DAR Vol. 4 Chapter 13 Part 5
“You’re safe! Thank goodness!”
That was the first thing out of Roa’s mouth when Dietrich spoke to him.
Dietrich looked well enough, but Roa noticed a bruise on his face, as if he’d taken a punch.
His joy at seeing them again was immediately replaced by concern. He imagined they must have survived a serious ordeal to get here.
All throughout this journey, Roa had seemed composed, but in truth he’d constantly worried about both the party Nostalgia, whom he had dragged into this, and the investigation team traveling with him.
So when he saw their familiar, unharmed faces, it was no surprise his true feelings came spilling out.
<It seems your magic formulas have improved.>
“Y-Yes! Thanks to your guidance, Uncle Gry! Both accuracy and efficiency have increased. I’ve also been applying that experience to help the others improve their magic!”
Bernhart didn’t exchange much more than a nod with Roa before hurrying over to Uncle Gry, dropping to one knee before him.
He looked every bit the devoted retainer. That must have been his way of showing utmost respect.
Some soldiers of the investigation team watched the exchange from afar, clearly unsettled.
Bernhart had suddenly dropped to one knee and begun speaking reverently to a gryphon; it wasn’t something they could easily wrap their heads around.
“This is an excellent testing ground; the targets never run out! I did let that Harpy escape once earlier, but thanks to that, I’ve now grasped the trick to precision aiming. So long as it’s not darting around, I’m confident I can shoot flying monsters out of the sky! Of course, I’m well aware that I’m only able to test so freely because of Roa. I swear, I will repay this great debt without fail!”
<Exactly! All thanks to the boy! You’d better show your gratitude!>
“And also, it seems I may have a talent for healing magic as well! After prolonged exposure to that marvelous magic tool’s aura, I realized even my meager body possesses that potential. This too, I owe to Roa and Uncle Gry! I haven’t formed an actual spell yet, but I will—without fail!”
<Is that so! Splendid! And be sure you express your gratitude to the boy properly!>
Uncle Gry, it seemed, was happier to hear Roa being appreciated than to receive praise himself. He emphasized it again.
His previous foul mood had vanished entirely. Thanks to Bernhart, he was now in a fantastic mood.
“…Hasn’t Bernhart’s vibe changed again?”
Roa muttered this to himself as he watched the enthusiastic exchange.
Cornelia, who had given Roa a quick hug when they reunited, answered with a complicated expression.
“Fighting magic beasts here made him feel his magic abilities growing. So apparently, he’s decided—once again—to follow Uncle Gry for life. It’s not admiration anymore. It’s faith…”
“Faith, huh…”
The word brought Roa’s thoughts back to a relay town they’d passed through earlier in their journey.
It was the same place where people had been saved by Uncle Gry and had come to worship him, even carving little wooden gryphon statues. Roa smiled, remembering the rare banquet held with people who weren’t afraid of Uncle Gry for once.
“You’re grinning like an idiot now. Cornelia’s hug felt that good, huh? Getting curious about that kind of thing, are you?”
“Huh? No, it’s not like that!”
Dietrich must have misunderstood, seeing Roa looking so pleased after Cornelia hugged him.
He slung an arm over Roa’s shoulder with a lewd grin.
“If you’re finally getting interested in that sort of thing, I know just the place—”
“Don’t teach him weird stuff!”
The moment Dietrich made an obscene grabbing gesture in the air, Cornelia’s foot slammed into his back.
Completely unprepared, Dietrich was kicked clean off his feet and tumbled across the dirt.
“What’s all the ruckus about?”
Kristoff, who’d gone to tie up the wagon, returned.
He, too, had some scrapes on his face but looked no worse for wear.
And so, Roa and Nostalgia were reunited. They immediately began sharing stories of their journeys, smiling all the while.
…All while leaving Dietrich to writhe in the dirt, clutching his back.
“Pardon me. May I speak with you for a moment?”
The one who addressed them as Roa and Nostalgia chatted was none other than Joel, the highest-ranking member of the investigation team outside of the Nemophila Knights.
Perhaps still wary, he’d brought two other male knights with him.
“Forgive me. I was so happy to see a familiar face that I forgot my manners. We’re adventurers from the Kingdom of Nereus. Our party’s called Nostalgia. We’ve been training in the domain of Count Amadan. Due to certain circumstances, we’ve accepted a mission from our homeland to head to the Citadel Dungeon. I hope we can get along.”
Dietrich answered Joel’s polite greeting with a straight back and formal tone.
The fact that he’d just been kicked flat by Cornelia moments ago seemed completely forgotten—his ability to switch gears was remarkable.
“Thank you for the introduction. I’m Joel, a knight in service to House Amadan. I’ve been acting as the de facto leader of this investigation team. So, would it be correct to say you’re acquaintances of Roa? Including that… somewhat eccentric gentleman over there?”
That eccentric gentleman was Bernhart.
He was still deep in conversation with Uncle Gry. From everyone else’s perspective, though, he was simply kneeling in front of a gryphon, gesturing and talking like a madman.
Joel’s tendency to add one comment too many had made its appearance, but Dietrich didn’t bat an eye.
“Yeah, just ignore him. He’s got a bit of a condition.”
He agreed without hesitation.
Technically, if it got out that Bernhart could hear Uncle Gry’s voice, it could cause major problems. But no matter how many times they warned him, Bernhart refused to stop. Even Cornelia had given up.
