Early DAR Vol. 5 Chapter 19 Part 2

Full title: Starting a New Life for the Discarded All-Rounder

Note: If you found any typos/mistakes, pls write them in the comment. Thanks.

Translator: Airis

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“Answer me properly! Die!!”

The crossed knives stayed locked as the female knight drew the sword at her waist with one hand and slashed at Roa. With both hands already straining to hold off her dagger, Roa had no way to block that strike.

Yet, he didn’t even try to evade it.

Just as the blade was about to slice across his neck, it stopped; suspended as if it had struck something invisible. Though nothing should have been there, a soft resistance met the sword and halted it. The knight pressed harder, but her blade refused to go any farther.

<Did you truly think I’d send my brat into battle without protection?>

<Exactly—>

<Dummy!>

His familiars’ cheerful voices rang out.

Unable to hear them, the female knight’s expression twisted in confusion and panic.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You command eight ferocious magic beasts! Power that great can only be contained or destroyed. Since the Nereus Kingdom is trying to keep you, I chose to destroy you for my country’s sake. Simple as that. Right, your high—ness?”

She had been there when Dietrich had declared to Eileen that he was the prince of Nereus. Seeing him getting along with Roa, she must have judged that to be a threat to her nation.

If someone with overwhelming power sided with another country, killing them before they could was the most rational course of action.

At her words, Dietrich clenched his teeth in frustration and averted his gaze. He had never intended to bring Roa under his country’s control, but anyone watching could have misunderstood.

Roa, however, never looked away from her. His eyes stayed fixed, quietly weighing her intent.

<Does she truly think a mere human kingdom could do as it pleases with my brat and us? Such arrogance.>

<Arrogance, that’s your specialty, uncle.>

<Yeah, sounds like the usual you!>

Their carefree voices echoed, but no one reacted.

Roa was clearly protected by magic, yet the two still stood with blades crossed; her sword held back by a barrier, her dagger still pressed against his. Even if she couldn’t harm him, no one dared relax.

Every member of Nostalgia stood ready, prepared to intervene the moment anything went wrong.

The five Gryphons still kept their heads low and bodies motionless; whether paralyzed by indecision or simply choosing to erase their presence to avoid getting involved, none could tell.

“Which country are you from? You’re not really a knight of the Perdu Kingdom, are you?”

At that, her expression clouded faintly.

Roa had suspected she was a spy from another nation.

Originally, he and his companions had heard rumors of combat drugs and theorized that Eileen must have obtained them from a foreign source. They had even speculated that an infiltrator from another country might have joined the Nemophila Knights.

Now, this same woman had stabbed Eileen with a knife and called her “useless.” It would be strange not to think she was that spy.

“Well? You think I’d answer that if you asked? Are you stupid?”

Her reply sealed his suspicions. She neither confirmed nor denied it, but a true knight of Perdu would have denied it instantly.

So she was the one who had given Eileen the combat drug, using her both as cover for intelligence work and as a pawn in her schemes. Perhaps all of Eileen’s reckless acts up to now had been guided by this woman’s manipulations.

Roa found himself feeling a flicker of pity for Eileen.

<If we think about it logically, the factions who’d profit from turmoil in Perdu would be either Adad or the Northern Allied Nations. But Adad’s people are too hot-headed for such elaborate tactics. So if we’re talking infiltration or sabotage, it’s likely one of the small states up north. That region’s crawling with sly, scheming bastards; plotting is practically their national pastime.>

“The Northern Allied Nations… huh.”

Hearing Uncle Gry’s analysis, Roa murmured under his breath.

“My, aren’t you sharper than I thought. But fishing for answers won’t get you anywhere.”

Unable to hear Uncle Gry’s voice, the female knight assumed Roa was probing for information and replied with a mocking grin.

“Look… you realize there’s nowhere left for you to run, right? I’m also protected by magic; you can’t kill me. So maybe… we could both lower our knives and pretend none of this happened? I promise I won’t harm your country or chase after you.”

Surrounded by his familiars and the members of Nostalgia, escape was already impossible for her.

