“I thought that they were a more unified lot,” said Mora.
“The internal affairs of fiends are complicated. Far more complicated than you think.”
“I see.”
“Don’t you have any information?” asked Fremy. “We have a human siding with the Evil God. You had no inkling of anything about that?”
“I did not. I suppose I must be ridiculed for my incompetence.” Mora sighed. “Bits of information did reach me. I had heard that some were making deals with fiends and that the monsters had abducted entire villages. But I judged both of these rumors to be false, though I had nothing to substantiate that assumption. Had I fulfilled my duties more thoroughly, I could have prevented this situation.” Mora put a hand to her forehead. Her expression revealed regret.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it. It’s not your responsibility.”
“Oh? So you are capable of being kind,” said Mora smiling. Then she patted Fremy’s head. “Adlet did do one good thing. He brought you to us. Though it may only have been a part of his plot, it was good nonetheless.”
“Don’t treat me like a child.”
“From my perspective, you are a child.”
Fremy shook her head, sweeping aside Mora’s hand.
“It matters not that you were the Brave-killer,” said Mora. “You were simply following orders. When a soldier kills on the battlefield, they are charged with no crime. Though it seems the princess and Goldof are not convinced, in time they will come to understand.”
“…”
“Chamo will warm up to you soon, too. She may be a troublemaker, but she’s not a bad child. As for Hans, just leave him be. There is no need for you to build walls around yourself because you were the Brave-killer or the daughter of a fiend.”
Fremy was silent for a while, refusing to look at Mora. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time chatting. Let’s track down Adlet,” she said, and she broke into a run.
Mora followed after her. “I know there are some things weighing on your mind when it comes to Adlet, since he was the only one who tried to help you when you were under suspicion.” Fremy did not reply. “But you cannot go easy on him,” Mora continued. “He is our enemy—and one frighteningly prone to foul play, to boot.”
“Relax. I hate him from the bottom of my heart,” said Fremy.
“That’s the spirit. As soon as we find him, kill him. Be sure to kill him, Fremy.” Be sure to kill him , Mora emphasized over and over. She repeated it so many times, her persistence began irritating the former Brave-killer.
Nashetania and Goldof were near the border of the barrier, at the end of the road that led to the Howling Vilelands, where the Braves of the Six Flowers were supposed to have gathered. Mora and Hans had been waiting there until the day before.
“Can you hear anything from the direction of the temple?” asked Goldof.
“No, nothing,” Nashetania replied. “But never mind that. We have to search for Adlet.”
Hidden in the broad thicket by the side of the path was a pit. It looked like Mora and Hans had been hiding there. Her expression grave, Nashetania searched the pit, but she was the only one pursuing the matter with such fervor. Goldof did nothing but stand and scowl.
“It’s no good,” said Nashetania as she emerged from the pit. “Hans and Mora were most definitely here, but that was all I could find out. Hans must have received some kind of information from the fiends here, but there are no signs that any approached this area.” Nashetania scratched her head. “I want to meet with Mora. Though I wonder if she will listen. She believes that Adlet is the seventh. How can I convince her?”
“Your Highness…”
“I’m angry at myself. I am unable to do anything or think of anything, even though they could be killing Adlet right this minute!”
“Your Highness, stop it already, please!” shouted Goldof, unable to stand it any longer.
Nashetania glared at him. “I thought you said you trusted me.”
“Adlet is our enemy! You may say what you will, but that will not change!”
“That’s enough. If you don’t trust me, then I will just have to go after him by myself!” Nashetania said, but she immediately put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Goldof. That was going too far.” Her expression was sorrowful. “I cannot believe this. I never imagined we would have a shouting match like this, not ever.”
Goldof also looked pained. The moment Nashetania turned her back to him, the dam broke. “Your Highness, why Adlet?”
“Huh?”
“Why do you trust him and not me, who has served you ever since my youth?”
“What do you mean?” asked Nashetania.
