DAR Vol. 4 Chapter 12 Part 4
“…A Sage? Me…?”
The sudden offer left Roa speechless.
One thing was clear: when Puffy said “Sage,” he didn’t mean the title used casually by the general public.
He was talking about a true Sage.
Someone revered across nations.
Someone with knowledge so vast and profound it bordered on the divine; someone who had peered into the depths of magic itself.
In this world, “Sage” was also used as an honorary title, but that was different.
True Sages were on an entirely different level, and the difference in power between the two was vast.
To Roa, a true Sage was someone impossibly far beyond reach.
And yet, Puffy was saying he could become one.
The Sage’s Herb Garden.
Based on the chant spell Uncle Gry had used, this garden likely once belonged to Philia: the Sage who had journeyed alongside the legendary Princess Knight Eileen.
According to the plays, she’d collected rare herbs during her travels.
If that was true, then this garden was more valuable than any treasure Roa could imagine.
But even so, he couldn’t help but feel unworthy.
He didn’t even need to think; the words slipped from his mouth on their own.
“…Someone like me…?”
<You really belittle yourself, huh? Just like Uncle Gry said. Those twin puppies of yours are apparently struggling, too. They want to become proper familiars. So hey, when the time comes, you should have names ready for them, okay?>
“Huh?”
The sudden change in topic threw Roa off even more.
<Anyway, let’s put that aside for now. The point is—you do have what it takes to be a Sage. Uncle Gry may be a twisted old man who almost never praises anyone, but even he acknowledges you. The fact that you’ve managed to keep someone like him as a familiar already proves you’re worthy.>
<Do not insult me.>
Puffy’s words were laced with casual insults toward Uncle Gry—
—which he completely ignored, responding only with a tired smile.
<Well, I know your confidence issues are deeply rooted. So don’t stress. Just take it easy and give it a try. I know you’re curious about the Herb Garden. Think of it as a little test. A gamble.>
<What are you trying to make him do?! Nothing dangerous, I forbid it! Even from you!>
<There you go again. So overprotective. If you keep that up, he’s going to get sick of you, you know? You’re such a worrywart, Geezer…>
Uncle Gry jammed his beak between Puffy and Roa’s head, shoving him off Roa’s shoulder.
Puffy bounced off the ground, hopped a few times, then stood upright and faced Roa again.
<Unlike Uncle Gry, I’m not the vindictive type. Even if you fail, I won’t punish you. So don’t worry.>
<He’s far more conniving than I am! Don’t trust a word he says!>
Uncle Gry started chasing Puffy around, but the little rabbit danced away easily while tossing back cheeky remarks.
It was like watching two puppies playing.
“You two get along well.”
Even as Roa muttered that with a half-smile, he couldn’t help thinking: Maybe they’re both just the same brand of trouble.
<We do not!>
<We do!>
“Pfft…”
Uncle Gry’s angry denial and Puffy’s cheerful agreement came at the same time.
Their personalities were showing through so clearly, Roa couldn’t help but laugh.
The tension he’d felt from all the talk of Sages and sacred gardens melted away.
<What’s so funny?>
Apparently irritated by Roa’s smile, Uncle Gry nudged him in the back with his wing.
<There we go. Now that you’re smiling again, it’s time for your first challenge.>
Puffy spun in place, flaring his ears.
With a rush of wind, they created a small whirlwind that rose up toward the canopy.
From the branches of the massive tree, a handful of leaves drifted down, spiraling gently.
The leaves floated toward Roa as if inviting him to take them.
<Take them.>
At Puffy’s urging, Roa reached out and caught them.
Ten leaves.
Palm-sized. At first glance, they looked like ordinary leaves.
<Those are leaves from the great tree Gaokerena. They’re a key ingredient in high-grade longevity potions. Just eating one will extend your lifespan. The rabbits here eat them regularly, which is why they live as long as humans and have such intelligence and agility. But—no one knows their true purpose. At least, no human alive does. That’s your challenge: figure it out on your own.>
Puffy gave a crisp little wink.