Yet Roa still offered her a way out; a gesture that should have been worth considering.

For a brief instant, surprise flickered in her eyes. Then she glared at him.

“How naïve. Of course I can’t agree to that. You’re on friendly terms with Nereus; how could I ever trust you? My country won’t either. Besides, I never planned to survive this mission. Even if I escaped, I’d be executed for failure.”

“Then run from your country!”

“I have a family. I won’t drag their name through the mud.”

“…”

Hearing that, Roa bit his lip. He understood then that nothing he said could change her mind.

He had no words, no means to sway a person already resigned to death.

“Oh, silent now? You just wanted to talk to get information out of me, didn’t you?”

“…”

Roa didn’t answer. True, he had spoken to her hoping to learn something, but only to persuade her to stop, not to interrogate her. Now that he knew his words couldn’t reach her, there was no point.

“So that’s it? Then I’ll kill you!”

Flames erupted around the hand gripping her sword. She had conjured a Fireball inside her own clenched fist. Doing so meant searing her own flesh, if not outright burning her bones to ash.

And if the spell detonated before she released it, the blast at such close range would kill her as well.

It was an attack made in full readiness to die, her final means to break through the magic shielding Roa.

If he dodged, her knife would strike. If he held the knife, he couldn’t evade the spell. There was no way out.

The female knight swung her blazing fist down toward him.

“I’m sorry,” Roa whispered.

A faint chime rang out, “kin,” as her knife shattered like glass.

Fragments of silver-white mithril scattered across the ground.

“My weapon was destroyed…? But it’s mithril…?”

Someone’s stunned voice broke the silence.

With her dagger destroyed, the force she had been resisting against vanished, throwing her stance off balance. Her flaming punch veered wildly off course, and she stumbled forward.

Roa, too, let his posture collapse, deliberately this time.

His knife slipped in cleanly, gliding toward her exposed neck—

—and with a swift motion, he cut across her throat.

<Good grief, using that revolting magic again. If all you wanted was to destroy her weapon, you could have wrapped wind magic around your knife and cut it cleanly. Why smash it with some weird spell?>

Only the heavy thud of the collapsing female knight and Uncle Gry’s exasperated voice echoed through the space.

That was the instant the fight between Roa and the female knight was decided.

Time slipped on in silence.

Roa gazed wordlessly at the woman lying on the floor.

To him, she had been a stranger whose name he didn’t even know; just another face among the investigation team, with whom he’d had no real connection.

And yet now, Roa stared quietly at her lifeless face, as if to imprint it on his memory.

<Brat, why did you finish it yourself?>

Unable to endure the hush, Uncle Gry addressed Roa with a trace of anger in his tone.

<You knew that trifling spell posed no threat before my protective magic, did you not? Left to herself, she would have self-destructed and died anyway. And with those sleepyheads around, even if killing had to be done, there was no need for you to dirty your own hands.>

When Roa glanced toward Uncle Gry, the Gryphon had his eyes shut and refused to meet his gaze, doing a poor job of hiding his irritation.

“Yeah… but she was serious, so I thought I had to answer her seriously. And… burning to death looked like it would hurt.”

<That’s just self-satisfaction, brat.>

“You’re right…”

Roa bit his lip and looked down.

The moment the female knight invoked her magic, the vision that flashed through Roa’s mind was Uncle Gry’s battle with the Greater Lich.

Back then, Uncle Gry had dirtied his own hands to grant the Greater Lich the very end it most desired. He had met that longing head-on.

Just like Uncle Gry in that fight, Roa chose to face another’s resolve directly and stain his own hands.

But he had no wish to say so and burden Uncle Gry with guilt.

So he said nothing.

“Roa! Sorry, but check on this woman’s condition. I’ve no idea how the top-tier potion is supposed to take effect, so I can’t tell if she’s actually healed right!”

“Ah—yes! I’ll take a look!”

The one who called out to Roa, whose face had clouded over, was Kristoff.

He had been watching over Eileen after administering a Supreme Grade Magic Recovery Potion, the very one Roa had specified for wounds. As he’d admitted, he couldn’t judge whether it was working properly.

