“What do you mean?” Adlet was confused. There should have been any number of ways to get inside.
“Listen, Adlet. There’s no way someone coulda entered the temple before ya broke that door. Nobody coulda done it!”
“Wait! That couldn’t be!” Adlet went into the temple. He looked for a ventilation window, but there was none. The windows letting in light were iron barred and covered in thick glass. He searched the stone walls, but there was no trace anywhere that they had been broken and then repaired. Dumbfounded, he looked around the temple. He’d considered how the culprit might have escaped after activating the barrier—but he couldn’t understand how they’d gotten in in the first place.
“Adlet, if ya don’t start thinkin’ hard, yer gonna die,” said Hans. “How could the person who activated the barrier have gotten into an impenetrable temple? Meow? ”
“I…”
“Once the door is opened, it won’t close again, and that door is the only way in. How could anyone get inside like that? Even if there was a fiend with special meowers, fiends can’t come close. Ya’d hafta get into it with human skill alone.”
“…”
“I’ll tell ya somethin’ else while I’m at it,” Hans continued. “We call this sorta situation, where no one can get in or out, a ‘locked-room meowstery.’”
A locked-room mystery. The unfamiliar term spun around in Adlet’s head. He couldn’t think of a single solution to this riddle. “Maybe they dug a hole,” he suggested. “Removed the flagstones and dug a hole into the temple, and then activated the barrier. And then when I blew up the door, they escaped and immediately refilled it.”
“Meow? In an instant? How?”
“There might be a Saint with powers that could do that. Like the Saint of Earth or something.” Adlet searched for any sign that there might have been a hole dug inside.
But then Chamo said, “That’s not right.”
“Why not?” asked Adlet.
“When you and Hans went off to the border of the barrier, Auntie Mora said someone might be hidden around here. So Chamo searched all over the ground and the forest with the power of the swamp. There wasn’t any trace of a hole. Chamo has the power to find things in the ground, too.”
The power of swamp and the ability to probe underground. What on earth is she? Adlet wondered.
“Adlet, I saw Chamo searching through the earth, too. They could not have dug a hole,” testified Goldof, and Nashetania nodded. Adlet had to believe them.
“There is one more thing I should add. The Saint of Earth has no such ability. Even with Chamo’s power, digging a hole and escaping in a single instant would be impossible,” Mora said.
Now that everyone had shot down his suggestion, Adlet was forced to discard the possibility that someone had tunneled their way out. “Then it doesn’t have to be a hole. They could have used some kind of Saint’s power,” he said, turning to Mora. “Mora, there must be someone. There must be a Saint with the power to open the door and get into the temple.”
“Sorry, but there is not,” Mora replied. “The Saint of Seals’s power is unbreakable. This door can be opened by force, but once opened, it’s most certainly impossible to close.”
“That couldn’t be. If there’s no Saint with the power, then…nobody could get inside.” Adlet thought about it. “Then there’s a Saint we don’t know about yet. A Saint raised by fiends, like Fremy.”
“No. My mother told me that I was the only child of a fiend and a human,” Fremy said dispassionately.
When Adlet looked over, he saw that Hans had quietly drawn his sword and Chamo was putting her foxtail to her lips.
“Stop it, Hans, Chamo. Let’s talk for a little while longer. It’s much too early to cast judgment.” Mora restrained the pair, but she, too, regarded Adlet suspiciously.
“Huh? Um…I don’t quite understand what you all mean.” Nashetania sounded confused. “Everyone…what are you talking about? Goldof? Hans? Mora? Adlet?” Nashetania was the only one in the dark as the tension among the Braves slowly mounted.
“Allow me to explain, Princess,” said Goldof. “Right now, Adlet is suspect.”
“That’s right. And these suspicions are soundin’ pretty decisive,” added Hans.
“Why? That’s not possible! Adlet could never be the one!” Nashetania cried angrily. As she did, her voice sounded distant.
“Well, ya know—nobody coulda gotten into the temple before Adlet opened the door. If he was the only one to go in, then who turned on the barrier?”
“It wasn’t Adlet. That’s a lie!” insisted Nashetania.
