Once the fight was over, Adlet was so exhausted he just didn’t say anything for a while. Hans was the same. They were tired—just incredibly tired.
“My back hurts,” Hans muttered.
The two of them lay collapsed on the ground beside Chamo for a long while.
“So what are we gonna do? What’re we gonna do?” they asked each other.
They both looked at Chamo where she lay on the ground. She was glaring at Adlet with the expression of a child who had gotten up to no good, been scolded for it, and was now sulking, as if saying, You don’t have to get so mad at me.
When she’s not fighting, she really is just a kid, thought Adlet. “I don’t think Chamo is the seventh,” he said.
“Me neither,” agreed Hans.
The seventh was most likely an exceedingly well-prepared and cautious person. The way Chamo acted, on the other hand, was incredibly shortsighted and careless. Of course, Adlet couldn’t say anything for sure.
“Meow. Since we’ve come to this temple, we’ve done nothin’ but fight our own allies.”
“You’re right. This seventh is a pain in the butt.” Adlet stood. There was no time to waste. The others who were out searching for Adlet would soon be returning to the temple.
“So what was yer question for Chamo?” asked Hans. “I don’t think she can reply all tied up, though.”
“It’s okay. It’s just a yes-or-no question.” Adlet stood beside Chamo. As she continued glaring at him, he asked, “Just answer this one thing. You can just shake or nod your head. Please.” Chamo didn’t look happy but seemed willing to reply. “Do you know how to activate the Phantasmal Barrier?” he asked.
Chamo gave him a blank stare. She looked as if she didn’t know why he was even asking her that question. She nodded.
“Did you know how to activate the barrier before you met us in this temple?”
Chamo quietly shook her head.
About fifteen minutes after their battle with Chamo had ended, Adlet dashed through the misty forest, attempting to keep his footsteps quiet. He was heading eastward from the temple. When he looked up at the sky, he saw the time was past noon. The sun had begun its descent.
“Ngh.” With every jump from branch to branch, his back sent a jolt of pain through his body. He was unable to make sound landings or quiet ones. The sword wound from the previous day still hurt. He was out of painkillers, and his battles with Hans and Chamo had made the injury worse. He was wounded and tired, and the pain doubled his exhaustion.
“Keep holding on, Adlet,” he told himself.
Hans, his only comrade, wasn’t with him. Hans had stayed with Chamo in the temple to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t get out of control again—and also to protect her from the seventh. The wildly powerful Chamo bound and helpless on the floor was the perfect chance for the seventh. Though it was discouraging not to be able to fight alongside Hans, they had no choice.
Adlet scanned the area, checking to make sure there was no one nearby, and then pulled the firecracker from one of his pouches. It was the firecracker that Fremy had handed him the previous night, the one that would alert her to his position. He deliberated for a moment, then struck the firecracker against the trunk of a tree, making it explode. After that, he concealed himself high in the tree and waited for Fremy.
Adlet had an idea—a clue as to how to break out of the seventh’s trap.
Fremy and Mora were on the northern side of the forest, running toward the temple. Fremy said, “I’m sure. That was the sound of Chamo fighting.”
Mora replied, “But we cannot hear it now. Either she let him escape, or the battle is over.”
“Chamo would never lose. Besides, Hans is there, too.”
“But I can hear no signal. What is the meaning of this?” wondered Mora.
The groups hunting Adlet had decided that if they were to discover him or anything else important, they would signal the others with a loud blast from one of Fremy’s bombs.
Suddenly, Fremy stopped. She looked around the area, thinking.
“What is it?” asked Mora.
“Mora, you go to the temple. I’m heading the other way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Adlet most likely fought Chamo and ran. If he comes this way, you fight him. If he went in the other direction, I’ll find him.”
“…All right. You take care.” Mora seemed to be implying something in her words. Her eyes were sharp and attentive as they fixed on Fremy.
Once Mora was out of sight, Fremy sprinted straight through the forest.
Adlet was waiting in his tree for Fremy to show up. He had no guarantee that she would be on his side. On the contrary, she might just as readily bring Mora to murder him. His chances were fifty-fifty or slimmer. If he’d been able to contact Nashetania, he would have preferred to rely on her. But she had Goldof with her, and he probably wouldn’t leave her side, no matter what happened. At this point, Adlet had no choice but to count on Fremy.
As he waited, he recalled his discussion with Hans. Before they’d fought Chamo, while still searching the temple, Adlet had proposed summoning Fremy.
Hans’s reaction had been a troubled look. “Meow, I thought that was a li’l strange. So she did let you go deliberately, after all.”
“You could tell?”
“I just had a feelin’, like meowbe. Fremy wasn’t sayin’ nothin’, though.”
Adlet became somewhat uneasy. That meant any of the others might have caught on to Fremy and Adlet’s secret agreement. “Let’s call Fremy. She might have found something.”
“Forget it. In fact, don’t ever call her up, no way. That woman is dangerous.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, meow that I’m not suspectin’ you no more, she’s the one most likely to be the seventh.”
Adlet shook his head. “Fremy is a real Brave. I just know.”
“Then I’m gonna have to disagree.”
The two of them
