“I remember quite clearly that it often ate them, but I’d never taken notice of it.”
Satisfied by her response, he nodded. “Tgurneu made sure to hide its true nature from you. It pretended to just naturally have a big appetite in order to avoid drawing attention to all those figs. And Tgurneu didn’t tell you about the Archfiend Zophrair so that you wouldn’t know that such an ability existed.”
“…That would explain it, but…” Fremy trailed off.
“Those of you who fought Tgurneu with me must remember,” said Adlet. “It randomly pulled a fig out of the mouth on its chest and ate it, right? Then after that, it suddenly became more powerful. That wasn’t because it stopped going easy on us. That was because of the power of the controller-type to strengthen other fiends.” He examined the sand-covered piece of fig in his hand. “I was surprised, too. I thought all fiends were big—at least as big as humans—and scary. But fundamentally speaking, they can take any shape. It shouldn’t be surprising at all that there’s such a thing as a fig-fiend.”
“Is that really the answer, then?” asked Fremy.
“I can’t guarantee for sure that I’m right. And I can’t deny the possibility that there’s some fiend out there we don’t know about with powers we’ve never heard of. But based off all the clues we’ve gathered so far, this conclusion seems to fit.” Adlet turned his attention to Mora. “Now that I’ve explained all this, you get just how Tgurneu tricked you, I hope?”
“I do.” Three years ago, Tgurneu had sworn to Mora, If I lie, then may this core be shattered. But that core had not been Tgurneu’s—it had been the core of the three-winged fiend.
“The lizard was just a tool being controlled by the real Tgurneu, who saw it as a disposable pawn. From the moment it swore that oath to the Saint of Words, it planned to break its promise.”
Mora was struck dumb. Apparently she could hardly keep up with the swift turn of events.
Adlet said to the group, “Do I have to explain the rest of why Mora is not the seventh? Tgurneu lied to Mora to make her believe she’s the seventh. He tried to trick her. So there’s no way she could be the seventh.”
“Okay, okay, we get it, you don’t have to spell out every little thing,” Chamo pouted.
“I’m…not the seventh?” Mora was still on her knees, dazed. “I’m…I…am a real Brave of the Six Flowers? It…wasn’t a lie? I cannot believe it.”
“Whether you believe it or not, I’m sure you are,” said Adlet, and he extended a hand to her. “Come on, pull yourself together. It’s not just your daughter you have to save—you’ve gotta save the world.”
Mora took his hand.
It had been half coincidence that had enabled Adlet to figure out Tgurneu’s trap. If he had failed to notice that Tgurneu’s body concealed a secret, or had given up trying to solve the mystery, then he probably wouldn’t have figured out the truth. He wouldn’t have realized that Mora was a real Brave, and he probably would have let her die. But even if it was only by sheer coincidence, a win was a win.
Meanwhile, a crowd was gathering in the infirmary of All Heavens Temple. It included Mora’s husband, Ganna Chester; Mora’s elderly mother and father; Willone, Saint of Salt; Marmanna, Saint of Words; Liennril, Saint of Fire; administrators who worked at All Heavens Temple; acolytes who had rushed there from the Temple of Mountains; and Mora’s personal maids. The too-small waiting room of the infirmary couldn’t contain them, and they filled the hallway as well.
“Not yet? Damn it!” Willone, Saint of Salt, muttered in irritation.
“Mora…I believe in you.” In one corner of the room, Ganna was looking down, arms folded.
About thirty minutes earlier, Shenira had complained of slight pain in her chest. When her father had taken a look, he found that the centipede-like mark had disappeared from her skin. Had the parasite died, or was this a portent of strange things to come? Since Ganna didn’t know, he had immediately summoned Torleau. Willone and the people of All Heavens Temple had all rushed over at once.
Torleau emerged from the examination room. All eyes gathered on her. She strode straight to Ganna—then took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “The parasite is gone. Shenira is saved.”
“You did it, boss!” Willone cried, and she raised a fist high. She ran up to Torleau and squeezed her tightly.
The array of people crowded around them cheered, all shaking hands and embracing one another. Some of them even hopped onto the tables, whipped off their jackets, and whirled them around.
“How do you like that, you stinking fiend?! This is what our boss is made of!” Willone pulled away from Torleau to hug anyone and everyone available, her inhuman strength raising a few yelps here and there.
“Are things really okay? She couldn’t have killed one of the Braves, I’m sure,” Marmanna said in an indifferent tone.
“No way!” Willone retorted. “The boss obviously slaughtered that big stupid bastard!”
Torleau’s assistant emerged from the examination room, bringing out Shenira. The tiny girl was frightened of the uproar going on in the waiting room, but Ganna went to her and scooped her into his arms, and then, as if everything he had been holding back now overflowed, he wept.
“All right, time for some booze! If this isn’t a drink-worthy night, what is?! I’ll break out my secret stash!” Willone wrapped an arm around Marmanna’s shoulders.
“You’re jumping the gun,” replied the Saint of Words. “It’s not like they’ve defeated the Evil God yet.”
“We’re just having an advance celebration, come on! Fortune be to the Braves of the Six Flowers! Fortune in battle to all of them! Boss, Rolonia, Chamo, Princess, Goldof, and…um…what was his name? Oh yeah, the Cowardly Warrior Adlet!”
There was no way for any of them to know that Shenira had been saved not
