DAR Vol. 5 Chapter 20 Part 1

Chapter 20 – At Journey’s End

Deep within the forest flanking the road to the Citadel Dungeon.

In the Sage’s Herb Garden, within the domain of Tree of Life, Gaokerena, a single black rabbit slept. He was Puffy: the caretaker here and the king of the Winged Rabbits.

Inside a vast tree hollow, he slept with his long ears draped over himself like a blanket.

Suddenly, a smile touched Puffy’s lips.

<…So that’s how it turned out after all.>

He murmured and slowly opened his eyes.

Puffy had watched everything through Uncle Gry’s sight. By way of Roa, he had linked into a Mana Conduit and shared vision through that indirect channel.

It was a means of sharing information when one’s partner in a familiar contract was far away. Normally, information would be obtained from the vision of the person with whom he had a contract with, but this time Puffy had chosen Uncle Gry, who seemed most likely to remain a detached observer.

Of course, neither Roa nor Uncle Gry knew he had borrowed their sight to peep.

In such fine-grained techniques, Puffy far outstripped Uncle Gry. Fussy by temperament yet rough in execution, Uncle Gry would go his whole life without noticing he was being spied on.

<Not only was he uninterested in becoming a sage, he had twisted the idea into something else. He really was a most unusual fellow.>

Though Roa had used up every Gaokerena leaf and shut the path to becoming a sage, Puffy’s expression looked bright; as if he had wanted things to end this way.

<Well, I could at least praise him for spending those precious leaves on others. I suppose I’ll watch him for a while and cobble together another suitable “trial” when the time comes.>

With that ominous aside, Puffy gave a small squeak. At once, the other rabbits began to gather, and in moments he was surrounded.

They set to grooming him, and the unhurried dignity of the scene suited a king of rabbits.

<Uncle Gry and you twins, raise Roa properly, all right? Once he’s grown, I’ll swoop in from the side and whisk him away.>

Puffy smiled sweetly.

His soliloquy was lost beneath the whisper of leaves and reached no one.

𑁋

A certain country, a certain royal castle, a certain room.

“So, in the end, that girl failed and died?”

On a terrace that looked out over a mountain range still faintly capped with snow, a radiant young man sat alone at a pure-white table, savoring his tea. Beside him, a burly, soldierly man knelt on one knee with his head slightly bowed, waiting at attention.

A fixed smile clung to the young man’s lips.

“She departed for the Citadel Dungeon with Count Amadan’s daughter and then vanished. Her survival appears unlikely.”

“Hm. But the boy with the Gryphon made it back, right? So those girls were simply abandoned?”

He hooked his index finger through the handle of the now-empty teacup and spun it idly. A few lingering droplets flicked onto the soldier’s face, but the man did not so much as twitch. He remained stone-faced.

“He apparently left later than the adventurer group and acted completely independently.”

“I see. Then she chased after the boy on her own and died somewhere unknown, so he’s unrelated. What a waste. She finally lucked into accompanying him to the Citadel Dungeon, yet she managed neither to bring him in nor to remove him. I’d thought she was competent—she kept entertaining that amusing young lady and even fed us information from inside the royal castle—but perhaps not. Dosing people to sour relations between the adventurers and the nobles didn’t go all that well either. Well, she had been useful until now; I suppose we should pray for her repose.”

Saying so, he took a cookie from the table and bit into it. It was obvious he felt no inclination to pray.

“It seems the Perdu Kingdom has shifted to a policy of protecting the boy in question. Apparently there was some arm-twisting by the Holy Artisan Bruno, but most of our plants in their castle are low-level, and we have not verified the facts.”

“Bruno!? Why is that old man involved? I hate him.”

The youth bared his teeth and shouted with genuine disgust.

“The Holy Artisan referred to the boy as his ‘disciple.’”

“Huh? Disciple? Truly?”

“We previously received a report that the boy also joined the Creators’ Guild, so it may be true. However, rumor within the Adventurers’ Guild holds that he is more likely an alchemist, and we cannot be certain. In any case, that city’s Adventurers’ Guild is in turmoil from the unexplained building collapse and a sudden change of Guildmaster. Our infiltrators have been consumed with the response and have gathered little intelligence.”

