“Something’s fishy, Adlet,” said Fremy.
“Yeah, I think so, too,” he agreed. They halted their assault, slowed down, and ran just fast enough as to not let Nashetania slip away entirely.
“What’s wrong? We’re not going to fight them?” Rolonia was confused.
Nashetania would know that she could not evade them forever just by running around the one-kilometer circle, and there was no way she could keep defending herself with just twenty fiends. If that was all, then she practically showed up just to get herself killed. But Nashetania had to have something else up her sleeve, maybe a special means of getting away. As they continued tailing her, Adlet pondered what the trick might be.
Fremy had clearly noticed, too, and tried to puzzle out what Nashetania was thinking. “This feels like a diversion to me, Adlet.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Is she waiting to be attacked?”
“…Maybe to spring the same kind of trap as the one she pulled on Chamo,” Fremy suggested.
But Adlet didn’t think that was possible. On the way to the Howling Vilelands, he had journeyed together with Nashetania for eleven days. Once he had discovered that she was the impostor, he had reinspected himself and all his equipment, thinking she might have placed something on him during that time. But he’d found nothing odd. At the very least, she hadn’t set any traps on his person. Fremy and Nashetania had been in contact for only one day. It seemed unlikely that Nashetania would have had the time to sneak something on her, and this was the first time she had ever met Rolonia. Adlet figured that Chamo was the only one who had been loaded with a blade gem.
“Would there be any other reason for Nashetania to be such an obvious idiot?” asked Fremy.
That was when it hit him. “Fremy, have you been watching Nashetania this whole time?”
“No, I lost track of her a number of times…Oh. A transforming-type fiend?”
Adlet nodded.
Rolonia said, “Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean that the Nashetania we’re chasing right now might be a fake, a transforming-type fiend in disguise,” Adlet clarified.
Some fiends could transform into any shape they wanted, and there were more than a few of them. Adlet had encountered one such creature himself during the Phantasmal Barrier fight. A shape-shifter wouldn’t be able to transform into Adlet or Hans. In order to create the perfect replica of someone, the fiend needed either that person’s cooperation or access to their corpse. So one could have easily disguised itself as Nashetania.
“At the very least, the Nashetania we fought was the real one—she used the power of blades and activated Chamo’s blade gem. But there’s no guarantee that one over there is the real thing.”
“Hans and I did lose sight of Nashetania,” said Fremy. “She had enough time to make the switch.”
“I understand,” said Rolonia. “So that’s what’s going on. But how can we tell which is the real one?”
“If we see her using the power of blades, we’ll know she’s the real one,” said Adlet. “We’ve also got another sure-fire way to know what she really is. Don’t we, Rolonia?”
“What do you mean?” Rolonia, behind him, tilted her head in thought.
So she hasn’t realized it?
The three of them sped up their chase after Nashetania. They were already only about thirty meters away from her and her pack of fiends. Still astride the wolf-fiend, she looked back at them. She was apparently expecting Fremy to shoot, so Adlet figured he could surprise her. What he needed to watch out for was Nashetania’s stealth ability—but he already knew how to counteract that, too.
“Let’s go!” Adlet yelled.
Instantly, Rolonia’s whip wound around him. She planted her feet and lifted him into the air. “Be careful, Addy!” she cried, throwing him. As he hurtled through the air, arcing down toward Nashetania’s wolf-fiend, he drew a small knife. Attached to the handle was a fine chain that wrapped around Adlet’s arm.
“Eek!” Nashetania blocked the knife with her left arm. As blood poured from her left wrist, a cute yelp escaped her. Dozens of blades sliced up from the ground toward Adlet as he flew. He blocked them with his sword and the iron plates fitted into his boots. The blades scored him with tiny cuts before he landed on the wolf-fiend’s back.
“Watch out, Adlet!” Fremy yelled. Nashetania stabbed at his throat. Adlet blocked her sword with an armored shoulder as he pulled out a secret tool—a tiny, poison-filled bottle. She smacked it away with her weapon, but Adlet had anticipated that she’d avoid it. The bottle was just a decoy, and the real attack came from his own sword.
“…Ngh!” Nashetania ducked. He was so close to knocking her off the fiend’s back. But then the wolf-fiend twisted, bucking Adlet off.