Hans’s shoulders shook in laughter. “Yer a wicked man, Adlet. Ya need to work hard to clear your name, ya know?”
“I’m shocked. Suddenly, our positions are reversed,” said Fremy.
Goldof, still restraining her, also glared at Adlet cautiously.
“Not so long ago he was coming to your defense, Fremy. You’re not going to offer similar support?” Mora attempted to incite her to action.
“I can’t save him,” Fremy replied coldly. “Nor do I have any intention to.”
“…The door,” Adlet squeezed out. “The culprit opened the door and then went inside. And then they removed the door by the hinges, since it could no longer close, made a new door, and sealed the temple, hiding inside. When I got here, they activated the barrier and then, when the doors opened, sneaked away without me noticing! That would make it possible!”
The explanation was a reach at best. When Hans heard it, he started laughing. It was a mocking chuckle, as if he were saying, That’s all you got? “This door was made by the old Saint of Seals,” he said. “The current Saint doesn’t have much experience. She wouldn’t be capable of makin’ such a fine door.”
“So what? So then, the previous Saint made it.” Adlet’s voice was shrill. He couldn’t hide his agitation.
“The old Saint of Seals died four years ago. No one else but her would’ve been able to install that door.” Hans rejected even his most desperate answer.
Without thinking, Adlet shrieked, “You’re the seventh, Hans!” That was the only possibility now. The story about the door and the Saint was all a lie. It couldn’t be anything else.
“Unfortunately, Adlet,” said Mora, “everything Hans says is true.”
Adlet couldn’t think of a response.
Trembling, Nashetania said, “It—it’s not true, right, Adlet? This is…this is just absurd.” She was the only one left who believed in his innocence.
Why is this happening to me? Adlet wondered. It was a trap. He’d fallen into a trap. The seventh hadn’t just imprisoned them all within the barrier. This was a setup to make the Braves kill one another.
“Now then, what should we do?” asked Mora. “For starters, everyone, tell us your thoughts.”
“Thoughts about what?!” Adlet wailed, but Mora offered no reply. She didn’t have to. She was asking whether Adlet was the impostor or not…and whether he should live or die.
“Of course, I think Adlet did it. We should kill him now,” said Hans.
“I’m against it! Kill Adlet? That’s absolutely out of the question!” Nashetania cried.
“Hmm , Chamo still isn’t sure about Fremy,” said Chamo. “That whole explanation just didn’t click. Well, for now, why don’t we just try torturing Adlet?” She giggled. Was she serious, or was that supposed to be a joke?
“I believe Hans’s logic is correct. But we should wait and see just a bit longer before we kill him,” said Mora.
Then five sets of eyes turned toward Goldof and Fremy, whom the former held in chains. Fremy spoke first. “I have no opinion. You all just do what you want.”
“Fremy.” Adlet ground his teeth. Couldn’t she have helped him out just a little bit—just a tiny, little bit?
“I see. Then, Goldof?” asked Mora.
Goldof closed his eyes and pondered for a while. His grip on Fremy’s bonds slackened.
“Goldof,” sa
id Nashetania. “You understand, don’t you? There’s no way Adlet is our enemy.”
Goldof opened his eyes and said quietly, “This is what I think.” As he spoke, he pulled out the spear slung over his back and instantly closed the distance between himself and Adlet.
“Goldof!” Nashetania yelled.
Adlet jumped to one side in an attempt to escape. He was just a moment too late and barely dodged the spear while Goldof’s large frame still knocked him backward. He slammed into the wall of the temple. While this was going on, Hans was drawing his sword, preparing to leap at Adlet.
In that moment, Adlet’s mind was blank. So what was it that made him act? Was it his warrior instincts? A subconscious reflex? Or was it fate? Adlet’s hand simply moved. The item he pulled from his pouch was one of the finest among his many secret tools. It looked like nothing but a bit of metal wrapped in paper. But when he squeezed it, a special chemical came in contact with the fragment of rare metal within the paper, causing a chemical reaction.
“Wha—!”
