Rokka no Yuusha - Volume 1 - Chapter Pr

Prologue 
The Forest of Peril 

The legends speak of a time when evil will awaken from the depths of darkness to transform the land into hell. They say that the Spirit of Fate will select six Braves and bestow upon them the power to face this great danger. 
The story that follows is about those Braves, destined to be the saviors of the world. But the most important point concerning their story is this: There are most definitely six Braves chosen to save the world. Not five, not seven. Only six. 
A boy ran through a forest enshrouded in deep fog. He was a young swordsman, his long red hair fluttering behind him. He wore light leather armor over hempen clothes, with an iron-plated headband tied about his forehead. In his right hand, he grasped a rather small but sturdily made sword. Most noticeable, though, were the four wide belts wrapped around his waist. Affixed to those belts were a few dozen small pouches. 
The boy’s breath was ragged. He was wounded. His coarse clothes were torn in a number of places, exposing sharp gashes in his skin. His leather armor was charred, and both arms were covered in burns. Blood poured from his wounds, dyeing his shoes bright red. Wounds of this degree would have long since brought a normal man to his knees. 
The boy’s name was Adlet Mayer. He was turning eighteen. As he ran, he looked nervously over his shoulder. The fog and dense leaves obstructed the light, making the forest dark. He could just faintly pick out a figure through the murky fog. He was being followed. His pursuer pressed closer, only about thirty meters behind. This is bad , he thought, and it was that moment when a voice echoed through the forest. 
“There you are!” The cry came from a girl. Her voice was high and soft, like the trill of a baby bird. 
“Ngh! ” Just as Adlet heard her, a blade sprouted at his feet. It was silver, about three meters in length, springing up from empty ground, its point aimed precisely at Adlet’s heart. He swung his sword with a backhand stroke. The quartz decoration fitted into the hilt of his weapon just barely protected him from being skewered. The impact threw him backward, and the blade that had assailed him shattered into fragments. As he rolled away, he plunged his sword into the ground. Then, lifting his body with the strength of his arms, he leaped. Three more blades immediately rose from the ground. Adlet just barely skimmed over their tips. 
“Did I get him?” asked his pursuer. 
Adlet landed on the ground and replied. “Not even close. When you’re trying to finish someone off, you’ve got to be quieter about it,” he said, setting off running once more. He ran until his tormentor disappeared into the fog and he couldn’t see her anymore. “Try harder! You’re not gonna catch the strongest man in the world like that!” 
“You just won’t give up!” The girl persisted in her pursuit. 
Adlet cradled his right arm as he ran. To be honest, he hadn’t fully dodged that last attack. Blood flowed from a gash in his upper arm. That bragging had been the most he could manage, a bluff for the sake of hiding his injury. 
As Adlet fled, he looked at the back of his right hand. A strange crest was tattooed upon it. Roughly the size of a baby’s palm, the design was a filigree circle with a six-petaled flower in the center. The crest glowed faintly, a pale shade of crimson. Gazing at it, Adlet muttered, “I’m not gonna get killed. A Brave of the Six Flowers isn’t gonna die in a place like this.” 
The crest on Adlet’s right hand was commonly referred to as the Crest of the Six Flowers. It was proof that he was one of the chosen Braves fated to save the world. 
The legends speak of a fearsome creature that slumbers at the westernmost tip of the continent. It is said to have a repulsive shape and power far beyond human comprehension. Its only purpose is to kill. When this creature awakens, it—in the company of tens of thousands of servants known as fiends—will overrun the world, transforming it into hell. This creature has no name. It is referred to only as the Evil God. 
The legends speak of a time when the Evil God ends its enduring dormancy and rises once again. It is then that the Spirit of Fate will choose six Braves. They say that a crest in the shape of a flower appears on the bodies of those so chosen. These six are the only ones capable of defeating the greatest threat humanity has ever known. 
And now, Adlet Mayer has been selected as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers. And so, he sets forth on a journey to defeat the Evil God. He heads for the land where the dangerous creature once slept to find the other Braves, those similarly marked by fate. 
But… 
“You still won’t give up?” 

