DAR Vol. 6 Chapter 22 Part 5

As the sun went down, two men could be seen talking in the vast bathhouse of the marquis family’s main residence.

“Huh? You attacked Roa because you misunderstood something? And then you got taken out instead!?”

“…Yeah.”

Facing the Sword Saint as he delivered the report with a faintly embarrassed air, Dietrich roared with laughter.

The two men were the Sword Saint and Dietrich. Since this was the bath, they were naturally both naked, soaking in the hot water.

The royal capital of the Kingdom of Nereus had hot springs. There was even a legend that the city began when pirates discovered the springs and used them as a place to rest and recover.

The region where the Kingdom of Nereus now stood had apparently once been a place where volcanic eruptions caused real damage. Since the kingdom’s founding there were no records of any serious disaster, but proof that scalding magma still simmered beneath the ground remained: people said it was easier to strike a hot spring than to dig a well, and the water supply was abundant.

Using those springs, many noble estates maintained large bathing facilities. The hot springs were also widely used by commoners, to the point that public bathhouses existed for them as well.

“You idiot. That’s what happens when an old man pushes himself! Serves you right!”

Dietrich was the Sword Saint’s pupil, yet his tone was nothing like someone addressing a revered mentor. It was familiar, casual, almost like an equal trading insult with a friend.

At first, theirs had been a strict master-and-disciple relationship, but over the long years it had shifted into what it was now. The fact that Dietrich, despite learning from him, had not inherited the Sword Saint’s sword style was probably part of what brought them to this point.

If he had been a proper disciple, he could never have been this casual.

After the incident on the beach, the Sword Saint parted ways with Roa’s group and returned to the estate alone.

The effects of Roa’s magic recovery potion were perfect. The wounds the twins had inflicted healed cleanly and quickly. Of course, the ice that had locked up his leg was removed as well.

Still, because he had collapsed onto the sand, the Sword Saint ended up coated in grit. And after being attacked by the twin magic wolves, his clothes were in tatters. Even Roa couldn’t do anything about that.

So he decided to bathe and get himself presentable, then redo the introductions with Roa’s group. No matter what, he couldn’t spend time with guests while caked in sand.

When the Sword Saint returned to the estate, the servants who greeted him erupted into an uproar.

He had been traveling abroad, and it had been a long time since he last came home.

He had already handed the Marquis title over to his son and lived in retirement, but his standing as the Sword Saint kept him busy and sent him all over the place. Those trips were, as a rule, done alone.

Back when he had been the head of the house, responsibility required him to travel with guards and attendants. In truth, he loved freedom. Since he himself was the Sword Saint, guards were pointless, and servants would only become baggage, so he never wanted to bring them along.

That was why there was no way it wouldn’t become a commotion when he returned in such a battered state.

The frantic servants reported it to Emilia, who had just come home, and Dietrich, who happened to be there, heard the report and rushed over as well.

After letting them confirm he wasn’t injured and settling them down, the Sword Saint said he wanted to wash away the grime of travel, along with the sand that had worked its way into his hair and even his ear canals, and headed for the bath.

Ordinarily, a noble’s bath came with attendants to help with things like scrubbing their back, but the Sword Saint hated that sort of hovering. He wanted to relax in peace.

Even so, the worried servants didn’t want to leave him alone, and Dietrich finally gave in to their pleading looks and ended up bathing with him.

With the Sword Saint and Dietrich sitting naked side by side, they almost looked like father and son. Their hair color, eye color, and facial features were completely different, but the air they carried was the same.

After they washed and sank into the tub, the Sword Saint explained what had happened on the beach. Dietrich burst into laughter, then tossed out the sermon-like line from the beginning.

“…What do you suppose it was that knocked my sword aside…?”

Watching Dietrich laugh, the Sword Saint muttered, still unable to accept it.

His blade had been blocked before, but never in a way that injured him from the recoil. To hurt your arm just because someone defended was the mark of a third-rate swordsman.

A man called the Sword Saint shouldn’t be committing that kind of disgrace.

Dietrich thought it over.

