“I have already spoken of this with Goldof and Fremy, but Chamo, Nashetania, and I have investigated the construction of this barrier,” Mora explained. Adlet and Hans nodded. While the two of them had been checking out the borders of the barrier, Mora and the others had been deciphering the book on the altar written in hieroglyphs. “Getting to the crux of the matter: There were no methods of deactivating this barrier recorded in the text. There is a possibility that a method exists, but at this point in time, we know it not.”
“Meow , what a disaster,” Hans muttered.
“However, there are still two ways to do it,” said Mora. “First, the one who activated the barrier should also be capable of deactivating it. Alternately, if the one who activated it were to die, the fog would be lifted.”
“And you’re certain of that?” asked Adlet.
“Ninety-nine percent sure. Theoretically speaking, a barrier that can’t be deactivated even by the person who initiated it simply cannot exist. A barrier that remains operational even after the activator is dead would also be impossible.”
“I see.” Adlet remembered what had happened when the barrier had first been activated. The moment the doors opened, the armored soldiers had attacked him, and then the fiend behind him had let loose that shrill laugh. Someone had activated the barrier during that interval and then run away. But who on earth had done it, and how? Grasping desperately for clues or ideas, Adlet threw questions at Mora. “Is the person who activated the barrier still here inside it?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Whether human or fiend, we are all completely unable to escape the fog. That holds true even for the one who activated it.”
“Would it be possible to activate the barrier from outside the temple?”
“No.”
“Can the barrier be activated only by a human?”
Mora reflected for a moment before replying. “Yes. A fiend should not be able to operate a barrier created by a Saint.”
“In other words…this means there’s a human allied with the Evil God,” reasoned Adlet.
Mora shook her head firmly. “I cannot imagine someone like that could exist. If the Evil God were to be completely revived, it could well signal the extinction of the human race. No human would do that, whatever their reasons might be.”
“There’s one here among us, at the very least,” said Adlet.
“That’s why Chamo’s been saying it’s Fremy. Why can’t you guys get that?” Chamo whined, exasperated.
“We don’t know that for sure. I believe Fremy is one of us,” said Adlet.
“But I cannot imagine any other human would ally with the Evil God.” Mora tilted her head.
“They exist,” Adlet insisted. “Fiends abduct groups of people and threaten them into cooperating. Not everyone can refuse them under threat of force. Make no mistake, there are humans who will follow fiends’ orders.”
“I understand, Adlet. Then this means we cannot let our guard down,” said Mora.
That was when Fremy spoke. “You know…,” she began. All present turned to her in surprise. “You’ve explained a lot so far. But is what you say really correct?”
Mora glared at her. “I do not speak based on speculation. All of this is most certainly accurate.”
“That’s not what I mean. Sorry, but you have no proof that you’re actually one of us.”
“…”
“I’m not the impostor,” said Fremy. “I’m not the seventh. The seventh is one of you. From my perspective, you’re just another suspect, Mora. You said if you kill the person who activated the barrier, the barrier will be lifted, and that a fiend can’t trigger the barrier…but I have no guarantee that what you say is true.”
Mora faltered. Adlet was taken by surprise. Mora’s background was so solid, he hadn’t suspected her. But Fremy was right—there was no guarantee that Mora’s assertions held up.
“Fremy, I think Mora is telling the truth,” said Nashetania.
“Yeah, Chamo thinks so, too,” agreed the young Saint.
“Oh? But you can’t forget that one among us is the enemy,” countered Fremy. “One of us is lying.”
“You’re the most suspicious among us right now, Fremy,” said Nashetania.
“I’m not the seventh. That’s all I can say right now.”
“Then who do you believe is the seventh?” Goldof asked. Fremy didn’t reply.
Gradually, the terrifying fact that an impostor stood among them began sinking in. One of them was an enemy; one of them was lying. They had to suspect everything, even the slightest remark. Conversely, if Adlet said something careless, he could become suspect as well. He had to be careful in order not to be deceived, not to be suspected, and not to mistake the truth for a lie.
