“I don’t know.”
“What a pain in the ass.”
“Adlet, I think it would be best for you to stay here,” she said. “It will be dangerous no matter where you go, but here, you will be heavily guarded.”
“That’s true. Then I’ll stay put until I’m all healed up.”
As she looked out the window restlessly, it seemed the girl had finished delivering her warning. “I’m sorry. If I don’t go now, they’ll be angry with me. Well, they will be angry regardless, but it will be even worse if I stay any longer.”
“I don’t mind. Go on.”
The maiden bobbed her head and was about to leave when Adlet stopped her. “If you do meet the princess, tell her…” He paused. “She’s sure to be chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. Tell her I’m looking forward to the day we fight together.”
“…Huh?” The girl’s mouth hung open. And then, for some reason, she giggled.
“What?”
“No, sorry. I’ll tell her. If I get the chance to see her.” She walked to the door, turning back for a moment to stick out her tongue. “Adlet, you’re quite the fool, aren’t you?”
Adlet wanted to ask what the girl was talking about, but she was already gone. He wondered what that might have been about, but having no clue, he decided to forget it. He lay down on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about this killer who was after the Braves.
“A Brave-killer, huh? Once I’m chosen, I guess I’ll end up fighting whoever that is, too.” The cheerful, happy-go-lucky expression disappeared from his face. Now, a quiet anger lurked in his eyes.
Just as his guest had predicted, for Adlet’s sentence, they settled on an indefinite imprisonment. Well, that’s that , he thought, not bothering to object. Alone in his jail cell, the warrior waited for his wounds to heal.
A few days later, Adlet discovered a gift in his cell—a sword small enough to hide in his bed. He figured this meant that when the time came, he should use it to protect himself. He didn’t know if the girl had arranged it or if he had some other fan.
A month passed, then two. He continued training in his cell so as not to get out of shape. This Brave-killer he’d heard about didn’t turn up.
After three months, his wounds were completely healed. Right around the time Adlet was starting to consider breaking out, something strange happened. One night, the fierce pounding of his heart woke him. His entire body felt hot, and his chest seethed with indescribable excitement. The feeling passed after about ten seconds, and then a faintly glowing crest appeared on Adlet’s right hand. The Evil God had awakened, and Adlet had been chosen to be one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.
“Huh,” Adlet muttered, looking at the crest. “That was surprisingly simple.” He had imagined that his entire body would be enveloped in light or that the Spirit of Fate would appear and order him to defeat the Evil God or something. Feeling a little underwhelmed, Adlet stared at his hand. After a moment, he realized this wasn’t the time. “Hey! Somebody come over here!” Adlet banged on the iron bars of his cell as he called the guards. Once they knew he had been selected as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, they couldn’t keep him locked up. But if the guards didn’t come, he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Isn’t anyone there? I was chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers!”
The interior of his cell was strangely silent. He couldn’t detect the presence of any guards at all. Oh, well , he thought, I guess I’ll bust out , and that was when a sudden commotion sounded from the foot of the stairs.
“Why have you come to a place like this? What on earth are you here for?!”
“Batoal! I’m in a hurry! Please, don’t get in my way!”
Both voices were familiar. One of them belonged to the girl who smelled of apples. Adlet figured the other one was the old knight he’d fought in the coliseum. He could also hear the thumping of many footsteps coming from behind the two.
“Adlet! Were you chosen?” the girl cried, running up to Adlet’s cell. She wasn’t wearing the maid uniform from before. She was clad in magnificent white armor, a slim sword belted at her waist. On her head, she wore a helmet in the shape of rabbit’s ears. Adlet had heard somewhere that wearing helmets with animal motifs was a tradition of Piena’s royal family.
The moment he saw her, Adlet understood who she really was and also what a fool he’d been. Most people would’ve figured that out , he thought with a wry smile.
