Chapter 5
Discovery
They’d killed so many of the Dead Host already, but corpses were still wandering here and there about the forest. Rolonia listened as hard as she could to the sound of their footsteps, seeking out the areas where enemy forces were thinnest so she could run onward.
From far behind her, she heard the shrieks of the Dead Host, followed by the crack of Dozzu’s lightning. “They’re fighting…” For a second, she felt she had to go back and help out—but a moment later, she decided against that. If she were to go back now, she’d be killed. Nashetania still had her framed. Dozzu, Chamo, and Goldof all doubted her, and now that she’d run off alone like this, they had to be even more suspicious. Why is this happening? Rolonia wondered. She couldn’t go back. But she didn’t know what she should do, either. She couldn’t think of any way to prove her innocence.
Just a few hours earlier, back in that hut, she had inspected her equipment. She hadn’t had any such flute then. Nashetania must have stuck it in there. But Rolonia also knew she’d been constantly keeping an eye on the princess. If Nashetania had touched her, then Rolonia would have noticed immediately. She couldn’t have had a chance to plant that flute on her. So then who was it? Goldof? Dozzu? Or the seventh? No matter how she mulled over it, she couldn’t recall anything.
“I’m sorry, Addy.” I’ve caused trouble for everyone again , she thought. Her own stupidity was to blame for her falling for Nashetania’s trickery. But no amount of frustration or remorse could make her any smarter.
Rolonia recalled the expression on Adlet’s face, right before she had left. Even he had been suspicious of her. That was hard to swallow.
But she started running again, weaving between the corpses toward where the cave would be. She could deal with her own problems later. There was something she had to do: she would save the Dead Host.
“It’s okay… I can…do this.” She was so scared, her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. What can someone like me even manage, anyway? she thought. But she was more angry than anything else. To her, everyone involved in this was unforgivable: Tgurneu, for creating the Dead Host, and her allies, for abandoning them.
“!” Had one of them heard Rolonia muttering, or had that just been a coincidence? A corpse had noticed her. Immediately, Rolonia veered off to one side, and she was about to escape when the corpse shrieked, alerting the others.
“Wahh!” Dead Host corpses closed in from either side, swinging at her. She took their strikes with the pauldrons of her armor, but the impact made her stumble forward. She couldn’t take hits like Goldof could. She nearly fell over, but she picked herself up again and ran. Before she could get away, another corpse blocked her way. She couldn’t get past them without fighting.
She grasped her whip with both hands and swung it. She tried to scream obscenities at the Dead Host, since it was the only way to make herself fight. But the words wouldn’t come out. She could battle fiends, but it was humans standing in front of her. She thrashed her whip about, stopping the Dead Host’s charge, but she was too slow, and deflecting them was the most she could manage.
“Guh!” Right as she was about to get away, a corpse struck her in the face. Blood spurted from her broken nose. Instantly, she activated her power as the Saint of Spilled Blood, manipulating and coagulating her blood to return her broken nose to its original shape. But the Dead Host didn’t even give her the time to recover. They hurled themselves at her one after another.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled, and this time, she struck with all her power behind it. The whip leaped and wove around the trees to take out corpse after corpse. She didn’t have the luxury of going easy on them. She’d probably killed a number of them already. Though Rolonia was tortured with guilt, she pushed forward. She didn’t have the time to heal them, either. She had to go to the cave and find whatever was there—she didn’t know what it was, or if it would really lead her to rescue the Dead Host, but there was meaning in her efforts because she knew what those corpses had told her.
That was when she heard the fallen body speak behind her. “Please…heal me…” was all it said, and then it breathed its last.
“I was right,” Rolonia murmured. Some of the Dead Host were still alive. The parasites had infiltrated their nerves and brains, but even so, some of their minds were still alive.
From somewhere else came another voice. One of Rolonia’s pursuers was moving its lips. “Don’t…kill me…” it said as it lunged for her.
Rolonia rolled away. “Please, hold on! I will save you!” she yelled, and she kept on running.
Rainer wandered about the forest for a long time. He was hearing fewer calls from the Dead Host in the north, and the south had been quiet for a while—but now it seemed that battle had recommenced. Why aren’t the Six Braves coming this way? I’m over here.
Now there was a lizard-fiend in front of him, and a scream rose from Rainer’s throat as his body fought it together with the other members of the Dead Host. The lizard-fiend swung its tail and spat acid at the Dead Host. Its tactics appeared to be pure offense and no defense, as though it wanted nothing more than to take down just one more corpse.
Not again! The mass of Dead Host pinned the lizard-fiend’s limbs as Rainer’s body stomped on its head over and over. The fiend turned into a lump of mud.
