Those words brought Adlet to his senses. Panicking, he raised both hands, showing her he wasn’t hostile. “Wait, don’t shoot. I’m Adlet Mayer. I’m one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, just like you.” When he displayed the symbol on the back of his hand to the girl, she eyed him suspiciously.
“I’ve heard of you. You’re the cowardly warrior from the martial tournament in Piena. They say you’re a genuine sleazebag.”
Adlet was flustered. “W-wait. Who said that? I’m the strongest man in the world. I am absolutely not a ‘cowardly warrior,’” Adlet stammered, attempting to calm his pounding heart.
“You’re one of the Braves of the Six Flowers? There’s no way I’d believe that,” she scoffed.
He could sense no kindness or transient fragility in the way she leveled the muzzle of her gun at him. The girl who stood there was a cold, cautious, natural-born warrior. Her attitude immediately dispersed Adlet’s confusion. “The rumors are wrong,” he said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to win, but I’m not a coward.”
“…”
“I’m Adlet, the strongest man in the world. A coward wouldn’t be capable of calling himself the strongest in the world. So don’t point your gun at me,” he said confidently.
But the girl’s expression only showed disgust, and she gave no indication that she would lower her weapon. “Where are your allies?”
“Nashetania is nearby. You know her, don’t you? She’s the princess of Piena and the Saint of Blades.”
“Nashetania…I see. So she was chosen as well.” She still made no move to lower her weapon—though she should have known that Adlet wasn’t her enemy. She stared at him with jaded eyes. At the very least, it wasn’t how most people would regard a future comrade-in-arms. “Tell Nashetania and the others you are about to meet…”
“…Tell them what?”
“My name is Fremy Speeddraw. Saint of Gunpowder.”
The Saint of Gunpowder. Adlet hadn’t heard the title before. It was said that the Spirits dwelled in all things, governing over the providence of all existence. But he had never heard of a Spirit or Saint of Gunpowder. What bothered him more than that, though… Why should there be any need for him to tell the others?
“I will not be accompanying you,” she explained. “I will be fighting the Evil God on my own. I won’t interfere with your business, so don’t get involved with mine.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Adlet.
“Is there something wrong with your hearing? I’m saying that I’ll be operating separately from your group. Do not get involved with me in the future.”
Adlet was dumbfounded. Wasn’t working together what made them the Braves of the Six Flowers? What could one warrior hope to accomplish alone?
“Tell them exactly that. You can manage a basic errand, can’t you?” Fremy asked, lowering her gun, then turning and sprinting off. She was quite fast.
“Hey, wait!” Of course, mere words had no effect. Fremy disappeared in a blink. “Damn it!” Adlet scanned the area. His horse was approaching. He drew his knife from the scabbard on his chest and carved into the horse’s saddle: Nashetania. Met another Brave. I’m following her. Don’t worry about me—head for our goal. Then he turned the horse around toward the village entrance and sent it galloping back. “Wait! Where’d you go, Fremy?!” he shouted, but there was no reply. Adlet dashed into the trees.
Running in the forest always left traces—broken twigs, footprints on leaves. If Adlet followed those, pursuing Fremy shouldn’t prove too difficult. Adlet climbed the mountain and descended the other side, running all the while. At various points, Fremy’s footprints suddenly cut off, as if she was erasing evidence of her passage. Someone used to fleeing would run that way.
“What is up with her?” Adlet muttered as he searched the area with his telescope. When he detected the faint moving shape of a person, he ran off in that direction.
He considered giving up on tracking her and going back the way he had come. He was worried about leaving Nashetania behind. But Adlet kept on chasing Fremy. His intuition as a warrior instructed him. Something whispered deep in his heart, telling him he had to follow. He couldn’t just leave her alone.
He caught sight of her back as she ran through the forest. Apparently, Adlet was gaining ground. At this rate, he could overtake her. He chased her for about another hour, then finally circled around to cut her off. “Just cut this out,” he said.
“I can’t believe you caught up to me,” said Fremy. The two glared at each other, panting. She drew her gun and pointed it at Adlet. “I told you what you needed to know. Don’t follow me anymore.”
“What did you say?”
“If you keep following me, I’ll shoot.”
Simmering anger welled up from the pit of Adlet’s stomach. After saying all that crap about him, now she was going to shoot him? “Stop screwing with me! You’re being stupid. What are you thinking? You can’t defeat the Evil God all on your own!”
“You’re in the way. Move.”
“And there are fiends, too. All six of us have to work together, or we’re done. Are you too stupid to understand that?”
“I can fight alone. I can win alone. If you want proof, I can show you.”
“Oh yeah? Just what do you plan on showing Adlet, the strongest man in the world?”
Fremy’s fingertip touched the trigger. Adlet threw the iron box off his back and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He couldn’t back down now. The two of them squared off for a while. Neither would initiate a fight now, not even Fremy. It was a test of wills until one stepped aside.
“At the very least, tell me why,” said Adlet. “Tell the Braves why you’re going it alone.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Fremy fell silent.
“Say something,” he insisted. She didn’t respond.