Standing before the cell, the girl said, “It’s been quite some time since we last saw each other. Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Nashetania Rouie Piena Augustra, the crown princess of Piena and the current Saint of Blades.”
The apple-scented girl—Nashetania—lifted up her breastplate and showed him the Crest of the Six Flowers near her collarbone. “I have now been selected as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Adlet Mayer, the strongest man in the world. Pleased to meet you, too.” Adlet showed her the crest on his right hand.
“Princess! What are you doing?! You don’t have the time to be talking to someone like him!” The old knight ran up to the two of them, but then Adlet showed him, too, the Crest of the Six Flowers on his right hand. The knight’s eyes widened, and he fell silent.
“We must go now. Our time is limited.” Nashetania unlocked the door of Adlet’s cell, and he stepped out. Ignoring the old knight’s cries as he tried to stop them, the pair broke into a run.
“Did you get us horses?” asked Adlet.
“They’re over this way!”
The two of them leaped out a window and landed on the grass. There, a woman who looked to be Nashetania’s maid was awkwardly leading two horses toward them.
“You’re all prepared, huh?” Adlet observed.
“Yes,” replied Nashetania. “Let us be off!”
Together, they straddled their horses and set off at a gallop. The old knight and the soldiers shouted after them, clamoring about a departure ceremony, an audience with the king, and other trivial matters. Looking at Nashetania’s profile as she rode beside him, Adlet smiled. It looked like he was going to get along with this girl. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing, as she turned to him and grinned.
One thousand years ago, a woman known as the Saint of the Single Flower defeated the Evil God and sealed it away on the westernmost edge of the continent, a land called the Balca Peninsula. Presently, the area fell under the territory of the Land of Iron Mountains, Gwenvaella. The peninsula was shaped sort of like a flask, with the narrow end attached to the continent. The plan was for the Braves of the Six Flowers to gather at the base of that peninsula. Every warrior who demonstrated his or her power before the Spirit of Fate at a temple surely knew that. No matter from where in the world each of the six Braves hailed, if they waited at that point, they would inevitably meet the others.
After the Evil God awakened, it would take a while for the creature to regain its full strength. Before the Evil God’s powers were replenished, the six Braves would have to make it to the very tip of the Balca Peninsula to seal the beast away once more. It would take the Evil God at least thirty days from the time of its awakening to reach its peak strength. Though that seemed like more than enough time, in actuality, it was not. Over ten thousand fiends lay in wait on that peninsula for the Braves of the Six Flowers. Only six warriors would step into that realm. It was bound to be a long and difficult battle. During the past two conflicts, over half of the six Braves had sacrificed their lives. But those who feared death would not be chosen to begin with.
The Balca Peninsula was rarely called by its formal name. This expansive swath of earth, eagerly awaiting the revival of the Evil God, resounded with the wailing of fiends. That was why the place was called the Howling Vilelands.
After leaving the royal capital of Piena, the two Braves first stopped by Adlet’s hideout. There, the eager warrior equipped himself. He stuffed a variety of secret tools into the pouches a
t his waist and packed explosives, poisons, and concealable weapons into the large iron box that he carried on his back. This vast array of instruments would be invaluable in defeating the Evil God. Without them, Adlet would have been unable to declare himself the strongest man in the world. The iron box was sturdy and heavy. A regular person would become short of breath just bearing it on their back. But for Adlet, it was no great burden.
After that, the companions galloped for a whole day out of the Land of Bountiful Fields, Piena. Now, they were in the Land of Golden Fruit, Fandaen.
“They won’t chase us any farther, will they?”
“I’m sure they’ve given up by now, Nashetania.” Looking over their shoulders, they were of course referencing the crowd from the royal palace in Piena that had been chasing after Nashetania. “Don’t you think that was a little cold of you, though? They’re your vassals, aren’t they?”
“They are, but dealing with them is still trying.”
Adlet was purposely not addressing his partner as a princess. It was his intention to treat her entirely like a comrade on equal footing, and Nashetania seemed fine with that.
