“…Huh?” Terror ran through him. The air around him suddenly got colder, as if his entire body had been plunged into water. Mist slowly began rising from the ground—from his feet to his chest, from his chest to his head, and then, in a heartbeat, filling the whole area.
Adlet remembered what Private Loren had said. When the barrier is activated, the entire area within it will be enveloped in fog. His body began trembling. It sensed the crisis before his mind did. Once the barrier is activated, you can no longer get inside. Adlet entered the temple. He looked at the altar positioned in the central area of the tiny room. And those inside can’t escape, either. This affects both humans and fiends alike. The barrier was activated by putting a hand on the slate imbued with divine power and thrusting the decorative sword into the pedestal. That was what Private Loren had told him.
And now Adlet saw…the sword was already in the pedestal.
“I didn’t move it,” he murmured. “Who did it?! Who activated the barrier?!” Adlet yelled, running out of the temple to scan the area. He blew his flute, the one that attracted fiends, and did a sweep with his telescope.
“Adlet!” came a voice. It wasn’t long before Nashetania ran up to him, her face pale. Goldof and Fremy arrived soon after. “What happened?! Why has the barrier been activated?!” shouted Nashetania.
This was the first time Adlet had ever heard Nashetania lose her composure. Overcome by shock, Adlet replied, “No…it wasn’t me. Someone activated the barrier and then disappeared instantly afterward.”
“That can’t be,” she said.
“I’m not making it up,” he insisted. “They disappeared. It was only an instant, and then they were gone.”
Nashetania’s lips were trembling. Goldof’s eyes were wide. Even Fremy had lost the ability to speak. It couldn’t be… Were they trapped here?
“Let’s just go inside!” suggested Adlet. The four of them rushed into the temple.
As she gazed at the pedestal impaled with the decorative sword, the look on Nashetania’s face said she had no idea what was going on. She put her hand on the sword, checked the slate and the pedestal, and then squeezed out, “The barrier has been activated. I can’t believe this. Who did it?”
“I don’t know. Sorry, but I have no idea what happened.” Adlet shook his head.
“Well, let us deactivate it, then. Pardon,” said Goldof as he approached the altar. He pulled the sword from the pedestal—but they could see no changes in the fog blanketing the area. “Will that not work? Your Highness, do you know how we might nullify the barrier?”
“No, I don’t know, either,” she replied. “There must be a way…”
That was where Adlet cut in. “Give me that for a second.”
“Do you know something about this?” asked Nashetania.
“The previous generation of Braves made something like this before. Back then, I think they canceled out the barrier like this.” Adlet ran his hand along the blade of the sword. Blood dripped down it and wet the pedestal. “Barrier, nullify!” he declared, but still, nothing happened.
Next, Nashetania grabbed the sword and yelled random lines one after another. “Nullify the barrier! Cancel it, you! You stop now! Stop the fog! I will be this barrier’s master!” But still, the barrier did not lift. Finally, she became impatient and began bashing the pedestal and the slate with the hilt of the slim sword. The sword chipped, and the slate broke.
“Calm down, Nashetania. There’s no point in randomly whacking at it,” Fremy said coldly behind them. “Private Loren, who was at the fort, should be around here somewhere. Since there was that explosion earlier, he should be on the move.”
“You’re right. I—I’m sorry.” Nashetania seemed ashamed.
“Goldof, you protect the temple. You, too, Fremy,” ordered Adlet, and he and Nashetania left the temple to search for Private Loren.
They must have scouted for about thirty minutes. Adlet and Nashetania returned to the temple with nothing to show for their efforts. Had Private Loren and his men not come this way? Or had the fiends already killed them?
“What do we do?” asked Adlet. “Mora was ahead of us. At this rate, she’ll end up all on her own.”
“And more importantly, we cannot escape from here,” replied Nashetania.
The four looked at one another as they tried to think of a way to break out, but none came up with any good ideas.