“Just so you know, I’m a stubborn guy,” Adlet continued. “I’ll follow you until I get an answer. And then once I do, I’ll follow you until you tell me to go away. The strongest man in the world is the least likely to know when to give up.”
“You’re a character. ‘Strongest man in the world’—yeah, right,” she said.
“Why are you going alone? Why won’t you meet up with the other Braves? You’re stuck here until you tell me.”
Fremy ground her teeth. Her finger trembled on the trigger. Then she lowered her eyes and whispered, “If I meet them, they will most certainly kill me.”
Adlet was stunned. What she was saying was unbelievable, but she was serious. “That’s ridiculous. We’re all Braves of the Six Flowers. Why would we kill an important ally?”
“They won’t consider me ‘an important ally.’”
“Why not?”
Fremy’s visible eye abruptly went cold—and it was nothing like her earlier glaring. She had the look of someone ready to fire. “If I tell you, you’ll try to kill me, too.”
Adlet weighed the situation. If he pressed her any harder, they’d end up trying to kill each other.
“You can hear why, and then we can try to end each other, or you can not hear why, and we can do the same. Pick one,” she said.
“…”
“Or you can say nothing and withdraw.”
Adlet returned his sword to its sheath and picked up his iron chest from the ground.
Fremy lowered her gun, looking relieved. “I will fight the Evil God by myself. You do as you please. If possible, I would like to avoid seeing you again.” Fremy stashed her gun beneath her cloak and turned her back to him.
Adlet agonized. Was it okay to let her go like this? He decided it wasn’t, based on nothing but instinct, and made a fierce leap at the renegade Brave. The moment she turned toward him, he threw a smoke bomb. Under cover of the smoke, he wrenched away her pack.
“What are you doing?!” she demanded.
“You told me to do as I please, so I did.”
“Give me back my things.” Fremy drew
her gun once more.
Adlet clasped the pack he’d snatched from her against his chest. It most likely carried bullets and tools for gun maintenance. It looked like she also had travel rations and a map.
“Is this some kind of joke? Or are you an idiot?” she asked.
“I’m not an idiot, and I’m not fooling around. I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna follow you.”
“What?”
“Now that that’s decided, let’s get going.” Adlet gave the frozen Fremy a backward glance and started walking.
“Who said you could decide anything? Give me back my pack.” Fremy’s expression shifted from confusion to anger. Her finger moved to the trigger of her gun.
“Whoa, there,” said Adlet. “If you attack me, I’ll run away—with all your stuff. Then you’ll be the one in trouble.”
“Do you want to get shot?”
“Or are you gonna steal it back and then run away? You should have figured out by now that you can’t outrun me, though.”
“What the hell are you thinking?” Fremy demanded.
Adlet pondered for a moment, and then spoke slowly, warning Fremy, “I don’t know everything that’s going on with you, but it looks like you’re in some kind of trouble. You’re heading off all by yourself to the Howling Vilelands, where the Evil God and its fiends are waiting, and you say that if you run into the other Braves, they’ll kill you. I think most people would define that as being in trouble.”
“So?”
“I’m not the kind of guy who can just abandon one of my own when they need me. The strongest man in the world is kind. So I’ve decided to help you out.”
“Are you kidding me? If this is some kind of joke, you can knock it off.”
“No complaints. Let’s get going.” Ignoring Fremy where she stood with her gun trained on him, Adlet began walking again.
“I can’t believe it. What? What the hell? What is up with you?” Fremy seemed at her wits’ end, but ultimately, she followed him. The two strolled through the forest in silence.
I’ve been acting on impulse here, just taking things as they come , thought Adlet. Is this really a good idea? He had abandoned Nashetania, and he would never know when Fremy might seriously try to kill him. He glanced back at her. The expression on her face was more than confused—she looked scared. Well, whatever. It’ll work out somehow. “Hey, Fremy.” He turned to her as she trudged behind him. “I don’t know your situation, but right now, I’m serious about protecting you. You’re one of the only five allies I’ve got.”
“Shut up and walk. This is uncomfortable,” Fremy spat, averting her gaze.
Meanwhile, Nashetania was battling fiends in the village where Adlet had met Fremy.
“…Hungry…want…meat…drink…blood!”
Her opponent was what looked like a gigantic wolf. The fact that it could speak human language, however imperfectly, was proof that it was particularly powerful. A small trickle of blood oozed from Nashetania’s cheek. The fiend lifted its front leg, attempting to crush her. A blade shot up from the ground, intercepting its body. “Hungry…hungry!” Though impaled, the fiend still writhed.
Nashetania swiped away the blood on her cheek using her slim sword. She then lengthened the blade, thrusting its tip into the fiend’s mouth.
The demon squirmed in agony, vomiting. “Can’t…eat Saint’s blood… Can’t have Saint’s blood!” Fiends ate people, but the bodies of Saints like Nashetania were deadly poison to them.
“This was frightening at first,” Nashetania muttered, summoning blades from thin air to chop up the beast. “But I’ve gotten quite used to fighting fiends now.” She divided her victim into three, four parts, and then finally, it stopped moving.
