Adlet doubted his ears. Next, he doubted his memory. Lastly, he doubted the authenticity of the slate.
He remembered. He remembered what had happened after the four of them had set foot in the temple, before Chamo had walked in.
“Hmm? Meow then, who broke the slate? I don’t know that part,” said Hans.
“When Chamo came in, the slate was already smashed up,” said Chamo. “So who broke it?”
Adlet searched his memory.
“The barrier has been activated. I can’t believe this. Who did it?”
“I don’t know. Sorry, but I have no idea what happened,” Adlet had said, shaking his head.
“Well, let us deactivate it, then. Pardon.” Goldof had been the first to touch it. He had pulled out the decorative sword in an attempt to deactivate the barrier.
“Give me that for a second. The previous generation of Braves made something like this before. Back then, I think they canceled out the barrier like this.” The next one to touch it had been Adlet. He’d put the sword back in again, let a drop of blood fall on it, and attempted to deactivate the barrier. And then, after that…
“Nullify the barrier! Cancel it, you! You stop now! Stop the fog! I will be this barrier’s master!” Nashetania had grabbed the sword. She’d shouted a bunch of different incantations and then finally grew impatient, using the sword to batter the slate on the altar. That was most definitely when the slate had broken.
“Isn’t that nice, Auntie Mora? You were about to get killed,” said Chamo.
“I cannot take this in,” said Mora. “What does this mean?” Chamo smiled at her. Unable to keep pace with the situation, Mora could manage nothing but confusion.
“Adlet, you saw, didn’t ya? Who’s the one who broke the slate?” asked Hans, but Adlet couldn’t reply. “Hey. Do you know, Fremy?” He turned to Fremy instead.
Fremy replied without hesitation. “It was Nashetania.”
Nashetania backed away, her expression frightened. She was speechless. She shook her head very slightly, desperately asserting her innocence. “So the slate, then… B-but I wasn’t trying to activate the barrier—”
“The princess, meow? That’s surprisin’. I thought it was Goldof.” Hans drew his sword, and Chamo put her foxtail to her mouth. Goldof stood in front of Nashetania, holding the two of them in check.
It has to be some kind of trap—or if not, then some kind of mistake. There’s no way she could be the culprit, thought Adlet, and as he did, he searched his memories of the time he’d spent with Nashetania. She’d done nothing suspicious. Not when pretending to be a maid to visit his prison cell. Not when he’d been chosen as a Brave or when they’d set out on their journey together. Not when they’d saved the villagers from fiends. Not when they’d been separated and met up again later. Not when she and Goldof had attacked Fremy, deeming her the enemy. Or even when they’d approached the temple when it was being bombed.
“…Ah.” A small cry slipped from Adlet’s throat. On the way to the temple, the four of them had been waylaid by fiends. During the fight, Nashetania had said, Adlet. Please head for the temple. We will take over here!
Why hadn’t he noticed? There’d been one important prerequisite for this scheme to work—and that was that one of the six Braves had to arrive at the temple first. Adlet had gone ahead because Nashetania told him to, and then when he’d arrived at the temple, he’d fallen into the seventh’s trap.
“It’s one thing after another, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I will protect you.” Goldof’s entire body emitted an aura that spoke of barely contained violence. He protectively shielded Nashetania behind him.
“The princess? It cannot be…” Mora was unable to act, utterly at a loss.
Hans and Chamo slowly approached Nashetania. Fremy drew her gun and stood at the ready. Nashetania drew her sword and looked pleadingly at Adlet. “Adlet, say something, please. I’m not the seventh.”
No, she’s not the impostor, is what Adlet tried to say, but what came out of his mouth was something else. “It can’t be. Is it true, Nashetania?”
“Adlet…” When Nashetania heard that, suddenly her expression changed. She went from frightened and forlorn to empty and listless. And then she smiled. It was a dignified and cheerful display, just like the one she’d had on her face when they’d first met. “I concede,” she said.
“Huh?” Adlet was stunned.
Nashetania sheathed her sword, raised both hands, and said, “Do you not understand that? I concede. It means I surrender.”
None were able to speak. None were able to move. They were all taken aback by the look on Nashetania’s face and her indifferent remarks. They could do nothing but stare.
“Your Highness…what are you talking about?” asked Goldof.
“Like I said, Goldof. I’m the seventh.” Nashetania patted his shoulder as he stood frozen in place. It was as if she were saying, Good job, now you can go home. “Sorry,” she said, walking around him to stand in the center of the crowd. “Perhaps I could have held out a little longer. But if Adlet doesn’t believe me, I’m sure I would have been unable to convince the rest of you, no matter what I said.” And then she considered the group and said, “I bungled this one. I knew that there was a backup set of ritual tools, but not that the method for activating the barrier was written on them. I should have been more prepared. But to think I would fail to defeat even one of you… I thought that, at worst, I could shave down your numbers by two.” Nashetania was calm. She was not timid, not apologetic, and she was not confused. “I think the reason I failed was that I was simply not proactive enough. I had so many options open to me—I could have approached Adlet and caught him off guard, or I could have simply killed Goldof. Any number of options were available to me, but I let all those chances slip by. Up