He had lost track of how many of these they had beaten so far. He’d shown them the words on his right arm more than once. But the mysterious fiends never stopped fighting, and the Braves of the Six Flowers hadn’t found him, either.
These fiends were a no-go after all. He had to encounter the Braves somehow. But his left arm wasn’t moving, and the area where they were fighting was so far away. He desperately racked his brains for a way to get close. But as long as his left arm, his only hope, wouldn’t move for him, none of that contemplation was going to be any use at all.
He wondered where the five corpses with the messages on their left arms were. The Braves of the Six Flowers might well have encountered one of them. Had they just not found the words?
…It couldn’t be that… A terrifying thought came to Rainer, and it chilled him to the core. What if the Braves had already found the messages he had left…and they were ignoring them? That would kill his hope entirely.
Had they decided there was no way to save the Dead Host and given up on them? Or had they decided that Rainer’s information wasn’t worth the danger? Or maybe they believed the messages were part of Tgurneu’s scheme? If so, it was all over.
But the moment that thought struck Rainer, he heard the Dead Host screaming nearby. There shouldn’t be any of the mysterious fiends in that direction. Rainer’s body reacted to the shrieks and raced away, and other Dead Hosts nearby surged in the same direction. This was different from before. Their numbers were greater now. They had to be headed toward a Brave.
One of them might have come looking for Rainer. His heart swelled with hope. Have they noticed my messages? No, even if they haven’t, it’s fine. If they can just read the words on my right arm…
Eventually, he was able to discern the outline of a warrior. He could faintly see the luster of metal through the trees. The warrior was sprinting for the deepest part of the forest. As Rainer chased her, he noticed that she was a short girl with a whip who was trying to avoid killing the Dead Host. The messy-haired swordsman Rainer had seen earlier had no compunction about cutting down the enemies in front of him, but this girl was only using her whip to defend herself and avoid fatally wounding any of her targets.
Rainer was certain she was trying to save the Dead Host—or at the very least, she was trying not to kill them. If he showed his message to her, she would notice that Rainer was alive.
I can see there’s hope! Come on, arm, move now! Rainer prayed in desperation as he ran. But his left arm wouldn’t budge.
That was when he happened to hear a strange-sounding voice, like someone, somewhere, was talking to him. He wanted to look around, but his neck wouldn’t move. There couldn’t have been any Braves around, though, aside from her, and the Dead Host couldn’t speak.
Someone said something again, and this time, Rainer could hear it clearly, too. “Save…me…” It was the Dead Host talking. The corpses with Rainer who were chasing after the armored girl.
Why were they speaking? Rainer was confused. He’d thought that all the rest of them were mindless living corpses. Had he been mistaken?
He could hear words from every mouth, each saying something different. “We’re alive,” “Don’t kill me,” “Go to the cave,” and “Save us.” Their words were various, but they were all trying to communicate the same message. The corpses wanted her to do two things: save them and go to the cave.
Back when Rainer had been lying in that cavern, not a single corpse had said anything. He couldn’t understand why they could suddenly communicate. Had something happened to specialist number nine? Had someone else enabled them to speak?
As Rainer’s body chased Rolonia, he considered this question—until he reached an answer. I can’t believe it… How can this…how can this be happening? Rainer’s high hopes plummeted to despair in the blink of an eye.
Why were the Dead Host talking? The only answer he could think of was that the fiend controlling them had ordered it.
Rainer also immediately understood why it had made its corpses talk. Specialist number nine was trying to lure the armored girl into the cave. As for what it would do there, Rainer could only imagine that it planned to kill her—and she hadn’t figured it out yet. At this rate, she was going to die.
Stop, Brave! There’s nothing in there!
And that wasn’t the only reason for Rainer’s despair. Once the armored girl realized it was a trap, what would happen?
The answer was obvious: The Braves of the Six Flowers would believe Rainer’s messages to be part of the enemy’s plot and assume that Tgurneu had dropped clues of its secret weapon to lure the Six Braves to their death.
What do I do? What do I do?!
The girl in the armor had already gotten farther away. Dodging and weaving, she used her whip to pull herself up into a tree and dashed along the branches deeper into the forest. Then she was gone.
Rolonia had vanished. But even now that Adlet was aware, he couldn’t chase after her. They were still fighting to push number nine toward the southern mountain. They were gradually making progress, but the fiend’s defenses were as solid as ever.
“Damn it, damn it! What do I do?” Adlet muttered as he lobbed a bomb. Rolonia must have gone off for the sake of the Dead Host. Did she not understand how dangerous her situation was? He didn’t understand what her real motives were. Was she actually trying to save them, or was she trying to trick Adlet, as Nashetania had said?
