Unsurprisingly, no response.
“I’ve never heard of the Saint of Gunpowder. What kind of stuff can you do?”
“…”
“Well, since you’re the Saint of Gunpowder, do you have any explosives? I’d be grateful if you could share some with me.”
“…”
“I didn’t know there was a gun that could kill fiends. Who made it?”
Adlet made numerous attempts to talk to her in an effort to improve relations between them, even just a little bit. But each time, all he got in return was stonelike silence. He was beginning to feel annoyed. His initial impression of her lonely and ephemeral air was entirely gone. All he could see was a selfish, rude, incomprehensible woman. “Say something. Just what the hell do you take me for?”
“A brazen, thoughtless, unmanageable idiot.”
“Oh , so you’ll answer that question, huh?!” Adlet lost all desire to talk to her. He decided to walk mutely.
He wondered what Nashetania was up to. He hoped she was also heading toward the Howling Vilelands. If she was looking for him, she would be late joining the rest of the group. He was also worried about having left her alone.
“If you’re worried about Nashetania, why don’t you go back?” suggested Fremy, as if she had read his mind.
“Nah, I’m not worried about her. At least, not as much as I am about you.”
“Hmph ,” Fremy snorted bitterly. “I didn’t think Nashetania would be chosen. Between you and her, the Braves don’t look all that promising this time around.”
“You’re wrong,” said Adlet. “Nashetania is immature and inexperienced, but she’s a fine warrior.”
“You’re sure arrogant enough—you calling her immature and inexperienced.”
“I’m the strongest man in the world. From my point of view, everyone else is inexperienced.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she spat, and they both went silent again.
They crossed over one mountain, and once they finished scaling the next, the Howling Vilelands would be within view. As they approached the summit, suddenly Fremy said, “Can I ask you something?” Adlet was surprised to hear her speak out of the blue. “I have a request,” she continued.
“What is it?”
“Eventually, we’ll end up trying to kill each other. No matter what you may think now, it will happen.”
“No, it won’t,” Adlet insisted.
But Fremy shook her head. “Please. When the time comes, go easy on me. Even if you end up taking me down, don’t finish me off.”
“What kind of request is that? I’d rather hear you ask to fight together.”
“I figured you would be willing to listen to a small request like this one.”
“…”
“I can’t afford to die. Not until I defeat the Evil God with my own two hands.” That was all Fremy said before she stopped talking. Adlet couldn’t say anything else after that, either.
I can’t afford to die. She had uttered those words determinedly. But behind them, Adlet had also sensed indescribable sadness. He thought of Nashetania. Being with her cheered him up—but being with Fremy was emotionally painful, like something was pressing on his chest.
“That’s the Howling Vilelands,” said Adlet.
The two of them arrived at the summit of the mountain; before them lay a sprawling landscape. Woodlands extended from the foot of the mountain to the sea, and a thin, twisting road pierced through the center of the forest. Beyond it lay the black sea. Projecting out into the sea was the Balca Peninsula, otherwise known as the Howling Vilelands, the territory where the fiends and the Evil God lurked.
Adlet pointed at the root of the peninsula and said, “We’re meeting up there, where the continent and the peninsula converge.”
“You are,” Fremy replied.
They couldn’t see the full expansion of the region very well from their position. The land was covered in rugged hills dotted sparsely with forests and brush. Strangely, the entire peninsula was stained pitch-black.
“Wow, that color,” said Adlet. “So that’s the Evil God’s poison, huh?”
The Howling Vilelands were filled with a unique toxin that the Evil God exuded from its body. It had no effect on any living thing other than humans, but if a human touched it, death was certain in about a day. There was only one way to neutralize the poison: to be chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers and receive the divine protection of the Spirit of Fate. As long as the Evil God’s poison was present, only the six Braves were capable of approaching. If it weren’t for that, there would be no need for the six of them to attack alone.
“So what will you do?” asked Fremy. “I don’t want to encounter the other Braves.”