From the situation as the Sword Saint described it, Roa must have had some kind of defensive magic on him. The real question was who had cast it.

“…Probably a defensive spell…”

With the image of that irritating, smug-looking Gryphon in his mind, Dietrich gave the safest answer he could. If it was defense magic powerful enough to do that, the one who cast it could only be Uncle Gry.

“Defensive magic powerful enough to crack my wrist bone, hm. I’ve punched rock and never once broken my wrist, you know?”

The Sword Saint grumbled that it had clearly been repelled with force far greater than the power of his slash.

“And those magic wolf pups…they were using magic. They aren’t just ordinary magic wolves. They might be the young of some higher-grade magic wolf.”

“Roo and Phi.”

Dietrich corrected him at once.

“That’s the names of the twin magic wolves. You have to call them by name, or they’ll get mad. The red one is Roo, and the blue one is Phi, so don’t mix them up.”

Dietrich had been thoroughly trained by the twins. Ever since Roa named them, calling them by name was basic. Fail to do it and you got kicked, plus no meal.

“…Is that mark on your leg their doing?”

The Sword Saint pointed at the footprint-shaped scars visible through the bathwater on Dietrich’s thigh.

They were burn marks Roo and Phi had left, two neat prints on each side. Even months later, they still stood out vividly.

“Yeah.”

For some reason, Dietrich answered with a hint of pride. To him, those footprint scars were proof of his connection to the twins, something he could even boast about.

Still puzzled by Dietrich’s attitude, the Sword Saint frowned and sank into thought.

“To wound you means those magic wolves truly are strong. The way they took me down was clean, too. They’ve trained hard. That child seems like a remarkably capable tamer.”

Dietrich wanted to correct him that Roa hadn’t trained the twins, but it sounded like it would turn into a hassle, so he only nodded vaguely.

More than anything, “a Gryphon is training magic wolves” was not a story anyone would believe. And if he added that they themselves were being coached by that same Gryphon, it wouldn’t just sound far-fetched, it would make him seem insane.

Keeping quiet was the wisest course.

Besides, Roa wasn’t a tamer. Even if he corrected that, he doubted he’d be believed, but Roa was probably the only person in the world who had been officially recognized as an adventurer while holding the title of ‘all-rounder.’

At the Adventurers’ Guild, ‘all-rounder’ referred to apprentice adventurers without a specialty, the odd-job gofer you could make do “any kind of work.” But in Roa’s case, it was ‘all-rounder’ in the sense of “someone who can handle any specialty.” He was still inexperienced now, yet Dietrich was convinced that was what he would become.

“That child has a Gryphon as a familiar. Is that true?”

“It is. And Roa isn’t a child. He’s an adult. Well, he’s underdeveloped, but still.”

Dietrich himself forgot it often, but Roa was of age. Whatever he looked like, his years made him a full-grown man, and for the sake of Roa’s honor, Dietrich had to correct that.

“That Gryphon…is it the real thing?”

“The real thing? Are there fake Gryphons out there?”

At the word fake, Dietrich found himself thinking Uncle Gry really did feel like some kind of counterfeit.

A Gryphon that human didn’t feel like a Gryphon at all. More than that, he didn’t even feel like a magic beast. Calling him fake almost made more sense.

“No, I’ve never heard of a fake. But a Gryphon isn’t some easy magic beast you can simply make into a familiar. It’s a vicious magic beast I don’t even know whether I could hunt. I couldn’t believe a child could do it. I also heard the Gryphon the Crack of Dawn hero party from the Kingdom of Perdu kept as a familiar ran away, too. If only I’d asked for a bout before it escaped…”

Scooping up water with both hands, the Sword Saint washed his sweat-slick face, muttering, and letting his battle-mad honesty slip out at the end.

“…Yeah. That Gryphon.”

“What?”

“The Gryphon that hero party had is the Gryphon Roa’s traveling with. Their tamer just misunderstood and thought it was obeying him. They kicked Roa out of the party, and they destroyed themselves.”

Dietrich briefly explained what had happened to Roa and his familiars.