“This is our chance! We’ll take him out, all together!” Nashetania cried, holding her wounded left arm. Fiends surged toward where Adlet had fallen on the ground.
But Fremy fired off a round in his defense, and Rolonia wrapped her whip around his hand. Once he was holding on, Rolonia heaved him up with an “Up we go!” like she was reeling in a fish. Adlet kept the fiends at bay with a smoke bomb during his retreat.
“We bungled that one. Well, no matter. Let’s run!” Nashetania said to the fiends that were about to pursue Adlet. They obeyed her orders and guarded her as she fled.
“We blew it,” said Fremy.
Adlet had been left lying on the ground after Rolonia had reeled him in, and Fremy helped him up. They’d been so close, and Nashetania had gotten away, but it hadn’t been in vain. Adlet showed Rolonia his tiny, bloodstained knife. “Do your thing, Rolonia.”
“…Oh, that’s what you meant.”
He handed the knife to her and immediately set off again. They couldn’t lose sight of Nashetania and her entourage.
As they ran, Rolonia licked the blood off the knife blade. As the Saint of Spilled Blood, she possessed the ability to analyze blood by taste. Never slowing down, she rolled the liquid around in her mouth for a time.
“…So Rolonia?” Fremy asked.
“I’ve never tasted Nashetania’s blood before, but…this is from a female in her teens. A powerful Saint. It seems she’s exhausted, but generally in good health, and she’s had a very affluent lifestyle. I think it’s safe to say this is Nashetania’s blood.”
“So we’re chasing the real one, then, huh?” said Adlet. They were lagging behind again, about a hundred meters back. He could see that she was observing them closely from the wolf-fiend’s back. “Though we knew she was the real thing once she used the power of blades, anyway. But it’s good to be doubly sure.”
“Did you learn anything else, Rolonia?”
“Well…though this is human blood, it tastes like a fiend. It’s really abnormal. It’s mixed with the blood of a fiend with strong restorative capabilities…and the blood of another with great physical strength…and the blood of some fiend I can’t understand at all. I don’t have the slightest idea how such blood would come to exist.” Rolonia continued, panting.
“Great, Rolonia. Even that much is enough,” said Adlet, and he grinned. He didn’t know what Nashetania was plotting. But the real one was only a hundred meters away—they knew that for sure. They couldn’t let this opportunity slip from their grasp. “We’re gonna run as fast as we can to finish her off. Don’t let your guard down,” he said. Fremy’s eyes turned grim, and Rolonia swallowed.
Fremy fired a shot to slow the fiends down while Adlet tossed a grenade. Bit by bit, the pursuers neared their prey. The enemy forces numbered fewer now, too—the three of them would be more than a match for the fiends.
“Fremy, you and me are gonna blast them with every explosive we have,” said Adlet. “Then all three of us will charge in. You hold off the fiends. Rolonia, you use your whip to break Nashetania’s blades. Leave finishing her off to me. Got it?” Rolonia readied her whip while Fremy created bombs in her hands. Adlet pulled tools from pouches at his waist for his final preparati
ons.
“Please, come on! Can’t you run any faster?!” Nashetania cried, smacking the rear of the wolf-fiend under her. Was her panic an act, or was it real? Adlet couldn’t tell.
“Once she’s over that mountain, go for her.” But right as the words left his mouth, something flew toward them from a long way away. He heard it ripping through the air. When Adlet skidded to a stop, a spear was stuck in the ground right in front of him.
“!”
All three of them turned to look toward the source of the missile. It was the opposite direction from where Chamo lay in the pit.
When the hell did he get here? No—maybe he’s been close for a while. They had been so focused on chasing Nashetania, they hadn’t been keeping an eye on their surroundings. “He’s here.” Adlet scowled. He couldn’t say he was happy to see the man was safe. Goldof Auora was looking down on them from the top of a rock mound.
“Why did you throw your spear at us, Goldof?” Rolonia murmured.
He didn’t say anything, only watching them in silence.
Nashetania took advantage of the pause to put some more distance between them, and Fremy dashed after her. Goldof savagely gave chase himself.
“Rolonia! Stop him!” Adlet yelled. There was no more time for hesitation. He drew his sword and ran at Goldof, hardening his resolve to attack. Goldof would have heard Mora’s mountain echo; he should know that Nashetania had attacked Chamo and that their ally’s life was on the line. But he was still trying to protect Nashetania. Adlet had no choice but to consider him their enemy.
