As Goldof brooded over this, the others were moving on with their discussion. It sounded like they still couldn’t find a way to cross Cargikk’s Canyon.
“Anyway, standing around talking won’t get us anywhere,” Adlet was saying. “We’ll split into three groups to look for a way across. Find us something we can work with, no matter how trivial. Hans and Mora, you go north. Me, Rolonia, and Goldof will go south. Chamo and Fremy, you stay here and guard our backs.”
“This is shaping up to be a more troublesome obstacle than I expected,” said Mora.
Goldof couldn’t tell the others about his troubles. They wouldn’t understand, anyway—no one besides him could.
Tormenting himself over this was exhausting. The mental back-and-forth had whittled away at him. He’d never been a bastion of emotional fortitude.
Right now he wanted only one thing: to see Nashetania one more time. He longed to see her and talk with her. That was the only answer he’d gleaned from this directionless agonizing. But now Goldof couldn’t even make that tiny little wish come true.
“Let’s go, Goldof,” said Adlet. Apparently, the three of them were going to look for a means to cross the ravine.
Gazing out over the ravine, Goldof wondered, Will she be there, on the other side of that gorge? Will I get the chance to see her safely one more time?
Not long before, the traitor herself had been in the volcanic zone to the southeast, sitting on a boulder and watching the distant sky. Dozzu was on her lap, and Nashetania was holding him, her arm loose around its neck. There were more than fifty fiends around her—a lizard-fiend with rock skin, a long and lithe monkey-fiend, a silver-pelted wolf-fiend. They silently awaited her orders.
“I wonder what Goldof is thinking right now,” Dozzu muttered softly, for Nashetania’s ears only.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s worrying over things—whether to join us or stick with the Six Braves. And most of all right now, he wants to see me. That’s probably all.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“This is Goldof we’re talking about. Of course I know what he’s thinking,” she said with a smile.
“You’ve grown up to be so cruel. I actually feel sorry for the boy, being used like this.”
“What are you talking about? This is precisely what he’s always craved, I’m sure—for me to use him.” Nashetania fiddled with Dozzu’s ear, grinning wickedly. “And besides, you’re the one who made me this way, aren’t you?”
“Quite right. You’ve grown to be so wonderfully ruthless.” On her lap, Dozzu smiled, too.
“It won’t be long until our preparations are complete. Let’s trust in Goldof. I’m positive he’ll do a fine job for us.”
Searing-hot steam hissed up from the bottom of the ravine. Goldof leaned forward, feeling the scalding vapor on his cheeks as he peered down. No matter how carefully he examined the area, he couldn’t find anywhere that looked viable. In a similar fashion, Adlet and Rolonia were surveying the area. When Goldof happened to glance up at the sky, he caught sight of a moth-fiend flying southeast.
“…Hey, Addy,” called Rolonia.
“Did you find something?”
Adlet and Rolonia were discussing something. They seemed to be concerned about the moth-fiend, but Goldof wasn’t bothered. He vacantly returned his gaze to the depths of the chasm.
Then it happened. Suddenly, without warning, it began.
The ring of a bell reached his ears. He lifted his head and looked around. There was nothing nearby that would make that sound. Adlet and Rolonia didn’t seem to have heard anything. Deep in conversation, they were focused on the sky. No one else could hear the ringing.
That was when Goldof realized it was coming from the Helm of Allegiance. This was the first time it had activated since he’d first received it two years ago. This would happen only when the wearer’s master had been captured. Someone had taken Nashetania.
The noise inside the helmet was piercing, like someone flailing a bell around in a panic. Goldof recalled what Nashetania had told him—it rang like this when the wearer’s master was in grave danger.
“Your Highness? Your Highness? What happened?” His hands jumped to his helmet, and he called out to her.
“…dof…if you’re still…my…” He could hear Nashetania’s voice coming from the helmet. It sounded broken, like she was struggling to breathe.
The moment Goldof heard her voice, a jolt of dread shot through him. It felt like something was coiling around his heart and squeezing. “Your Highness? Who’s captured you? Where are you?” he called out to her quietly. He’d completely forgotten that she was his enemy.
“Tgurneu’s captured me…south of the Cut-Finger Forest…the lava zone…in a fiend’s stoma—”
Then came a noise like something collapsing under pressure, and after that, pained rasping and a retching sound. Instantly, he realized that her throat had been crushed.
Goldof’s rational mind was telling him, You don’t have to go save her. She’s the Braves’ enemy; she’s a traitor; she’s abandoned you; she’s sided against the human race. But his emotions descended upon him with a vengeance, urging him to rescue her. Someone was killing her. He’d lived to protect her. Abandoning her would mean the death of his soul.
His heart was wreathed in black flames. It felt just like when he’d charged into that noble’s mansion alone, six years ago, to save Nashetania. When this fire was burning, reason, fear, presence of mind—everything turned to ash, and Goldof could think of nothing but battle. He stood and began marching south. He had to.
“What’s wrong, Goldof?” Rolonia called as he set out.
But he didn’t stop. Starting slow and gradually accelerating, he headed southeast.
“Hey, don’t just run off. We’re not doing anything over that way right now.” Adlet grabbed his shoulder.
Don’t get in my way, thought Goldof. Everyone who hindered him should drown into a sea of blood. He
