“Your master? You cannot mean…” Mora faltered. Did she know about Atreau? Adlet didn’t have the time to ask.
“This chemical is used to uncover traces of fiends. It changes color in reaction to a unique substance secreted by fiends’ bodies.”
“…?” Mora seemed suspicious.
Without turning around, Adlet said, “Fremy. Give me one of your bullets. Throw it beside me.”
An iron ball rolled over to him. Fremy wanted to hear what he had to say. It seemed she had doubts, though small, about Adlet being the impostor.
His face still on the ground, Adlet opened the stopper of the tiny bottle with one hand. He dripped some of the liquid inside on the bullet. The bullet turned red, and after about thirty seconds, it returned to normal. “Do you think this is a trick?” he asked. “If you do, then you should inspect this carefully. You’ll be able to tell that this substance will, unmistakably, show you where a fiend has been.”
“Just what are you thinking, you monster?” Mora groaned.
“I sprinkled some of this substance on the altar used to activate the barrier, and the altar did not change color,” he said. “Hans saw it, too. And this drug reacts to Fremy.”
“Adlet…” Fremy started to say something and stopped.
“Fremy did not touch the altar once,” Adlet finished. “This is proof that she is a real Brave; proof that she did not activate the barrier.” Now he had demonstrated beyond a doubt that Fremy was not the impostor. Whatever tricks the seventh had up their sleeve, framing Fremy should prove impossible. Even if they tried, Hans would protect her. There was a chance Adlet could have escaped Mora, but he had chosen to protect Fremy instead. He would probably die as a result. But he didn’t regret it—because he had done everything in his power to do what was right.
“Mora, if you’re the seventh,” he said, “take that . I ruined your plan—your plan to frame Fremy as the impostor and get her killed.”
“Fremy, do not be deceived. Do not let him give you strange ideas,” said Mora.
“Fremy, after I die, you find the seventh,” said Adlet. “Hans is a man you can trust. Work with him.”
“Don’t be deceived, Fremy. You understand now, don’t you? He’s been attempting to ensnare you this whole time, showering you with honeyed words to gain your trust. This is simply one more piece of his plot,” Mora warned. Fremy did not reply.
“Adlet.” Mora clenched a fist and readied a strike. “You are quite the man. Even I thought, for one moment, that you might just be genuine.”
“Don’t kill me,” he said. “You’ll regret it—if you’re a real Brave.”
“This is exactly why…why you are so fearsome. If I fail to kill you now, the rest will come to trust you!”
Adlet closed his eyes. He couldn’t dodge Mora’s attack. Now there was no more he could do. Her fist swung down, whooshing as if to cleave the air itself. But just then, another sound cut through the mist—a high-pitched, metallic ring.
“You fool!” Mora yelled.
Adlet opened his eyes and looked behind him. Fremy’s gun was up, white smoke wafting from the muzzle. The bullet had pinged off Mora’s gauntlet.
“Adlet, I’ve hated you since the moment we met.” Her expression was stony, but from one of her eyes fell a single tear. “I hated myself for feeling like I could trust you.”
“Stop, Fremy! Do not be deceived!” cried Mora.
“I still hate you,” Fremy continued. “The more I talk to you, the more I hate you. I end up believing everything you say, even though I swore I would never trust anyone ever again.”
“Fremy!” Mora swung her first downward once more, but Adlet rolled to avoid the attack. “Enough!” said Mora. “Then I am forced to kill Adlet myself!”
Adlet picked up his sword and stood. Now that the situation was reversed, Mora set upon Adlet even more viciously. Fremy threw a small bomb at Mora and yelled, “Run, Adlet!”
As Adlet fled, he thought, Finally. Finally, Fremy and I have come to understand each other. But he was still far from victory. He had to show them all how the impostor could have created the fog.
Chapter 5
When All Is Explained
“You will not escape!” Mora ran, ignoring the minibombs that flew at her. As she brought her fist down, Adlet dodged, and her gauntlet plunged into the earth like a meteorite, leaving a crater. Mora was not an opponent to be underestimated. “Hmph! ” She grabbed a root and yanked, pulling up a whole tree. In one smooth motion, she swung her massive new club at Adlet.