“Pardon my saying so, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen you like this,” he said. “You’ve been acting wild, when you’ve always been so much more composed. You’re not yourself! Something has changed you!” Nashetania was dumbfounded. “Just what is he to you?!” Goldof demanded. “How can you be so concerned with this—this outlaw who barged into the Tournament Before the Divine, this oaf who came from who knows where whom you have known for only a short journey of ten days?!”
Nashetania looked at Goldof, her face overcome with surprise. “No, you are not yourself.”
“Your Highness, I—”
“What are you talking about, Goldof? The fate of the world hangs in the balance with this battle, and it’s only just begun. The life of one of our allies is in danger. How could I act normally?”
“I—I—”
“Adlet is our ally. He is a valuable comrade in our fight as we stand together against the Evil God. What did you think it was besides that?”
“…”
“You’re not yourself,” said Nashetania. “I apologize, but this is not the time to be making concessions to your jealousy.”
“You’re right. I should be protecting you. I haven’t been myself.” Goldof was looking at the ground. He was so humiliated he was trembling.
“Goldof, I noticed your feelings quite some time ago. But now is not the time. It really is not the time.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Let us forget this conversation,” she said.
“As you wish.”
Nashetania breathed a quiet sigh. “So even you can lose your composure at times. Of course, you’re still only sixteen. Still a child. I had thought of you as someone I could rely on, so I had forgotten.”
“…”
“We don’t understand each other as well as I had thought, I suppose.” Nashetania returned to her search, and Goldof stood there, paralyzed. Her manner gave him the impression that there was now a large rift in their master-servant relationship.
“Hey, let’s search the whole temple through one more time,” proposed Hans.
Adlet and Hans went into the temple together and checked again to see if there were any possible exits or hidden doors. But they couldn’t find anything, not even a trace. As they searched, Adlet was a little cautious around Hans. If they couldn’t find anything, maybe Hans might decide Adlet was the seventh, after all.
Hans nimbly clung to the ceiling, checking to make sure nothing was strange about any of it. “Hmmmeow. There’s got to be somethin’,” he said. It didn’t look like Hans was reconsidering his judgment. He didn’t even seem leery of Adlet.
That made Adlet a little suspicious himself—maybe Hans actually was the seventh, and he was just watching to see what Adlet would do.
“What’re ya doin’?” asked Hans. “Yer the one in trouble here. Keep lookin’.”
“Y-you’re right. Sorry.” Flustered, Adlet returned to his task of examining the floor. It was a frightening thing, for one among them to be an impostor. It made them unable to trust even those they should trust most. For the time being, Adlet couldn’t afford to doubt Hans. He had no choice but to bet that Hans was really one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.
“Nope, no exits here,” Hans said as he released his grip on the ceiling and landed on th
e floor. They had investigated the entire floor and every wall, and all they had learned was that there was no way out. “I’ve got no idea,” said Hans. “If yer not the seventh, that means somebody must have come in here before you did. But there’s no way in. What does this mean?”
“It must have been a Saint, after all,” said Adlet. “She had the power to create a way out, or the power to pass through walls. Or even a power that would allow her to close a door once it had been opened.”
“But Mora said there weren’t no Saints like that. So does that mean we should be suspectin’ her?” asked Hans.
Mora had asserted that she was informed as to the powers of every single Saint. She had also said that even a Saint would have been unable to enter the temple without leaving a trace of her passage. There was the possibility that she had been lying.
“That’d be premature,” said Adlet. “There might be one with abilities that Mora doesn’t know about. The eighth could be one of the Saints that Mora knows—she’s just hiding some of her abilities.”
“True. But then…that means this is a stalemeowt.”
“Yeah… Oops, I almost forgot.” Adlet opened up the iron box that he’d left in a corner of the temple. Fleeing from the others and fighting with Hans had used up all of Adlet’s tools. He had to restock in preparation for the next battle.
“Ya sure have a lot of stuff. Ain’t there anythin’ we could use? Like some kinda lie detector?” asked Hans as he peered into the iron box.
