“Indeed. Let’s do our best.”
Next, it was a cart stacked with carrots that came down the road toward them. Nashetania hopped off her horse again and took one without asking. There’s no way she’s gonna eat it raw, thought Adlet, but in fact, she did. Nashetania summoned a narrow blade out of thin air. The blade moved too fast for the eye to catch, cleanly peeling the carrot in only moments.
“Is that the power of the Spirit of Blades?” asked Adlet.
“That it is. Fantastic, right? Since I’m a Saint.” Nashetania puffed out her chest as she chomped on the carrot. “And I can do this, too,” she said, raising her index finger. A blade sprouted from the ground, one over five meters in length. It was slender and frighteningly sharp. If it pierced either human or fiend, its victim would be done for. “And even this.” She directed her index finger toward Adlet, summoning blades about thirty centimeters long around the digit. One after another, they shot at Adlet’s face.
“What’re you doing?! You idiot!”
“This is easy enough for you to dodge, isn’t it?” Nashetania cackled as she continued peppering him with projectiles.
Though he dodged them easily, he was privately amazed by the power of the Saint of Blades.
Saint was a general term for warriors who controlled supernatural powers. There were fewer than eighty of them in the world, and all of them were, without exception, women. They said that within the body of each Saint resided a Spirit that governed the providence of all things. By borrowing the abilities of the Spirit within, a Saint could wield powers beyond human capacity. Among the many Spirits, the one that inhabited Nashetania’s body was the Spirit of Blades. Each Spirit had only one Saint. No one else besides Nashetania could currently utilize the power of the Spirit of Blades. If she were to die or relinquish her power, someone else would be chosen as the Saint of Blades. In addition to Nashetania and her power of blades, there were also the Saint of Fire, the Saint of Ice, the Saint of Mountains, and others with a variety of powers. A few of these people were bound to be chosen as Braves of the Six Flowers. The Saint of the Single Flower, the one who had defeated the Evil God in the past, had hosted the Spirit of Fate.
“Cut that out!” Adlet grabbed one of the projectiles and threw it back at Nashetania. It hit her helmet and fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“No kidding.”
“Are you angry?”
“I am angry. Absolutely furious,” he said, and Nashetania suddenly wilted. With a sad look on her face, she bit into her raw carrot. I’m not that mad, Adlet thought, now regretting what he’d said.
“I apologize.” Sounding depressed and completely different from before, Nashetania said, “I’m a bit strange. I’m always making my father and the maids cross with me.”
“Hey, I’m not that mad.”
“Maybe I’ll just be an annoyance no matter where I go.”
She’s kind of hard to categorize, thought Adlet. She had dressed up in a maid’s uniform and visited him at the jail, fooled around on the road here, but then immediately gotten upset just because he was a little angry at her. It was uncomfortable. How should he deal with this? Grasping his horse’s reins, Adlet looked down. Still unable to come up with something to say, he rode along with her in silence. I’m the strongest man in the world, so why am I worrying over something so trivial? Adlet wondered, and he was about to say something to Nashetania when he noticed her glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
“Did you seriously think I was upset?” she asked.
“…Hey.”
Nashetania put a hand to her mouth, a teasing smile on her face. He’d forgotten…she really loved mischief.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! You really are fun, Adlet.”
“Damn it. My concern was wasted on you.”
“I wouldn’t get upset over something like that. Relax.”
Adlet looked away and slapped his horse’s rear, galloping away to leave Nashetania behind.
“Please don’t be angry!” she pleaded. “I just got carried away.”
“No kidding.”
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m usually more restrained. This is just so nice, I cannot help but enjoy myself a little.”
“We’re heading out to go fight the Evil God right now. Do you get that?”
“I do. It’s just for now. I apologize.” Nashetania bowed her head, smiling. “This is a first for me. I know there will be fighting, but still, I can’t help myself.”
“A first? A first what?” he asked.
“First time being with someone like you.” Nashetania’s expression changed. Her smile turned from puckish to something kind and affectionate. She had a number of different smiles. Adlet suddenly felt shy.
“Being able to speak as equals like this, to talk honestly about what I think and feel—you’re the first person I’ve been able to do that with,” she confided.
Adlet went beyond shy to outright embarrassed. He glanced at Nashetania from the corner of his eye. Maybe she’s just amusing herself by embarrassing me, he considered, but that did not appear to be the case.
“Oh, look—a wagon. I’ll go get myself another carrot.” Maybe she realized he was feeling self-conscious, or maybe she didn’t, but regardless, Nashetania began chomping on another raw carrot. Adlet’s shoulders slumped as he watched her.
Following that, Nashetania continued to act as she pleased. Before long, the sun set, and night arrived. The two of them tied their horses by the side of the road and began setting up camp. Adlet wondered if Nashetania would be able to handle sleeping outdoors, having been raised in a palace, but she said she had done it many times, so she’d have no problems. Once Adlet was done laying out his bedding, he scanned the area, checking to see if there were any blind spots or cover where an enemy might hide. It was always best to be ready for a surprise attack.
“What’s wrong?” Nashetania asked him. Her eyelids were drooping, and she looked quite sleepy
