“Apparently, Zophrair also had the ability to strengthen its subordinates,” Rolonia said, supplementing his explanation. “The moment Zophrair died, its minions were radically weakened.”
“So then what happened?”
Adlet continued. “Three of the Six Braves held Zophrair in check while the rest of them went straight to the Weeping Hearth and defeated the Evil God. After that, Zophrair challenged Heroic King Folmar, the leader of the Braves, to single combat. Folmar accepted the challenge, and after a fierce struggle, they both died.”
“…”
“Zophrair doesn’t appear in the records left by the second generation of the Braves of the Six Flowers,” he continued, “and neither do any fiends with the same ability. Zophrair was the only controller-type fiend, one worthy of being dubbed the Archfiend.”
“Where does Tgurneu come into this?” asked Fremy.
“A fiend that resembled Tgurneu was among Zophrair’s minions. Other Braves left a number of their own records aside from Barnah’s Chronicle of War, but his is the only one that mentions Tgurneu.”
“What did it do in this Chronicle?”
“Not much,” Adlet replied. “Fought with the Six Braves, lost, and went down. That’s all.”
“I didn’t know any of this. This is nothing like what I was told about the old Battles of the Six Flowers. I’ve never heard of the Archfiend Zophrair.”
That’s odd, thought Adlet. Zophrair was, unquestionably, the most powerful fiend that had ever lived. Judging from their earlier fight, Adlet didn’t think Tgurneu was equally strong. Wouldn’t stories of a creature that powerful have been passed down to later generations of fiends? “You didn’t know about the old battles?”
“I’ve heard about them, but what I heard was entirely different from what you’ve just told me. I heard that in the first Battle of the Six Flowers, no one led the horde. Tgurneu said they attacked the Braves in disarray and were defeated.”
“That’s weird.” Tgurneu had clearly been hiding from Fremy the fact that Zophrair had ever existed. But to what end? There were so many things that stuck out here. The food. The greetings. Concealing information about Zophrair. But how was that connected to the enigma of Tgurneu? It was all too obscure. Nothing came to him. “It looks like we just have to go back there.” Adlet was referring to the hill where Tgurneu had attacked them. If they hurried, they could make it in about half an hour.
“That would be difficult,” Fremy countered. “We’re surrounded. And if there’s actually some kind of clue there, Tgurneu would come try to stop us.”
Since they still couldn’t solve the mystery, Adlet wanted to avoid another altercation with Tgurneu. They might not be able to escape a second time. But they still had to think of a way to return to that hill—if any clues did exist, they’d find them there.
“I’ll go. You two stay here,” said Fremy as she got to her feet.
“You plan to go alone?” asked Adlet.
“It’s easier that way. I won’t have any distractions.”
“You can’t. I’ll go, too. You come with us, Rolonia.”
“Your injuries still haven’t completely healed,” argued Fremy. “And Rolonia is out of the question. I can’t go with someone who could be an enemy.”
But then—Mora’s cry reached them from outside. “Tgurneu is here!”
Together, the three dashed out of the cave.
Chapter 4
A Sudden Turn
It was three years before the Evil God’s awakening, and the day after Mora had made her agreement with Tgurneu.
“This is bullshit!” An angry cry echoed through Mora’s quarters at All Heavens Temple. The Elder was sitting at her table, opposite another woman. Her guest stood up and punched the table. It instantly split in two, sending the teacups and flower vase flying. A moment later, the slabs of table transformed into slabs of salt and crumbled onto the carpet.
“Willone, don’t break my furniture,” said Mora.
The woman’s name was Willone Court, the Saint of Salt. She was twenty-five years old at the time, with light brown skin; long, pitch-black hair; and a taut, muscular body. The sleeves had been cut off her vestments, and she wore leather gloves on her hands.
Salt had the power to purify evil. Past Saints of Salt had long been skilled at creating barriers to keep away fiends and nullifying the toxin that covered the Howling Vilelands, albeit temporarily. Willone also had the ability to turn her enemies into lumps of salt, which made her a capable fighter, rare for the Saint of Salt.
Mora had revealed the entirety of her contract with Tgurneu to Willone. When she heard the story, she was shocked and furious—not at Mora, who had made this unforgivable contract with a fiend, but at Tgurneu, who had taken a hostage. “How can I be calm, boss?! Why didn’t you just slaughter that jackass?!”
“It ran away. Besides, I couldn’t have defeated it alone.”
“…That shitstain!”
The maids cleaned up the mountain of salt and carried in a replacement table. After making sure they had left, Mora was about to continue the conversation when Willone suddenly tried to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Where else?! I’m going out to go destroy that damned fiend! You come with me, boss!”
“Calm down. You don’t even have an idea of Tgurneu’s location.”
“It’s obviously gonna be in the Howling Vilelands, and with my powers, I can get in! We’ll take Chamo and Athlay, and maybe the princess and Granny Leura or whoever. It’ll be like a pre–Battle of the Six Flowers!”
“’Twould be reckless. Your abilities would give us two days in the Howling Vilelands, at most—not nearly enough.”
“Damn it!” Willone withdrew reluctantly and sat down on the sofa again.
Mora trusted the other Saint deeply. She was a good person, the type to lay everything out on the surface. She was faithful and tight-lipped, and once she made a
