“Yeah.” He stood beside her. Now then, what to talk about? When he looked at her, nothing came to mind.
“It’s too bad. That Nashetania was the seventh, I mean,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s what’s been on your mind, right?”
“Why’d you have to put it that way?” Adlet pouted. It wasn’t that he’d considered Nashetania special. I just felt like I got along with her pretty well. So, well, I guess it is too bad.
“Sorry, but can you not talk to me?” Fremy looked away. Her attitude confused him. She had fought so hard to protect him just the day before. Where had that gone?
“I don’t really know…,” she said, “…how I should talk to you. I don’t know how to look at myself.”
“…”
“So I’d like a little time.”
Adlet sighed. “Fine. Then I’d just like to ask two things.” Fremy nodded. “You’re coming with us, right?” he asked. “You’re taking back what you said about wanting to fight alone?”
“Yes. I’ve given up on that. Even if I were to insist on leaving, you wouldn’t listen, anyway.”
She just can’t be honest with herself, thought Adlet. “And is it true…that when you’re with me, you want to live?” Fremy blushed and glanced down, then gave Adlet a spiteful look. She nodded very slightly.
“Let’s do it,” said Adlet. “Let’s beat the Evil God. And all of us are gonna come out alive.”
Fremy nodded and then turned away, as if to say, Are we done here? That was when it happened.
“…?” Adlet saw something—something that looked like a person approaching the temple from the direction of the fort.
“What is it, Adlet?” Fremy asked. She then quickly noticed, too.
The one approaching was a girl, her small frame encased in iron armor as she trotted toward them. Mora and the others noticed the sound and emerged from the temple. Goldof lifted his head and looked at her.
“Um, pardon me!” The girl bowed her head deeply. She wore tiny glasses and looked like the quiet type. She had a timid expression, like that of a little squirrel. The thick armor she wore clashed completely with the impression she gave off.
“Rolonia, is that you?” asked Adlet.
The girl raised her head. When she recognized Adlet, she beamed. “Addy! I haven’t seen you for so long! So you were chosen, after all!”
“Y-yeah, I guess… It has been a while, but, uh…,” Adlet stuttered. The girl proffered a handshake. Confused, Adlet accepted it.
From behind him, Fremy murmured, “Who is she?”
Adlet released her hand, flustered, and the girl noticed the looks everyone was giving her. Then she bowed her head. “I—I’m so sorry! I haven’t introduced myself!” The girl—Rolonia—bowed her head again, multiple times. “I’m Rolonia Manchetta, the Saint of Spilled Blood. I’m very sorry I’m so late!”
Mora called out to her, making her lift her head. “Rolonia, why are you here?”
“Lady Mora, I really am sorry for being so late!” she said. “But when I tried to rendezvous with you all, the fog appeared, and I couldn’t approach the area.”
“That was not what I meant…,” said Mora.
“Um…I know I’m not really powerful enough to be one of the Braves, but I’ll do my best!” Rolonia added. Adlet felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. A shiver went down his spine. Mentally, he was staggering.
“Could you show us proof?” requested Mora.
“Y-yes—here it is. The proof I am one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.” With that, Rolonia removed her breastplate to show them the crest near her collarbone. It was the same as the one Adlet had—the same as the one the others had: a real Crest of the Six Flowers. “Um, sorry, but this has been bothering me for a while now…” Rolonia looked over the shuddering group and asked, “Why are there six of you?”
None of them could reply.
Adlet understood—their fight with Nashetania had been nothing more than a preliminary skirmish. The real battle had only just begun.
To everyone who read my previous series, Tatakau Shisho (Fighting Librarians): long time, no see. And to those who have not, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ishio Yamagata. How did you like Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers? I hope you will stay with me for many years to come.
It’s been so long since my last series ended. I’ve caused grief and trouble for a lot of people. I’ll do my best to ensure that won’t happen again. I felt lost for quite a long time, but lately, I’ve come to feel that whether I’m lost or not, I just have to write. Have I made some progress? Or is that a step back?
I suppose I’ll report on my current state of affairs. I’m the type who’s fine when it’s hot out but terrible at dealing with the cold, so in summertime, I’ve always been troubled by air-conditioning sickness. But this year, I’ve been keeping the air-conditioning low because of the power shortages, so I’ve been healthier than in previous years. But even so, I left the fan on too long and caught a summer cold. I was out for three days. The same day I recovered, I took a cold shower, and the cold came back, wasting another day. Will I never be able to manage my impossibly poor health? This is actually causing me legitimate concern.
I plan to contribute a portion of the royalties for this book to the Fukushima Decontamination Committee, a citizens’ group working to remove radioactive material from Fukushima. It won’t be much, but I hope I can be of some aid in the recovery, however small.
Finally, the acknowledgments. To Miyagi-san, who illustrated this book for me: Thank you very much. To my managing editor, T-shi: I apologize for all the trouble I caused you this time around, too. And to everyone in the editing department: Thank