“…What am I thinking?”
A corpse lunged at Adlet from behind in an attempt to pin his arms behind his back, but the boy coolly ducked, caught the impact, and grabbed the corpse by the arms to throw it forward. He slammed it on the ground headfirst and stomped on its neck for good measure.
What was he doing, suspecting Rolonia? She’d just fallen for Tgurneu’s and Nashetania’s tricks. How could he not go to save her? The wheels of Adlet’s brain spun as he mulled over what he should do, and what he had no choice but to do.
“Goldof!” he yelled. Goldof, who had been about to charge the center of the enemy’s formation, glanced over to him. “Protect Chamo! Don’t let Nashetania or Dozzu lay a finger on her!”
“What are you talking about?” Goldof yelled back.
“Just listen! I’m making sure we’re ready for Dozzu and Nashetania to betray us! If I find a single scratch on Chamo, you better believe that Nashetania is gonna die!”
If Adlet was going to leave to find Rolonia, the problem would be Chamo. Once he left, she’d be stuck alone surrounded by Dozzu and its allies. Goldof was basically still on their side, so Adlet had no choice but to let him protect her. The young knight was fighting for Nashetania’s safety, not her ambition. Adlet didn’t know how effective threats would be, but that was all he could manage right now.
“Adlet, what are you talking ab—” Nashetania tried to say, but Adlet ignored her and yelled at Chamo.
“I’m trusting you to handle the rest, Chamo!”
“What do you mean?” Chamo replied, but Adlet wasn’t listening. He was already running off after Rolonia.
Adlet couldn’t find any Dead Host patrolling the forest. They’d probably joined the pursuit of Rolonia. As Adlet ran, he wondered why she was going so far to protect the Dead Host. Think. There has to be a reason. He considered the things that had happened since they’d learned about the Dead Host, as well as their fight in the Phantasmal Barrier, but none of it rang any bells. So he reached further back to two years earlier, when they had met on the mountain where Adlet had been training. He sifted through each and every memory.
That was when one certain incident rose again in his mind. “No way…Rolonia…,” he murmured.
It couldn’t be that , he thought.
Meanwhile, Rolonia was thinking back on the past, too, recalling the time when she had first met Adlet Mayer.
Rolonia Manchetta believed that life was something you put up with until you died. As one who was unfortunate enough to be born, she was required to endure life until her death. There was nothing that could be done about it. It was inevitable. This was what Rolonia had always believed—until the day she met Adlet Mayer.
She’d been born on the eastern edge of the continent, in Lind, Land of Blue Winds. It was a very small country, and most of the other Braves wouldn’t have known where it was. A majority of the people in the Land of Blue Winds made their living by raising cows, and Rolonia’s parents were no exception. She grew up watching the cattle leisurely chewing their cud, and the sight never bored her. Rolonia’s job was to blow her flute to call her father or the herding dog whenever the occasional cow looked liable to stray from the herd.
Rolonia loved cows. If she were asked what was the most wonderful thing in the world, she would name them as her answer without hesitation. She loved them so much that later, when she would make her personal armor at All Heavens Temple, her design was cow-inspired—though it was so extremely cow-like that the other Saints thought it was awful.
Her father was a taciturn but kind man. Her mother was cheerful and talkative, and she knew how to have a good time. They cultivated within Rolonia a heart full of love for all things and vulnerable to sorrow at the misfortunes of others. If Rolonia had lived a life without incident, she would surely have ended up a simple and kind cattle herder. That life would certainly have been better for her, too.
When Rolonia was seven years old, her home village was attacked by brigands. When they appeared out of the blue, the tiny little village in the tiny little country was powerless to resist. The outlaws pillaged the town as easy as snatching up loose coins in the street. In just one night, Rolonia lost her parents and everything else important to her. After that, Rolonia learned the cold, hard truth that the world was filled with tragedy and pain, and that those without power, knowledge, or charm could do nothing but flee.
Now an orphan, Rolonia was taken in by a wealthy merchant of a neighboring land. People called him a loving and good man for raising children with no family—but that was just the mask he presented to the world. He made the orphans work on his farm. The ones who slacked off were whipped mercilessly, and the ones who worked hard received not even a single copper coin in reward. The children were slaves in all but name.
The children in this harsh environment did not choose to change their lot or rebel against their horrible circumstances. Rarely would any even try to escape. Instead, the children found an outlet for their discontent and despair in the weakest among them. The one who came to serve that role was the stupidest of the group, Rolonia.
Every time Rolonia made some mistake, the other children would hit her and insult her. They never overlooked a single misstep, no matter how small. The children enjoyed seeing who would discover her next blunder. Eventually, they even came to do this openly in front of the adults who monitored them.