<If you uncover the leaves’ true purpose, that alone will qualify you to be called a Sage. That’s how difficult this task is. The leaves won’t rot or wither for centuries—they’ll stay fresh. Take your time. But you only get those ten. Once they’re gone, if you haven’t figured it out, the challenge ends in failure.>
Roa stared at the leaves in his hands.
He was being told to discover something that no one else had; using only his own power.
And he only had a limited number of tries.
The small, fluttery leaves suddenly felt heavy in his grasp.
Puffy skipped lightly around him, his steps playful and carefree.
Uncle Gry watched him with visible annoyance, as if the bouncing rabbit was the most irritating thing in the world.
<Yeah, yeah. Yesterday, some selfish Gryphon came asking for a souvenir—said he wanted some of the herbs from here. But this is the Sage’s Herb Garden. We don’t share herbs with anyone but Sages. If you want them, you’d better become one fast!>
Uncle Gry tried to kick Puffy again, but as always, the rabbit easily dodged him.
<Brat. You don’t have to take on a ridiculous task like that. Just sell those leaves! You’ll make a decent pile of gold! Then we’ll gather a whole bunch more! You don’t need to listen to this idiot! Strip the place clean—I’ll allow it!>
“Uh, we can’t just take them without permission, right?”
Uncle Gry’s disrespectful words earned a sigh from Roa.
Roa enjoyed gathering and experimenting with materials, but he would never take something that clearly belonged to someone else without permission.
“…Besides, Uncle Gry, I’m interested.”
Roa gently touched the side of Uncle Gry’s neck, calming him.
A spark of firm resolve lit in his eyes.
What interested Roa wasn’t the idea of becoming a Sage.
It was the chance to experiment with the Gaokerena leaves—something he’d never seen before—and find out what he could make from them.
If he was going to study them, he wanted to follow the rules of the place they came from.
Uncle Gry understood all of that from Roa’s single, quiet statement.
Roa had always been like this; running around to gather ingredients, experimenting with what he found, creating something new.
He never minded the trouble it took.
If anything, he probably wanted to avoid the whole “Sage” thing altogether. But the temptation of a new material? That was too strong.
Uncle Gry let out a long sigh.
<Tch… You walked right into Puffy’s trap… Puffy! Targeting the kid’s weakest spot like that—how underhanded!>
<But it was all because of you, Geezer Griiii~. You were the one who told me everything yesterday. So really, this is your fault.>
<Wait… don’t tell me… the reason you gave me that drink—>
<Yup! Loosened your tongue right up. You were very helpful. So informative. Thanks a ton.>
Uncle Gry shot him a sharp, bitter glare, but Puffy just grinned in response.
<Anyway, that’s everything I had to say—wait, no, one more thing. Just a little advice from an old friend… Ahem.>
Apparently catching himself using the wrong tone, Puffy cleared his throat even though he wasn’t technically speaking aloud.
<It’s just a bit of unsolicited advice, really! But when we attacked with the other rabbits yesterday, I caught the scent of Ephedra. You might want to look into that.>
“Huh?”
The sudden remark made Roa suck in a breath.
<Thought so—you didn’t notice. The scent was faint, just enough that most people wouldn’t pick up on it. I figure your twin wolf puppies probably smelled it too, but I doubt they know what Ephedra is. If they did, they would’ve warned you already.>
“Yeah… I’ve never worked with it myself, so they probably wouldn’t know. Wait—do you think someone was using it?”
<Pretty sure. It smelled like the kind of residue left behind when a person has it in their system.>
“That’s… not good. That stuff’s a mess. Unless it’s not being used regularly… Ah. No, they probably are.”
Suddenly, Roa was talking animatedly with Puffy, his earlier reticence vanishing.
Up until now, the atmosphere had kept him tense, but once the conversation turned to his field of expertise, he relaxed.
Arms folded, Roa began to think things through.
Puffy watched him closely, saying nothing.
“So that’s why they were acting like that… It all makes sense now. But why…”
<You’re amazing, you know that? Just hearing ‘Ephedra’ and putting it together like that. I’ve only got old knowledge, but it’s still a banned substance, right? Its production methods and ingredients were supposed to be sealed away, weren’t they?>
“I read about it in a book once. And from the effects, I can guess what kind of potion it would be used in.”