That was when Chamo cut into the conversation. “Come on, this is getting to be way too much trouble. We just need to kill Fremy and get it over with, right?”
“That again?” Adlet was starting to get seriously pissed at Chamo, even if she was just a kid.
“It’s like Chamo keeps saying over and over,” she stressed, “there’s no one it could be but Fremy. She was obviously the one who turned on the barrier, too. Could you break her neck for us, big guy?”
Goldof shook his head. “Chamo, when the barrier was activated, Fremy was right there beside the princess and me. Even if she is the impostor, she couldn’t have triggered the barrier.”
“Oh. Then let’s torture the answers out of her. It’ll be new territory, but Chamo will try hard,” said the girl, and she put her foxtail to her lips.
Chills instantly shot down Adlet’s spine. He didn’t know what she would use that foxtail for, but he knew it would be absolutely terrifying. “Wait! Stop!” Adlet yelled, putting his hand on the sword at his waist.
“T-torture? You can’t do that! Goldof, stop Chamo!” Nashetania ordered.
Goldof seemed hesitant. “Your Highness, I believe that we have no other choice. It is for your protection. Adlet, escort Her Highness outside.”
“Goldof! How can you say that?!” Nashetania sounded extremely distressed.
Chamo slowly closed on Fremy. Mora seemed torn on the matter as well, but she made no move to stop the younger Saint. Nashetania could do nothing but panic.
The moment Adlet thought he would have no choice but to fight, an unexpected voice called for restraint.
“Don’t bother. I don’t reckon Fremy’s the seventh.” It was Hans.
Chamo, surprised, moved the foxtail away from her lips. “What’re you talking about, catboy?”
“I’m just sayin’, Fremy is too suspicious.”
“That’s not a reason,” said Chamo.
“Meow. Then I’ll explain it proper. If Fremy’s the seventh, then why is Adlet alive?”
“?” Chamo looked doubtful.
“If Fremy’s our impostor, it’s weird for her not to have killed Adlet by now. And the princess was with ’em, too—Fremy coulda killed ’em both at the same time. From what we’ve heard, I think she woulda had any number of meowportunities.”
“Well…” Chamo hesitated.
“All seven of us gatherin’ here would be the worst possible situation Fremy could be in,” continued Hans. “Once all the Braves come together in one spot, it’s clear that there’s a fake. And hearin’ her name and seein’ her face, we already know she’s the Brave-killer. She would expect to be tortured and killed, ya know?”
“Yeah,” agreed Chamo.
“She’d want to avoid all of us gettin’ together, whatever it took. But she just casually followed along with you folks, just like Adlet wanted her to. If Fremy were the seventh, what’d be the point in that?”
“You have a point,” said Mora. “That’s rather too many inconsistencies in her behavior for her to be our enemy.”
“Yes…maybe you’re right.” Nashetania concurred.
Adlet was relieved to have received such unexpected aid.
“But that does not change the fact that Fremy is
the most suspicious among us,” said Mora.
“Well, that’s true,” agreed Hans. “But if she was plannin’ to trick us, I think she woulda done somethin’ of a better job.”
Chamo gazed sadly at her foxtail. “Hey, so is Chamo not allowed to torture her?”
“Meow. Not yet.”
“This is the first time ever that so many people have talked back to Chamo.” Chamo sank into despondency. They had, for the time being, avoided the immediate crisis.
“So then, what should we do now?” asked Mora, sounding weary now that the fuss over possible torture had died down. This discussion had been going on for quite some time, but they had largely made no progress.
Suddenly, Nashetania hunched over, pressing her forehead.
“Your Highness!” Goldof released Fremy and ran toward Nashetania. Hans immediately grabbed Fremy’s chains instead.
“I’m okay… I just felt a little dizzy,” said Nashetania as she tried to stand.
“Sit down. Don’t push yourself,” advised Adlet.
