“You should be more concerned about me.” Tgurneu turned to Adlet and spread both arms. It was as if the fiend was saying, Come get me.
Hands moving faster than the eye could follow, Adlet hurled his needles. He aimed pain at Tgurneu’s eyes and paralysis at its knees, bounding toward the beast. I’ll end this instantly, he thought. Eight years of nightmares over in a single moment.
But the four barbs were ineffective against Tgurneu. The fiend stretched out its arms many times their original length to strike Adlet, and the boy had no way of dodging mid-leap. He just barely blocked the punch with his sword, but it still knocked him flat on his back.
“Watch out!” Mora swung a punch from the side. At the same time, Hans scampered on all fours along the ground, trying to get a slice at Tgurneu’s feet as Fremy fired at its head. From behind, Goldof braced his spear against his side and charged in an attempt to skewer it.
“I’ve got ya neow!”
From where Adlet lay on the ground, he watched Tgurneu hug its forearm close to its body to block Mora’s gauntlet. It raised a leg to avoid Hans’s blades and, without giving him time to react, kicked back. Then it halted Goldof’s charge with a punch to the chest courtesy of its free arm while catching Fremy’s bullet in its teeth.
“That was really close,” observed Tgurneu.
The party immediately backed off. It can’t be, thought Adlet. Tgurneu had blocked four simultaneous attacks.
“Were you trying to predict what methods I’d use to kill you all? Such as assassinate you using the seventh, or have the seventh lead you into a trap? Well, I’m sure that’s about all you managed to come up with.” Tgurneu spread both arms but revealed no openings. Adlet got up, but only stood with his blade raised, not moving.
“Then how about this? I’ll fight you all head-on, no tricks or schemes, and kill you all.” Tgurneu smiled and then rushed at Adlet.
Chapter 2
Mora’s Secret Contract
On a certain day three years earlier, an incident had occurred at All Heavens Temple that would lead Mora to kill Hans.
In a tiny annex in one corner of All Heavens Temple was the warm and humble abode where Mora, her husband, and their daughter Shenira lived. The time-worn interior of the building still contained the antique furnishings that had once belonged to the previous Temple Elder. The modestly built home was appropriate for a servant of the spirits.
Mora sat down on the sofa in the parlor, covering her face with trembling hands. One month had passed since she had begun coaching Nashetania and the other girls.
“Lady Mora…are you listening?”
There were three people in the parlor—Mora; her husband, Ganna; and the one who had spoken, a middle-aged woman in a plain white dress. Her name was Torleau Maynus, the Saint of Medicine. Her powers were only for healing wounds and curing illnesses—she essentially had no offensive capabilities. Reaching out indiscriminately to all who asked for her aid, the great Saint traveled around the world with the doctors under her command. She was one of the people who Mora respected most.
“Lady Mora…please, hold yourself together,” Torleau said to the trembling Mora. The Temple Elder was incapable of any reply. It hurt to breathe, and her vision wavered. It was all she could do just to sit up straight.
“I apologize, Saint Torleau. My wife is not in a state for discussion. I shall speak with you instead.” Ganna pulled Mora’s hand and tried to escort her out of the room.
But she let go of his hand and sat down on the sofa again. “I’m sorry. Say that once more.”
“Yes. Shenira’s illness…is beyond my ability to treat.”
Two weeks before, Shenira had complained of intense pain in her chest, and a strange, centipede-shaped mark had appeared on its left side. This condition had never been seen before. Her pain had worsened day by day, and eventually, it had gotten so bad that it had brought her to screams and cries. Her agony did not lessen one bit, and ten days after her illness had begun, she had ripped off her nails from clawing her chest so much.
Mora had done everything in her power. She had brought the doctors stationed at the temple to see Shenira, had summoned the most famous physicians in the nation, and had attempted to cure Shenira herself with the energy of the mountains. Finally, she had written a letter to Torleau, off in a faraway land, requesting that she come swiftly via horseback to All Heavens Temple.
“Tell me, Torleau. Please, tell me what is happening to her.”
But three days earlier, the moment Torleau had arrived at All Heavens Temple, Shenira’s pain had suddenly stopped. The centipede-like mark had remained, along with the scars on her chest and fingers, but otherwise, she seemed entirely fine. Though puzzled, Torleau had examined Shenira nonetheless. Mora had hoped that since the pain was gone, Shenira would be all right—but those hopes were dashed.
“A parasitic insect is nesting in her heart,” said Torleau. “I’ve never seen or even heard of this thing before. I’ve tried every medicine I can think of, and I have no idea why they aren’t working. I even pierced her chest with a needle to pour a solution directly onto the insect.”
“What…what will happen to her now?” asked Mora.
“I don’t know.”
“Please. Just tell me it’s not true.”
The Saint of Medicine shook her head, then covered her face with her hands and cried. “This is awful, Mora. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Blaming Torleau had never occurred to Mora. The Saint of Medicine had done everything she could. If her daughter could not be cured, even after Torleau had tried everything, then…
A knock sounded on the parlor door. “Mommy, Daddy…” They could hear
