Their destination was the Bud of Eternity. He didn’t know what had happened, but any clues as to whatever it was would probably be there.
“…The seventh is…Mora. But why make her move now?”
As Adlet ran, he thought back on Mora’s behavior. There had been some suspicious things about her. But if she really was the enemy, then her actions up until this point made no sense.
They made their way at a steady clip, and it wasn’t long before they’d reached the Bud of Eternity. When Adlet stepped into the cave, he immediately discovered Fremy and Chamo. “Are you okay?!” he cried, raising Fremy into a sitting position.
She moaned quietly, her eyes opening a crack. Apparently she had just been put to sleep. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” Once she was standing, she picked up her gun.
“What happened?” asked Adlet.
“Mora attacked me. I passed out, and when I woke up, I was here. Other than that, I have no idea—not why she attacked me, or why she didn’t kill me, either.”
“…Chamo is…all right, too,” remarked Goldof as he checked on the girl. It looked like she’d just been sleeping, too, and she didn’t seem to be injured badly.
“Goldof, let’s worry about the treatment later!” said Adlet. “We’re going to go capture Mora!” Adlet and Fremy ran off, and the knight followed, Chamo in his arms.
In a mere three minutes of battle, it had become painfully clear to Mora that she had no chance of winning. Before she had been chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers, she had studied various techniques and worked together with other Saints to develop new weapons. But she had never anticipated an enemy like this, one who moved so fast in such a bizarre way.
Mora’s body had been sliced to ribbons. Blood gushed from the artery in her upper arm. She’d been kicked in the side, and she sported a broken rib. There were also deep wounds in both her legs, and she wasn’t even sure if she would be able to run. Blood streamed down her forehead, obscuring her vision, and it was hard to see Hans properly.
“Lady Mora, please, stop this fight! You can’t win,” Rolonia pleaded.
Hans prevented her from coming near. “Meow-hee. Yer still on her side?”
“Are you the seventh, Lady Mora? You’re not, right? This is some kind of mistake, right? Please, stop this!”
“Not gonna happen. I’m killin’ her neow.”
“Hans…”
Vision blurred, Mora glared at Rolonia. And then, in a murderous tone, she said, “Get back. Our battle is not yet done.”
“There ya go,” said Hans. “Let’s do this.” He darted in.
Mora raised both of her gauntlets before her face, glued both elbows to her sides, and then curled her body with her knees in front of her. In that extreme, balled-up stance, she jumped backward. She held her body like a turtle to shield herself.
“I’m not lettin’ ya get away!” Hans sliced at the cracks in her defense, unleashing one strike after another.
Mora weathered his attacks with only the smallest possible movements. She just had to block any fatal wounds, whatever it took. “Ngh!” As she fought back the pain, she hopped backward some more, frantically maneuvering in order that he not get around behind her. She was already wounded all over. She had no strength left to fight back.
“Ngh…ah…” Unable to act, Rolonia stood still, sobbing as she watched them fight.
Hans was cautious and patient. He didn’t rush; he just waited for Mora to wear herself out. He was fully aware of what she was trying to do. She would wait for him to attack and open himself up, and then she would strike back. That was the only way that Mora would be able to win at this point.
“Hmeow. Givin’ up yet?” Hans twirled his blades. “Sorry, meow, it’s too late. I’m havin’ a blast, here. This ain’t gonna end till yer dead,” he said, and then recommenced his attack. Mora tucked her body inward again, doing all she could to withstand the assault.
She was impatient. Adlet and Goldof would be there soon, and surely they’d already figured out that she’d lied to them. They would capture Mora and kill her. But if she attacked now, she would lose. If she made any move at all, it would open her up, and Hans would never miss that. There was nothing she could do but continue guarding. She hadn’t given up. She was going to save Shenira. Mora had lost everything, and all that remained was this one desire. If she were to give up on that, too, then all she had would be gone.
“Saints sure are tough, meow. If ya don’t hurry up and die soon, I’m gonna lose confidence in myself!” Hans’s strikes became even more powerful. Mora was certain he intended to end this. His sword skimmed past her head, and a sliver of her scalp flew away, hair attached. He cut her legs, and she collapsed to her knees. He circled around behind her.
Mora’s eyes were closed, but with her power of clairvoyance, she watched everything around her so that she wouldn’t miss the moment Hans came to attack her from behind. “Urmya-meow!” Hans aimed for her midback, just under her ribs. It was one of the vital spots of the human body—the kidney. When an assassin wanted to make a sure kill from behind, they would always aim for the kidney.
The instant before the tip of the blade stabbed into her back, Mora twisted just a bit, and the blade missed its mark slightly. Mustering her remaining strength, she tensed her back. “AAAAARGH!” she roared, and slammed her own body onto Hans’s sword.
The sword impaled her torso. The cold sensation of the blade slicing her organs rushed through her. Tensing the muscles of her back with all her strength, she held it fast within her body. As she did, she stretched out her legs and pushed back on the blade as hard as she could, with
