you not get what’s going on here?! Nashetania’s about to set you up. She’s trying to frame you!”
“But I have to go, right now! We might lose the opportunity!”
“Enough about the Dead Host! I told you, that writing and the talking corpses, it’s all Tgurneu’s plot!” He couldn’t understand her. The flute thing wasn’t the only cause for suspicion. The other reason was her incomprehensible attempt to try to save the unsaveable Dead Host.
“Obviously, Chamo’s not gonna let you go off on your own.” Chamo pressed close to Rolonia.
“I agree with Chamo,” said Nashetania. “I’m sorry, but we need to prevent Rolonia from doing anything.”
“Hey, moo-head. Hand over that whip,” Chamo demanded, holding out her hand. Rolonia’s eyes filled with fright. Her whip was her only weapon.
“Chamo’ll hold on to it until you’re cleared of suspicion. That’s okay, right? You’ve been totally useless, anyway.”
“B-but this…”
“If you’re innocent, Chamo’ll give it back. But you still can’t hand it over, huh? Why not?” Chamo approached her, waving her foxtail.
Rolonia stepped back. “I can’t fight without my whip.”
“Exactly. Don’t fight. If you can’t give it up, then Chamo’s got no choice.”
Right as Chamo plunged her foxtail down her throat, Adlet sprang into action, using his sword to block the attack of the slave-fiend from her stomach. “Stop it, Chamo!”
“Chamo’s not gonna kill her! Just make her kinda so she can’t move.”
Adlet warded off the slave-fiends she puked up, one after another. He understood that Chamo wasn’t trying to kill Rolonia, but still, he couldn’t allow this.
“Rolonia…” said Goldof, “hand over…your whip. I don’t want this to cause a…falling out in the group.”
“I-I can’t!”
When Goldof grabbed at her, Adlet kicked him in the side. The slave-fiends took that opportunity to close in on Rolonia. She fought back, unwilling to relinquish her whip.
“You’re dumb, Rolonia,” said Chamo. “If you’d just done as you were told, you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“I-I…”
The dispute among the allies continued, all within sight of the enemy. Meanwhile, Nashetania, the one who had incited the uproar, spectated from the side.
“Please, hold on. This isn’t good. Specialist number nine is moving.” That was when Dozzu, who had been watching the enemy, called out to the others. The long-neglected Dead Host were headed their way. They had apparently discerned that something was wrong, and so they had chosen this time to go on the offensive.
“We’ve got no choice. We’re fighting them!” Adlet stood in the lead, facing the Dead Host.
“Oh, well. Guess dealing with Rolonia comes later,” said Chamo, and the slave-fiends attacking Rolonia switched targets to the Dead Host.
The battle became fiercer than ever before, not at all like when they were chasing a fleeing enemy. They had to fend off the Dead Host coming at them while also herding the crowd toward the southern mountain where Fremy and Mora were waiting.
As they fought, Adlet wondered, What the hell is going on? What should I do? Is Nashetania trying to trick us? Or has she actually figured out that Rolonia could be the seventh and is just telling us? Either option was viable. He couldn’t make a judgment. Did Rolonia just want to save the Dead Host? Or was she actually trying to lure the Braves into a trap? Adlet didn’t know about that, either, because he couldn’t understand why she would be so obsessed with saving them. Rolonia was kind. She would naturally consider it. But why would she risk her life to do it? Still bewildered, he battled the Dead Host.
Adlet tossed a large bomb while Goldof charged in, breaking the formation. Somehow, they managed to get the enemies to stop attacking and begin their retreat.
That was the moment Nashetania said, “Rolonia is gone!”
Adlet turned around. Rolonia, who had been fighting in the rear, had vanished. No way. Did she really go off to that cave to try to save the Dead Host?
“Were you not watching her, Chamo?!” Nashetania yelled.
“No! What were you and Goldof doing?!” Chamo began bickering with her. Goldof seemed unsure of whether he should chase down Rolonia or not.