It was also an act of kindness. Seeing Roa being scolded by Uncle Gry, Kristoff gave him an escape route. If Roa had a task, Uncle Gry’s grumbling would be held at bay for a while, and Roa wouldn’t have to dwell on needless thoughts.

“You bastard! Don’t you dare complain about what Roa did with everything on the line!”

Dietrich leaped at the reclining Uncle Gry and, riding the momentum of his fall, drove a knee into him.

<Sleepyhead!? What are you doing, suddenly?>

<No complaining!>

<Don’t bully Roa!!>

Piling on, the twin magic wolves sprang at Uncle Gry as well. From the way their tails wagged like banners, they were playing at least half in jest. They dropped onto his belly, reveling in its springiness.

<Wait—brat’s defenses still have my mana tied up, and I can’t move worth a damn! Even the sleepyhead’s clumsy attack stings a little right now!>

With one human and two wolves mauling him, Uncle Gry squirmed to shake them off.

“What! This is our chance! Feel the weight of our long-nursed grudges!”

<Long—nursed—grudge!>

<Chaaan—ce!>

Dietrich and the twin magic wolves—Roo and Phi—hefted Uncle Gry up, flipped him, and pinned him on his back. Then they launched their “assault” on his unprotected belly.

…An assault consisting of rough petting that messed up his fur and relentless tickling.

<Hold it, sleepyhead! Your blood’s boiling after the fight and you’ve gone funny, haven’t you!? If you think you’ll get away with this—hey, don’t touch there! That tickles! Twins, don’t lick! And why are you licking too, sleepyhead!? Filthy! Stop it!!>

They were a writhing heap. The five Gryphons, who had been bowing their heads meekly, now stared round-eyed, aghast, as if witnessing something truly horrifying.

“By the way… is Roa going to be all right?”

Abruptly, Dietrich paused and muttered in a voice low enough only Uncle Gry could hear.

<All right in what sense?>

“Shh. Keep it down. I don’t want Roa hearing.”

<This voice reaches only you, sleepyhead. Be at ease.>

That reminded Dietrich: when they’d fought the Gryphon using dark magic, no one else had heard Uncle Gry’s voice either. Clever trick, he thought, but this wasn’t the time to marvel at it.

“He killed someone. Is he going to be okay?”

Unless one is an abnormal killer, taking a human life scars the heart. This world, where life is cheap and conflict constant, is no exception. Adventurers and soldiers simply learn to make their peace with it as they go.

For Roa—who always worries about others—that wound would be deeper still. Even if there had been no other way, he might not forgive himself.

Dietrich feared exactly that.

Roa looked a little down, but for now, he seemed stable. If Dietrich walked over and asked, “You all right?” Roa would answer, “I’m fine.”

But Roa rarely shows his darker feelings. He suppresses them so as not to worry those around him. Try to force it out, and stubborn Roa will never reveal his true heart.

Knowing that, Dietrich had no choice but to ask Uncle Gry, who had known Roa the longest.

Even then, he wasn’t sure it meant anything to ask a magic beast who didn’t bat an eye at killing. There was a good chance he’d get nothing useful back.

<Don’t fret. The brat isn’t that fragile. And it’s not his first time, technically. For a few days, he may not sleep unless he uses me as a pillow, but the wound will mend and he’ll return to himself. Honestly, he goes and burdens himself with needless strain, a worrisome boy. He lectured me not to make him worry, and before the words are even dry on his tongue, he turns around and breaks them…>

“What can I do…?”

<Nothing!>

Without a beat, Uncle Gry replied.

<The brat is stubborn to the core. He won’t heed anyone’s comforting prattle. Leave him be until he makes his own peace. Rest easy… Roo and Phi’s and my irresistible charm will soothe him properly. There’s no place for you, sleepyhead. You’d only get in the way. The sight of your kind alone unsettles the heart. Don’t go near the brat. Begone!>

“You little—!”

Wearing a rueful grin, Dietrich started roughhousing Uncle Gry again.