Of course, that didn’t mean he told the whole truth.

It was the version he had put together for the Adventurers’ Guild, salted with lies to keep secrets buried. The real truth was too absurd, and came with too many complications, for him to say out loud.

As he explained about Roa, Dietrich realized how much the list of things he couldn’t say had grown.

The Sword Saint was a good-natured old man, and trustworthy. Until recently, Dietrich had rarely kept anything from him, but since meeting Roa, the number of things he couldn’t tell even the Sword Saint had ballooned.

It felt like it might be fine to tell him, but he had no idea how stories might connect and spread through unexpected channels. Those worries had to be eliminated. After wavering, Dietrich ultimately concluded that keeping things secret was best.

“What are you hiding?”

As if he had seen through Dietrich’s thoughts, the Sword Saint questioned him.

It might have been a probe, but the suddenness made Dietrich’s expression stiffen.

“You have the eyes of a man keeping something to himself.”

“What are you talking about…?”

He’d been hit dead-on, and Dietrich faltered.

“The moment I saw you, I decided I had to interrogate you first! It’s important, but the affair on the beach pushed it aside! That is why I came straight here through the beach from the port. Now answer me properly!”

The Sword Saint’s voice grew louder and louder, echoing off the bathhouse’s high ceiling.

And in an unexpected way, it became clear why he had been on the beach. He’d been so eager to see Dietrich that he took the shortest route from the harbor, cutting across the shore, and that was how he encountered Roa’s group.

“I’m not hiding anything…”

“Don’t lie! You have the same eyes you had when you broke my precious vase the Queen bestowed upon me! And what is with those halfhearted answers? You hesitate because there’s something you can’t say, isn’t there?”

The Sword Saint flung his arm up, sending spray flying.

“You! You’re hiding a woman, aren’t you!!”

“Huh?”

Dietrich’s head, warmed by the bath, went ice-cold in an instant.

“You’re thinking that if you introduce her to me, I’ll steal her, aren’t you? Don’t worry. No matter how fine a woman she is, I have no intention of taking Dietrich’s woman! My student with the worst luck in women has brought one home. Even I can show that much consideration! Though if she’s a strange woman, I’ll make you break it off. Understood!!”

Maybe he’d gotten excited, because the Sword Saint rose out of the bath and approached Dietrich. The last thing Dietrich wanted was that naked body looming in front of him, so he grimaced and looked away.

“There, you looked away! So you are hiding her! When you come home, it’s only natural to bring back the woman you met on the road. What kind is she? Knowing you, she’s strong in a fight, and feisty enough to keep you under her heel. You always used to fall for cute girls you wanted to protect, but the women you actually ended up close with were always the strong ones!”

“Where did that come from!?”

“If you’re coming home in the middle of your training journey, that’s exactly what it means!”

He declared it so bluntly that Dietrich sank halfway under the water and clutched his head.

“I didn’t bring any woman home! I came back for a completely different reason! You senile old man!”

“I told you not to worry about me stealing her! I have properly got lovers in every port, you know! I’m not looking to add any more at my age! Now relax and introduce her!!”

“I said I didn’t bring any woman home!! Listen to me, you lecherous old geezer!!”

After that, the two of them kept bickering until they were lightheaded from the heat.

𑁋

While Dietrich and the Sword Saint were locked in their pointless squabble, Cornelia was in a different bath.

It was a bath used primarily by women.

Cornelia lay there stark naked atop a platform beside the tub, cushioned with soft cloth. Several handmaids stood around her, slowly and meticulously tending to her entire body. Cornelia writhed at the sensation of fingers gliding over her skin, desperately enduring it because making a scene would be rude.

“Such beautiful skin. Were you truly traveling? Even your hair is this lovely…”

As they rubbed perfumed oil into Cornelia’s skin, the handmaids voiced their amazement at how pleasant it felt to the touch. Even her hair, gathered up for bathing, gleamed with a lustrous shine.

At those words, Cornelia’s entire body, not just her face, flushed a faint red.

