“All right,” said Fremy.
“First, I would like to ask you something. Did you know about this trap?”
“No.”
“You have not heard fiends talk to one another of any of this?” Mora asked.
“Is this an interrogation?”
Mora put her hands on Fremy’s shoulders and said, “Wait. Don’t misunderstand me. It’s no surprise that you are cautious around us, due to what occurred yesterday, but we doubt you no more.”
“Oh? What about Hans? And Chamo?” Fremy sounded skeptical.
“Let me amend myself. I doubt you no more. I believe you are our valued comrade.”
“I see.” The pressure of Mora’s gaze caused Fremy to lower her own a few degrees. “Sorry, but I don’t know anything. Fiends split off into their own small units, and there’s almost no interaction between each cell.”
“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,
