“I can’t understand that,” said Fremy. “Whether you’re a real Brave or the seventh.”
“D-don’t get me wrong, Fremy. It’s not like I like you or anything.”
“I wasn’t talking about that. Don’t be gross,” Fremy spat. “I can’t understand it. I just can’t understand you at all,” she said, and then she abruptly stood. “I’m going back to the temple. The other five will probably be there.”
“You’re going?” he asked.
“Of course.” Fremy’s outline disappeared into the darkness.
Adlet had thought that by talking about their pasts, they had come to understand each other a little. But maybe that, too, had only been momentary delusion. Adlet called into the darkness, “Won’t you come with me?”
Fremy stopped and thought for a moment. “We may have talked a lot, but ultimately, that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most suspicious of all of us.”
“I see.”
“But I would be willing to hear you out, just once.” From the darkness, Fremy threw something at him. It was a tiny firecracker of rounded gunpowder. “That was made with my power…the power of the Spirit of Gunpowder. When you strike it on the ground, it explodes. If you set it off, I will know where it happened.”
“So you’re saying I can use this to summon you?” asked Adlet.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t trust you. The next time we meet might be when I kill you.”
“…”
“To use it or not is up to you,” said Fremy, and she disappeared into the darkness.
Adlet stared into the night as he thought. After having spoken with Fremy, he was certain of one thing: She was absolutely not his enemy. It wasn’t logic that inspired this certainty, but his heart. He wanted to protect her—from the Evil God, and also from the seventh. “I’ll protect you, Fremy. And not just you—I’ll protect Nashetania and the others. I’ll protect everyone.” He got no reply.
Adlet lay down and gazed at the dark, fog-covered sky. As he did, his thoughts returned to the past. Five years ago, during his time training with Atreau, slowly edging closer and closer to becoming the strongest man in the world, Adlet had, just once, returned to his home village. The entire area had been nothing but a burned field. Nothing remained. Not the places he’d played with his friend or the house where he’d lived with Schetra—nothing. The scorched remnants of his village told him that what was gone would not return.
Adlet believed that he’d grown stronger not for the sake of revenge. He didn’t fight out of hatred. He had become a warrior because he didn’t want to lose everything again.
But despite those feelings, the ones he wanted to protect weren’t cooperating.
Chapter 4
Counteroffensive
Meanwhile, the seventh was privately thinking that killing Adlet personally wouldn’t be the best strategy. The impostor wanted to leave the task to one of the other Braves of the Six Flowers, if possible. Then if things went well, they would be able to blame everything on the one who’d done the deed. Even if the impostor wasn’t able to pull that off, Adlet’s death would still tear a wide rift in the bonds of trust between the six Braves. The seventh just had to stay vigilant and use that failure of trust to lead the group to an irreparable falling-out.
The seventh didn’t know what was going to happen. The important thing was to be flexible—to observe the situation closely and use whatever was at hand without getting too attached to any single idea. And most of all, avoiding suspicion was crucial. If the seventh could manage that, victory was assured.
Now then, who would kill Adlet…?
When Fremy returned to the temple, Chamo, Nashetania, and Hans were already asleep. Mora and Goldof were standing watch outside.
“So you live. What happened to Adlet?” asked Mora.
“I lost him,” said Fremy. “He was wounded, and while I would have liked to capture him, I didn’t have my gun.”
“I see,” Mora replied. “You should sleep. You can talk more about it tomorrow morning.”
When Fremy walked into the temple, Goldof called out to her. “I’m sorry for suspecting you,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter. Any normal person would have,” she replied.
Eventually, dawn broke. Fremy told the other five about what had happened after Adlet carried her away. And then she told them about herself, and in particular, her reason for fighting the Evil God.
“Fiends are such heartless creatures.” Mora knit her brows.
“What an awful story,” said Chamo. “If it’s true.”
“Chamo, you still suspect Fremy? The truth has already become clear—Fremy is an indispensable member of our team,” Mora chided her, but Chamo just giggled.
“Meow-hee-hee,” chuckled Hans. “I’m feelin’ a little uneasy ’bout this, though. Should we really think she’s one of us?”
“Hans, you too? How can you say that?” puzzled Mora.
“Didja actually fight with Adlet?” Hans asked Fremy. “That sword I threw at him sank in pretty deep, ya know?”
“It missed his vitals,” Fremy replied. “Your arm isn’t as good as your mouth.”
“Adlet really seemed to take a likin’ to ya. When everyone was suspicious of ya, he protected ya. When Chamo said she was gonna torture ya, he got mad and stopped her. It’s no surprise yer feelin’ attracted to him.”
“You’re so obnoxious.”
“Meow-hee-hee, the heart of a woman is an eternal meowstery. Yer mouth and yer heart aren’t singin’ the same tune.”
“Hans, be silent for one moment,” ordered Mora. Hans made an exaggerated display of his shock and then shut his mouth. “I have doubts as well,” she continued. “What did you think of Adlet, Fremy? What was your impression when you found out he was the seventh?”
“I thought, Ah, I knew it,”