Adlet pointed at the foot of the mountain and said, “I’m a little curious about that fort.” There was a small stronghold there. It appeared partially destroyed, and there was smoke rising from it.
The two of them descended the mountain and arrived at the fort. It was damaged, but it seemed there were still people inside. Fremy pulled her hood over her head, hid the crest on her left hand, and stayed alert to her surroundings. Adlet found a soldier sitting in the archer’s tower.
“If there are any Braves in there, I’m running,” said Fremy.
“I understand.” Adlet nodded, then called out to the soldier on watch duty. “Excuse me! Are any Braves of the Six Flowers in here?”
The soldier replied, “No, they came two days ago, but they’ve already set off! Who are you?”
Adlet exchanged looks with Fremy. It seemed okay for now to go in. “Adlet Mayer. I’m one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. This girl is…well, don’t worry about it.”
Although he looked puzzled, the soldier descended from the watchtower and opened the gate. Adlet and Fremy entered the fort, and Adlet showed the soldier the crest that proved he was one of the six Braves.
“I am very glad to see you, Sir Brave,” the soldier said. “There is something we absolutely must let you know. Could you please come this way?”
“What is it?” asked Adlet.
“It’s very important. The success of your upcoming battle depends on it.”
Adlet glanced at Fremy. It seemed she also intended to hear what the soldier had to say.
“Please come with me,” invited the soldier. “Oh, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Loren, private first class of the army of Gwenvaella. I am presently commanding officer at this fort.”
“Commanding officer? You?” Adlet asked without thinking. From the soldier’s manner, Adlet could tell he was quite capable. But he was of low rank, and his equipment was meager, too.
“Everyone is dead—the general, the captains,” he explained. “The lower-ranking troops and I are all that remain. But there is something we must protect, down to the very last man.”
Adlet and Fremy followed Private Loren into the fort. The smell of death hung heavy inside. Human corpses and the bodies of a few fiends littered the ground. The damage was graver than it had seemed from outside.
“This way.” Private Loren beckoned. In the center of the floor, there stood a heavy iron door, which the soldier opened to reveal a basement. Apparently, the fort had been built in order to protect this. He led them into the basement. In this small room deep in the ground, there were five soldiers. And standing by itself in the center of the room was an altar of a shape Adlet had never seen before.
“Is this what you were protecting?” Adlet asked, pointing to the altar.
But Private Loren shook his head. “This is a replica of what we’re here to protect. Please take a look at this map.” A map of the Howling Vilelands and its environs sat on a table in front of the altar. “The king of Gwenvaella set up a certain mechanism to help the six Braves in preparation for the revival of the Evil God. That is what we are protecting.” The soldier put his finger on the continent side of the map. “Presently, a swarm of fiends is advancing deeper into the continent, targeting the Braves of the Six Flowers. I believ
e you may have already encountered some. However, the moment they find out that the Braves have entered the Howling Vilelands, they will turn around and head back. Their goal is to exterminate the Braves of the Six Flowers. Nothing else matters to them.”
“I see,” said Adlet.
“And so, in the utmost secrecy, the king of Gwenvaella has constructed a mechanism to fence off the peninsula after the Braves of the Six Flowers have entered the Howling Vilelands,” the soldier said, pointing to the border between the Howling Vilelands and the continent. “With the help of three Saints—Fog, Illusion, and Salt—the king has readied a powerful barrier in order to prevent fiends from leaving or entering this forest. It is called the Phantasmal Barrier.” There was a large circle drawn on the map near the entrance to the Howling Vilelands, indicating the range of the barrier.
Fiends were incapable of crossing the sea. The coast of the Howling Vilelands was incredibly rocky, so even if anyone attempted to set sail, they would have no place to dock a boat. Some fiends could fly, but they were few in number. Sealing off this circle would confine the majority of fiends within the area.
“It’s an amazing plan,” said Adlet. “So what’s this barrier like?”
