The little girl seemed different from usual. She was usually so cheerful and babyish, but now her lips were pressed tight together, and she held back tears.
“Mommy…are you going to die?” asked Shenira.
Without hesitation, Mora embraced Shenira and the stuffed animal the little girl held in her arms. Shenira already knew about the Evil God, and she probably also knew that Mora would likely be chosen as a Brave of the Six Flowers. “You have nothing to worry about. Mommy is going to win. The Evil God is nothing to fear.” Mora petted her back to calm her down.
But then Shenira said something that her mother couldn’t have expected. “Are you gonna die ’cause of me?”
“Huh?”
“Are you gonna die ’cause I’m sick? I don’t…want that…”
Mora had been most emphatic with both Ganna and Willone that they were not to tell Shenira anything. She should have believed that she was cured. But this meant that Shenira had figured out the truth quite some time ago. Sometimes, children could be mysteriously intuitive at picking out when adults were lying. Her daughter sobbed and sobbed for a long time. No matter how much Mora tried to soothe her, she didn’t stop. Ganna scooped her into his arms and sang her songs until she finally fell asleep.
After that, Mora found out—for a few months now, Shenira had been praying every day before a certain statue of the Spirit of Fate in All Heavens Temple. I’ll always eat my vegetables, so please save Mommy. I’ll never do anything bad my whole life, so please save Mommy, she had prayed before the Spirit’s image. I’ll die instead, so please save Mommy, Shenira had said to it.
Mora had known all along—no matter how much she fought it, she couldn’t abandon Shenira. She knew it wasn’t out of love but due to her own weakness. “Fremy,” she said as she treated her own wounds. In her hand, she clenched a metal tube about the size of her index finger. She crushed it in her fist and sprinkled the medicine inside on her body. “If Tgurneu dies, will you know?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“I’m concerned that even if we do kill Tgurneu, another might assume command in its place.”
Fremy observed Mora steadily as she gave the matter careful consideration. “If Tgurneu dies, every fiend that follows it will know immediately. They would all grieve and moan and begin to panic.”
“I see.” Then that meant Tgurneu was still alive, and everything it had told Mora was true. If that was the case, then it must also be true that Mora was the seventh. Oddly enough, finding out that she herself was the seventh was a relief. The mystery was solved. Now she need no longer fear the seventh. “What sort of relationship does Tgurneu have with its minions?” she asked.
“Tgurneu commands absolute loyalty. Their allegiance to Tgurneu is equal to their allegiance to the Evil God.” Their idle chat was beginning to make Fremy suspicious. “Mora, what are you hiding? What is your plot, here?”
“I am hiding something. But there’s no plot.”
“Talk. What’s your plot? If you won’t tell me, I’ll shoot you.”
“I shall tell you everything, and leave nothing out—after Chamo returns with Adlet.”
“You—” Fremy hesitated for just a moment, and when she did, Mora whipped around and attacked her. It was not the kind of attack Fremy could block. Normally, she probably would have shot Mora in the head on the spot. But when she fired, the bullet only skimmed past her ear.
“!”
Mora had not dodged. Fremy had missed. Her typically precise aim was off, having failed to hit a target only five steps away. Mora didn’t give her the time to jump back and get away. She grabbed the hem of Fremy’s cloak, pulled as hard as she could, then wrapped her arms around Fremy’s slender body, circling her hands about the girl’s neck.
“Mo—” With the artery in her neck cut off, she fell unconscious only moments later.
“…”
Mora released her grip, and Fremy dropped to the ground.
Tgurneu had said that Mora was a true villain. Was it right? Mora doubted that many in the world were as evil as her. She had sworn to her husband that she would not kill any of the Braves of the Six Flowers. She had sworn to her daughter that she would save the world. But in the shadows, she had been preparing to kill one of the Six Braves—meticulously, deftly, and secretly.
Mora picked up her iron gauntlets, heaved Fremy over her shoulder, and ran off toward the Bud of Eternity. “I’m sorry, Shenira.” She apologized not to the Saint slung over her shoulder but to her beloved daughter far away. “I’m sorry this is the kind of mother I am.”
The unconscious Fremy breathed quietly on her shoulder. It would be easy for Mora to snap her neck. But she couldn’t kill Fremy—not here, not yet. She had put a lot of time and effort into working out her plan, and she was not yet ready to kill one of the Six Braves. The plan required the help of a certain someone, someone she had reared and trained for the purpose of implementing her plan to kill a Brave.
Rolonia Manchetta, Saint of Blood. Mora had kept the child prodigy close at hand, taking on the role of her teacher and training her personally.
She had raised her for the purpose of killing one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.
Chapter 5
The Traitor’s Truth
When Mora had first met Rolonia, the girl had had nothing.
Six months after making her agreement with Tgurneu, Mora received troublesome news.