“What’re you all fussing about?” That was when they heard a voice coming from outside the temple. A girl stood in front of the broken doors. She looked to be about thirteen or fourteen years old and quite strange, wearing a frilly, check-patterned dress and a jester’s hat. In one hand, she held a green foxtail. A pouch and a water bottle hung diagonally across her chest. She looked like a child who’d gone on a picnic and gotten lost. “Oh, you’re that big guy from before,” she said when she saw Goldof. “Did you find that Brave-killer? And you, you’re the princess of Piena, aren’t you? So you were chosen as one of the six?” This time she was addressing Nashetania. Maybe she just didn’t understand the situation—there was absolutely zero anxiety in her tone.
“Who’re you?” Adlet asked.
The girl grinned. “Nice to meet you, weird belt guy. Chamo Rosso, Saint of Swamps. Chamo got chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.” The girl—Chamo Rosso—lifted the hem of her skirt. The Crest of the Six Flowers marked her skinny thigh.
“The Saint of Swamps is a kid?” Adlet muttered.
Chamo Rosso, the Saint of Swamps.
Anyone who lived in the world of warriors would know that name. Adlet had heard her power far surpassed Nashetania’s. She was said to be not only the most powerful person alive in the present day, but the strongest ever, aside from the Saint of the Single Flower. Adlet didn’t really know exactly what kind of power she wielded, but he had never imagined she would be so young.
“Who’re you?” Chamo asked Adlet.
“Me? I’m Adlet Mayer, the strongest man in the world. I was chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, just like you.”
“‘The strongest in the world’? Isn’t that supposed to be Chamo?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Adlet, “I hear people generally call you that, but in actuality, you’re not. I’m the strongest in the world.”
“What are you talking about?” Chamo tilted her head.
Adlet’s manner was jocular as he said, “I gotta apologize to you—I’m stealing your title of strongest in the world. Well, second in the world is still pretty amazing, so just be satisfied with that.”
“…Hweh. ” Chamo made a weird sound, crossed her arms, and reflected. She pondered for a while and then clapped her hands. “Oh, Chamo gets it. This guy is brain-dead, isn’t he?”
“He’s a little strange, but he’s reliable. Don’t worry,” Nashetania reassured, cutting in from the side.
That was when Adlet noticed how Fremy, who was behind them, was acting. Though she’d been expressionless this whole time, now she was suddenly pale. Her lips were trembling very slightly.
Chamo fixed her eyes on Fremy and said, “Long time, no see, Fremy. Why’re you here?”
Adlet was about to ask, Do you know her? But Fremy was just cringing in terror.
“Well, Chamo can deal with you later. What the heck happened here?” Chamo made the foxtail in her hand sway as she gave an uncanny smile.
Adlet and Nashetania took turns filling her in on the details of what had happened up to this point. Chamo had not stopped by Private Loren’s fort, but she seemed to know a little about the Phantasmal Barrier, though she said she didn’t know how to nullify it.
As they spoke, Adlet occasionally looked over to check Fremy. She said nothing as she stood at the edge of the temple. Chamo made no move to approach Fremy, either. “Hmm , oh,” said Chamo. “This is a bit of a problem.”
What about this is just “a bit of a problem ”? wondered Adlet.
“Well, whatever. For now, Chamo will just kill Fremy,�
� she said, as if this were the obvious course of action. Reflexively, Fremy drew her gun.
“Wait!” Adlet immediately stepped between the two of them.
Chamo gave Adlet a puzzled look. “Why are you getting in the way?”
“No, what are you thinking?” he demanded. “I just explained this to you. Fremy is one of us.”
“What a funny thing to say. You know she’s the killer who’s been after the Braves? She’s the one who activated the barrier, too.” Chamo touched the foxtail to her mouth.
Nashetania grabbed Chamo by the wrist. “Wait, please, Chamo. When the barrier was activated, Fremy was with us. She couldn’t have activated the barrier.”
“Oh, really? It doesn’t matter anyway, so let go,” Chamo replied.
“I won’t.”
Eyes brimming with quiet anger, Chamo glared at Nashetania. “Why’re you ordering me around? Are you someone important? Are you some princess or something…?”
“Yes, in fact, I am.”
“…Oh yeah, you are. What to do, then?” Chamo smiled wryly and shrugged.
“Chamo, did something happen between you and Fremy?” asked Adlet.
