“Don’t worry. I’m good at fighting in retreat,” said Fremy, clenching her gun.
The party continued their retreat, traveling away from the hill and passing through the ravine. Their goal was not the east, where the continent lay. They were headed west, deeper into the Howling Vilelands. Their retreat turned into a battle even fiercer than regular combat. The one with the toughest role of all was Mora, who was at the group’s tail, having to run while simultaneously defending the group from Tgurneu’s attacks.
“Ungh!” Mora grunted. Tgurneu caught up to them again, and Mora dodged to the side to avoid its fist. The next blow she blocked with her gauntlets.
Fremy joined the fray to help her, firing at Tgurneu from behind Mora, the bullet skimming past the other woman’s face. When Tgurneu leaned away to avoid it, Mora flung the fiend back with a kick to the stomach and ran. Fremy hurled a bomb at their pursuer to slow it down. Her claim that she was a skilled fighter while retreating had been no bluff, and her precise support fire enabled Mora to manage their escape, albeit narrowly.
The vanguard didn’t have it easy, either. Though Hans, Goldof, and Rolonia encountered repeated ambushes and fiends that had circled ahead, it was the Saint among them who somehow succeeded in defending the group.
Once they emerged from the ravine, a smallish mountain came into view. The three in the lead were already running up the slope to the Bud of Eternity. If they could reach it, they would be safe for the time being. Their pursuers were slowly declining in number. The commander was still hot on their heels, but one by one they were shaking off the rest of the fiends.
“Watch out!” cried Fremy.
That was when it happened—Tgurneu sprung forward to grapple with Mora. She grabbed Tgurneu’s wrists, restraining the fiend with both hands, and the two of them struggled against each other. Tgurneu was far stronger—even borrowing the power of the Spirit of Mountains, it was all Mora could do to hold on for a few seconds.
“Mora!” Fremy came to her aid with a bomb to Tgurneu’s back. The blast caused Tgurneu to stagger, and during that brief window, Mora sent the fiend flying with a punch and escaped from its grasp. Tgurneu got to its feet and, for just a moment, grimaced. Rather than standing firmly, it swayed a little. Upon closer inspection, it was wounded after so many hits from Mora, Fremy, and Rolonia. Adlet’s spike weapon was still impaled in its stomach—though it didn’t seem like that had any effect.
“I think now’s a good time to quit, Tgurneu,” said Fremy, pointing her gun at the creature. The Bud of Eternity was likely only minutes away. The other fiends had pulled back, and most of their pursuers were gone.
Tgurneu smiled faintly and withdrew one big step. “It looks like you’ve grown a lot since you left six months ago. I’m glad.” She didn’t reply. “It’s so lonesome, Fremy. There’s so much we have to talk about now. Hey, why don’t you come back? We betrayed you, but that couldn’t be helped, and even now, I still—”
Fremy cut Tgurneu off with a bullet to its face. The fiend caught it in its teeth, spat it out, and shrugged. “Get lost,” she sneered.
“I understand how you feel, Fremy. You’re scared your heart might waver. You think that if this conversation continues, you’ll allow me to convince you. Adorable as ever.”
Fremy’s jaw clenched as she ground her teeth. Mora watched her silently. The Saint of Gunpowder’s position was complicated, and her feelings for Tgurneu had to be complicated, too.
As Mora watched the two glare at each other, she remembered what had happened about an hour ago—when, before Tgurneu had taken them by surprise, she had encountered that strange fiend in the Ravine of Spitten Blood. The message written on its back, that she had no time, had most certainly been from Tgurneu.
“…”
Mora wanted to ask what having no time meant. But she couldn’t discuss that with Fremy present. She couldn’t allow her allies to know about the secret agreement she had made with Tgurneu three years prior. She couldn’t let them even suspect her of it.
“Let’s go now, Mora. I’m worried about Adlet,” said Fremy, and she slowly backed away. It seemed Tgurneu did not intend to give chase. It stood there idly, giving no sign it would move.
“Should you really be ending the battle now?” taunted Tgurneu. Fremy ignored it, but Mora froze. “This might be your last opportunity to defeat me—it might be your only chance. You have no time.”
“What do you mean?” Mora asked, without thinking.
“You have two days left. If you fail to defeat me before that time is up, things will be bad for you. Very bad for you.”
“Two more days?”
Fremy tugged Mora’s shoulder. “Don’t listen. It’s a bluff. If there really were something happening in two days, Tgurneu wouldn’t just warn you.”
“But…” Mora hesitated, while Fremy urged her to go.
Watching the two, it waved and smiled. “As Fremy advises, I’ll leave you for today. Good-bye, Braves of the Six Flowers. We’ll see one another again.” The fiend turned around and left. Mora couldn’t follow—Tgurneu was too fast.
There was no sign of any enemies—apparently the fight really was over now. Breathing hard, Mora gazed after Tgurneu. “What a buffoon. That is a commander of the fiends?”
“Tgurneu has always been like that. It’s so bad, it makes me want to gag,” said Fremy, but this time, her gun was fixed on her comrade.
Mora wasn’t really shocked. She didn’t think Fremy was the seventh—if she were, then she would have attacked while Tgurneu was present. “What are you doing, Fremy?”
“I want to ask you one thing, Mora.” The look in Fremy’s eyes was not murderous, but rather suspicious. Fremy suspected Mora as the seventh. “Did something happen with you and Tgurneu?”
“What makes you think that?”
“When Tgurneu said, You have no time, you