<Incredible. Do you also know how to help someone if they’re addicted?>
“I know the theory, yeah. But it’s tricky. If they’re hooked, they can’t even use healing potions—magic backlash is too risky. We’d have to time it when the effects wear off… But it’s not a chemical dependency, it’s psychological, so…”
<Hey! Stop talking just between the two of you! Explain it to me too!>
Uncle Gry couldn’t stand being left out anymore.
He forced his way between them, full of indignation.
It was pure jealousy; he didn’t care what they were talking about. He just couldn’t stand how well they were getting along.
<Oh come on, Geezer Griiii~. You’ve lived how long and you don’t know this stuff? Seriously, you should at least know the basics.>
Puffy’s mocking tone only made it worse.
With a scowl, Uncle Gry finally lost his temper and fired off a spell.
Stone arrows shaped like feathers shot from his wings.
<Oooh! A new spell, huh?>
Puffy dodged easily. The arrows struck the ground behind him.
“Ephedra, when used in a magic potion, becomes a stimulant. A ‘Wakening Potion.’ It relieves pain, restores stamina, sharpens focus. Makes you feel like you can do anything. Like the world’s expanded, like you’ve woken up in another reality. That’s why it’s called a Wakening Potion. But it affects the mind, so it’s classified as a forbidden potion—same category as love potions.”
Lost in thought, Roa ignored the quarrel between his familiars and kept explaining.
Normally, he’d be scolding Uncle Gry for firing off magic, but right now he wasn’t even paying attention.
<But it sounds useful?>
“It works too well. Used properly, it’s not addictive… but people still get hooked after one use. Happiness without effort is hard to resist. And it dulls fear—makes people reckless. A lot of people ended up dying because of it.”
The potion’s effects were dangerously seductive.
It gave such a strong sense of euphoria that people couldn’t go back.
They started taking risks without hesitation.
Many died doing reckless things while still under the influence.
Since the addiction wasn’t chemical, it was also very hard to treat.
<Why would something like that be around here?>
Uncle Gry’s question was valid.
Roa had anticipated it and answered right away.
“Think about it—if something can remove fear, erase fatigue, and enhance focus, don’t you think a country might bend the law to let certain people use it? There’s a job where recklessness is encouraged. Even if the person dies.”
<Soldiers… Makes sense. The investigation team is military. Wouldn’t be surprising.>
Uncle Gry spat the words bitterly.
<Exactly. Soldiers have always been allowed to use it. Only on intense battlefields, though. In the military, it’s called a ‘combat drug.’ Most soldiers have no idea what it really is. Some countries even add dependency effects on purpose to keep troops under control.>
Puffy responded, backing up Roa’s explanation.
Roa nodded firmly.
If even Uncle Gry didn’t know about it, then it must have been a long-standing state secret.
The only reason Roa knew was because of his obsession with magic potions; he’d dug through every scrap of knowledge he could find.
Even if something was buried, if enough people used it, there would always be traces left behind.
“And honestly, we’ve met people who act like they’re constantly doing reckless stuff, haven’t we?”
<Those damn knight women!>
Finally catching on to the conversation, Uncle Gry let out a roar.
“I think the Nemophila Knights are habitual users of combat drugs. That would explain a lot.”
The Nemophila Knights were infamous for their reckless behavior.
This wasn’t just a one-time thing; it had been widely known for some time.
And now, Roa had uncovered the reason behind it.
He had learned the secret driving the Nemophila Knights’ madness.
—
Night deepened.
The stars shimmered overhead.
Though they were nearing the edge of the forest, the canopy remained thick.
They’d found a clearing just big enough to camp in, but the visible sky was small.
Only one tent had been set up, wedged between the trees.
It was originally meant for soldiers and was much smaller than the large tent Eileen had used up until recently.
Inside that tent, Eileen lay on her bed, staring blankly into space.
She was alone; the only member of the Nemophila Knights not sleeping outside.
The others had wrapped themselves in blankets and were scattered across the clearing, sleeping under the stars.
“…I can’t sleep.”