Fremy pitched a bomb at Goldof. He protected his face with his hands and made a running jump to one side to avoid the blast. Despite his heavy armor, he was agile enough to put Adlet to shame. Once he was on his feet again, he resumed his charge at Fremy.
“Oh no, you don’t!” From the side, Adlet threw a poison needle at him. Goldof dodged it without looking up or stopping, but as he did, Fremy fired a bullet into his chest. He was launched backward, head over heels. But his thick armor protected him from the bullet, and the shot wasn’t enough to kill him.
“Fremy! Rolonia!” Adlet yelled to the pair. “You follow Nashetania! Let me handle Goldof!” Their target was racing away from them.
But when the two girls tried to chase her, Goldof spoke for the first time. “…I can’t let you go.” He was on his feet and bolting for Fremy again.
Adlet pulled out a tear-gas canister and lobbed it at him. Goldof covered his eyes and mouth with his hands, dashing out of the smoke. It wasn’t enough to slow him down.
With a roar, Adlet leaped toward the running Goldof, slamming his sword down onto his shoulder. Goldof blocked the strike with a gauntlet and gripped both Adlet’s arms to throw him backwards. Then he completely barred Rolonia from further pursuit by seizing her armor and flinging her down. She tumbled along the ground, heavy armor and all.
“Ngh!”
Adlet and Rolonia both stood up at the same time. He had gotten careless because Goldof didn’t have his spear—but the boy was formidable in unarmed combat, too.
“Fremy! Don’t worry about us! You can’t lose sight of Nashetania!” Adlet yelled.
Fremy nodded and rejoined the chase.
Goldof muttered something unintelligible and tried to sprint off after Fremy, but Adlet and Rolonia stood in his way.
“You…handle Fremy!” Goldof yelled loudly. Who was he talking to? Nashetania, or a third ally? He spread his arms and hunched low, turning back to Adlet and Rolonia. It looked like he was going to see this fight through to the end.
“Wait, please, Goldof!” Rolonia said, sounding frightened as she readied her whip.
“…You’re in the way,” Goldof said, and Rolonia shrank back a step.
“Why, Goldof?” Adlet said as he briefly retreated to pull Goldof’s spear out from where it was stuck in the ground. He sheathed his sword and raised the spear instead. It was heavy and unwieldy, but it wasn’t unusable. “You get what’s going on, don’t you? Chamo is about to die. We have no choice but to kill Nashetania to save her. Didn’t you hear Mora’s mountain echo?”
“Please stop, Goldof! We have to defeat Nashetania. We have no choice if we want save Chamo,” said Rolonia. But it had no effect on Goldof’s battle-ready stance.
“Goldof, talk to us,” said Adlet. “Who tricked you? And how?”
“It’s the same as what happened with Mora, right?” Rolonia chimed in. “You’ve been coerced to fight us somehow, right? Haven’t you?”
But Goldof softly replied, “I can’t let you…go beyond this point.”
“Goldof…” Adlet began.
“If you want to get past me…you have to…kill me first.”
At the sight of Goldof’s eyes, a shiver of fear ran down Adlet’s spine. Until now, he had not given up on the chance that Goldof was still on their side. But the moment Adlet saw that look, those beliefs evaporated. Goldof intended to kill him—and Fremy and Rolonia. All of them.
“Rolonia…you have to do that thing.”
“That thing?”
“Where you wail, die, die! That thing you do when you fight for real.”
“Addy…”
“We’re going to kill Goldof.”
Rolonia’s eyes widened, and then she nodded wordlessly. As she did, Goldof lowered his center of gravity and charged straight for Adlet.
Yelling with everything he had, Adlet thrust out the spear. Just moving it made his arms tired, and he gained a new and personal appreciation for Goldof’s unusual ability to whip the weapon around like a feather. Right before the spear would have connected, Goldof stopped. The spearhead was only a centimeter from his nose. Goldof immediately reached out to the haft. Adlet kicked him in the stomach to try to keep the weapon away from him.
“Urg!” Though Adlet had been the one to kick, he was the one who was repulsed. The shock ripped through his ankle, like he’d just slammed into a boulder.