An intense light burst forth, many times brighter than staring straight at the sun. Hans and Goldof were powerful opponents—a smoke bomb probably wouldn’t have worked on them. But they wouldn’t be able to respond right away to a new kind of attack. Everyone covered their eyes, cringing.
In that moment, Adlet’s brain whirled furiously, searching for a way to escape this crowd of six. Was the plan he hit upon the correct choice or not? He didn’t have the option of stopping to consider it. Adlet ran to Fremy, whose wrists were still bound by chains, even now that Goldof had moved away from her.
Adlet would do whatever it took to win, use everything available to him. He could never be choosy about his methods. Adlet had declared himself to be the strongest man in the world, and that was what he believed. Whether those convictions were correct or not was another matter—they only underpinned his actions.
By the time the others’ vision had cleared, Adlet had Fremy slung over his shoulder. There was a needle dipped in sleeping serum poking out of her shoulder. Adlet’s sword was pressed against Fremy’s neck. “Nobody move. If you move, I’ll cut her,” he said. The tip of his sword cut a few millimeters deep into the skin of her neck. The five surrounding Adlet all froze.
This was the only way.
Adlet had only two sleeping needles, and none of his other tools could have created such a certain opening for him.
“It can’t be… This is just…” Nashetania’s sword slipped from her hand, and she slumped to the floor.
“The secret is out now, I see,” said Mora.
“M-meow. I didn’t really expect this,” gasped Hans.
Adlet glared at the five Braves around him. The immediate problem was Hans, who blocked the temple entrance. “Get out of the way.”
“Tellin’ me to move is not gonna make me move. I might if you tell me not to, though.”
“Then don’t. Stay right there,” said Adlet.
“What should I do, I wonder?” Hans was quietly looking for an opportunity to separate Adlet’s head from his shoulders. But the world’s strongest man would not give him the opening.
“Let Chamo do it,” said Chamo, twitching her foxtail.
But Mora stopped her. “Wait. Your power would swallow up Fremy as well. We cannot have that.”
“Then what do we do?” Chamo asked.
Growing impatient, Adlet yelled, “Who said you could chat?! Make a decision, Hans! Are you gonna move or not?!”
“M-meow! I get it. I’ll move, so don’t yell at me!” Hans snapped, taking one step away from the door.
Adlet immediately set off his second flash grenade. Everyone else was blinded again. But of course, it wouldn’t be as effective the second time around. Still carrying Fremy, Adlet ran out the door. That was when he felt something slam into him from behind. Hans had thrown his sword, burying it in Adlet’s back. “Ngh! ” This time he threw a smoke bomb to slow down Hans and the others as they chased him. Making use of every single secret tool in his arsenal, Adlet fled. He passed through the pillars of salt and into the forest. He ran and ran from the sound of his pursuers’ footsteps, close on his trail. The pain in his back was intense, but he couldn’t pull out the sword. If he did, blood would spurt from the wound, and he would very quickly be unable to move. Adlet had no choice but to get away with the sword still in his back.
“Damn it…” He’d thought it would be enough to just get out of there. But of course, it wasn’t. After that , none of them would believe he was innocent. But there had been no other way to survive.
How long have I been running? The fog was dyed a thin red that was eventually supplanted by dusk. The sun was setting. Suddenly, Adlet realized he couldn’t hear the footsteps behind him anymore. He stopped where he was, slung Fremy off his back, and sank to the ground. Once he was down, he couldn’t move another step. Oxygen wasn’t reaching his brain, and his thoughts wouldn’t settle. He had to remove the sword and stop the bleeding before Fremy woke, prick her with another sleeping needle, and ready himself for his pursuers to catch up with him. But his body wouldn’t move anymore. He collapsed on the ground. His consciousness grew dim.
“…Hey.” Adlet’s lips barely moved. He was calling out to himself—trying to tell himself that if he passed out, it would all be over. But his consciousness was sinking into darkness as if it were dragging him down. What are you doing, Adlet Mayer? You’re the strongest man in the world, aren’t you? There’s no way you can die here , he silently muttered to himself, and he reached around to his back. His hand tried to extract the blade and then fell limp.