As they proceeded down the road, the two of them slowed their pace a bit in order to give their exhausted horses a break. Orchards surrounded them as far as the eye could see. The Land of Golden Fruit, as indicated by its name, was a country that grew delicious fruit.
“It’s so pretty,” remarked Nashetania. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen so many cultivated fruit trees.”
“Really?” said Adlet.
She seemed to be enjoying herself as she took in the scenery. Adlet thought the trees were nothing special, but he supposed it must have been an unusual sight for her. A horse cart stacked with lemons passed by them, heading in the opposite direction.
“Pardon me,” called out Nashetania. “May I have one?”
What’re you doing? Adlet wondered.
Without even waiting for the coachman to reply, Nashetania grabbed a lemon. She crushed it in her hand and drank the juice with relish. “That was delicious!” She wiped her mouth and tossed the squeezed remains of the lemon into the cart. It seemed this princess was a little strange—though this was not news to Adlet. “It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?” she commented, licking the juice off her hand. “I thought the Evil God’s awakening would be so much more serious.”
“This is how it is. The last time the Evil God awoke, and the time before that, the world was at peace. You only see disturbances once you’re close to the Howling Vilelands,” said Adlet. “It only stops being peaceful if we lose.”
“Indeed. Let’s do our best.”
Next, it was a cart stacked with carrots that came down the road toward them. Nashetania hopped off her horse again and took one without asking. There’s no way she’s gonna eat it raw , thought Adlet, but in fact, she did. Nashetania summoned a narrow blade out of thin air. The blade moved too fast for the eye to catch, cleanly peeling the carrot in only moments.
“Is that the power of the Spirit of Blades?” asked Adlet.
“That it is. Fantastic, right? Since I’m a Saint.” Nashetania puffed out her chest as she chomped on the carrot. “And I can do this, too,” she said, raising her index finger. A blade sprouted from the ground, one over five meters in length. It was slender and frighteningly sharp. If it pierced either human or fiend, its victim would be done for. “And even this.” She directed her index finger toward Adlet, summoning blades about thirty centimeters long around the digit. One after another, they shot at Adlet’s face.
“What’re you doing?! You idiot!”
“This is easy enough for you to dodge, isn’t it?” Nashetania cackled as she continued peppering him with projectiles.
Though he dodged them easily, he was privately amazed by the power of the Saint of Blades.
Saint was a general term for warriors who controlled supernatural powers. There were fewer than eighty of them in the world, and all of them were, without exception, women. They said that within the body of each Saint resided a Spirit that governed the providence of all things. By borrowing the abilities of the Spirit within, a Saint could wield powers beyond human capacity. Among the many Spirits, the one that inhabited Nashetania’s body was the Spirit of Blades. Each Spirit had only one Saint. No one else besides Nashetania could currently utilize the power of the Spirit of Blades. If she were to die or relinquish her power, someone else would be chosen as the Saint of Blades. In addition to Nashetania and her power of blades, there were also the Saint of Fire, the Saint of Ice, the Saint of Mountains, and others with a variety of powers. A few of these people were bound to be chosen as Braves of the Six Flowers. The Saint of the Single Flower, the one who had defeated the Evil God in the past, had hosted the Spirit of Fate.
“Cut that out!” Adlet grabbed one of the projectiles and threw it back at Nashetania. It hit her helmet and fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“No kidding.”
“Are you angry?”
“I am angry. Absolutely furious,” he said, and Nashetania suddenly wilted. With a sad look on her face, she bit into her raw carrot. I’m not that mad , Adlet thought, now regretting what he’d said.
“I apologize.” Sounding depressed and completely different from before, Nashetania said, “I’m a bit strange. I’m always making my father and the maids cross with me.”
“Hey, I’m not that mad.”
“Maybe I’ll just be an annoyance no matter where I go.”
