“Y-yes, but…”
“Princess, the world ain’t as righteous as ya think. A lot of notable people from yer kingdom come to meow with requests.”
“That can’t be!” Nashetania sounded scandalized.
“Well, none of this goin’ on about assassins meowters. I’m continuin’ my story. Meow?”
Adlet nodded. He felt bad for Nashetania, but this assassin business was a separate issue.
“When I was chosen, I was pretty close to the Howlin’ Vilelands,” Hans continued. “First, I got meowself an audience with the king of this country and negotiated pay for killin’ the Evil God. The king’s a pretty generous fellow. He offered a big chunka cash in advance. So then I hid the money and came out here to the Howlin’ Vilelands, and that’s when I ran into Mora.”
“You negotiated pay? Before fighting?” asked Adlet.
“I don’t kill nothin’ unless I’m gettin’ paid for it. You folks ain’t doin’ this for free, are ya?”
Adlet had never even considered getting paid for defeating the Evil God.
“So you didn’t know about the barrier?” asked Goldof.
“Meow? The king said somethin’ about the fort, I guess. Well, I figured that stuff had nothin’ to do with me, so I ignored it. I first heard about the barrier from Mora.”
That’s a little weird, thought Adlet. It’d be important to know about the barrier, wouldn’t it? He didn’t find Hans’s explanation for meeting up with Mora without going to the fort convincing. For the time being, though, he decided to keep his doubts to himself and hear Hans out.
“I got nothin’ to say about what happened after that. I saw there was an explosion, so I came to the temple,” he finished.
Then Chamo asked what Adlet had been wondering this whole time. “Hey, why do you talk like that?”
“Ma-meow! So you’ve been payin’ attention,” Hans said, stroking his head with a fist just like a cat. Then he did an aerial somersault and said, “My style o’ combat is based on cats. I came up with my techniques by imitatin’ how they move. I guess you could say that cats were my meowsters. As a sign o’ respect, I make a habit of imitatin’ them in how I talk, too.”
“This set of Braves is a strange lot,” Mora grumbled.
“No kidding.” Adlet nodded.
“Look who’s talkin’, Mr. Dumbest-in-the-world,” said Hans, laughing.
Now that Hans’s story was over, eyes gathered on their final member. Having been chained up by Goldof, Fremy had been listening in silence as the others talked.
“So then…Fremy, is it?” asked Mora. “You won’t get away with saying you don’t want to speak. If you hold back, know that it will worsen your position.”
“How could it get any worse than this?” Fremy spat, and then she fell silent. The silence persisted for short while, but eventually, she slowly began speaking. “I’m the child of a fiend and a human.”
All present, aside from Chamo and Goldof, gasped.
“Goldof, remove my eye patch and the cloth from my head,” she said.
Goldof complied, exposing Fremy’s bright-pink right eye. In the center of her forehead, there was a mark left by the horn that was proof she was a fiend. It had been broken off at the root, though, and all that remained was a scar.
“Oh yeah, your horn’s gone. Did you break it off yourself?” asked Chamo.
Fremy did not reply, relating her history instead. “About twenty years ago, a band of fiends left the Howling Vilelands to infiltrate the human realm. They decided to create a pawn to oppose the Braves of the Six Flowers in preparation for the revival of the Evil God. That was me.”
“…”
“My father was human. I never knew his face. Once my mother conceived, she killed him. I was born from a fiend mother and raised as one of them. My mother and the other fiends abducted large numbers of humans and forced them to construct a new temple for the worship of the Spirit of Gunpowder. That was where I got my power as the Saint of Gunpowder.”
“So…,” commented Mora.
“I lived up to my mother’s expectations and became a powerful warrior,” Fremy continued. “And then I went around killing powerful humans on my mother’s orders. It was for the sake of the revival of the Evil God. I felt no remorse. Though half human, I thought of myself as a full-fledged fiend. I believed the Evil God was a great being that would protect and guide us.”
“So then, why are you here? Why have you decided to defeat the Evil God?” asked Mora. The answer to that question was the crux of her story.
“Even if I were to tell you, I doubt you’d believe me.”
“If you don’t speak, we can neither believe nor disbelieve.”
Mora and Fremy glared at each other, and then Chamo cut in. “She doesn’t have to say anything. Chamo’s gonna kill her anyway. It’s all true, right? We know the impostor is Fremy.”
“Don’t, Chamo. We don’t know that,” said Adlet.
Chamo gave Adlet an innocent look, but there was muted anger behind her eyes. “What’s your name again? You’re a pain in the butt. Didn’t your mom ever tell you that you don’t tell Chamo what to do?”
“Whatever, who cares?” said Adlet.
“You should. You can’t talk back to Chamo,” she snapped.
“Chamo! Listen to Fremy’s story now!” Mora scolded the girl, and Chamo obeyed. Adlet was grateful for Mora’s presence. He didn’t even want to consider what would be happening if she weren’t around.
“Please tell us, Fremy. Why did you end up opposing the Evil God?” asked Nashetania.
But Fremy just gave them all a cold stare. “You heard Chamo. She said I don’t have to tell you anything. I don’t want to talk about it, either.” With that, Fremy shut her mouth entirely. Even when Adlet asked her to speak, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Ultimately, Mora seemingly grew impatient and changed the subject. “Wasting our time any further on self-introductions is meaningless. The more important matter at hand is