Then he stopped moving.
Hans was sweeping the dark forest, searching for Adlet.
“Hans! We have searched enough for now! The sun has set!” Mora’s voice echoed through the darkness that had enveloped the Phantasmal Barrier.
Hans stopped and replied, “Meow? How can you be so calm about this?”
“’Twould be dangerous to continue any farther. We have no idea what kind of tricks Adlet has up his sleeve. The darkness is his domain.”
“You think I’d let a guy like that beat me? Besides, he’s gonna kill Fremy.”
“Hans, show me your crest. My own is on my back, so I cannot see it myself,” said Mora.
“Why?” Hans pulled up his shirt to show her the crest on his chest.
“Fremy is not dead. If she has not yet perished, that means that Adlet has judged her to be of value as a hostage.”
“Meow can you tell that?”
“Look at your own crest.”
Hans looked down at his chest. It was just as it had been before, faintly glowing.
“I did not have the time to explain earlier,” said Mora, “but there are six petals, are there not? When one of the six Braves falls, one of those petals disappears. This signals to you whether your comrades are alive or dead.”
“I didn’t know that,” remarked Hans.
“Goldof, Chamo, and the princess have returned to the temple. Let us return as well.”
“…” Though Hans’s expression said he wasn’t convinced, he followed Mora back.
When they returned to the temple, the other three were waiting.
“No go,” said Chamo. “We totally lost sight of him. He’s super fast.”
“To move with such speed, even when stabbed in the back… We cannot underestimate him.” Mora sighed. “We have little choice. We will begin our search anew on the morrow. Let’s pray that Fremy remains alive until then,” she said, and she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The others, too, each rested in their preferred ways.
Nashetania was the only one among the group who was curled up, holding her head. “Adlet, why? Why would you do something like that?”
The seventh had been surprised by Adlet’s speed, quick wit, and luck. Escape had seemed impossible, surrounded like that. Perhaps it had been a mistake to judge Adlet as one rung below the rest.
But that would not pose too much o
f a problem. Whatever the case, Adlet was cornered. The impostor would just have to wait until Adlet fell at the hands of his own allies. The seventh would simply watch him struggle in vain for a while. There was no need to rush things.
Around the time the other five gave up pursuit and headed back to the temple, Adlet was lying on the ground, unconscious. In the darkness, he dreamed—an old, wistful dream of his youth.
Adlet raised a stick over his head with a yell. He was trying to hit the boy who stood before him with a little wooden stick wrapped in cotton. But the boy easily dodged his playmate’s attack, striking Adlet’s shoulder with his own stick instead. Adlet let out a cry and dropped his childish weapon.
“Ah-ha-ha! I kicked your butt again!” The boy laughed. His name was Rainer, and he was Adlet’s friend, three years his elder.
They lived in a tiny, ordinary village deep in the mountains of the Land of White Lakes, Warlow. There were about fifty people there who made their living by herding sheep, farming grain, and picking mountain mushrooms. The name of the village was Hasna.
In a corner of a pasture where sheep grazed, Adlet and Rainer practiced sword fighting. They were the only two boys in the village. Whenever they could get a spare moment, they would swing sticks wrapped in cotton at each other. The rumors that the Evil God would soon be revived had spread as far as this remote area. Warlow, Land of White Lakes, was not that far from the Howling Vilelands. The fiends of the Howling Vilelands might well invade this far inland. Such thoughts prompted the boys to organize a defense corps of two.
“Adlet, you’ve gotta get better at this. At this rate, forget fiends. You can’t even beat my mom.” Rainer pulled his utterly bruised friend up off the ground.
“Then maybe your mom should join the defense corps,” Adlet muttered as he rubbed his battered body.
“What’re you talking about? The defense corps is you and me,” said Rainer.
The truth was, Adlet was not enthusiastic about playing defense corps. The fiends weren’t going to come this far anyway, and the Braves of the Six Flowers would defeat the Evil God. Even if fiends did come, the people should just turn tail and run. That was what Adlet thought. But Rainer was his only friend in the world, so Adlet couldn’t turn him down.
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 11