“Meowgh!”
Mora could hear a popping sound behind her. Using her powers to see, she could tell that was the sound of Hans’s left wrist dislocating. The sword had plunged to its hilt within her. It slipped from Hans’s grasp, and as it did, Mora whipped around to kick him in the face. He threw his upper body backward, and her kick just barely skimmed his forehead. Instantly, he stumbled. Just by grazing him, Mora’s full-power kick had thrown him off balance. Hans rolled away and ran, and she immediately tossed off her iron gauntlets, going after him. She grabbed the hem of his clothes with her fingers and yanked him toward her as hard as she could.
“Lady Mora!” Rolonia cried.
Mora hit Hans in the chest with an open palm and heard his ribs crack. She flung his body to the ground hard enough for it to bounce. She had struck the left side of his chest, which would make a person’s heart stop for a moment and knock them out. No amount of training could enable a human to prevent that.
Mora drew the sword out of her torso and leaned over Hans. Then she pressed the blade to his carotid artery and thrust.
“Hans! Rolonia! Where are you?!” Adlet ran through the night across the mountain. Fremy, Goldof, and the now-conscious Chamo followed behind him. The earlier sound of metal clashing against itself was now gone. Hans had been fighting until a moment ago. Then it was over.
They ran over the mountain, their light gems held high as they searched for Hans. Then Fremy yelled, “Adlet! Look at the back of your hand!”
“!” That was when Adlet noticed the Crest of the Six Flowers that marked his hand—one of the petals was gone. His legs went weak with fear. One of the Braves of the Six Flowers had lost their life. Someone had died—Hans, Rolonia, or Mora. “Hans! Rolonia! Are you dead?!” he yelled, even louder.
Her victory had been by a narrow margin. If Mora had failed to evade his strike at the vital point on her back, she would have been the one to fall. If they had fought ten fights, Hans would have probably won nine of them. He was that much more powerful than her.
The battle was over. Blood spurted from Hans’s neck. Then its flow quickly reduced until it ceased completely. Mora put her hand on his chest. She felt no heartbeat.
“Ahh…ahhhh…” Rolonia was moaning.
Mora stood. Her pierced organs screamed as blood dripped from her lips.
Rolonia approached Hans. Hands shaking, she touched his neck.
“Listen, Rolonia. Do just as I taught you,” Mora said, staggering away from the two of them. She meant to leave them, but her feet got tangled up and she fell. She could hear Adlet’s yells coming close. “Listen to me, Rolonia! Do just as I’ve taught you!” she repeated, rising to her feet again.
Then Adlet appeared, having climbed up the cliff. Mora, her back turned to him, said quietly, “You’re too late, Adlet.” Now it was all over. Mora’s whole fight was over. The parasite should now be gone from Shenira’s chest. Tgurneu would not break its promise, because there was no reason for it to.
Mora told them all that she had killed Hans. She also told them that she was the seventh. As she spoke, she kept her eyes steady on Rolonia as the girl treated Hans. Rolonia was so focused on healing him, it was as if she didn’t even see what was going on around her.
“What’s the meaning of this, Rolonia?” Adlet demanded. “Hans is dead, and you’re not even scratched.”
“You were with him. What were you doing?” Fremy demanded immediately after.
Rolonia didn’t reply to either of them.
Good, thought Mora. She and Torleau, Saint of Medicine, had told Rolonia over and over to concentrate only on her work when using healing techniques.
Chamo approached Mora where she knelt and hit her with her tiny fists, yelling and punching, faint tears welling in her eyes. Mora was surprised that Chamo would get so upset over Hans. She hadn’t realized the young Saint had been fond of him.
They’ll kill me. Everything in front of her seemed very far away. Was this what it felt like to be on death’s door? “This was not my desire. I did not wish to kill Hans. Not him, not anyone,” she said. She meant it to be her final testament.
“What did you say?”
“There was nothing for me to do but kill him. Every avenue aside from his murder was closed to me.” A single tear fell from her eye. “I wanted to protect the world. I wanted to defeat the fiends together with you, to stop the revival of the Evil God.”
“Who could believe that?” snapped Chamo.
“Up until just yesterday—no, up until one hour ago—I had every intention of doing just that,” Mora said, and instantly, Chamo grabbed her by the collar.
“Don’t you lie!” she shouted, her eyes burning.
But Mora wasn’t looking at her. She was focused only on Rolonia treating Hans. “You cannot just circulate his blood, Rolonia. It will quickly become impure. Return the blood that’s drained from him.”
“What’re you talking about? Look at me, Auntie!” Chamo hit Mora’s face, but the woman’s eyes did not leave Rolonia.
“What are you doing, Rolonia? There isn’t enough blood. Do you not understand? I thought I taught you this!”
The timid Saint finally reacted. “Y-yes, ma’am. The blood…Hans’s blood…” Rolonia put one hand on the ground, and then focused her nerves.
“It’s difficult to use two techniques simultaneously. But you, Rolonia—you should be capable of it now!”
With her hand on the blood-soaked earth, the healer took a few deep breaths.
“What’re you doing, Rolonia? Look at me. I’ve got questions for you, too,” demanded Chamo.
Fremy, watching beside her, spoke as well. “It’s no use. His heart has stopped, and he’s lost most of his blood.”
“…I can’t…do the wrist…” Rolonia muttered. As she focused all her
