“Meow-hee, I don’t think there’s meowch point though,” said Hans.
“Of course, we will kill no one until we find definitive proof,” assured Mora. “This is ultimately just for possible reference in the future.”
“Well…I guess we don’t have much choice,” said Adlet, deflating.
“I suspect Goldof.” Fremy was the first to speak. “He served Nashetania. He’s the most obvious suspect.”
“Oh? Chamo suspects you, Fremy,” Chamo cut in. “It’s so obvious. You were our enemy until just a little while ago. Chamo hasn’t forgotten that fight, you know.”
“I’m sure. Anyone else?” Fremy seemed unbothered by Chamo’s remarks.
“…Speaking frankly, I suspect Goldof as well,” Mora said next. “His service to Nashetania doesn’t prove he’s the seventh. However, I sense nothing that suggests he’s truly devoted to our victory.”
Goldof silently listened to the three speak. With listless eyes, he gazed vacantly at the ground, hunched over where he sat. He had been like that ever since they had arrived at the Howling Vilelands.
“Goldof, if you aren’t the seventh, should you not contribute more to the group? You must show us with your words and your attitude that you’re not the traitor. It can’t be pleasant to be suspected like this.” But Mora’s concern didn’t reach him. His heart was still closed to her words, if he even heard them at all.
When Adlet had first met Goldof, he had been far different. He’d been a strong, loyal young knight, slightly arrogant on occasion—or that was the impression Adlet had gotten, anyway. But once Nashetania had left them, it was as if he’d become an entirely different person.
“What do you think, Goldof?” asked Adlet. But the youth kept his silence.
Chamo raised her hand again. “Yeah, so Fremy’s suspicious and all, but Chamo thinks Rolonia’s weird, too.”
“Eeep!” Rolonia, who had been listening quietly thus far, yelped with a hint of hysteria. “Wh-wh-why…might that be?”
“Hmm, well…’cause who knows what you’re really thinking, you know? It’s just fishy.”
“I…I see…I-I’m sorry. I’ll, um…try harder,” Rolonia said, trembling like a leaf.
“Oh, but maybe it really is Fremy, after all. Yeah, my money’s on Fremy,” Chamo declared flippantly.
Mora sighed. “What about you, Hans?” she asked.
Hans put a hand on his chin, considering for a moment. “Me…? I’ve got my doubts about Adlet an’ Chamo, meow.” All present, aside from Goldof, looked at Hans with surprise. “I’m not thinkin’ about who’s fishy. What’s important to me is who we’d have to worry about most if they was the seventh. If one of us is the seventh, the most dangerous’d be Adlet and next’d be Chamo. That’s why I suspect ’em.”
Adlet was a bit impressed. That’s one way to think about it.
“So what about mew, Rolonia?” Hans passed the question on to her. Rolonia examined the faces around her, seemingly reluctant to speaking.
“Just say it,” Fremy advised her. “Chamo just said she doesn’t know what you’re really thinking, didn’t she?”
Very quietly, Rolonia said, “I suspect…Goldof. It’s…for the same reasons as Lady Mora.”
Three of the five so far had chosen Goldof. The situation didn’t bode well for him, whether he was a real Brave or the impostor. But still he showed no sign that any of this had affected him.
“What about you, Adlet?” asked Fremy.
“I won’t say. I’m the leader. If I announce who I suspect, it’ll damage trust,” Adlet said flatly.
“Well, meowbe that’s fer the best,” said Hans.
All eyes turned to the final member, Goldof. He raised his head, and his empty gaze wandered over the others.
“Goldof,” said Hans. “Whaddaya think? You’re listenin’ to our talk, ain’tcha, meow?”
“…I’ve been listening,” Goldof said after a pause.
“So who d’ya suspect, meow?”
“…Nobody.” His declaration confused them all. Should this have been taken as a confession that he was the seventh? “I don’t…care who’s the seventh. I don’t care…at all.”
“Goldof. That attitude is the very reason Rolonia and I are suspicious of you.” Mora was finally getting angry. “Why will you not think about who the seventh might be? Why will you not tell us what you know about Nashetania? Do you really want to protect the world?!”
“…Protect…the world?” Just for a moment, life returned to Goldof’s eyes. He looked at his palms and then clenched his fists. “Yeah…Mora…I’ll…protect the world. I have to…protect it…I’ll…protect the world…That was why I…” His fists began trembling with a strange creaking sound. His grip was so tight the bones in his hands were grinding together.
“That’s right, Goldof. You’ll keep everyone safe. Are you with us again?” Mora put her hand over Goldof’s, but he coldly shook her off. Then, once his head dropped down again, he wouldn’t reply no matter what the others tried.
“Well, that was pointless,” said Fremy.
“So it seems. I’m sorry,” Mora apologized.
“Enough about this,” said Hans. “I care meowr about Tgurneu.”
“Right,” Fremy said. “The Cut-Finger Forest is ahead of us. Tgurneu is probably waiting to ambush us there.”
Even once the conversation turned to other matters, Adlet kept watching Goldof. I’ll protect the world. For some reason, Goldof’s claim had not felt promising to him. In all honesty, though Adlet hadn’t said so, he suspected Goldof, too—he just didn’t seem to be a part of the group.
Even amid the paranoia smothering the party, they’d still been building a sense of unity. Hans, Adlet acknowledged, was sharp and skilled. Despite his remarks just now, Adlet knew the assassin trusted him. Chamo was a handful, but Adlet had discovered she was surprisingly tractable sometimes, and even cute. Mora had betrayed them once, but her desire to protect her family and her allies was real. He was glad to have Rolonia with them, since she trusted him from the bottom of her heart and would always back him up. Fremy was always at odds with him, but still, in his eyes, she was the most important of all.
But Goldof was different. Adlet had simply been unable to communicate with him. There was nothing inside him that Adlet could understand; sometimes the young knight seemed like an alien beast to him. He still had no idea who Goldof Auora really was.
It was the