“It prevents entry and exit,” explained Private Loren. “That is all the barrier is intended to do. When it is activated, the entire area within it will be enveloped in fog. Anyone trying to escape the fog will lose their sense of direction, and before they realize what they’re doing, they will find themselves right back inside. Conversely, anyone trying to enter will end up exiting the way they came.”
“I had no idea. This is quite something,” said Adlet, and he glanced at Fremy. From the look on her face, she hadn’t known about it, either.
“The barrier hasn’t been deployed yet,” the soldier said. “Once we have confirmed that all six Braves have entered the Howling Vilelands, we will activate it.”
“How do you do that?” asked Adlet.
Private Loren pointed to a spot a short distance from the fort.
“Here, there is a temple built for the purpose of activating the barrier. The temple is surrounded by fortifications constructed by the Saint of Salt that protect it from fiends, so you don’t have to worry about it being destroyed.”
Hearing the soldier’s description, Adlet was impressed. It was a superb plan.
Next, Private Loren indicated an area on the map near the Howling Vilelands. “One of the Braves of the Six Flowers, Lady Mora, the Saint of Mountains, is waiting here. She visited this fort two days ago. We told her about the barrier then and discussed things.”
One of the six Braves was waiting for them. When Fremy heard that, her expression grew somewhat grim.
“So?”
“The plan is that once all six Braves have gathered at that point, Lady Mora will send up a flare to signal us. When we see that flare, we will head to the temple and activate the barrier. If we are attacked by fiends and annihilated before the six Braves convene, then we will send up a flare instead.”
“What for?”
“In that case, please send one of the Braves to the temple to complete our mission. After conferring with Lady Mora, we have concluded that is the best plan.”
Adlet fell silent. From what Private Loren described, the person who activated the barrier would be unable to leave it. In other words, one of the six Braves would be isolated from the true battle. But Adlet felt there was value in activating this bafflement, even if it meant losing one of the Braves.
“Inside the temple, there is an altar just like this one. Please look,” Private Loren prompted.
Adlet stood in front of the altar replica. It was a plain affair. There were a pedestal and a single decorative sword. To the left, there was a slate, and on the right, there was a book written in hieroglyphs.
“Activating the barrier is easy,” said the soldier. “You just thrust the sword into the pedestal, put your hand on the slate, and say, Fog, rise .”
“Roger,” said Adlet. “I’ll remember that. But activating the barrier is your job.”
“I understand. We will carry out this mission, even if it means our lives.”
Adlet extended his hand to Private Loren. The soldier smiled and accepted his handshake. The two grasped hands tightly.
Adlet and Fremy left the fort and headed toward the Howling Vilelands. It would take about three hours to reach the point where they were supposed to gather, and where Mora, the Saint of Mountains, was waiting.
“Well, we’re in a pickle,” said Adlet. Fremy had been silent ever since she’d heard their discussion at the fort about the barrier. “He said Mora is waiting at the entrance to the Howling Vilelands, and Nashetania may well be meeting up with her right now, too. It looks like it’ll be difficult to enter the Howling Vilelands without being noticed by them.”
“Don’t talk to me. I’m thinking.”
Adlet shrugged. “Hey, then why don’t we just get together with the rest of the Braves for now? We can think about what we’re gonna do after that.”
“If that was supposed to be a joke, I’m not laughing. If we meet the other Braves, we’ll end up trying to kill one another.”
Adlet didn’t believe things would come to that. They were a team, and there were only six of them. Whatever had happened in the past, they were supposed to forget all that for the time being and work together. Adlet planned to acknowledge every Brave as a comrade, no matter how villainous they might be, for the sake of defeating the Evil God.
“Of course, I don’t intend to go down so easily,” Fremy added.
“Don’t worry. If you do end up fighting, I’ll protect you.” He meant it as a joke. He figured she’d say something like Stop screwing with me and reject his remark anyway.