“Watch out!” Fremy cried, and her bullet shattered the tree trunk.
Mora ignored Fremy, focusing exclusively on Adlet. Her attacks were relentless, and every single blow was powerful enough to kill him instantly.
Fremy cut in between the two of them and said to Adlet, “I’ll hold her back. You run.”
“No, you run. Mora is dangerous,” he said. There was a high chance that Mora was the seventh. It would be dangerous to allow her and Fremy to fight alone.
“You’re in my way, Fremy!” bellowed Mora.
Fremy intercepted her charge. Adlet stalled Mora and tried to come up with a way for him and Fremy to get away together, but that was when he sensed a bloodthirsty aura approaching from his side.
“Fremy, move!” commanded a feminine voice. Fremy jumped aside. Adlet rolled away, too. Countless white blades thrust up from the ground where the two of them had been standing.
“You’re late, Princess,” Mora muttered.
In the forest, Nashetania stood with her slim sword raised, a smile on her face. When Adlet saw that look, he thought, She does smile a lot…but there’s something different about her now.
“You understand, right, Adlet?” Fremy said. She aimed her gun at Mora and a bomb at Nashetania. Adlet understood what she was trying to say—that right now, Nashetania was not their ally.
For some reason, after dealing that one attack, Nashetania didn’t move. She stood there, stock-still, with her pasted-on smile. Adlet noticed Goldof behind her. He was watching Adlet, waiting for his chance to strike.
“It was fun, Adlet—those ten days we journeyed together,” Nashetania began. It was as if she had forgotten they were on a battlefield. “I used to think I knew so much, but really, I didn’t know anything at all, did I? I didn’t know how fun it would be to set out on a journey without my coachman or maid. I didn’t know the fear of my first real battle. I didn’t know how confident it would make me feel to have someone beside me to encourage me,” she continued. This was the calm Nashetania he hadn’t seen for so long. Ever since she had found out that there was a seventh, she had been nothing but confused, frightened, and troubled. But now, her expression was bright and clear. “I am grateful for that. Thank you.” A shiver ran down Adlet’s spine.
“So now that I have expressed my gratitude, I’ll be killing you, all right?”
“Run,” whispered Fremy. “Once you get the chance, run as fast as you can. Nashetania is not acting normal right now.” She, too, was afraid of Nashetania. “Listen, Nashetania,” Fremy said, “Hans is safe, and Adlet is not our enemy. Mora is lying.”
“She does not speak truth, Princess,” countered Mora. “Adlet is our enemy. Hans has been gravely wounded. Fremy is merely under his spell.” She sounded uneasy.
“Calm down, Nashetania,” said Fremy. “We still don’t know who the seventh is—but it’s not Adlet.”
“Do not fall for his wheedling. Adlet is a clever liar,” insisted Mora.
Both Fremy and Mora attempted to sway her. Adlet said nothing, just watched Nashetania. He didn’t want to fight. He was wounded and exhausted. The gash he’d gotten from Hans had begun to ache again. The burns he’d suffered during his battle with Fremy hurt. He didn’t have the energy to fight Nashetania.
“You’re listening to this, aren’t you, Goldof?” asked Nashetania. “Don’t attack them just yet.” Her reaction was, in a way, the least desirable one. “Be careful. We cannot kno
w what Fremy might do.” Nashetania had ignored every word.
Mora chuckled, and Fremy gave up trying to convince Nashetania. Adlet prepared himself to fight again. He thought Nashetania might go for another sudden attack. But she just gazed at him, smiling. Mora seemed confused by Nashetania’s lack of action.
“Adlet, what do we do?” asked Fremy.
He was unable to reply. If they could meet up with Hans and Nashetania found out he was okay, she would reconsider. But was Hans really okay? What if Mora was the seventh, or Chamo? What if the seventh had set up another trap for them?
“You can’t think of anything?” Fremy pressed.
“Let’s head to the temple,” said Adlet. “If Hans is okay, we’ll be able to regroup there.”
“But if he’s not okay…”
“We can’t afford to think about that.”