She’s kind of hard to categorize , thought Adlet. She had dressed up in a maid’s uniform and visited him at the jail, fooled around on the road here, but then immediately gotten upset just because he was a little angry at her. It was uncomfortable. How should he deal with this? Grasping his horse’s reins, Adlet looked down. Still unable to come up with something to say, he rode along with her in silence. I’m the strongest man in the world, so why am I worrying over something so trivial? Adlet wondered, and he was about to say something to Nashetania when he noticed her glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
“Did you seriously think I was upset?” she asked.
“…Hey.”
Nashetania put a hand to her mouth, a teasing smile on her face. He’d forgotten…she really loved mischief.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! You really are fun, Adlet.”
“Damn it. My concern was wasted on you.”
“I wouldn’t get upset over something like that. Relax.”
Adlet looked away and slapped his horse’s rear, galloping away to leave Nashetania behind.
“Please don’t be angry!” she pleaded. “I just got carried away.”
“No kidding.”
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m usually more restrained. This is just so nice, I cannot help but enjoy myself a little.”
“We’re heading out to go fight the Evil God right now. Do you get that?”
“I do. It’s just for now. I apologize.” Nashetania bowed her head, smiling. “This is a first for me. I know there will be fighting, but still, I can’t help myself.”
“A first? A first what?” he asked.
“First time being with someone like you.” Nashetania’s expression changed. Her smile turned from puckish to something kind and affectionate. She had a number of different smiles. Adlet suddenly felt shy.
“Being able to speak as equals like this, to talk honestly about what I think and feel—you’re the first person I’ve been able to do that with,” she confided.
Adlet went beyond shy to outright embarrassed. He glanced at Nashetania from the corner of his eye. Maybe she’s just amusing herself by embarrassing me , he considered, but that did not appear to be the case.
“Oh, look—a wagon. I’ll go get myself another carrot.” Maybe she realized he was feeling self-conscious, or maybe she didn’t, but regardless, Nashetania began chomping on another raw carrot. Adlet’s shoulders slumped as he watched her.
Following that, Nashe
tania continued to act as she pleased. Before long, the sun set, and night arrived. The two of them tied their horses by the side of the road and began setting up camp. Adlet wondered if Nashetania would be able to handle sleeping outdoors, having been raised in a palace, but she said she had done it many times, so she’d have no problems. Once Adlet was done laying out his bedding, he scanned the area, checking to see if there were any blind spots or cover where an enemy might hide. It was always best to be ready for a surprise attack.
“What’s wrong?” Nashetania asked him. Her eyelids were drooping, and she looked quite sleepy and carefree indeed.
“Hey, before we go to sleep, I’d like to ask you something,” said Adlet. “What happened with that killer who’s after the Braves?”
“Oh yes, I haven’t told you about that yet, have I?” Nashetania’s expression grew grim. It seemed the news was not good. “I didn’t tell you before, but in fact, six months ago, Goldof left on a journey in search of the Brave-killer.”
“Goldof…that’s a knight of yours, right?” Adlet knew the name. Goldof Auora: captain of the Black Horns knights. A prodigious young fighter and the pride of Piena’s royal army. He was the strongest knight in Piena, purported to rival Nashetania in strength.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t heard anything heartening. The last communication I had from him was a month and a half ago, and all he said was that he had no leads.”
“The killer might’ve taken him out.”
“I think not!” Unusually for her, Nashetania’s voice rose. “Goldof is strong. I’ve never beaten him.”
“What about that tournament last year?” he asked. Nashetania had been the victor of the Tournament Before the Divine the previous year. Adlet had heard that she had faced Goldof in the finals, and at the end of a desperate struggle, she had defeated him.
“At the very end, he went easy on me. But there’s no helping that…because of my position. But I’ve never been so frustrated in my life. That’s why I made him promise me—he’s not allowed to die until I can defeat him in a rematch. That’s why Goldof can’t die. He wouldn’t.” Nashetania deliberated for a bit. “…I think.”
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 3