The voice of his pursuer drew nearer on his heels. Blades continued to vex him from beneath. Adlet ran desperately to evade both. Blood loss clouded his eyes. His fingertips were frozen, and his feet stumbled. But he couldn’t stop. If she caught him, she would kill him. 
What am I doing in a place like this? Adlet wondered. What he should have been doing right about then was attacking the lair of the Evil God. He should have been fighting the fiends that blocked his path, together with the others chosen by fate. But instead, this girl was chasing him down, and he was going to die. 
“I’ll get you this time!” The girl fired off attacks in Adlet’s direction in rapid succession. Cold steel skimmed by his hair, slicing his armor. 
“Ngh! ” He threw himself to the ground to avoid the blade careening at his chest and then stood again immediately, breaking into a sprint. The next blade came from directly underneath. He dodged it with a leaping roll to the side. Her aim wasn’t precise, but her attacks were fierce. Out of every few dozen, one or two would come right at him. With each attack he dodged, little by little, the margin of error grew smaller. 
“!” Two blades came at him from both sides. One of them gouged into his torso. It sliced through his ribs, the impact sending him tumbling to the earth. Blood spurted from his throat and mouth. Adlet pressed his injured side, curling up. He couldn’t even stand anymore. 
His pursuer was already so close that Adlet could see her clearly. “I’ve finally caught you,” she said. The shape of a girl emerged from the shade and fog that hung beneath the trees. Her appearance was dazzling. She was clad in white armor, and the hilt of the slender sword she held was inlaid with jewels. On her head, she wore a helmet designed to resemble rabbit ears. Bright flaxen hair, large red eyes, full lips, beautiful, distinctive features—just seeing her standing there, he could sense her nobility and dignity. Everything about her was elegant. 
Adlet called her name. “Nashetania.” Adlet knew—he knew that on her chest she bore a Crest of the Six Flowers, just like the one on Adlet’s right hand. He knew that she was also one of the six Braves chosen to defeat the Evil God. And now, he was about to be killed by one of his own, a comrade he was supposed to be fighting alongside. 
“Listen, Nashetania.” 
“To what?” 
“I’m your ally.” 
Nashetania giggled and then pointed her slim sword at Adlet. Its blade extended to pierce Adlet’s ear. “It’s far too late for that sort of nonsense.” Nashetania was smiling, but she regarded him as if he were vermin. “You’re a fool. If you had only surrendered and confessed, you could have had an easier death.” 
“I’m not gonna confess to anything. I haven’t done a single thing wrong.” 
“It’s no use. You won’t deceive me again.” Nashetania quietly sighed. “You hatched a plan to trick us. You fooled us all and even hurt us. It’s quite clear that you are the impostor.” 
“I’m not lying. You’re the one getting tricked. The enemy is using you to try to kill me.” But she wasn’t listening. “I haven’t killed any of our allies. I’m not scheming to trap everyone, either.” 
“I’ve told you, you shan’t fool me anymore.” 
“I’m not lying to you! Listen to me, Nashetania! I’m not the seventh!” 
The tip of Nashetania’s blade hovered over Adlet’s heart. “No. You are the seventh.” 
The legends speak of a time when the Evil God will rouse from its deep sleep. It is then that the Spirit of Fate will choose six Braves. On the bodies of these six Braves will appear a crest in the shape of a flower. Only the Braves of the Six Flowers are capable of defeating the Evil God and protecting the world. 
But… 
When the time came, there appeared seven warriors bearing the Crest of the Six Flowers. All seven warriors bore crests that were genuine. Why was there one extra? Adlet knew why. One among those seven was the enemy—plotting the downfall of the true six, infiltrating their number in order to kill them. But among the seven Braves who had come forth, who among them was the enemy? Adlet still didn’t know the answer.