She might be a noble young lady, but Cornelia had spent her days training with sword and fist among men in order to become a knight as a member of a knight baronet’s house. She wasn’t used to being waited on by handmaids like some proper sheltered lady.

Much less to having her skin tended like this while completely naked. She’d only experienced it a handful of times.

She was only putting up with it because her older sister, Emilia, ordered her to. To be frank, she hated it.

The handmaids’ delicate pressure was unbearably ticklish, and it made her feel guilty to have multiple people fussing over her for her sake alone. Then they went and praised her like this, so the embarrassment was enough to make her feel like her face might catch fire.

“…Thank you very much.”

Cornelia, unused to compliments, mulled over what she should even say, then finally squeezed out nothing but gratitude.

She used polite language because many of the Marquis household’s servants came from lesser noble families. They served her here, yes, but some of them might belong to houses of higher rank than Cornelia’s own.

Incidentally, Cornelia’s beautiful skin was thanks to Roa.

More precisely, it was thanks to Roa’s “recovery potion candy.”

The recovery potion candy Roa made and distributed generously to Nostalgia’s members would slowly heal minor fatigue and small wounds without putting strain on the body.

Normally, any kind of potion burdened the body, and because that burden accumulated for a time, consuming too much would cause the side effect known as mana intoxication.

But by turning it into candy that dissolved over time, Roa made it so that, as long as you kept it in your mouth, you could maintain a steady state of recovery without suffering mana intoxication.

At first, Cornelia thought of the candy as nothing more than something for easing fatigue during long travel, or recovering during prolonged battles.

Then one day, she noticed her skin condition was strangely good. When she voiced that question, Bernhart muttered “of course” in response, and that was how she learned the recovery potion candy had beauty benefits.

Bernhart, who was knowledgeable only when it came to magic, had apparently noticed the effect the moment he first saw the candy.

If it constantly restored the body, then naturally it would quickly correct any trouble with skin and hair as well.

That said, the candy’s effect only restored you to your original condition.

However, if Cornelia kept up her beauty regimen the way she always had, that baseline “original condition” would keep improving, meaning it was only natural for her skin and hair to get better and better.

That was why Cornelia’s skin and hair, despite her traveling, were in even better shape than other young noblewomen who stayed home and devoted themselves solely to beauty care.

And recently, Roa improved the candy again: by swallowing a few tiny pellets, the effect would last for half a day. There was no need to keep licking it, the duration was longer, and it had become far easier than before to maintain the benefits.

“Seriously, you’ve got beautiful skin.”

“Eep!!”

A finger jabbed her suddenly in the side, sharp and unexpected, and Cornelia sprang up with a startled yelp. At the same time, she nearly drove her fist into the culprit, stopping at the very last instant.

“Big Sis!”

Seeing who had poked her, Cornelia hurriedly drew back the arm she’d raised, sat up, and covered herself with the cloth she’d been lying on.

Standing there was Cornelia’s older sister, Emilia.

“What’s this? You don’t have to hide.”

Without the slightest shame, Emilia let her gaze rake over Cornelia from head to toe.

“I’m embarrassed…”

“What are you saying? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about between sisters. You have a toned, beautiful body.”

Emilia, too, was naked.

With her hair simply gathered up for bathing, she stood there openly baring herself, not caring at all about the servants watching, handmaids included.

“Coney.”

She called Cornelia by her nickname and laid a hand on her shoulder. Cornelia’s shoulder twitched.

Truthfully, Cornelia was a little uncomfortable around her sister.

Emilia was a good sister, but she stood far too close, and she was always quick to put her hands on Cornelia.

And the way she touched her felt like the way a man might touch his lover, which always left Cornelia at a loss for how to respond. Somewhere along the line, that confusion hardened into discomfort.

When they were children, Cornelia was the clingy one, always following Emilia around and wanting to stick close. But around adolescence, the relationship reversed, and from then on, Emilia was the one who wanted to be with Cornelia at every opportunity, always wanting to touch her.

Of course, Cornelia still loved her sister. But she couldn’t hide her bewilderment.