“All I brought with me are tools to fight fiends. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve brought other stuff, too.” That was when Adlet found an iron bottle tucked away at the very bottom of his box. He pulled it out and started thinking.
“What’s up?” asked Hans. “Figured out who the seventh is?”
“No…not exactly, but…” Adlet thought some more. Then he pulled the stopper from the little spray bottle with red liquid inside. He spritzed some of it on the altar.
“What’re ya doin’?”
“Oh, this isn’t anything that major, but…”
“What?” Hans examined the little bottle.
Just as Adlet was about to explain, they heard a faint sound from outside the temple. Hans immediately ran outside, and Adlet stowed the bottle away in one of his belt pouches. “Has someone come back?” Adlet poked his face out the broken door, looking around the area.
Hans gave him a wave to signal that there was no trouble. “They might come back soon,” he said.
“We should hurry.”
The two of them searched the outside of the temple for any indicator that there was a way in. As before, they found nothing—no traces of anything unnatural and no footprints. They didn’t even get a faint feeling that something was out of place.
“What’re we gonna do meow, though?” asked Hans. “Things ain’t gonna be so great once the others come back.”
“We could give up searching here and look for the eighth,” Adlet suggested.
“Just at random?” Hans replied. “I’d like to find some kinda clue, at least.”
Adlet leaned against a pillar of salt, closed his eyes, and reflected. He couldn’t find any proof that the eighth even existed, to say nothing of clues as to the conspirator’s identity. But the eighth had to exist, because when Adlet had walked into the temple, the barrier had already been up. Someone had initiated it beforehand. When the barrier activated, Fremy, Nashetania, and Goldof had all been together. Hans and Mora had been together. Only one of them had been alone.
“Maybe Chamo?” Adlet speculated. She’d wandered into the temple on her own. No one could prove what she’d been doing or where she’d been before that.
But even if she had no alibi, that didn’t change the fact that it would have been impossible for Chamo to enter the temple. Either way, Adlet wouldn’t be able to resolve anything without finding a way someone could have broken into the temple.
“By the way,” said Hans, “we were all in a rush, so I didn’t get the chance to ask ya somethin’…”
“What?”
“How d’ya turn on this barrier? I didn’t stop by the fort, so I don’t really know.”
“So Mora didn’t tell you? The barrier…,” Adlet began, and then he stopped. Lights flickered on in his head. What Hans had said was important.
“What is it?” asked Hans.
Adlet racked his brain to recall everything from the time he’d entered the fort until the present, including every single word each of them had exchanged. And he was convinced that his flash of insight was on the mark. “Chamo.”
“She’s the seventh?”
“No. There’s something I want to ask her,” said Adlet. “Where is she now?”
“Chamo should be playin’ around here somewhere. I’m too much of a scaredy-cat to call her, though.”
“It wouldn’t be good for me to be seen here, I’m sure. You go. Just ask her one thing.”
“Ask her what?”
“Well…” Adlet was about to tell him what the question was when he caught sight of a big earthworm right in front of them. It was gliding over the ground with unbelievable speed, heading into the forest. A moment passed, and then a voice called out from the direction that the creature had gone.
“Chamo’s right here.” The young Saint came over to them, her foxtail swaying in her right hand. “Wasn’t this guy the fake, catboy? Why’re you guys just chatting casually?”
Hans panicked and stood in front of Adlet. “Meow. Don’t attack him, Chamo. I’ve found out he’s not the enemy.”
“That sounds weird. Why not?”
“Well—”
“If it’s gonna be a long story, don’t bother.” Chamo cut him off. “Chamo doesn’t really care, anyway.”
Hans was confused. Adlet didn’t know what Chamo was thinking, either. Did she even want to find the seventh?
“Being stuck here sucks,” said Chamo. “It’s boring being alone, and there’s nothing to play with. Chamo wants to get out now and go kill fiends.”
“I get it,” said Adlet. “Me too. So there’s something I want to ask you. This is really important so we can find out who’s the seventh.”
