“I can’t believe it. Fiends carved out this whole thing?” Rolonia marveled.
“The fiends have been preparing for their battle with the Braves of the Six Flowers for three hundred years. Digging a ravine like this is nothing to them,” said Fremy.
“How will we cross it?” Mora asked. “Tgurneu will eventually notice our departure from the forest. The fiends will surge in, and we’ll be surrounded.” Their expressions were grave as they discussed the situation. Goldof didn’t join in. He just stood in silence.
It had been four days since Nashetania had told them all that she was the seventh and then disappeared. For Goldof, those days had been an unending nightmare. Everything in front of him seemed so terribly far away. His thoughts wouldn’t settle down, and he felt hollow, as if he’d abandoned his emotions somewhere. Was he sad? Was he angry? He couldn’t even figure out that much.
All of his memories felt vague to him: Rolonia’s appearance, their excursion into the Howling Vilelands, their fight with Tgurneu, Adlet figuring out Tgurneu’s plot to trick Mora, their talk at the Bud of Eternity, and how they’d all worked together to get through the Cut-Finger Forest. Goldof couldn’t remember much of anything. Fremy and Mora had said that they were suspicious of him, and Adlet had tried many times to encourage him. But not even that mattered to him.
“Isn’t there a bridge, Fremy?” asked Adlet.
“There is. One at the northern end, and another at the southern end. But I don’t think either one is an option. Cargikk’s minions are waiting for us there, and the bridges are set up to immediately self-destruct if we ever get close to crossing.”
“Hey, Fremy,” Chamo interjected. “Aren’t there any secret paths? Like some way to get across safely without the bridges?”
“There’d be no need, would there? Since the fiends always use the bridges.”
The group tossed around some ideas for how to cross the ravine. Goldof couldn’t join in. Even if he did try, his thoughts wouldn’t come together. If he attempted to talk, he wouldn’t know what to say. Four days ago, Goldof had lost the ability to speak fluently. It had been a very long time since Goldof had been that taciturn boy. Over the past six years, he’d learned the speech and conduct appropriate for a knight. But now, he couldn’t remember how he had talked before.
He looked out over the ravine. He wasn’t trying to devise a way to cross it. He was looking for Nashetania. In the four days he’d been in the Howling Vilelands, his search for her had not stopped.
“…”
He recalled the events of four days ago, after Nashetania had confessed to her crime and fled into the forest.
Three of the Braves ran through the dark forest: Hans, Chamo, and Mora. They were in pursuit of Nashetania, who had just escaped them. Adlet was passed out on the ground while Fremy treated his wounds. It was well into the night, and dawn was close.
In the dark forest, Goldof stood alone, in front of the temple.
“Has Nashetania come this way, Goldof?” Mora asked him from within the forest.
He shook his head.
“We have no leads, either. It seems we’ve lost sight of her entirely. I’d rather kill her tonight, if possible, though,” said Mora.
Mora had said that though the Phantasmal Barrier had been nullified, its effects would continue for a while until the mist had cleared entirely. Nashetania would not be able to escape the barrier yet, not for the whole night. Hans and Mora had said that if they failed to kill her within that time, she’d only cause more trouble down the line.
“She seems to be using some strange technique. She has vanished before my eyes many times, and Hans has witnessed the same. You be cautious, too.”
Goldof didn’t even nod. Mora sighed and left.
Sometime after Mora’s departure, a voice came from within the temple. “It sounds like you have them fooled, Goldof.” Nashetania emerged from the large hole in the temple floor. Her armor was cracked and her sword broken, and she was pressing one hand to a gash on her arm. Her face revealed her deep exhaustion. “If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve died…Hans really is a terrifying man,” she said, smiling.
The Braves had her cornered. She didn’t stand a chance against Hans or Chamo, and the assassin had already figured out her mysterious disappearing technique. When she’d run to Goldof, he’d covered for her without hesitation.
“The barrier’s effects will wear off soon. Maybe I can get away now…ngh.” She grimaced. The wounds Hans had given her must have been painful.
“…Why…?” Goldof questioned.
“That’s a rather vague inquiry. What are you trying to ask me?” Nashetania spread both arms with a wry smile. That was the Nashetania he knew: willful, mischievous, honest, and without artifice. Always brimming with confidence, she treated people of every station equally. Though she caused the citizenry trouble, she was also beloved. The girl he knew was still right there.
“Why…why…have you…?” Confused, he couldn’t put it into words.
Seeing his condition, Nashetania gave him a smile that said, Oh, you’re hopeless. “You may not believe this, Goldof, but I am the seventh. I came here with the intention of killing the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
No matter how many times she said it, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.
“No one is controlling me. I’m not doing this because I have no other choice. I fought of my own free will, and I lost. But I won’t give up. I must keep fighting, as long as I live.”
“…What…for? What was the reason…you betrayed us?”
“For the sake of my ambition,” said Nashetania, and for the first time, the look on her face became something unfamiliar to him. Her eyes were filled with serene