Even though she alone was being treated with relative privilege, Eileen wore a look of discontent.
The tent was small—barely enough space for a bed and a side table.
As a Count’s daughter, even this was a humiliating setting.
She could sense the guards stationed outside. The fabric of the tent was thin and stained.
Still, it was better than the night before. That time, she’d had to sleep in a cramped carriage, unable to even stretch out her legs.
“How did it come to this…?”
She pulled the blanket up to her mouth and murmured softly.
When this journey began, it had been filled with nothing but hope.
She had imagined only one outcome: succeeding at a difficult mission, returning in triumph as a hero.
Her father, whose attitude had grown increasingly cold lately, would surely praise her for her accomplishments.
She had also expected to steal the Gryphon from that bland little adventurer and become someone worthy of the name Eileen.
She had planned to become the new protagonist of The Tale of Princess Knight Eileen.
To be recognized as the Eileen. To become a new legend.
And yet…
Since entering this forest, shadows had fallen over her heart.
They’d been attacked by mere rabbits, and both knights and soldiers had been left in tatters.
They had lost wagons, lost supplies, eaten a meager dinner, and were now sleeping in a shabby tent.
The credit for their survival had gone to a lowborn adventurer, and she’d been scolded by a rough-mannered knight.
None of it matched the heroic tale she had envisioned.
This wasn’t the kind of hardship a protagonist was supposed to endure.
It wasn’t fair.
With a sigh, Eileen let the dark weight pressing on her chest slip out with her breath.
“This won’t do. I can’t let myself spiral like this. I’m the leader of this investigation team.
If I waver, it’ll affect everyone.”
Muttering to herself, she sat up in bed and rang the small bell on her side table.
A delicate tinkling sound echoed, and a moment later, the tent flap opened.
“You called?”
It was Evelyn of the Nemophila Knights, responding to the bell.
“I can’t sleep. Could I trouble you for my usual sweets and water?”
“Yes, at once.”
She exited and returned shortly with a water carafe and a small candy box.
The carafe was glass, and the box was ceramic, decorated with elegant designs; completely unsuited for travel.
“Thank you.”
Eileen didn’t even look at Evelyn as she left.
She reached out for the candy box with practiced ease.
When she opened the lid, several small purple confections the size of a fingertip sparkled inside.
They looked like grapes, their surfaces dusted with sugar crystals that shimmered even in the dim light filtering through the tent fabric.
Eileen picked one up and placed it in her mouth.
“…Delicious.”
It was a special confection, distributed by the royal family only to those on the front lines or entering deadly battlefields.
A reward for those who had resolved to face death.
Various herbs were boiled down into a syrup, generously sweetened, and then set into gel using gelatin made from monster sinew.
It had a chewy texture and a satisfying mouthfeel.
As she rolled it across her tongue, it melted away, releasing a rich sweetness and floral aroma that filled her mouth.
It was noble, refined—fitting of something granted by royalty.
With just one piece, her fatigue vanished and her mood lifted.
Officially labeled a military supply, it was known by the crude name “combat drug,” but Eileen believed that was just a pretense; an excuse to bring sweets into the battlefield.
The Kingdom of Perdu was at peace.
There were still battles with monsters, but no wars between humans.
In truth, this sweet had no reason to exist. It wasn’t even produced domestically anymore.
But Eileen had obtained it through her own connections.
The logistics were handled by Evelyn, but Eileen always had access to it.
That alone made her feel special.
Every time she tasted it, she was reminded of her own exceptional status.
It had been a stroke of luck.
She’d heard a rumor about a Baron’s daughter with strong magic talent living in a remote region, and went to recruit her into the knights.
There, she’d obtained these sweets.
She would never normally visit such a backwater place; so to her, it had been fate. A divine sign.
“Ah, yes. I truly am a blessed being.”
She hugged herself, basking in the happiness rising from within her chest.
“This is just the kind of adversity that makes a story shine. A protagonist’s tale can’t be all joy, after all—there needs to be drama.”
Eileen’s eyes sparkled with renewed hope.
A soft flush rose to her cheeks.
She let out a dreamy sigh, savoring the warm, pleasant feeling that flowed through her body.