“All right.” Still pressing her forehead, Nashetania knelt. Goldof drew close to her, propping her up. She looked pale. She must have been terribly exhausted. She had not displayed such fragility before, not even the first time she’d engaged with fiends. She was an excellent warrior. But she had been raised without wanting for anything, after all, so she was mentally weak. One of her comrades was the enemy, and the situation was too much to bear.
“Well, there’s no helping it. We will take a brief break,” Mora said, shoulders sagging. Though this was no time to be taking a breather, each of them got some rest.
Adlet decided to leave Nashetania to Goldof. When he stood, Mora beckoned him over. Adlet and Mora moved to a corner of the temple. “What is it, Mora?” he asked.
“Nothing terribly important,” she said. “I merely felt that you seemed like the easiest person with whom to speak.”
“Of course. ’Cause I’m the strongest man in the world.”
“The fact that you’re the easiest person to talk to here points to a difficult future.” Mora let out a small sigh. “Why are you so sure that Fremy is not the seventh?”
“I’ve got nothing to back it up,” he admitted. “It’s just, when we were together, her feelings got through to me.”
“It’s been half a day at most.”
“Yeah, but when something gets through, it gets through.”
“Your rationale is quite vague.”
“When we first met, I made up my mind to trust her,” Adlet said.
Mora gave him a deeply troubled look. “You’re too young. There is danger in youth that knows no suspicion.”
“Thanks for the advice. But my opinion isn’t gonna change.”
“I feel a little uneasy about this. You and the other Braves gathered here now are all so young. Chamo and Goldof are still at an age most would call children. Maybe the Spirit of Fate has made an error in judgment.”
It was true. Adlet and Nashetania were still eighteen. Fremy and Hans were of unknown age, but they didn’t look to be much older or younger than Adlet. “Strength isn’t measured in years alone,” said Adlet. “Young people have the strength of youth.”
“I hope so.”
“It’ll make you feel better to think like I do. If you’re pessimistic, you’ll make even winnable battles impossible.”
“I see. I suppose being able to think that way is another privilege of youth.” Mora smiled.
But Adlet figured that Mora still counted as pretty young by most standards. Setting aside her slightly weird, old-fashioned manner of speech, just how old was she?
“Do not speculate on a woman’s age, foolish boy,” she said.
Sharp. Adlet smiled wryly.
Then Nashetania stood. The energy had returned to her face, and fighting spirit burned in her eyes. “I’ve calmed down. I apologize for being such a burden, everyone.”
The seven of them, having scattered about in various directions, now gathered once more around the altar. Goldof took over guard duty from Hans and watched Fremy.
“Let us go outside,” said Mora. “We must pursue the person who activated the barrier. First, we will search for clues. Adlet, explain the situation when the barrier was activated, in as much detail as possible,” she prompted, and the group left the temple.
As Adlet began walking out, Nashetania grabbed his hand. “What’s wrong, Nashetania?” he asked.
“Um, please don’t think of me as an unreliable person,” she said. “I was just a little startled.”
“I get it. It’s not like you to be timid—it’s more like you to get up to some mischief.”
Nashetania pumped a fist. “I’ll do my best.”
“At mischief?”
“To lift the barrier and find the seventh.”
The seven of them walked out of the temple. While they stood in front of the door, Adlet told them everything he could remember. First, there was the transforming fiend that had been lying outside the pillars of salt that encircled the temple. It had disguised itself as a woman and urged him to go into the temple, and then it had revealed its true form and run away.
“That fiend must know something. If we can catch it and get it to talk…,” mused Goldof.
Chamo scratched her head, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s dead. It just happened to run in Chamo’s direction.”
“Why did you have to do that?” Goldof sounded exasperated.
Mora came to Chamo’s rescue. “Even if we had caught it, it would have been impossible to wrest information from it. Fiends are loyal creatures. If ordered not to speak, they never will, even on threat of death.”
Adlet continued. He told them how the door had been locked and how he’d blown the lock with explosives.
“That’s weird. It was locked? Wouldn’t they normally give you the key?” Chamo cocked her head.