“Well, this is a mess. Chamo might have to do more than just hurt her,” Chamo grumbled. Now the group’s suspicions were even stronger.
“What are you doing, Rolonia?” Adlet muttered. He was convinced that the message written on that corpse as well as the talking Dead Host were all part of Tgurneu’s trap. At this rate, Rolonia might get herself killed. He had to keep her safe—but how? “Rolonia…are you really…?” He struggled to suppress his growing doubts toward her.
Looks like I caught them , thought specialist number nine. It had gone on the offensive not to try to kill the Six Braves, but to approach them and find out what was going on. Noticing that a discussion had turned into infighting, the fiend had determined that perhaps one of them had fallen into its trap. Having heard their conversation, that suspicion had turned to certainty.
Specialist number nine recalled the past—it had to have been about ten years ago, now. After placing itself under Tgurneu’s banner, it had spent a long period of time evolving itself. Using the vast numbers of human test subjects Tgurneu had gathered, it perfected its Dead Host.
But when it had presented the fruits of its efforts to Tgurneu, for some reason the commander’s expression turned sour. Number nine had been so confident in its masterpiece, it found the reaction difficult to believe.
“It’s just not quite satisfactory,” said Tgurneu. “Look, this Dead Host of yours can’t talk, can it?” Number nine shook its head. The Dead Host was a weapon for battle. It shouldn’t need speech.
“I couldn’t call it perfect, then. Make it so they can speak on command. And also…” Tgurneu put one hand to its chin, thinking. “Yes, I’d like just a few of them to be able to move freely.”
“Whät on earth for?” asked number nine.
“Don’t ask stupid questions. Just trust me, number nine,” Tgurneu said with a smile.
In retrospect, Tgurneu’s keen insight astonished number nine. It would never have come up with that idea even if it had racked its brains for a thousand years. Tgurneu had predicted that one of the Braves of the Six Flowers would try to save the Dead Host. It had also said that if number nine could use them effectively, it could lure the Six Braves into a trap and kill them.
At first, number nine had thought this impossible. Humans were foolish creatures, but not so stupid as to want to save the Dead Host. And it couldn’t have even imagined that one of them would be so foolish as to go off on their own to make the attempt.
The fiend emitted a special call to the Dead Host in the central area of the forest, ordering them to lure Rolonia Manchetta into the cave and instructing each corpse on what to say to her.
Specialist number nine didn’t know if she was a real Brave or the seventh. But Tgurneu surely would never have placed such a foolish girl under its command. I’ll get rid of her quickly , it concluded.
Meanwhile, Mora was keeping under cover on the slope of the low mountain. With her power of clairvoyance, she observed the whole mountain. There was no sign of the Dead Host or the fiend approaching. The mountain was entirely silent. “Not yet? They’re late,” Mora murmured.
Fremy replied calmly, “No, they’re not. It should take this much time. Just keep calm and wait.” Fremy had said that the most important part of a sniping operation was patience. She must have done this many times before, but Mora, who was unaccustomed to it, really couldn’t hide her stress.
There were many causes for concern: the seventh, Dozzu and Nashetania, and Tgurneu. And Mora was especially worried about Adlet and Rolonia. Both of them had been terribly troubled over the Dead Host. Mora could only pray that their sympathy wouldn’t lead to any erratic behavior.
But despite her worry, Mora couldn’t know what was going on with the others from her position. All she could do was keep waiting.
About half an hour before Rolonia left the group, Hans was on the northern end of the forest, standing silently up a tree. The Dead Host were milling about below.
He had strung up wire here and there around the trees. Every time a corpse stepped on one, there was a wooden smack, and every time that sound rang out, the Dead Host would descend into a mad search for the enemy. What Hans had constructed was just a simple clapper device. But the Dead Host didn’t have the mental capacity to figure that out, nor did they have the ability to learn that the noise was meaningless.
Hans smirked and soundlessly ran off along the branches of the trees.
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