Rolonia never fought back. She believed the situation was her fault. Everyone was angry at her because she had screwed up. She was convinced that she was the wrongdoer, and the others were all her victims. She would try to never make another mistake, but even then, she couldn’t work to their satisfaction. And even when it wasn’t Rolonia’s fault, the other children still said it was. Gradually, she learned that she was no good, no matter what she did. Despite her best efforts, there was no point. She was slow, couldn’t do anything, and would only ever be a burden on the people around her. Rolonia thought she could avoid being a burden at the very least, but even that effort was in vain.
No matter what the other children did to her, Rolonia never talked back, so they started blaming every bad thing on her. They tormented her, making their own failures and unhappiness with their circumstances all Rolonia’s responsibility. In the end, she stopped even trying to avoid causing trouble. She would just smile her meek smiles and pray they wouldn’t bully her.
Then a theft occurred on the farm. The leaders among the children had planned it, but the whole deed was pinned on Rolonia. Even then, Rolonia believed it was her fault.
Cast out from the farm, Rolonia wandered to survive. She would find out about a position and ask to be hired, but she was refused. This happened over and over.
Walking through one town, she encountered a girl dressed well but with dirty shoes. Rolonia resolved to go speak to the girl and was permitted to polish her shoes with her own clothes. And then, with a subservient smile, Rolonia said to her, “Please let me work. I’ll do anything.” That girl was an acolyte who aspired to become a Saint at the Temple of Spilled Blood. And thus Rolonia got herself a new job.
But just having somewhere new to live and different meals to eat wasn’t going to change her life. She was still as dim-witted as ever, and the people around her still saw her as nothing more than a scapegoat for their resentments and discontent. Rolonia didn’t question it, nor did she feel the desire to escape her circumstances. Everything she did ended in failure. Her only goal in life was to stay as far out of anyone’s way as she could, and her only wish was to avoid angering anyone.
Rolonia came to think of life as something you survived until your death. Her selection as the Saint of Spilled Blood was another such occasion.
At first, she thought it was some kind of mistake. Then she prayed, Please let it be a mistake. There was no way someone like her could be fit to be a Saint. She’d never managed to do anything right her whole life. She could do nothing but quiver, imagining how people would insult her and call her the worst of all the Saints.
When it was decided that the members of the temple would perform the ceremony for her to return her Saint’s power, Rolonia was momentarily relieved. She figured that being a servant rather than a Saint would mean people would be angry with her less often. But her nightmare had only just begun.
On the recommendation of Mora, the Elder of All Heavens Temple, Rolonia was saddled with special Saint’s training. This was part of Mora’s scheme, but Rolonia couldn’t have known that at the time. When Mora told her she should aspire to be a Brave of the Six Flowers, Rolonia was so scared she had struggled to breathe and passed out. When she opened her eyes, she thought in a moment of relief, So it was just a dream, and then she was informed that this was real life. She passed out again.
Just as Mora had anticipated, Rolonia had exceptional potential as a Saint. Mora told her that it surpassed that of the authorities of the temple, such as herself and Leura, Saint of Sun. Mora even told her that she could rival Chamo Rosso, the most powerful Saint alive.
But that knowledge didn’t please Rolonia—it only frightened her further. She believed she was destined to be called an incompetent, utterly useless Saint, despite her unrivaled potential. After so many years of soaking in self-condemnation, she was not going to change so easily. Mora even ordered her to study under famous fighters, but Rolonia was incapable of learning anything from these seasoned warriors. It was just a waste of time.
Then Rolonia visited Atreau Spiker, the mysterious fiend-extermination specialist, and met Adlet Mayer.
Rolonia remembered well the first time she encountered Adlet. Her first impression was that of pure fear. Adlet had been naked from the waist up, teeth clenched, eyes bloodshot, wearing his fingers raw throwing needles at a target. The moment Rolonia saw his face, it struck her that he resembled the fiends from the legends of the Braves of the Six Flowers, a creature focused solely on hate and killing. That was her initial image of him.
“Adlet Mayer,” he’d said by way of introduction. “Eventually, I’ll be the strongest man in the world. But not yet. Don’t talk to me.”
She wouldn’t have wanted to talk to him, even if he had asked. Rolonia bowed her head repeatedly and tried to escape. But an instant later, Adlet roared and lunged toward her. She wrapped her arms around her head and sank to the ground—but Adlet’s target was Atreau. Calmly, Atreau threw Adlet to the ground and then kicked him, over and over. Once he couldn’t move anymore, Atreau stomped on his face and spat on him.