Mora pulled the key from her chest pocket. “I have it. I’d wager Private Loren never conceived a scenario such as this.”
Adlet continued. He recounted the pair of armored soldiers who’d attacked after he’d blasted the doors. This was the most baffling part. They had attacked Adlet, but he didn’t think they had been pawns of the fiends.
“You mean this armor? I’ve been curious about it…” Nashetania picked up the fallen armor and peered inside. There was no body within—it was empty. “The inner face of this armor is packed with hieroglyphs. It’s so difficult, I can’t read it,” she admitted.
“These are sentries built by the Saint of Seals. They indiscriminately attack anyone who opens the door via illegitimate means,” explained Mora.
“This place was pretty heavily protected, huh?” Adlet commented.
“The one who created this barrier, the king of the Land of Iron Mountains, was highly secretive. He forbade not only fiends, but also humans from entering this place. It must have been to prevent it from being used for evil,” she replied.
“It’s sure being used for evil right now, though,” Adlet remarked. Though made with good intentions, had this barrier never been constructed, they wouldn’t be trapped within it like this. It made Adlet want to track down the one responsible. He was about to continue when he noticed something odd. Hans was peering into the armor and then scrupulously examining the broken door. His expression was serious. But before Adlet could ask him what was up, Mora prodded him to go on.
“And after that?” she asked.
“Yeah. When I opened the door, the barrier was already activated. I think the fog was generated immediately after the doors were destroyed. When I went inside, the sword was already in the pedestal.”
“So the barrier activated the moment before you opened the doors?” asked Mora.
“Yeah, and there was absolutely no sign of anyone inside. Frankly, I was pretty shocked,” Adlet finished.
Mora folded her arms and considered the situation. “It does not appear that this was the work of a normal human. Undoubtedly, a Saint is involved.�
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“A Saint…,” repeated Nashetania. “Why would a Saint cooperate with the Evil God?”
“They were probably threatened. Fiends do that sort of thing a lot.” Adlet looked at Mora. “You’d know, wouldn’t you? You’d know which Saints would be capable of something like this.”
“Illusion, perhaps?” she suggested. “No, impossible. To conceal their presence from you entirely and then escape… I cannot think of any so easily.”
“Meow. Adlet.” Suddenly, Hans called out to him loudly. “Are ya sure yer not rememberin’ somethin’ wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Adlet asked. “I don’t think so.”
“I see. I’ll ask one more time. Are ya sure yer not rememberin’ somethin’ wrong?”
Adlet was confused.
“If yer gonna make any corrections, do it now,” Hans continued. “If ya try to take it back afterward, things ain’t gonna go easy.”
“All right. What’s your point?” Adlet demanded.
“When ya went in there, the sword was ‘already in the pedestal.’ You sure o’ that?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll ask ya one last time. Yer absolutely sure?”
“You just don’t let go. I’m sure! Why won’t you believe me?”
Then Hans quietly put a hand to the sword at his waist. Adlet thought he might draw it, but he only rested his hand there. “I’m an assassin. Sneakin’ in and runnin’ out is somethin’ of a specialty of mine.”
“Oh? It seems you’ll be quite useful,” said Mora.
“In my line o’ work, there’s no one we fear more than the great Saint of Seals,” Hans continued. “Ya see, the Saint of Seals has made these meowsterious doors all over the place. She’s made doors with locks that won’t open, doors that won’t close once opened, and doors that drop down iron bars once ya open ’em. How many times have those things given me trouble? Anyways, I know quite a bit about her doors.”
“…And?” Adlet demanded again.
“This door’s pretty well-made.” Hans elaborated. “Instead of bein’ extra sturdy, it’s made so that once ya open it, it can never be closed again.”
“Wait, what does that mean?”
“I’m the one askin’ questions, Adlet. It sounds funny, don’t it? The door was closed when ya came, and the barrier activated the moment ya broke the door. So then, how did the one who turned on the barrier get inside?”
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 10