Once the fight was over, Nashetania surveyed the area. It was deathly still—she saw no fiends and no Adlet. Disappointed, Nashetania picked up a saddle that had fallen on the ground and read the words carved into it.
Nashetania. Met another Brave. I’m following her. Don’t worry about me and head for our goal.
“What’s going on?” Nashetania cocked her head. “If he’s following her, does that mean that she’s running away from him? Why would she run away? Just who is this other Brave?” She murmured to herself as she scanned the village once more to see if Adlet had left anything else behind.
That was when a black horse galloped into the village bearing a man of large build clad in black armor.
When she saw him, Nashetania cried out, “Goldof!”
The man—Goldof—dismounted at Nashetania’s side and put one knee to the ground before removing his helmet and bowing his head. “Your Highness. I apologize for my belatedness. I have hastened to your side.”
Goldof Auora. He was said to be the strongest of the knights of Piena. His face was permanently severe, and most would never guess he was younger than Nashetania. His black armor was heavy and durable, and his helmet was designed to resemble the curled horns of a goat. He carried a large iron spear in his right hand, connected to his wrist by a sturdy chain. His imposing appearance suggested he was a veteran of many battles, but something in his expression bespoke a lingering immaturity.
“So you did come after all. I knew you’d be chosen.” Nashetania greeted him kindly.
“It is an honor.”
“I’m grateful the Spirit of Fate chose you. I have nothing to be afraid of with you by my side.” Nashetania spoke with dignity, but there was something awkward about her tone. It lacked the casual ease with which she’d chatted with Adlet.
“I will protect you with my life, Your Highness,” pledged Goldof. “It is my intention to slay the Evil God and escort you safely back to the king.”
That statement elicited a bit of a frown. “Goldof.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“From now on, we are equals. Comrades-in-arms. You won’t simply be protecting me; we will protect each other.”
“But Your Highness…,” he protested. “You are a distinguished individual. I cannot allow the worst to happen to you.”
“…I see. I understand. Fine.” Nashetania gave him a small nod. “In any case, we have a problem. A fellow Brave who was with me until just a while ago disappeared somewhere.” Nashetania showed him the saddle.
Goldof read the text and tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.”
“Who was this companion of yours who wrote it?” he asked.
“Adlet Mayer. You know him, don’t you?”
When Goldof heard that name, his expression changed. He must also have heard what had happened during the holy tournament.
“Don’t give me that look,” said Nashetania. “He’s a reliable man.”
“Even though he abandoned you to go who knows where?” Goldof’s eyes were sharp, as if he was wary of the absent Adlet.
“That’s why we’re going to look for him now. I wonder which way he went,” she mulled.
Goldof reexamined the writing on the saddle. His expression said he was not only thinking about where Adlet had gone but considering the matter further. “He must have started toward the Howling Vilelands already. If we continue on, I believe we will encounter him.”
“Perhaps that’s our only option, but I am worried. I hope he’s all right,” said Nashetania. Goldof did not reply, simply offering up the horse upon which he had arrived. Nashetania refused, saddling and mounting the horse Adlet had been riding. As they galloped down the road out of town, she said, “Goldof. Adlet is a good person. He’s quite odd, and I’m sure you’ll find him confusing at first, but I think once you talk together a bit, you can be friends.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“It’s a big world out here. I think it’s a good thing I came out on this journey. I never would have met as curious a person as Adlet if I had stayed at the palace.”
“Is that so?”
“And also…he’s so much fun to tease,” added Nashetania, sticking out her tongue with a grin.
; But Goldof seemed to have mixed feelings. He angled his face downward so as to hide his expression. “Pardon me, Princess, but…”
“What is it?”
“About this Adlet, do you, um…” He started saying something, then faltered. Still looking down, he fell into a long silence.
“What’s wrong? I don’t really know what you’re implying. Perhaps you have changed, too, during the time we’ve been apart.”
“Perhaps that is so. I apologize. Please forget about it,” he said.
Nashetania cocked her head, then clapped her hands together and cried, “Oh yes. What about that killer who’s been going after Braves? Have you found any leads?”
Goldof shook his head as he rode. “I am ashamed to say that, as of yet, I have failed to dispose of the killer. But I do know her name, appearance, and abilities.”
“So you do have a lead. And this information is trustworthy?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I obtained this report from someone I believe to be trustworthy who personally fought the killer,” he said.
“So who is this assassin?” asked Nashetania.
Goldof’s voice grew tense. “The Saint of Gunpowder—a silver-haired girl who wields a gun. Her name is Fremy.”
Chapter 2
The Six Braves Convene
Adlet and Fremy advanced toward the Howling Vilelands. They walked in silence along a mountain path, where all that grew was grass that cropped up sparsely between the rocks and pebbles. According to the map, once they crossed over two more mountains, they would finally be able to see their destination. It had been six hours since they first met, and the sun was high.
“It’s kinda hot, huh?” Adlet remarked to Fremy, who walked ahead of him.
She didn’t reply.
“I wonder if it’s supposed to be especially hot around here. Do you know anything about it, Fremy?”
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 5