“Damn—poison!”

Roa’s shout cut him off.

All eyes swung to him.

He was bent over Eileen, checking her breathing, practically draped over her head where she lay on her back.

Perhaps because her clothes had been removed to inspect her wounds, Eileen’s upper body was bare. Catching sight of her bulging breasts, Dietrich quickly looked away.

<Dietrich, are you in heat?>

<Maaating seeeason!>

“I am not! Who taught you those words?”

Amused by his teenage-boy reaction, the twin magic wolves crowded his face and hooted at him. Roa and Kristoff, intent on treatment, showed no embarrassment at the exposed chest; they worked with sober focus.

Standing beside them, Bernhart wore his usual blank look, apparently uninterested.

“It was on the knife… I should have suspected it.”

Kristoff muttered as he worked, though no one present had thought to suspect it. True, she’d chosen to stab with a dagger despite having a sword; something that, in hindsight, could have signaled a hidden intent.

But that’s the sort of thought that only comes after you learn the blade was poisoned. Predicting it in time would’ve been difficult.

“Her breathing’s almost gone. Pulse is fading.”

“Can we save her?”

Perhaps feeling responsible as the one entrusted with treatment, Kristoff asked Roa with a grave face.

“…It’ll be hard. Right now she’s only alive because the potion’s effects still linger. It’s holding things together by constantly repairing what the poison is destroying. Once it wears off, she’ll die.”

“The antidote?”

“We can’t identify the toxin. There’s no time to analyze what’s on the blade.”

Healing potions and antidote potions were, strictly speaking, different things.

However, they could be substituted for toxins that the human body could break down. By using healing potions to repair the parts damaged by the poison, it was possible to ingest more poison than usual without any problems.

In short, detoxification was performed by the body’s own power, and the healing potion raised the amount of poison a person could survive ingesting.

The poison Eileen took was either in quantities far beyond lethal even for a Supreme Grade Magic Recovery Potion to keep up with, or it was a toxin humans couldn’t metabolize at all.

“Isn’t there a potion that works on any poison?”

“No! We already used a Supreme Grade Magic Recovery Potion. Her body can’t take another!”

Roa couldn’t help raising his voice.

He had downplayed the potion earlier since the other female knight had overheard, but this wasn’t the time to worry about that.

Potions were not usable without limit.

Magic beasts, whose bodies accepted mana easily, were exceptions. For other living things, there was always a limit. Overuse led to mana sickness. Once that hit, no potion worked.

A universal antidote was also a top-tier potion. If they gave it after a Supreme Grade Magic Recovery Potion, it would almost certainly induce mana sickness and nullify the effect.

“She’s a habitual user of combat drugs. The fact that the earlier potion worked at all was near miraculous.”

If they had administered it orally, it might not have worked. Because they sprinkled it on her body instead, the potency may have been damped just enough to produce a proper effect.

“…I see.”

Kristoff, who had been peppering Roa with questions, had nothing more to say.

Roa racked his brains. A life that might still be saved lay before him. Sweat beaded on his brow; he forgot even to wipe it away as he thought.

<Good grief. There’s no point in saving the likes of her.>

Uncle Gry muttered, exasperated.

“That’s true.”

Still sprawled atop the flipped Gryphon, Dietrich agreed.

He bore malice toward Eileen; she had caused his own grievous injuries and the twins’ abduction by the Gryphons. Until he knew the twins were safe, he had seriously considered killing her.

The members of Nostalgia seemed to feel much the same; none looked concerned for Eileen. They merely watched from a distance.

Kristoff’s agitation was tied solely to failing the task Roa had entrusted him with, not to worry for Eileen herself.

<That woman wasted the meal the brat worked so hard to make. That alone merits death!>

“That’s a bit extreme… but if Roa wants to save her, you’ll help him, won’t you?”

Dietrich flashed a toothy grin.

<He’ll manage without me. The brat isn’t so incompetent he’d fail to act when someone with that expression is standing right there.>

Uncle Gry flicked his eyes in a certain direction.

