Mora’s heart hammered, though she desperately tried to stay calm. She feigned confusion, as if the suspicions Fremy had just voiced were utterly groundless. “‘Acting odd’? If a gun were pointed at me every time I acted odd, I would be dead many times over.”
“Don’t dodge the question. Give me a straight answer.”
“Nothing happened. Does that satisfy you?” Mora approached Fremy, grabbed the muzzle of her weapon, and forced it down. “Fremy, you are free to attempt to deduce who the seventh may be. But don’t act so eager to kill.”
Fremy didn’t reply, her eyes locked with Mora’s.
“You would only attract suspicion to yourself instead. You’d be accused of using a search for the seventh as a pretense to create the opportunity to kill one of us. If I said to the others, The seventh is Fremy—she accused me of being the seventh and tried to kill me! what would you do then?”
“Fine.” Fremy holstered her gun and headed off to the Bud of Eternity.
Mora followed after her. Somehow, she’d managed to change the topic. I wonder if I fooled her, she thought. Mora had never been good at lying, and she rarely hid things. Honesty had been her principle throughout life. She had always believed that living an honest life, with no duplicity, was the true path to happiness.
“I think Tgurneu was bluffing,” said Fremy, “but it bothers me that it brought up a specific date. What did it mean by two days left?”
“I don’t know.” Mora didn’t think Tgurneu had been bluffing. In fact, she was certain its threat had been genuine—because Tgurneu could never lie to Mora.
Mora recalled what had happened three years prior and the secret, unforgivable agreement she had made with the fiend general.
Inside the old, empty fortress, Mora and Tgurneu glared at each other. Tgurneu rested on a mountain of rubble, while Marmanna sat beside Mora, watching her anxiously.
Mora hesitated. She had to save Shenira’s life, whatever it took. Shenira was her purpose—her everything. But she would not kill the Braves of the Six Flowers. That would be a betrayal of every human alive. How can I save my daughter? she agonized.
Then Tgurneu made her an offer. “I’ll compromise. You may kill one—just one of the six. Would you be able to accept that?” Mora didn’t reply. “Oh, dear. You won’t even take that? Such a cruel mother,” said Tgurneu.
Mora trembled with rage. “Even if I fulfilled that promise, it’s doubtful you would actually release my daughter.”
“I see.”
“I’m sure you would think nothing of breaking an oath to a human. With no guarantee you will be true to your word, no negotiations can be made,” said Mora.
Tgurneu grinned. “You’re quite right.”
“What did you say?”
“You’re right. I have no problem with lying in order to win. I can’t recall ever keeping a promise to a human.”
Did that mean that Tgurneu had had no intentions of freeing her daughter?
“But this situation right now is different,” the fiend continued. “I need you to trust that I’ll keep my promise. Kidnapping is a crime of trust. You can’t do it without good faith between the aggressor and the victim.”
“Good faith, hmm?”
Tgurneu glanced at Marmanna, who sat beside Mora. “It’s a good thing you brought the Saint of Words. In the event that we come to an agreement, why don’t I make an oath to her? I can swear that if I break my promise to you, I will offer my life in exchange.”
Mora’s heart wavered. After a few moments of thought, she replied, “Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Fiends see nothing of throwing their lives away for the sake of victory. Your life alone would guarantee nothing.”
“I see. So that’s how you’re going to be.” Tgurneu closed its eyes and considered for a while. “What you point out is entirely true. But I’m no common fiend. Among the countless fiends, I am of the elite, the cornerstone, a general in charge of forty percent of the whole army. If I were to die, the chain of command would collapse. It would be a massive blow from which they would never recover. They need me to defeat the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
“A commander of fiends, hmm?” Mora could trust that. Just sitting face-to-face with this being, she could tell that it possessed fearsome power. She also sensed what it had said about commanding forty percent of the army might just be true.
“This is the life I’m offering to you as a guarantee. I believe this proposal should inspire trust.”
“Marmanna, tell me if it speaks truth or lies,” Mora directed her.
Using the power of the Spirit of Words, Marmanna manifested a tiny sphere of light that jumped into Tgurneu’s mouth. “Repeat what you said just now,” she said.
“I am a leader among fiends. I command forty percent of all the army. If I die, the chain of command will collapse, and that blow would be catastrophic for them. The fiends would most likely be unable to beat the Braves of the Six Flowers without me.” If it were lying, the orb would be ejected from its mouth and return to Marmanna. The light remained in place.
“Tgurneu is telling the truth,” said Marmanna. But even so, Mora couldn’t believe the fiend.
“You still can’t trust me? Then let’s do this: I’ll swear to the Saint of Words that I’ll never lie to you. If I lie, then may this core be shattered. By the way, I promise that I’d release your daughter, too,” said Tgurneu, indicating the place its heart would be if it were human.
The core of a fiend was like its brain. Though fiends boasted powerful vitality, they would always die if their core was broken. Every fiend had a core—a glossy, metallic sphere. The larger ones would be about five centimeters in diameter, and on the smaller side, they could be smaller than the tip of a pinky finger.
“I’ll even show you.” Tgurneu put a hand to its chest. The flesh cracked open, revealing its organs. Thanks to the fiend’s