But Chamo just gave him a bored pout. “Chamo’s sick of that stuff about who’s the fake and who’s real or whatever.” She raised her foxtail and smiled faintly. As she did, goose bumps raised on Adlet’s skin. “It’s probably you, Adlet. Then if it’s not you, Fremy. Then if it’s not her, catboy. If it’s not him, then obviously it’s the princess and the big guy. Auntie Mora couldn’t be the seventh, so Chamo won’t kill her.”
“Wait, Chamo! What are you talking about?!” Adlet yelled, and as he did, he reflexively drew his sword. Hans, too, arched his back in a catlike fighting stance.
“If you all die, there’s no enemy. Just Chamo alone is enough to beat one lame Evil God.” Chamo’s foxtail moved. She put the tip into her mouth and pushed it to the back of her throat. She made a retching noise and gagged dramatically. Soon Chamo was vomiting loudly, spewing black and brown mixed with dirty green onto the ground. The amount was unnatural—ten times more than the volume of her small frame.
“Meow—m-meow! ” Hans cried out in fear.
The vomit was taking shape into a gigantic snake, a leech, a frog, and a lizard—the forms of fiends that lived in the water.
“Time to explain. There’s a swamp in Chamo’s stomach. All the creatures Chamo’s ever eaten live together in harmony in a swamp inside,” she explained as she wiped the drool off with her sleeve. The fiends rushed Adlet and Hans all at once.
“Run! ” cried Hans.
“I’m with you there!” agreed Adlet.
The two of them turned without a moment’s hesitation. But there were even more fiends waiting for them in the forest. Adlet and Hans ran back the other way, passing through the pillars of salt. But the fiends Chamo had spat up disregarded the barrier, rushing in to attack Adlet and Hans. There were nearly fifty of the regurgitated creatures surro
unding the temple.
“We’ve got no choice!” Adlet yelled. Now they could do nothing but fight. Adlet pulled a bomb from one of his pouches and tossed it into the mouth of a snake-fiend. Hans whirled through the air to cut off the head of an attacking lizard, but in moments, the fiends revived as if the assault had been nothing at all. The two men cooperated to bring down a water spider that sprang at them, but when Adlet and Hans tore off its eight legs, they grew back again instantly.
“What in the heck is this?” groaned Hans. “How can we fight meownsters like these?” Adlet finally understood why Fremy was so terrified of Chamo.
The fiends from Chamo’s stomach lined up in a row and then curved into a circle. Now there was nowhere for the pair to run.
“Stop screwing around, Chamo!” yelled Adlet. “Why’re you attacking Hans, too?!”
“Why not?” she said. “You can’t prove he’s not a fake, too.”
“You idiot! What are you thinking?!” Adlet was enraged.
But the look on Chamo’s face told him she didn’t even get why he was so mad. “Here’s an idea. Chamo kills you, and then if the barrier goes away, catboy doesn’t need to die.”
Adlet looked at Hans. Hans smiled wryly and said, “Don’t worry. That ain’t gonna happen.” Hans pointed his sword at Chamo.
“Hans,” said Adlet. “If there’s no getting out of this, you should escape, at least.”
“Screw that. Don’t you start tryin’ to act the heroic martyr.”
The two of them charged at Chamo. She smiled and vomited up even more fiends.
Trapped within a ring of demons, Adlet and Hans fought. Chamo stood between them in the center of the ring, her arms crossed.
Chamo was their only target. There was no point in trying to fight her fiends. But no matter how many times they charged, one monster after another stood in their way. They even blocked Adlet’s projectiles with their own bodies.
“Attacking separately isn’t gonna work! We’ve gotta work together!” shouted Adlet.
“Meow! I know! You come up with somethin’!”
The two of them split up and then came at her from either side. Adlet drew her attention while Hans circled around behind her. Neither of their attacks connected. Each fiend moved independently. There was no point trying to catch Chamo off guard.
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 15