There were many remnants of their battle on this hill. The bodies of a number of fiends. The poison needles that Adlet had thrown. The bullets Fremy had fired. The footprints where Mora’s feet had plunged deep into the ground. The lashes of Rolonia’s whip. Adlet examined these as he searched his memory, going out to try to locate the place where this evidence should be. He pushed aside the sparsely growing grass and smoothed the dry sand, carefully searching. He had to keep an eye on where he was stepping, too. The thing they were searching for was very small. If one of them kicked it by accident, it would probably fly off somewhere, and if they stepped on it, it might be crushed.
It was nearly the time they had promised Mora and the others they would return. Adlet lifted his head and looked to the west. Were they safe? And was Tgurneu still inside the barrier?
“Meow!” After about ten minutes of looking, Hans had already admitted defeat.
“Don’t be so loud,” said Adlet. “You’ll attract enemies.”
“I can’t take no more of this. There’s nothin’ I hate meowr than rummagin’ through a haystack to find a needle,” complained Hans, sprawled out on the ground.
Adlet paid him no mind and continued his search.
“What’re ya thinkin’, Adlet? How does findin’ somethin’ like that prove anything?”
“I don’t have time to explain.”
“You’ve figured it out, right? The answer to Tgurneu’s mystery? That’s all ya need.”
It didn’t work like that. Adlet’s idea was far too fantastical. He himself would not believe it until he saw the proof with his own eyes.
“Let’s stop lookin’ for this thing and hurry back. I’m worried about the others,” said Hans.
“Th-they’ll be okay,” said Rolonia. “Lady Mora is at the Bud of Eternity. If anything happens, she should be able to manage things, somehow.”
“Rolonia, why do ya trust Mora so much?” asked Hans. “She’s pretty suspicious.”
“She’s a great woman. I can’t even imagine she could be our enemy.” Hans didn’t reply. Still sprawled on the ground, he scratched his neck.
Mora’s clairvoyance alerted her to something unusual. Seven fiends were nearing the Bud of Eternity. They stopped right at the edge of the barrier, where the repulsion force didn’t reach.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Commander Tgurneu has ordered us to hèlp you kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.” The one that spoke was one of the commander’s companions from before, the stone man-fiend.
Just how well prepared is Tgurneu? The thought made Mora shiver.
“It seems thère was no need for us to come. You’re just the kind of person Commander Tgürneu knew you were. We saw you a moment agö with Fremy over your shoulder.”
Mora raised her fists and answered coldly, “Leave this place. Now. Go to the southern edge of the mountain and feign death. Stay there and await my direction.”
“You still havén’t killed her? Why not?”
“I have no need to tell you.”
“Don’t you wänt to save your daughter?”
“If you do anything at all contrary to my orders, then this plan to kill a Brave stops immediately. I will reveal that I’m the seventh and surrender myself. This is no bluff.”
The fiend looked Mora in the eyes for a moment, pondering. At this fiend’s level of intellect, it should not catch on to what she was trying to do. “We häve been told to follow your orders,” said the fiend.
“Then go now. Or would you die here?”
The fiends immediately moved out.
Now Chamo would soon return, having heard the gunshot. Mora had to hurry and prepare. It was two more days until Tgurneu’s deadline. Her only chance was that night. Adlet’s party was busy with figuring out Tgurneu’s mystery, and Chamo did not yet suspect her. That night would be her only chance. There was much to do. She had to incapacitate Fremy and Chamo, then lure the other four back and split them into two groups. She would then create a situation where she, her target, and Rolonia were the only ones present. Then she would fight the target and win. Every step of this plan had to work, or it would fail.
Mora caught sight of Chamo with her clairvoyant eye. She was astride a gigantic slug fiend, accompanied by five other slave-fiends. “Fremy! You killed Auntie, didn’t you?!” She was making a beeline for the location where Tgurneu had been moments ago. When she found that no one was there, she was confused. “Auntie! Where did you go?! Are you dead?!” Scurrying about on the giant slug, she ordered her fiends to search the area.
Meanwhile, Mora went into the cave, Fremy slung over her shoulder. Once inside, she pulled a metal tube from her packs and stomped on it. The fluid inside splattered, and Mora kicked it around to disperse it with her feet.
“Auntie! Are you really dead?! You dummy! Why’d you have to die?!” When Mora checked with her powers, she found that Chamo was still searching for her. “You numbskull! Piece of poop! Weakling! Useless lump! You’re so stupid, Auntie!” Mora couldn’t tell if Chamo was cursing her or worried about her. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she chuckled.
Then Chamo seemed to realize something and rolled up the hem of her skirt to look at the Crest of the Six Flowers on her thigh. “Oh! She’s still alive.” Apparently Chamo had finally remembered that every time a Brave died, a petal disappeared from the crest.
Mora began to drip with cold sweat. Next, she had to incapacitate the most powerful Saint alive. If her luck was poor, she would be dead before long. With her mountain echoes, she shouted, “ADLET! CHAMO! COME BACK! IT’S A TRAP!”
“Auntie?”
Mora had modulated her cry so it would only reach Chamo. Adlet and the others, on the distant hill, would not be able to hear.
“Where are you? Where are you, Auntie?!”
“THE BUD—” Mora cut off before she finished the sentence. That would be enough for Chamo to get it.
As Mora had expected, Chamo headed back