Rolonia had just been witness to something dreadful. Why had this just happened? Watching the scene, she cursed her fate.
Days passed. Just as Adlet had said, the two of them didn’t interact much at all. Atreau lectured Rolonia on the subject of fiends, and she also studied by herself, perusing the books that Atreau had written. Atreau took care of her everyday necessities.
In between the lectures and her study time, Rolonia watched Adlet. His activities looked less like training and more like self-torture. Once every day, he would have a match with Atreau, but to Rolonia, their fights just seemed like one-sided beatings. She wondered what he was doing, but she didn’t have the courage to talk to him.
Rolonia didn’t even know why she was so curious about Adlet. Perhaps she’d fallen in love with him the moment they met, and she’d never noticed. Perhaps she just found his injuries distressing. Or perhaps seeing him wounded on the ground reminded her of her own experiences being bullied. But one night, Rolonia stepped into the cave where Adlet slept, breaking Atreau’s order not to associate with him. She figured that she would heal his wounds while he was asleep and then immediately run away. That way he wouldn’t be able to get angry with her.
But the moment Rolonia touched Adlet, he jolted awake. “Why are you in here?!” he yelled.
He was angry with her. Worst case, he might even kill her. Rolonia jumped back into the the corner of the cave and began trembling. “M-M-Master Atreau told me to treat your wounds…” She tried to deceive him with a spur-of-the-moment lie, but she quickly regretted it. Her lies were always exposed eventually. But surprisingly, Adlet made himself available without a fight.
With her inexperienced hands, Rolonia healed him. Her abilities were the only thing anyone aside from her parents had ever praised her for. How long had it been since she had last been useful to someone? Rolonia was so glad, she cracked a tiny smile.
After that, the two of them spoke. When Rolonia told Adlet about herself, he yelled at her, furious, and demanded why she would throw away the power she had. Then he started sobbing, telling her he wanted power himself.
I screwed up again , Rolonia thought, and she tried to make him stop crying, but the attempt caused her to start crying, too. Adlet stopped first and ended up comforting her instead. Had anyone seen them, they would have thought them a real pair of idiots.
As dawn neared in the cave, Adlet apologized to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve had it rough, too.”
“No, it’s okay… I’m fine.”
“I can’t be like this. I have to get stronger. If I were actually strong, I’d never have made you cry,” he said, and then he smiled sadly. Rolonia felt that she’d misjudged him. He was a kind boy, hurt and exhausted.
That was how Adlet first caught her eye. Bit by bit, the reason for her attention began to change.
After that, when Rolonia was free, she would talk to him—though he devoted the majority of his time to training, so they couldn’t spend much time together. It was totally against orders, but Atreau was either fed up or indifferent about it, so he didn’t say anything.
As if trying to make up for his earlier castigation of her, Adlet approached her with kindness. He listened intently when she shared her problems with him and rambled about the past. He offered her advice, sometimes encouraged her, and other times scolded her. Rolonia, in turn, healed his wounded heart and always encouraged him.
But Adlet was not simply a kind boy. When he deplored his own powerlessness, he would wear a visage more frightening than anything she’d ever seen. But even then, he never took it out on Rolonia again. Adlet was an enigma. One moment, his expression would be filled with hatred, like a fiend, and the next, he’d give her a beaming smile. She wanted to avoid him when he had that frightening look, but when he was gentle, they could chat and get along. He was kind but terrifying, and Rolonia didn’t know which face was his real one. He was firmly determined to become a Brave of the Six Flowers, but he hadn’t told her why.
Gradually, Rolonia came to realize that she looked forward to their conversations. He was the only person she’d ever been able to talk to without being scared, aside from her late parents, and the one person with whom she could be open about her feelings. Though they had only just met, he’d become a significant presence in her life. It didn’t take her long to realize that it was love.
Once, at the end of a lecture, Rolonia tried asking Atreau if Adlet could be one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. Atreau replied coldly that it would never happen, that there was not even a one-in-a-million chance. There was one reason for that: he had no talent. It seemed Adlet himself was aware of that, too.
Rolonia was unbearably curious. Why would he try to tackle this task, knowing it was impossible? If it wasn’t going to work out, it was better to just give up. Failing without trying didn’t hurt as much as putting in the effort and failing anyway. Rolonia was intimately familiar with the fact.
Once, in the middle of the night, she asked him as she healed him. “Adlet, how can you go on without giving up?” she said.
Adlet replied coldly, “So now I’m getting that from you, too, huh, Rolonia?”
She got scared, thinking she’d made him angry. She trembled, imagining her only friend had come to hate her.