The one to reply was not the little girl, but Goldof, who had been watching in silence. “Chamo once fought with Fremy.”
“What do you mean?” asked Adlet.
Chamo took over from Goldof. “It was about six months ago, maybe. She was trying to gun down Chamo. It was a close call, but Chamo’s pet stopped Fremy at the last minute. She said she was Fremy, the Saint of Gunpowder. There was more fighting afterward, but she ran away. You know, it was the first time Chamo ever failed to finish off a target after deciding to kill them. It was so infuriating.” Adlet could sense the bloodlust emanating from her body. “This whole time, Chamo’s been thinking, Fremy needs to die . So, now she will, right?”
Adlet shook his head. Nashetania did not release Chamo’s wrist, either. An air of unrest hung over them.
“Chamo, please hold on,” said Nashetania. “First, we need to find a way to resolve this barrier problem.”
“You and the big guy can do something about that, Princess,” said Chamo. “While you’re busy with that, Chamo will deal with Fremy.”
“Nashetania is right,” said Adlet. “There’re five people here, so that means that someone named Mora, who got here ahead of us, is all on her own out there. We need to find a way to dispel the barrier first, for her sake, too.”
As Adlet and Nashetania continued trying to convince Chamo to stop, a comment came from the temple entrance. “If you’re concerned about me, you needn’t be.”
All present turned in the direction of the voice. A tall woman stood there. She looked to be in her late twenties and wore a serious expression, with powerful eyes. Long black hair flowed down her back, and she wore blue priestess robes. The large iron gauntlets on both her hands seemed to double as both weapon and armor. Just seeing her standing there, Adlet could tell she was strong. That was the kind of woman she was.
“What a long-awaited reunion, Princess Nashetania, Chamo,” the woman said. “And that gentleman over there is Sir Goldof, I presume?” The woman walked to the center of the temple. “I am Mora Chester, Saint of Mountains. I serve as the elder of the All Heavens Temple. It’s good to see you all.”
Nashetania had continued holding Chamo’s wrist, even after Mora’s entrance. Mora stepped between the two of them, forcing Nashetania to let go. “It looks like you have some quarrel,” said Mora. “Chamo, try not to act too selfishly.”
“Auntie Mora, this wasn’t Chamo’s fault,” protested Chamo.
“Oh? Well, you can say your piece later. For now, just settle down.” Mora mediated between the two, and Chamo reluctantly stepped down.
Adlet was privately relieved to see such a reliable-looking person arrive on the scene. This meant that they had all six Braves now.
“Let’s tackle the subject at hand. Why has the barrier been activated?” asked Mora.
“I think we’ve probably fallen into a trap set by our enemies,” replied Nashetania.
“Most likely,” Mora agreed. “The fiends have a knack for using our own weapons against us.”
“Come on, it’s no big deal,” said Adlet. “Once we find a way to nullify the barrier, problem solved.”
“Yes, that is indeed true. Now, boy, do you…” Then Mora looked around the area as if she had just noticed something. She considered the faces of each of the other five present in turn and said, “By the way, it seems we have an outsider in our midst. Who is it?”
Everyone aside from Mora looked confused. “Wait, what do you mean?” asked Adlet.
“What do you mean? We have one person too many,” she replied.
What are you talking about? thought Adlet, when another voice came from the temple entrance.
“Meow? Looks like we’ve got quite the crowd here. Does this mean we’ve got a full set?” A strange man entered the temple. His eyes were hidden by disheveled hair, and he looked a little dirty. Adlet couldn’t quite tell how old he was. He wore shabby hempen pants with a shirt and soft leather shoes. Except for the pair of hatchet-like swords belted at his waist, his dress was utterly commonplace. There was also a cat’s tail attached to his rear—perhaps as a joke. The man looked around the temple with a mocking smile on his face. “Meow-hee-hee , there’s a lotta pretty ladies in this set o’ Braves. Suddenly, I’m actually getting into this.”
“Who are you?” Nashetania asked.
Mora replied in the man’s place. “Let me introduce you—though I only met him just yesterday. This is Hans Humpty, another Brave of the Six Flowers.”