Dietrich followed his gaze. There stood the other female knight, Evelyn, one of Eileen’s two subordinates, frozen where she was with a stricken face.

Betrayed by a colleague, and now her revered commander was dying. Her limbs trembled with despair; her complexion had gone deathly pale.

Tears streamed unchecked from her eyes. If she hadn’t been bound and gagged, she would have been wailing and thrashing.

“Uncle Gry, tell me about the Gaokerena leaves!”

Roa’s voice rang out.

<See?>

Uncle Gry beamed at Dietrich, smug. The uncanny timing, as if Roa had overheard, put a jealous twist on Dietrich’s features. He plainly disliked that Uncle Gry understood Roa so well.

“Huh? About what?”

<Nothing. Not your concern. You meant the Gaokerena leaves, yes? Are you certain about this?>

“Certain about what?”

The Leaves of the Tree of Life (Gaokerena) were something Roa had received from Puffy the Winged Rabbit in the Rabbit Forest, at a place called the Sage’s Herb Garden.

They serve as an ingredient for longevity potions, and even when eaten raw, they extend life.

Roa had been given ten such leaves, along with a trial: to discover their true method of use—knowledge no one living now possessed—as the trial of becoming a sage. 

The title sage and ingredients for a supreme potion that one might never acquire in a lifetime. Exchanging that treasure for the life of Eileen—who had never been on good terms with him—was an awfully steep price.

<If I told you about those leaves, the sage’s trial would be forfeit—even if what I gave you had nothing to do with the answer itself.>

“Huh? Ah, a game of chance, right. Just because I got the Gaokerena leaves doesn’t mean any of that mattered for someone like me from the start. They’re precious—you only get them if you meet Puffy—so if I didn’t use them when they were needed, they’d be pointless.”

<…What? Brat, what did you just say?>

“So it was a game of chance I could try once I met Puffy and got the leaves, wasn’t it?”

<…>

Roa stated it outright, as if it were self-evident. It did not sound like something he had reasoned out; rather, it felt as though he had never once considered completing the trial and becoming a sage.

True, Puffy had used the words “game of chance,” but only to suggest Roa could take it lightly.

Yet Roa seemed to believe that anyone who met Puffy would receive Gaokerena leaves, and the “trial” came as a bonus afterwards.

<Brat… I didn’t think your misunderstanding ran that deep. Because your self-esteem was so low, you twisted the words to fit it…>

Uncle Gry stared at Roa like he was seeing the impossible. Puffy had chosen Roa for his ability and given him the sage’s trial. If anything, the Gaokerena leaves were merely a tool for that trial—an extra.

It was by no means something anyone could receive or attempt.

“That didn’t matter. Tell me, quickly! We didn’t know when her condition would suddenly turn.”

<Poor Puffy… no, serves him right. He has a habit of cooking up tricky schemes. He ought to get burned once by someone those schemes don’t work on. Wrecking his underhanded designs suits me fine, too. Hm.>

Muttering to himself, Uncle Gry closed his eyes and thought a moment. Dietrich and the twin magic wolves were still perched on his upturned belly.

Perhaps because he was thinking, they did not dare interrupt and watched quietly without moving.

<Brat, the Gaokerena leaves would save that woman. But there was a condition.>

“Something I could do?”

<No. A condition for the sleepyheads, and for that crybaby knight who stood there beside the troublesome ladyship.>

Uncle Gry turned his gaze to the female knight who stood at Eileen’s side, tears streaming as she watched in anxious silence.

<Sleepyhead, could you take those two back to your country and keep them under watch? They knew far too many things best left unknown. Killing them would be quickest, but if that were an option, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.>

At the word “kill,” Roa shot Uncle Gry a glare.

“I could… but you mean without anyone in my country finding out, right?”

<Naturally. If anything leaked and my brat’s freedom was curtailed, I would raze your nation, understood?>

His voice was quiet, and that only made his resolve all the clearer.

If even a slight disadvantage befell Roa, Uncle Gry would not hesitate to make an enemy of an entire country. Dietrich felt the same and had no intention of reporting any of this to the homeland.