But Fremy reacted a little unexpectedly. “Adlet, you…” He got the feeling this was the first time she had used his name. “You’re a kind person, aren’t you?”
Hearing that embarrassed him. Adlet blushed a little. So she’s finally stopped being so surly , he thought, but then Fremy shot him a look that sent a chill running down his spine.
“Don’t show me that kindness. It makes me want to kill you.”
He was about to ask what she was talking about, but before the words could come out of his mouth, he shoved her away. He had sensed a murderous aura behind them. There was now a white blade sticking out from where Fremy had been. When Adlet turned, he saw Nashetania in the forest.
“Adlet, get away from her, please!” cried the princess.
Fremy rose to her feet, drawing her gun and firing in one smooth motion. Blades erupted from the ground to block her bullets, and then a tall knight in black armor emerged from the forest to charge Fremy. Adlet blocked his path, knocking aside the knight’s spear with his sword.
“Wait! Stop! Don’t attack her!” Adlet yelled.
But neither Nashetania nor the knight was listening. “She told you to move! Are you deaf?!” shouted the knight.
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” Adlet screamed back.
Nashetania pressed her attack on Fremy, who kept her gun trained on Nashetania while dodging the blades at her feet. Adlet blocked the knight, who was trying to attack Fremy from behind.
“Why are you so surprised? I told you if we met, we’d end up trying to kill one another,” Fremy said scornfully.
Adlet had known that. But he’d also thought they would have a little more room for discussion.
“You’re in the way, Adlet.” The tall knight swung the handle of his spear around.
Why does he know my name? Adlet wondered, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on it. He blocked the handle of the spear with his sword but was knocked back, sword and all. Even in midair, though, he managed to throw some sand into the knight’s eyes. Fremy did not let the opportunity go to waste. She pointed the muzzle of her gun at the tall knight, but Adlet used his sword to flick a pebble at his companion, hitting her wrist.
The four of them moved in a dizzying
round robin. Nashetania and the knight targeted Fremy, and Fremy mercilessly struck back. Adlet desperately tried to intercede and bring the fighting to a halt.
“Adlet! Why are you trying to stop us?” Nashetania yelled, clearly growing impatient.
Adlet yelled back at her even louder. “Everyone, stop! She’s not our enemy! She’s one of the Braves of the Six Flowers!”
“Huh? What did you just say?” asked Nashetania.
Fremy and Nashetania froze. The knight stood protectively in front of Nashetania. Adlet forced himself between the three of them. “Look at her left hand,” he said. “She’s one of the Braves. She’s not our enemy.”
Nashetania and the tall knight looked at Fremy. When they noticed the crest on her left hand, they gasped but did not lower their weapons. “J-just what is going on here, Goldof?” Nashetania demanded of the tall knight.
“I do not know. All I know for certain is that Fremy is our enemy,” Goldof replied, pointing his spearhead at Fremy.
“Hey, you big lug. Are you the one who put this into her head? What the hell is this about?” Adlet accused.
Goldof just glared at the young man without replying to the questions. “So you’re Adlet, huh? Just what were you doing, going off who-knows-where and abandoning the princess?”
“Answer my damn question. You’re really pissing me off.” Adlet and Goldof stared daggers at each other. Nashetania, standing behind Goldof, attempted to pacify him.
In an effort to mediate, Adlet spoke especially quietly and slowly. “First, listen. Nashetania, why are you attacking Fremy? She’s one of us.”
“No, she is not ,” insisted Nashetania. “Adlet, please get away from her.”
“Please answer my question. I don’t know what’s going on right now.”
“Adlet, you may not believe this, but…she’s the one who’s been killing potential Braves.”
Adlet looked at Fremy. She was undaunted, her gun raised as she glared at the other woman.
“She’s the killer? What are you talking about?” asked Adlet.
“Goldof is the one who informed me,” Nashetania said. “It’s trustworthy.” Goldof gave a distinct nod.
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 6