“Princess! What are you doing?! You don’t have the time to be talking to someone like him!” The old knight ran up to the two of them, but then Adlet showed him, too, the Crest of the Six Flowers on his right hand. The knight’s eyes widened, and he fell silent.
“We must go now. Our time is limited.” Nashetania unlocked the door of Adlet’s cell, and he stepped out. Ignoring the old knight’s cries as he tried to stop them, the pair broke into a run.
“Did you get us horses?” asked Adlet.
“They’re over this way!”
The two of them leaped out a window and landed on the grass. There, a woman who looked to be Nashetania’s maid was awkwardly leading two horses toward them.
“You’re all prepared, huh?” Adlet observed.
“Yes,” replied Nashetania. “Let us be off!”
Together, they straddled their horses and set off at a gallop. The old knight and the soldiers shouted after them, clamoring about a departure ceremony, an audience with the king, and other trivial matters. Looking at Nashetania’s profile as she rode beside him, Adlet smiled. It looked like he was going to get along with this girl. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing, as she turned to him and grinned.
One thousand years ago, a woman known as the Saint of the Single Flower defeated the Evil God and sealed it away on the westernmost edge of the continent, a land called the Balca Peninsula. Presently, the area fell under the territory of the Land of Iron Mountains, Gwenvaella. The peninsula was shaped sort of like a flask, with the narrow end attached to the continent. The plan was for the Braves of the Six Flowers to gather at the base of that peninsula. Every warrior who demonstrated his or her power before the Spirit of Fate at a temple surely knew that. No matter from where in the world each of the six Braves hailed, if they waited at that point, they would inevitably meet the others.
After the Evil God awakened, it would take a while for the creature to regain its full strength. Before the Evil God’s powers were replenished, the six Braves would have to make it to the very tip of the Balca Peninsula to seal the beast away once more. It would take the Evil God at least thirty days from the time of its awakening to reach its peak strength. Though that seemed like more than enough time, in actuality, it was not. Over ten thousand fiends lay in wait on that peninsula for the Braves of the Six Flowers. Only six warriors would step into that realm. It was bound to be a long and difficult battle. During the past two conflicts, over half of the six Braves had sacrificed their lives. But those who feared death would not be chosen to begin with.
The Balca Peninsula was rarely called by its formal name. This expansive swath of earth, eagerly awaiting the revival of the Evil God, resounded with the wailing of fiends. That was why the place was called the Howling Vilelands.
After leaving the royal capital of Piena, the two Braves first stopped by Adlet’s hideout. There, the eager warrior equipped himself. He stuffed a variety of secret tools into the pouches at his waist and packed explosives, poisons, and concealable weapons into the large iron box that he carried on his back. This vast array of instruments would be invaluable in defeating the Evil God. Without them, Adlet would have been unable to declare himself the strongest man in the world. The iron box was sturdy and heavy. A regular person would become short of breath just bearing it on their back. But for Adlet, it was no great burden.
After that, the companions galloped for a whole day out of the Land of Bountiful Fields, Piena. Now, they were in the Land of Golden Fruit, Fandaen.
“They won’t chase us any farther, will they?”
“I’m sure they’ve given up by now, Nashetania.” Looking over their shoulders, they were of course referencing the crowd from the royal palace in Piena that had been chasing after Nashetania. “Don’t you think that was a little cold of you, though? They’re your vassals, aren’t they?”
“They are, but dealing with them is still trying.”
Adlet was purposely not addressing his partner as a princess. It was his intention to treat her entirely like a comrade on equal footing, and Nashetania seemed fine with that.
As they proceeded down the road, the two of them slowed their pace a bit in order to give their exhausted horses a break. Orchards surrounded them as far as the eye could see. The Land of Golden Fruit, as indicated by its name, was a country that grew delicious fruit.
“It’s so pretty,” remarked Nashetania. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen so many cultivated fruit trees.”
“Really?” said Adlet.
She seemed to be enjoying herself as she took in the scenery. Adlet thought the trees were nothing special, but he supposed it must have been an unusual sight for her. A horse cart stacked with lemons passed by them, heading in the opposite direction.
“Pardon me,” called out Nashetania. “May I have one?”
What’re you doing? Adlet wondered.
Without even waiting for the coachman to reply, Nashetania grabbed a lemon. She crushed it in her hand and drank the juice with relish. “That was delicious!” She wiped her mouth and tossed the squeezed remains of the lemon into the cart. It seemed this princess was a little strange—though this was not news to Adlet. “It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?” she commented, licking the juice off her hand. “I thought the Evil God’s awakening would be so much more serious.”
“This is how it is. The last time the Evil God awoke, and the time before that, the world was at peace. You only see disturbances once you’re close to the Howling Vilelands,” said Adlet. “It only stops