Goldof grabbed at him, trying to catch him while he was vulnerable, but Adlet swept at his feet with the spear. The knight’s greaves took the strike.
“Diediedietraitoryougottadieorthesunwon’trisetomorrow!” Suddenly, Rolonia’s screeching resounded around them as her whip undulated like a snake. Goldof shifted, hunching over and covering his face with his hands. She lashed him over and over, with sharp, metallic clangs.
“!” Rolonia was shocked. Her whip, imbued with the power of the Saint of Spilled Blood, could wring blood from any enemy it touched. But she couldn’t draw a single drop from Goldof. He blocked every strike with his armor.
“Rolonia! Don’t stop! Rip off his armor!” Adlet yelled, thrusting the spear again. Goldof jumped, and the lance thudded impotently into the ground.
Goldof thwarted all their attacks. Rolonia’s whip landed hit after hit, but his armor blocked every one, and she failed to reach his blood. It wasn’t due to the quality his armor—it was his reflexes that were truly fearsome. Rolonia was aiming very precisely for the gaps in Goldof’s defenses, but he warded off everything with only slight adjustments.
“Ngh!” Still intercepting her strikes, Goldof reached out to seize his spear. If Adlet gave him the slightest opportunity, Goldof would snatch it back. But if Adlet stopped attacking, Goldof was likely to target Rolonia instead.
“Adlet,” Goldof said, blocking Rolonia’s whip. “Don’t kill…Her Highness.”
“Enough of your bullshit!” Adlet yelled, stabbing out the spear. He was going for Goldof’s armor. If he could just rip off one plate, then Rolonia could finish him off with her whip.
“Whywhywhywon’tyoudieyouwon’tdiedon’ttouchAddydon’ttouchFremydon’ttouchChamoDIEEE!” Rolonia screamed. Then the trajectory of her whip changed. It flailed in circles around Goldof, trying to ensnare him.
This is bad, thought Adlet. She’s getting anxious.
“Her Highness…” Goldof began. Right when the whip was about to catch him, he leaped high, his large frame soaring just like Hans’s as he slipped throu
gh the tiniest gap in the whip’s path. When he landed, he charged for Adlet. The red-haired Brave whirled Goldof’s spear around frantically, but he was a moment too late. What hit Goldof’s shoulder was not the spearpoint, but the haft. Goldof’s large hand grasped the weapon.
Adlet instantly judged that he couldn’t hope to best Goldof in a wrestling match, and so he released the spear. Then, too fast for the eye to see, he pulled out a pain needle from a pouch at his waist. If he could stab Goldof with it, it would cause intense pain; no matter how tough Goldof was, he would be out of commission for a few seconds.
Adlet tried to aim for Goldof’s hand with the needle right as it grabbed the spear—and that was when he noticed.
“!” Goldof wasn’t going for the spear. He was going for the needle. Goldof released the spear and seized Adlet’s hand. Squeezing with unnatural strength, he forced Adlet to drop the needle, then quickly snatched it out of the air between two fingers and threw it.
“Rolonia!” There was no way Adlet’s cry would be fast enough.
Rolonia screamed and pressed a hand to her cheek, crumpling to the ground.
I have to protect her, he thought, pulling out a smoke bomb.
But Goldof immediately snatched back his spear, and then, out of the blue, said something very unexpected. “Listen…the enemy…isn’t the princess… It’s Fremy.” Then he thrust the blunt end of his spear into Adlet’s stomach.
After making sure Adlet was down, he turned away from the pair and escaped.
“…Damn it.” Adlet couldn’t chase after him. He couldn’t even move. Even if it were an option, leaving Rolonia was not. Somehow, he struggled to his feet and went over to pull the needle from Rolonia’s cheek.
“I-I’m okay, Addy.” Rolonia engaged her power as Saint of Spilled Blood to bleed the wound on her cheek. It looked like that was enough to get all the poison out.
They chased Goldof for a while, but he was too fast. Adlet and Rolonia lagged farther and farther behind. Goldof was running along that same one-kilometer-radius arc. After about a quarter way around the circle, they lost sight of him.
Then, from far away, they heard gunshots. Fremy was fighting—and the sounds were coming from the very direction Goldof had run. “This is bad,” said Adlet. “At this rate, Fremy’ll be fighting two-on-one.”
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 3 Page 6
