Large volumes of blood flowed from the gashes covering Tgurneu’s body. But its blithe remarks did not stop. Adlet just couldn’t understand—what was this monster’s goal? At this rate, it was looking like Tgurneu had simply come their way to be killed.
Then Fremy approached Adlet from behind and said quietly, “If the fight continues like this, we can’t win.” Eyes still fixed on Tgurneu, the red-haired boy did not reply. “We need to hit Tgurneu with at least five times this much firepower if we want to kill it.”
Adlet was shocked. He had thought they were at an advantage, but in fact, the odds in their favor were no better than fifty-fifty.
“If we can keep up the fight like this, we might be able to win,” she continued. “But the seventh will strike before that happens. They’ll take you by surprise and kill you, or they might attack you while pretending it was an accident.” Fremy looked to the northwest. “Or they might go for Chamo or Hans.” Mora and Rolonia were gradually nearing Tgurneu, but the fiend’s smile did not falter as it prepared itself for their attacks.
“That’s no problem. We’re sticking to this fight,” said Adlet.
“…”
“Relax. I’ve figured out a way to win.” Adlet had a secret plan—hidden not only from Tgurneu, but also from Fremy, Mora, and Rolonia. He had a deadly weapon hidden within his left pauldron, the final tool that his master had passed down to him six months earlier. Atreau himself had called this weapon, which could kill a fiend in a single strike, his finest masterpiece.
Adlet’s dedication to restraining Tgurneu was merely the first stage of that plan. He would divert Tgurneu’s attention to the others, and then when the opportunity arose, he would unleash his deadly attack. He planned to seize the moment when Tgurneu began to slow down, when its focus was elsewhere. He desperately waited for that opportunity.
Mora and Rolonia inched closer and closer. Still gripping the chain, Adlet looked for the chance to strike—but then Tgurneu remarked, “Let me tell you something.” Startled, all three attackers froze instinctively. “I know what you’re thinking, Adlet. Fighting you on my own like this has to be some kind of trap. But it’s not. I came here to defeat you all head-on.”
“Don’t listen to what it says,” warned Fremy.
“It’s time for me to get serious,” said Tgurneu. “I suppose I’ll use my trump card now.”
What is Tgurneu trying to do? wondered Adlet. If the fiend really did intend to use its trump card, there would be no need to announce the fact verbally. Was there some purpose in that, or was Tgurneu just that unconcerned?
A strange change occurred in the fiend’s chest. The flesh wriggled like a pulsing vein, forming something that looked like a large, amphibian mouth. Tgurneu plunged its right hand into the new orifice.
Adlet’s party reacted immediately. Rolonia swept her whip in a sideways arc as Fremy shot the mouth in Tgurneu’s chest. But even with the chain still attached to its left arm, it dodged the attacks as if dancing. “Behold, my trump card!” The creature pulled its free hand from the opening. In it was a large fig. Tgurneu took a bite and said, “Whoops, wrong one.”
Fremy shot Tgurneu in the head. Still holding the fig, her target’s whole upper body snapped backward. Mora swooped down from the left, swinging her fists into the fiend’s flank. Rolonia whipped its shoulder, and blood spurted from the wound.
Tgurneu smiled as it fought back. “Wait, hold on there. Let me use my trump card.”
As Adlet kept trying to hold Tgurneu still with the chain, an uncanny foreboding came over him. They couldn’t allow the fiend to gain a sure advantage. If they didn’t kill it before then, things would get bad. Adlet tried to find the right moment to unleash the secret tool hidden in his left pauldron.
“!”
But his own nervousness had distracted him. Tgurneu feigned relaxing its arm, then yanked as hard as possible. When the boy staggered, Tgurneu bit off the chain with far more strength than it had shown thus far. So, their enemy hadn’t been playing seriously before.
“Damn it!”
Tgurneu vaulted over the four surrounding him and ran off toward its reinforcements to the northwest. It possessed frightening speed—as fast as Hans, or faster. Adlet threw a knife in an attempt to stop it, but Tgurneu didn’t slow for even a moment.
“All right, now I can use this,” said Tgurneu, and Adlet saw it shove a hand into its chest again. It withdrew a handful of grape-sized bombs and, still running, hurled them high into the sky.
On the edge of the hill, Hans, Goldof, and Chamo kept the reinforcements in check. There weren’t that many—about three hundred, not even one-thirtieth of the fiend army. The fight was evenly matched. About seventy slave-fiends held back the enemy mass like it was nothing. However, if Tgurneu joined the fray, the balance would instantly collapse.
“Hans! Goldof! Go for Tgurneu!” yelled Adlet.
Then the bombs exploded over their heads. Sparkling silver powder mixed with the smoke and rained down upon the slave-fiends. Immediately, they heard a sizzling sound, and white smoke began to rise from the bodies of Chamo’s servants.
“Huh?” Chamo muttered. Her slave-fiends screamed and fell to the ground, writhing.
“What the meow is this stuff? Hot, hot!” Hans covered his eyes.
The silver powder covered the fiends, the slave-fiends and Hans, but only the enemy seemed unharmed.
“What the heck?! Guys! What happened?! Pull yourselves together!” cried Chamo. She completely lost it, clinging to a nearby slave-fiend. The enemy army descended upon her in unison, and Tgurneu was about to join them.
“Hans! Goldof! Protect Chamo!” yelled Adlet. The two immediately rushed to her side to intercept the fiends about to attack her. A bullet pierced Tgurneu’s leg from behind, halting its charge. Once they caught up, Mora and Rolonia attacked Tgurneu to protect