There was one other option—to prove his innocence immediately, right there. If he could reveal the seventh’s entire plan, then this fight would be over. But Adlet still couldn’t deduce where the fog had come from. Think , Adlet told himself. It’s just one last thing to figure out. If he could demonstrate how it had been done—or even if he couldn’t prove it, but could argue something convincing enough—they could avoid a fight.
“I’m trying to think, too…but I don’t have any ideas,” said Fremy, frustrated. He couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t think of anything, either.
“Adlet, I’m waiting,” Nashetania said suddenly. Her cheerful tone was absolutely dissonant, considering the situation.
“For what?” asked Adlet.
“Your confession and penance,” she said as she pointed the tip of her sword at him. “I know that when you catch someone who has done wrong, before they die, they confess and repent, right? I think that’s what the head maid said.”
Sounding exasperated, Mora chastised her. “Princess, you are somewhat ignorant in the ways of the world. Not every criminal confesses and repents.”
“Is that right?” Nashetania seemed puzzled. She tilted her head and pondered the situation. “Then I may kill him, right?” Instantly, blades popped up all around Adlet.
“!” The young warrior failed to dodge the attack entirely, and his shoulder was sliced open. The blade had been so sharp he hadn’t even felt any pain. One moment she’d been waiting patiently, and the next she’d gone straight for the kill with zero hesitation. He couldn’t read her. He couldn’t imagine what she might throw at him.
“Here he comes!” Fremy shot at Goldof, who was charging at her, spear raised. The bullet hit Goldof’s armor, sending him flying back. But once he landed, he immediately began another assault.
“What is that armor?” Fremy was shocked. Goldof’s armor was special, but Goldof himself was even more so. Fremy’s gun should have hurt him despite the armor.
Goldof thrust his spear out, and Adlet and Fremy leaped off to either side. Mora took advantage of the moment to make a grab at Fremy, and Nashetania’s sword stabbed toward Adlet’s heart.
“Nashetania! I will hold Fremy in check! You and Goldof kill Adlet!” yelled Mora.
But Fremy would not allow that, scattering tiny bombs from beneath her cloak. The blast forced Mora back, and the smoke clouded Goldof’s field of vision.
“Why are you getting in our way?” Goldof asked Fremy, though he chose not to press further and focused on targeting Adlet alone.
But Fremy instantly reloaded and fired at the knight’s feet. The bullet did not pierce his armor, but Goldof lost his balance and fell to the ground. “I’ll hold these two back! Run, Adlet!” she cried.
Adlet wavered. He had only just declared that he would protect Fremy, and now he was going to leave her and run off alone? But he was exhausted and had few weapons left. There was little chance he could still win a fight, even if it was one-on-one. “I will keep you safe, Fremy! I’m the strongest man in the world!” Adlet shouted as he made his escape.
Fremy smiled oh so faintly, as if to say, That again?
Adlet ran through the hazy forest. His goal was the temple and Hans.
“You won’t get away!” Nashetania was hard on his heels. She unleashed attacks on him, one after another, from the earth and from tree trunks.
Adlet was headed toward the temple. Right now, Nashetania believed that Adlet had left Hans on death’s doorstep. If he could correct that misunderstanding, he should be able to end the fight. He threw a smoke bomb behind him to obstruct Nashetania’s field of vision and tossed pain needles to slow her down. He would use each of his few remaining tools. He just had to reach the temple somehow. Once they found Hans, this battle with Nashetania would be over.
“Goldof! Mora! What are you doing?!” Nashetania yelled over her shoulder. But she received no reply. Just as Fremy had promised, she was holding the other two in check. Now Adlet knew he could get away.
The sun had already begun to set. They had been trapped in the forest for nearly a whole day, and it had been a long battle. All the other Braves had chased Adlet while he carried Fremy over his shoulder. He had fought Hans and skirmished with Chamo, and after that, Fremy had almost killed him. Every time, Adlet had been injured. His body was nearing its limit. But this encounter would be the last. If he could get away this time, he would be able to rest for a while. He would meet up with Hans, and make Nashetania stop attacking him, and then the three of them could go help Fremy.