What? Adlet was befuddled. We already have all the Braves right here.
“It seems that we have an outsider tagging along. Who of the seven here is not a Brave?” asked Mora.
Adlet was entirely unable to reply. All he understood was that this was a preposterously abnormal situation. Nashetania and Goldof were both standing there, stunned. Even expressionless Fremy and unflappable Chamo were caught off-balance.
“All of you, show your crests,” said Adlet as he thrust out his right hand marked with the Crest of the Six Flowers. Fremy showed everyone the back of her left hand. Nashetania pulled down her breastplate to reveal the crest near her collarbone. Chamo rolled up her skirt to show the crest on her thigh.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Mora sounded confused.
“Goldof, what about you?” asked Adlet. “I haven’t seen yours.”
Goldof removed the pauldron from his right shoulder and rolled up his sleeve. There indeed, on his shoulder, was the Crest of the Six Flowers.
Seeing the five crests exposed, Mora and Hans quickly caught on. Both of their faces froze.
“Mora, Hans, please show us your crests, too,” said Nashetania.
“H-hey, just what the meow is goin’ on?” Hans took off his jacket to reveal his full upper body. The Crest of the Six Flowers was indeed there on the left side of his chest, over his heart.
“Mora, your crest,” said Nashetania.
“Impossible,” Mora refuted. “What is this? Just what on earth is going on?”
All eyes gathered on Mora. She unbuttoned her priestess robes, turned her back to them, and pulled the cloth off one shoulder. In the center of her back, between her shoulder blades, was what was clearly the Crest of the Six Flowers.
“There are…seven?” Nashetania murmured in shock.
Bewildered, Mora cried, “Check more closely! This is impossible! There cannot be seven Braves!”
The seven of them checked one another’s crests. There were multiple rounds of inspection to see if there was any variance in size or shape or difference in the faintly shining pink coloration. But every one of the crests was absolutely identical. All seven were speechless. None of them could understand what was going on.
“Is it possible for seven Braves to be chosen?” Adlet murmured.
“Boy,” replied Mora, “long ago, the Saint of the
Single Flower divided her power into six and left it for future generations. Each Brave inherits one of those fragments of her power. That is why there can be only six Braves.”
“So in other words, what?” he asked.
“There are six Braves. Any more or any less would not be within the realm of possibility,” she replied.
“But there are seven, right here.” This time, it was Fremy who spoke.
“Yes, we have seven. What is the meaning of this?” Mora asked. But no one could answer.
After a pause, suddenly the temple echoed with laughter. “Meow-ha-ha-ha!” The source was the strange man who had appeared last in the temple, Hans.
“What’s so funny?” asked Adlet.
“Listen. It’s not that hard to figure meowt. Basically, it means one of us is a fake. Get it?” Hans declared without hesitation.
“Come on, why would there be a fake here?” Adlet asked.
“Because one of us is the enemy. You understand?” replied Hans.
Adlet was silent. That wasn’t necessarily the case.
“Is it possible…that the Spirit of Fate thought six would not be enough, and so an extra was made…?” Nashetania posited, not sounding very confident.
“If the Spirit did that, then wouldn’t we have been told?” countered Hans. “Not that I know if the Spirit o’ Fate can even talk.” Adlet knew that Hans’s explanation was the most rational one. “There’s a fake among us, and they’re not sayin’ who they are,” Hans continued. “If the fake ain’t our enemy, then who are they? If you can think of any other reasons there’d be an extra, I’m all ears.” As Hans spoke, he looked over each of their faces. There was cold sweat breaking out on his, too.
Everyone scrutinized everyone else. Like Adlet and Hans, every one of their faces revealed confusion and fear. There was an enemy among them, but they couldn’t tell who it was just by looking.
I could burst out laughing , reveled the traitor. Making a concerted effort to act confused, the impostor gloried in the reactions of the six Braves.
The plan had succeeded. Everything was proceeding perfectly, just as expected. The mole had obtained a fake crest and infiltrated the Braves of the Six Flowers. The Braves had been lured into the barrier and then sealed up inside. Every scheme had played out according to plan. It had all been so very easy, it was actually scary.
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 8