<And you, Playboy—carry my words to that female knight.>

“Me again? Get the leader to do it!”

The one Uncle Gry had singled out—“Playboy,” Kristoff—let out a strangled protest.

He had been forced to speak for Uncle Gry once before and had found it mortifying. He had hoped never to repeat it.

<Sleepyhead’s words carry no weight; no one trusts what an idiot says. Roa is a child and won’t be taken seriously. A Playboy is best suited!>

“…That was… admittedly true…”

“Quit casually calling me an idiot!”

Dietrich barked in protest, but everyone ignored him.

<Before that, brat—assume that woman’s memories were already shattered, yes?>

“!?”

Roa started at Uncle Gry’s words, then nodded at once.

<As I thought. Healing potions repaired the body only; the experiences stored within were usually lost. When breathing faltered and the heart began to fail like this, the brain would suffer damage as well. Even if its functions were restored, the memories would be gone.>

A healing potion returned damaged parts of the body to a normal state. “Experience” was not among those parts.

Muscles and nerves did not regress to a blank newborn’s state because they balanced with other intact areas, but the brain was delicate and complex. That she might lose only her memories was a near miracle.

<Then, Playboy—the conditions we set for that female knight: emigrate to your country, no contact with prior acquaintances, and absolute silence about anything seen or heard here. They had already been shunned by their Count’s house and thrown away here. If the troublesome ladyship returned without her memories, both of them would likely be disposed of. They’d live happier if they fled abroad and were considered dead. Explain that upon them, they would have no choice but to agree.>

Hearing Uncle Gry’s terms, Kristoff accepted that such measures were necessary if Roa and the others were to live in peace from now on, and he began persuading the knight.

Along with Uncle Gry’s message, he added that Dietrich, a royalty of Nereus, had been endangered.

Even if it was a foreign realm, harming royalty meant a capital crime. Evelyn, grateful that Eileen might be saved, nodded and accepted the conditions without resistance.

“And then, Uncle Gry…?”

<Crush the leaf and have her drink the juice. That alone should suffice. Gaokerena leaves expunged the baneful things within the body and prolonged life. In other words, they possessed the ultimate anti-toxin aspect. Supposedly, a poison that causes aging accumulates in the human body with the years, does it not? Well, that was not the leaf’s only property! To save that woman, you would have to use every leaf you carried, and the brat would lose his chance to research them for life! Puffy’s vile ambition would be crushed!>

Whether from excitement or glee, Uncle Gry’s body trembled mightily. Dietrich and the twin magic wolves were bounced high atop his belly.

<Once we returned to town, the brat would be an official adventurer! The twins would earn their names! The chicks would be under my command again! Puffy’s worrisome scheme was foiled! I got to romp to my heart’s content, the sleepyheads suffered just enough not to die, the brat gained a touch of real combat, and we conducted assorted human trials with various potions! On top of that, we eliminated some country’s spy, settled the nuisance rampaging ladyship who spawned trouble, recovered the hostages without letting them die, and the so-called “investigation team” had no fatalities! Behold! A perfect, happy ending! Fuhahaha!>

At the pealing laughter, everyone but Uncle Gry wore a complicated look.

The five Gryphons even shook their heads in despair. For them, being called Uncle Gry’s subordinates might have sounded like a death sentence.

The buildings were shattered, corpses lay strewn, and many were injured; calling this a happy ending seemed a stretch.

Because no one had yet explained matters, even Nostalgia had not realized Uncle Gry and the twins had deceived them into a needless fight. Once they learned the truth, they would surely be furious.

It was hardly a result anyone could accept with a smile.

“Uncle Gry, you weren’t reflecting on any of it, were you? Of course you weren’t. You’re repairing this building yourself, since you broke it. Naturally. And you’re treating every last Gryphon, then helping replenish the materials we use. Also, no meals for a week.”

<What!? Why!? >

No matter how long he scolded, Roa’s anger at being tricked had not fully cooled.

Even so, not everything had been bad. Roa let out a long sigh and smiled.

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