Adlet still didn’t know who the seventh was, and neither did he know how the fog had been created. But Hans and Fremy were on his side. He could make everyone stop fighting and get them to talk instead.
After the string of smoke bombs, Nashetania completely lost sight of Adlet. At this point, he had used up nearly all the tools from his pouches. But that wouldn’t be a problem. The temple was close. Adlet yelled, “Hans!”
No answer. He could see no sign of anyone near the temple.
“Hans! Are you there? If you are, come out!” Could he be inside? wondered Adlet, and he called out to Hans again and again. But still, nothing. “Where’d you go? Hans! Chamo! Where have you gone?!” Adlet looked at the crest on his right hand. All six of the petals were still on the flower, so all six members, including Hans and Chamo, were still alive. But where had they gone? Had they fallen for one of the seventh’s traps? Or had Chamo left Hans on the brink of death?
“Who are you looking for? You’re the one who felled Hans.” Nashetania’s outline swayed as she appeared from the forest.
“Why? Where did they go?” Adlet muttered. Or…could it be? Was Hans the seventh? Had Hans been patiently waiting for Nashetania do his dirty work?
Nashetania attacked. Adlet jumped up and ran across the roof of the temple, escaping to the opposite side. There was no time to reequip himself.
“Wait, you!” she ordered.
Adlet had to get away. But where should he run? How could he escape? He had no more tools.
As darkness gradually fell, Adlet ran desperately through the forest. But his wounds were grave, his exhaustion extreme, and he was already running out of energy.
“There you are!” Nashetania mercilessly ran him down. How long could he continue to evade her attacks? He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
“You’re still going to run?!” she called after him.
Adlet had already given up on finding Hans. There was only one option left: to solve the mystery of the seventh, to reveal the truth to Nashetania and prove he wasn’t the impostor. That was the only way. But Adlet couldn’t solve the problem of the mist. He wouldn’t be able to convince Nashetania unless he could explain the mystery and prove what had happened.
Adlet thought. How could they have created fog? Fog. Fog. Fog. Fog. Fog. As he turned it over in his mind, his movements slackened. One of Nashetania’s blades pierced his side. Adlet crumpled against a tree trunk.
“I’ve finally caught you.” Nashetania slowly faded into view.
When Adlet saw her face, he remembered the day they had departed together on their jou
rney. He’d been surprised when he’d first seen her. He’d never imagined that a princess would pretend to be a maid to come see him. Back then, he’d figured he’d just made a good friend. He’d felt that if they were together, he needn’t fear the Evil God. Why is this happening? he wondered. Someone who was supposed to be on his side was attacking him, and he was about to lose his life.
“Listen, Nashetania,” he said.
“To what?”
“I’m your ally.”
Nashetania giggled and pointed her sword at him. Its blade extended to pierce Adlet’s ear. “It’s far too late for that sort of nonsense.” Nashetania was smiling but regarded him as if he were vermin.
I didn’t know she was capable of an expression like that , thought Adlet. When they’d first met, she’d seemed so cheerful and lighthearted. But she was also a warrior worthy of being chosen as a Brave—of course she’d have fangs.
“You’re a fool,” she said. “If you had only surrendered and confessed, you could have had an easier death.”
“I’m not gonna confess to anything. I haven’t done a single thing wrong,” said Adlet. He knew she wasn’t going to listen.
She hadn’t been like this when they first met. She had been bubbly and fun. Chomping raw carrots and half-jokingly tossing blades at him. What had they talked about then? Oh, about the Brave-killer. He couldn’t have imagined that very killer would become one of his allies.
The Brave-killer. When Adlet remembered that word, something about it bothered him. But the flash of insight failed to take shape and instead instantly disappeared.
“It’s no use,” said Nashetania. “You won’t deceive me again. You hatched a plan to trick us. You fooled us all and even hurt us. It’s quite clear that you are the impostor.”
“I’m not lying. You’re the one getting tricked. The enemy is using you to try to kill me.” But she wasn’t listening. “I haven’t killed any of our allies,” he insisted. “I’m not scheming to trap everyone, either.”
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 1 Page 19