But Adlet quickly smiled. “Everyone tells me I’ve got no talent: my master, the other apprentices who ran off, the occasional visitors like you—everyone. At first, I figured that was just bullshit, but lately I’ve come to think that maybe they’re right.”
“Adlet… Then…”
“So I eventually started thinking maybe I was fine with having no talent.”
“…Huh?”
Smiling, he said, “It’s way more amazing for someone like me with zero talent at all to become the strongest man in the world rather than some genius who was born with it, right?”
“Y-yeah.”
“And I know it’ll feel awesome to get there. I bet a genius would never feel anything that amazing.”
“…”
“I’m not gonna whine anymore about wanting talent. I’ll become the strongest man in the world as the person I am.”
Rolonia fell silent. She had believed all this time that she was a failure as a human being. That was why she believed it was futile even to try. But Adlet had found an entirely different way to live. She found him overwhelming. What a difference. He could keep fighting and never give up, even if he had no power at all. But Rolonia had kept running away, though at the very least she had talent as a Saint. Suddenly, Rolonia felt ashamed to be near him.
“Adlet,” she said, “if you can never get that power…if no matter how hard you try, it’s still no good…what would you do then?”
“…That’s a difficult problem,” Adlet said softly. “But, well, I don’t have to think about it. If you never give up until you die, you won’t have to worry about it.”
Oh…so I just have to think of it that way , Rolonia mentally replied, smiling.
I can’t go on like this , thought Rolonia. The cowardly person she was right now, the girl who always ran away, couldn’t be with Adlet. She had to change. She had to become stronger. Adlet would look down on her if she didn’t.
Rolonia loved Adlet, but he’d never give her the time of day. Becoming a better warrior was everything to him; he didn’t have the time for infatuations. Besides, Rolonia was stupid and ugly. She just wasn’t good enough for him.
But still, she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to devote herself to him. She wanted to see his smile. She wanted to be good enough. That was her heart’s desire.
Meanwhile, Atreau had assigned Adlet a challenge that began the day Rolonia arrived at the mountain. Adlet had one month to defeat Atreau by whatever means necessary. If he failed to accomplish that, he would be expelled and kicked off the mountain.
Even Rolonia, who was a total beginner when it came to combat, could understand how much stronger Atreau was. Adlet would never reach his level, no matter how much he strategized or how often he tried to catch his master by surprise.
On the final day of the challenge, Atreau walked into the lecture room in his hut as if that day were nothing special. An instant later, Adlet, hiding on a ceiling beam, attacked.
Atreau was not the least bit rattled. He thrust his javelin at Adlet, and the boy repelled it with his sword. Atreau kicked him down and sent him rolling to Rolonia’s feet.
“I’m sorry, Master Atreau!” Rolonia yelled a moment later. She touched her hand to the cloth inside her bag. Soaked with Rolonia’s blood, the fabric splayed out like a living thing and restrained Atreau.
“You’ve done it, Rolonia!” Adlet cried as he got up. He dodged a second thrust of Atreau’s javelin, seizing the weapon with his left hand while the sword in his right hand touched Atreau’s neck. “Using whatever means, right?” he said, smiling. Rolonia shivered, watching. Was this all right?
“You had to rack your brains for such a basic idea?” Atreau replied. He silently tossed his javelin aside, peeled off the cloth tangled around him, and left the lecture room.
It was hard to tell, but that did seem to mean Adlet had more or less passed. He flung aside his sword, leaped in the air, and gave Rolonia a hug. “I was so stupid. I never had to fight alone. Whatever means you use—even if you need help from a friend—if you can win, you’re the strongest in the world.” Then he retrieved his sword and ran back outside. “Thanks, Rolonia. I can’t rest on my laurels now. Training goes on!”
Left behind in the lecture room, Rolonia recalled Adlet’s embrace and blushed.
Time passed in the blink of an eye, and the day when Rolonia would leave the mountain drew near. The two had become so close, it made their initial meeting hard to believe. Rolonia stopped being so reserved around him and went from calling him Adlet to Addy.
Three days or so before they parted ways, they were in the rear of the dark cave when, suddenly, Adlet began sharing his past. Rolonia didn’t quite understand why he felt like talking about it, but she figured to him it was like a final testament. Training under Atreau meant walking alongside death. The slightest blunder could cost him his life. In his own way, Adlet must have wanted to leave behind some proof that he’d lived.
Little by little, he talked about the fiend that had appeared abruptly in his village, how the villagers had transformed overnight, as if they’d become completely different people, and how his friend and his sister had died protecting him.
“Oh…” Rolonia was speechless.
“Can you not tell anyone about this?” requested Adlet. “I mean, don’t even touch the topic.”
“Why not?”