“Right, the mysterious collapse and the abrupt appointment of a new Guildmaster. That makes no sense either. Someone you’d never expect to become Guildmaster was elevated, wasn’t it? There’s probably something behind it, but the Adventurers’ Guild headquarters is always a mystery. We still don’t know where HQ even is or who actually belongs to it. And this supposed ‘Fixer’—who knows.”

“My apologies.”

The soldierly man lowered his head deeply, his face still unmoved.

“It’s fine. No nation’s intelligence service has a handle on that. Hmmm. The Adventurers’ Guild business likely involves that Bruno geezer too—he has pull with guilds all over. He tends to know things we don’t. If he calls the boy his ‘disciple’ and cherishes him, he’d think nothing of meddling in appointments to protect him. He’s outrageous enough to smash a building or two as a warning. If he broke it to threaten someone, I could believe it.”

“I cannot fathom the Holy Artisan Bruno’s intentions. Again, my apologies.”

The man bowed once more.

“So Bruno’s involved… and that terrifying Queen of Nereus seems to have a hand in it as well. What is that boy? The more we dig, the stranger he becomes. Perhaps he didn’t acquire the Gryphon through mere luck. I’m starting to think if we move carelessly, we will be the ones crushed. Scary.”

Jesting, the young man raised both hands to the sky in a theatrical gesture of surrender.

“Well then, just observe for a while. Tell me if anything interesting turns up. The onlookers we’ve been watching should start moving soon. If we’re lucky, their actions will make our aims easier to advance. Maybe Adad will stir. It’s easier to run operations when the not-quite-bright crowd is the one acting. Ah, right—send a replacement for the one who died. We probably can’t slip anyone into as good a spot as that amusing young lady’s inner circle anymore, so anything will do. Make it perfunctory.”

“Yes.”

“Still, I would’ve liked to have the boy and the Gryphon after all.”

With practiced nonchalance, the young man pitched the teacup out over the terrace. It dissolved into the sky; only a distant shatter echoed from far away.

𑁋

Under a cloudless, piercing-blue sky, a single wagon rumbled along a highway near the Nereus Kingdom’s border.

It was a plain and common, hoodless freight cart with a man and woman on the driver’s bench and two women seated on the cargo bed.

“We’ll be arriving soon at the town where you’re going to live.”

Cornelia called back from the box seat to the pair in the rear. Beside her, Bernhart sat in silence, guiding the reins.

“Yes…”

The reply came from Evelyn, formerly a knight of the Nemophila Knights.

She was not in a knight’s armor but in modest clothing; still, perhaps out of lingering pride, she wore men’s attire and kept a sword at her hip.

“Sister Eve…”

Watching her was Eileen, the former captain of the Nemophila Knights. She now dressed like a simple town girl.

Eileen edged close to Evelyn with visible unease, and Evelyn gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Inside the Citadel Dungeon, the two of them had cast aside their titles and names. Here and now, they were Eve, a former knight turned commoner, and her younger sister, Lily.

Their family—so the story went—had perished in an incident, and Cornelia, whom they had met by chance, had taken them under her protection. During the turmoil in which they lost their family, the younger sister Lily suffered a severe shock and lost her memory, such was the account.

In truth, to save Eileen’s life, they had given up their status and names and were going to seek asylum in a domain governed by Cornelia’s kin.

That Eileen had lost her memory, however, was no lie.

Her brain had been damaged by poison, and though restored by a healing potion, much of her memory had been lost.

When memories were lost, it was said they tended to go in the order of short-term memories, long-term memories, episodic memories, semantic memories such as the meanings of words, and procedural memories gained through training.

Fortunately, though the poison had inflicted grave injury, she had retained both language and procedural memory; ordinary life should pose no obstacle.

Thus Evelyn chose to make Eileen her own sister and live with her.

“You’ll need to work, too, so start thinking about it now. If it’s border security, I can make it happen through my connections.”

If they had once been a knight and a knight-captain, they were more than fit to serve as soldiers. With that in mind, Cornelia spoke, but only for Eileen to cling tighter to Evelyn, as if frightened.

“Border security sounds… scary.”

From her trembling lips came words no one would have expected of a former knight-captain.