“That fiend just waltzed into my village. It knew all about the village and everything. The damn thing has influence in the human realms.” Adlet’s teeth made a grinding sound. “I don’t want it to find out that I’m alive. If it realizes I’m planning revenge, it’ll come kill me. Right now…it’s frustrating, but I couldn’t stand up against it.”
“But…” This was surely a serious matter, something she should tell to Mora and Willone.
But Adlet shook his head. “I’m gonna be the one to kill it. I’ll take its life and make it regret destroying my village. I have to. So don’t tell anyone.” It was an irrational perspective—but it wasn’t really a problem that could be put to rights with reason.
As she promised, Rolonia told no one of what Adlet had related. She knew it was wrong, but she prioritized his wishes. “Addy,” she said, “once you’ve become a Brave, beat that lizard-fiend, and returned…what will you do then?”
Adlet hemmed and hawed a bit. “I don’t know. I’ll think about what comes after when the time arrives. I’m gonna be the strongest man in the world. I’ll be able to do anything.”
“What do you want to do?” Rolonia asked, and he mulled over it again. “Do you want to go back to your village and live your old life?”
Adlet shook his head. “The people from my village are long dead. They’re in the bellies of fiends.” He sounded both sad and angry.
“You don’t know that for sure. They might be alive.”
“I dunno,” he replied listlessly. “What would I even do if I met them? They killed Schetra and Rainer. I might kill them all the moment I saw their faces.” The look in his eyes then made her shudder, but it quickly turned sorrowful again. “But I’m sure I’d regret it afterward. I might regret it for the rest of my life.” His heart was wavering between nostalgic affection and hatred.
“I really don’t think you should kill them,” said Rolonia, making Adlet smile a little. “I doubt everything will go back to the way it was. And I think it will take time for you to forgive them. But someday, you’ll be able to live together in peace again.”
“If that did happen…that would be the best outcome,” Adlet said, implying that he doubted it.
“Addy…” To Rolonia, it would be unbearably heartbreaking to devote your whole life to attaining power, fighting and risking your life, only to be left with nothing but regret and sadness. She wanted Adlet to be happy. He had to be happy.
“I wonder if they’re alive?” he mused. “If they’re dead, I’ll be lonely. I’d be alone forever.”
“Addy…”
“I wanna see them again,” Adlet said. He buried his face in his knees and quietly began to cry.
Rolonia had never before even considered fighting the fiends. But now, for the first time, she couldn’t let the lizard-fiend’s crimes go unanswered.
And then she thought, if perhaps by some fluke, by some mistake, she were chosen as a Brave of the Six Flowers, she would save the people of his village. Her idea quickly turned into a conviction. She would rescue the people of his village. She got the feeling that she could become stronger, if it was for the sake of his happiness.
And so Rolonia left the mountain and returned to All Heavens Temple. Adlet didn’t go to see Rolonia off as she was leaving. He just noticed her while he was taking a quick break from practicing sword swings and gave her a big wave. He didn’t care for her as much as she did for him. Understanding that made Rolonia feel rather lonely.
Meeting Adlet had changed Rolonia—or at the very least, she thought so. She was still a failure, even after her stint on the mountain. She was still an insecure, slow-to-learn coward. People didn’t change overnight. But being a disappointment of a human being was no reason not to try. If she was a failure, then she should just keep forging ahead in her own way. If she got no results, she just had to suck it up and try again. Life was something you put up with until you died, so Rolonia made up her mind that she’d be moving on, facing forward, as she survived. If she were to give up like she always had and spend her whole life running away, she wouldn’t be worthy of Adlet’s friendship.
Rolonia had met many people and received many lessons since she’d first gained the powers of a Saint: there was her greatest teacher, Mora; and Willone, Saint of Salt; Torleau, Saint of Medicine; Tomaso, the legendary strategist; the old hero, Stradd; and the fiend specialist, Atreau. But far more important to her than what they’d taught her was what she’d learned from Adlet—though he probably hadn’t meant to teach her anything.
What she really wanted to do was stay with him forever and continue to support him. She wanted to chat with him more. She wanted to heal his wounds and touch him. But he probably wouldn’t be glad for any of that.
She might not ever see him again. But that was okay. He’d done so many important things for her. That alone made her happy enough.
?
The Dead Host defeated, their environs had fallen quiet. It looked as though they’d handled all of the Dead Host stationed there for the trap.
Adlet helped Rolonia up. Fortunately, her wounds weren’t serious. He then yanked his sword blade out of the head of the corpse he’d shot and shoved it back into its sheath.
Touching its body, Rolonia said, “There’s no leech fiend… It was…a lie…” She hung her head. “Why? She was human.”
Adlet discovered a body on the top of the ridge. The old woman who had deceived Rolonia had fallen there. When Adlet approached it to check, he found she was already dead. The Dead Host had killed her.
Adlet didn’t know why she’d helped them set a trap for the Six Braves. From what he could see, it didn’t seem her family had been taken hostage. Had they told her that her life would be spared even after they destroyed the world? Or had they told her that they could postpone her death with the powers of fiends?
It didn’t matter. Adlet turned back to Hans. “I’m impressed you knew Rolonia was here, Hans,” he said, staring as he spoke. The costume really was amazing.
His skin and hair were covered in dust. He’d rubbed rotten meat on parts of his body to discolor his skin. He must have gotten the clothes off some corpse. He’d tied a dead parasite onto the back of his neck with string—the string that he’d taken from Adlet’s iron box. He’d been planning all along to disguise himself as one of them.
“Meow-hee-hee, I had a feelin’ somethin’ like this might happen.”
That’s not a reply , thought Adlet.
“Thank…you…Hans,” said Rolonia.
Shrugging, Hans said, “They really got you easy. Meow , I figgered you was dumb, but you’re really dumb.”
“Erk…”
Adlet looked at her. He just couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her. She’d done it out of consideration for him. She’d been unable to watch him suffer.
“Ya think y’all can kill specialist neowmber nine, Adlet?” asked Hans.
“We’re chasing it down, but I think it’ll take some more time. I’m worried about Chamo. Let’s head back,” said Adlet, and he took Rolonia and started running.
That was when, suddenly, something felt off to him. What had that cloth fluttering in the air been? “Hans, did you toss up any cloth?” he asked.
“What’re ya talkin’ ameowt?” Hans replied.
Apparently, Rolonia didn’t know anything about that, either. So who had thrown that rag? Had it just happened to rip off and fly up for some reason? Was that even possible? It was such a trivial thing, but somehow it bothered him.
“Addy, Hans.” Rolonia, who’d been following behind them, stopped. She seemed to have something on her mind and appealed to them with a grave expression. “I’ve done nothing but cause trouble…and I’m sorry to bring up something like this…but please listen… There’s one more thing.”
“What is it?” asked Hans.
“There’s something I want you to see.” Rolonia went off to search for something. She found a fallen corpse and raised up its left arm.
Adlet and Hans read the message there. Search and save. Man with words on right arm. Tgurneu’s weapon.
“Some of the Dead Host have these messages on them.”
“Uh-huh, Rolonia. So yer sayin’ one of the Dead Host is alive, and they kneow about Tgurneu’s secret weapon?” Hans smiled, but a hint of anger burned in his eyes. “You got amnesia or what? Didja already ferget about gettin’ tricked and nearly dyin’?”
“This is… This is different!”
Adlet stared at the message. He recalled what had happened before—the place where the cloth had been tossed in the air, the scratches in that tree nearby that could have been letters. He got the feeling those letters and the words on this corpse’s arm were similar.
“The woman who tricked me didn’t know about this,” said Rolonia. “She didn’t know about the messages on the Dead Host or about Tgurneu’s weapon.”
“…Hrmeow? What do ya mean?”
“They’re different. The one who left these messages here and the people who tried to trick me are different. Tgurneu did deceive me. But there’s someone else who wrote these messages.”
“Rolonia…there’s no way—” Hans began.
“Someone in the Dead Host is alive, and they know about Tgurneu’s secret weapon!” Rolonia insisted.
“Impossible. There’s just neow way—” Hans was about to argue, but Adlet stopped him. Hans gave Adlet a surprised look.
“I think she’s right. I saw it, too. Rolonia’s not lying!” Adlet yelled out as he set off at a run. “One of the Dead Host is alive! A corpse with a message on its right arm!”
But at that time, Rainer was lying on the damp earth of the forest, faceup toward the heavens. He was gazing at the blue sky through the gaps in the tree canopy.
His body would no longer move. The parasite had given up on controlling him.
It’s over , he thought. The image of the old woman who had told him about the Black Barrenbloom rose in his mind. I’m sorry, ma’am. It was no use. I tried as hard as I could, in my own way. But it was no use.
A few of the strange fiends and dozens of the Dead Host were fighting around him. The howls of the mysterious creatures and the shrieks of his fellows sounded far away to him now. His left arm had come free again, but he didn’t even try to move it now.
He recalled Adlet’s face. In his mind, he called out to his friend, wherever he was. I never became a Brave, Adlet. I was just an insignificant man.
He was now immobile. Both his legs had been torn off, and the only evidence that he was alive, the message on his right arm, was lost.
Rainer’s right arm had been ripped off at the shoulder.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login