With her memories gone, she had become an ordinary woman. Not only was there no trace of a captain, even the hauteur of a noble’s daughter had vanished.

That was likely her true nature.

Her conduct as a noble lady and as a knight-captain had been a shell to protect herself. Freed from the need to pretend, she bared her vulnerability and returned to who she truly was.

“…Lily.”

Evelyn drew the fearful Eileen into a soft embrace. Tenderly, like a real elder sister shielding a frail younger one.

“Ah—no, I wasn’t saying you have to become border guards! I only meant it as one option! Let me think… I could probably arrange work teaching the basics to commoner children. And if that’s too much, you can take it easy for a while and then find something you really like.”

Worried she had blundered, Cornelia hurried to smooth things over.

She had meant to be considerate by offering soldier work to two former knights; she had not imagined they would be so afraid.

“It’s all right. I’ll protect you, Lily.”

“Sister…”

Watching them cling to each other, Cornelia sighed lightly and turned back to face forward.

Still holding one another, Evelyn and Eileen savored each other’s warmth.

Evelyn felt that this moment was happiness.

How heavy had the burden been on those slender shoulders she held?

As a noble daughter—and as a knight-captain—that weight must have pressed down on her without mercy.

Certainly, losing her memories was a misfortune for Eileen. Yet more than that, being freed from her burdens and allowed to live as a normal woman had to be a blessing.

The Eileen that Evelyn had known always strove for her house’s advantage as a lady, and then fought desperately to protect the position she had gained as captain.

In doing so she had lived in constant pain, even resorting to strange drugs to choke down the urge to flee.

She had already reached her limit. She had sustained herself by casting her identity over the “Princess Knight Eileen” from tales.

Evelyn had always wanted to support her, but could not help beyond a certain point.

The difference in status rose like a wall, ever standing between them.

Now that they had become Eve and Lily—mere commoners—there was no such divide.

If anything, as an elder sister protecting a fragile sibling, she could hold her freely, heedless of prying eyes.

Feeling the warmth of Eileen’s skin, Evelyn knew she was happy.

She resolved to keep supporting Eileen so that she could live happily.

For that, casting aside her rank as a knight was no sacrifice at all.

Eileen, too, felt happy in the present.

She was genuinely glad that Evelyn was there to hold her gently.

She might have lost her memories, but with her sister beside her, she could be strong even in an unfamiliar place. The unknown was frightening, but with her sister, she could endure.

We can be happy.

Sustained by each other’s warmth, Evelyn and Eileen believed it with all their hearts.

𑁋

Around midday on a day roughly two weeks after the commotion in the Citadel Dungeon, Roa and the others returned to the city of Amadan.

“It felt like it’s been a really long time, even though we were gone just a little over ten days,” Dietrich said, strolling through the streets in high spirits.

Even while talking, his eyes roved over the food stalls lining the road; no doubt already plotting dinner.

On the way back to the city, Roa had cooked their meals, and for a journey, the fare had been downright lavish, but that was a separate matter entirely.

“That’s true. I felt relieved,” Roa said.

“We weren’t born here either, but it still felt like coming home,” Kristoff agreed, glancing toward the townsfolk who kept their distance because Uncle Gry was with them.

After spending a night in the Citadel Dungeon, they departed around noon the next day. Using Uncle Gry’s magic, they flew and quickly linked up with the investigation team that had gone on ahead, then returned to this city together.

They had parted from the investigation team at the city gates, but the completion certificate for the commission was already in hand.

All that remained was to submit it to the Adventurers’ Guild, and this trip would be done.

The Citadel Dungeon was a trove of materials, and Roa’s group would have preferred to spend several days exploring and gathering, but they could not. The soldier who had been held as hostage was the problem.

The soldier had recovered and woken up once; deciding it was better he knew nothing, Uncle Gry had immediately put him back to sleep with magic.

Even so, they could not keep him asleep indefinitely, at most a day. They could hardly leave him without food or a way to relieve himself.

Reluctantly, they chose to leave the Citadel Dungeon and planned to return another time.

<…Hm. Was that the magic I set up? It felt much weaker and skewed in a different direction. Why did it trigger? Did it link to a leyline naturally? Did that cause the alteration?>

“What is it, Uncle Gry?”

<Ah, no—well, I was just thinking it would have been nice to let the chicks experience the city as well.>

“I already said that was impossible.”

The five Gryphons had stayed behind in the Citadel Dungeon to resume their previous lives.

Bringing them back would obviously cause a national uproar, so the decision was inevitable.

Uncle Gry had wanted to bring them as subordinates to help guard Roa, but the idea was rejected outright. Outwardly, everything in the Citadel Dungeon would remain “as before,” and they planned to report no change to the Adventurers’ Guild.

“Once things settle down, we could swap you and them out one at a time and show each one around town. Ordinary people can’t tell them apart anyway.”

<Despite the vast difference in dignity, beauty, cuteness, and cunning, humans cannot distinguish them. Fools. It’s convenient, though.>

The Gryphons had been fully healed by Roa’s potions. The buildings had been restored as well.

As punishment, Uncle Gry alone had worked without sleep or rest on the repairs, and because he had lashed out earlier in anger and done as he pleased, the structure had ended up sturdier than before.

In addition to the exterior walls—which had always been impossible to break—the floors and interior walls would not yield easily without powerful magic. The interior had been altered greatly, too, into a surprisingly livable, thoughtfully designed space.

“Let’s visit again. We’ve finally become friendly with the Gryphons, and I want to gather materials.”

<Plaaay!>

<The friends we could play with at full power and not break!>

Thinking of the Gryphons, the twin magic wolves, Roo and Phi, scampered about in delight.

The Gryphons, having seen Roa heal their wounds with potions—and having witnessed Uncle Gry being punished—had come to follow Roa completely.

At first, they had probably calculated that becoming Roa’s familiars would be better than being pressed into Uncle Gry’s command, whom they disliked. But more than that, they had been moved by Roa’s kindness.

As he tended their injuries and fed them, they grew to respect him; by the time they left the Citadel Dungeon, their respect had become outright reverence.

Roa had only treated them as he did Uncle Gry and the twins, but it had been very well received.

“Do you think Cornelia and Bernhart were all right?”

“They’re just dropping those two off with a contact in our country’s frontier, then coming right back,” Kristoff said, tugging Dietrich back by the shirt as he drifted toward a stall.

At the moment, the only members of Nostalgia present were Dietrich and Kristoff.

Cornelia and Bernhart had split off when they left the Citadel Dungeon and headed for the Nereus Kingdom.

They were entrusting Eileen and Evelyn to a domain governed by Cornelia’s kin.

Kristoff had deliberately called it “a contact in the frontier” to keep their relationships unchanged.

Roa had certainly heard, when the female knight attacked him with a dagger, that Dietrich was royalty. Yet he had behaved as if he had heard nothing, treating Dietrich the same as always.

Sensing there were circumstances, he had feigned ignorance. Perhaps he had noticed long ago and simply pretended otherwise.

From the way he sometimes spoke with Uncle Gry, that seemed likely.

Nostalgia decided to go along with Roa’s discretion, to treat the group not as a troublesome incognito royal with a retinue of knights and mages, but as the usual adventurer party, Nostalgia.

Thus, they deliberately steered away from any talk that might hint at royalty or nobility.

“…Huh? We should be seeing the Adventurers’ Guild by now.”

Roa suddenly spoke in puzzlement.

They had reached the point where the Guild’s building should have come into view. Yet there was nothing that looked like it.

It was a conspicuous structure, hard to miss.

<…>

“…”

“…”

Uncle Gry checked the results of his handiwork and smirked.

Dietrich shot him a glare; Kristoff brought a hand to his forehead.

All three were silent, but their reactions could not have been more different.

Dietrich and Kristoff had heard from Cornelia about the Guild building’s collapse, and they had a good idea who was responsible.

The only one in the dark here was Roa.

“Wait—did the building collapse?”

When they reached the Adventurers’ Guild, Roa saw a fallen ruin and workers busily clearing the debris.

“Ah—now that you mention it, I think I heard they were rebuilding before we left. No big deal. Hey, looks like the temporary reception is over there under that tent.”

Dietrich slipped an arm around the dazed Roa’s shoulders and guided him forward.

Mid-stride, he glanced back at Uncle Gry, a scheming smile tugging at his lips.

𑁋