Better to let him be thought of as an eccentric than risk exposing the truth.
Anyone watching him now would just assume he was delusional.
“As for Roa—we’re from different countries, and we’re not in the same party. But we’re comrades.”
He deliberately emphasized the word “comrades,” as if laying a claim.
Then he flashed a grin, full of teeth. His expression was friendly, but his eyes had a hint of warning.
“I-I see. Well, we owe him our lives, and we think of Roa as our comrade as well.”
Joel echoed the same word, “comrade,” and returned the smile.
“…Comrades, huh…”
Dietrich’s expression shifted.
He was sizing Joel up now—like a predator eyeing its prey.
“Is something the matter?”
“……”
Joel sensed something uneasy in Dietrich’s gaze but as a knight, he couldn’t look away. He met that stare head-on, unwilling to show weakness.
“…Just thinking, that’s all.”
“Thinking?”
“…Seems there’ve been more and more people lately calling someone a comrade just to use them.”
Dietrich muttered pointedly. It was a warning: anyone who tried to use Roa for their own gain wouldn’t be forgiven.
“What!? We have no such intention!”
Joel immediately tried to object, but found himself unable to explain it clearly.
He tried to defend their position, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized how heavily the investigation team was relying on Roa for this journey. Without Roa, they wouldn’t have even made it past the rabbit attack, let alone gotten anywhere near the Citadel Dungeon. They would’ve been wiped out, or at best, forced to retreat.
And most of all, there was the meeting with Eileen. The one where they agreed to use Roa and his familiars to press forward.
On the other hand, Dietrich also realized that what he had just said mirrored the exact same words that had once been said to him, back when they first met Uncle Gry.
In that moment, Dietrich understood how Uncle Gry must have felt back then.
When he glanced over, Uncle Gry was watching him with a look that all but said, “You’re one to talk.” Clicking his tongue, Dietrich looked away.
“Well, whatever. Since we’ve met up, we’re not planning to go off on our own. Will you allow us to travel together?”
“…”
Joel couldn’t answer.
“To be clear, we’re the ones who saved you from that Harpy earlier. You know that, right? So it should also be clear we have no hostile intentions. We just want to move alongside Roa. We don’t plan to trouble you, and if danger comes, we’ll lend a hand. What do you say?”
Dietrich pressed the issue.
But Joel only frowned, troubled.
“I’d like to say yes—especially after you saved our lives—but… I don’t have the authority to make that decision.”
“Then who do we talk to? Let us negotiate directly with the leader.”
“That’s the problem…”
Joel hesitated.
Though he’d been acting as the de facto coordinator of the team, the official leader was still Eileen.
However, ever since Uncle Gry scared her half to death, she’d locked herself inside the carriage and hadn’t come out since.
In fact, Joel had taken so long to approach the members of Nostalgia because he had tried several times to get Eileen’s input on how to handle the situation but she refused to respond, and the Nemophila Knights wouldn’t act without her say-so. In the end, Joel had no choice but to greet them on his own judgment.
“She probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with lowly adventurers, huh? Fine. Then we’ll do as we please. Let’s just say we happen to be headed in the same direction. We’ll keep to ourselves and you do the same. No cooperation, no interference. Like merchants in a trade caravan.”
“Well… if that’s the case, then I suppose I have no objection.”
In caravans, it wasn’t unusual for travelers heading in the same direction to move as a group. The goal was simply to reduce the risk of attacks from monsters or bandits. Even if they traveled together, they rarely interacted much. It was no different from sharing a stagecoach and pretending you were complete strangers.
They shared the benefits but if something went wrong, they could abandon each other without hesitation.
That was the kind of relationship Dietrich was proposing.
Joel begrudgingly accepted it, and seeing that there was nothing more to discuss, Dietrich left without another word.
Joel had wanted to exchange more information, but Dietrich’s attitude left no room for further conversation. He had to give up.
“…Roa hasn’t changed a bit.”
Cornelia, who had been quietly watching the exchange, murmured under her breath.
She herself had no desire to get too deeply involved with the investigation team, so she welcomed this decision. The soldiers and knights looked weak; more of a liability than anything else.
And most importantly, the deeper the interaction, the more likely their secrets would be exposed.
“What hasn’t changed?”
Roa tilted his head. He didn’t understand what about that exchange warranted a comment like that.
“I mean, it’s still nothing but old men who keep flocking to you.”
He blinked, then started thinking through the people Nostalgia knew.
His employer, Coralde: definitely an old man.
Most of the artisans and guards he was close to were also older men, long-time employees vetted by Coralde.
Then there was Bruno the blacksmith: also an old man.
His apprentices were mostly young girls, but Roa hadn’t gotten close to any of them.
And of course… there was Uncle Gry.
“Now that you mention it, everyone I know—including you guys—is an old man…”
“Wait, are you calling me an old man!?”
Dietrich practically lunged toward Roa, looking betrayed.
“From Roa’s perspective, you, Bernhart, and Kristoff are all old men. He’s half your age.”
“If I were twice his age, I’d be over thirty! I’m not even thirty yet! I’m still in my twenties!”
“You’re a middle-aged man to a teenager like Roa. Unlike me.”
Cornelia smiled with confidence.
She was twenty-two—much closer in age to Roa than Dietrich was. And more importantly, she was a woman. No way Roa would lump her in with the “old men.” At least, not in appearance.
“You’re always calling me a kid!”
“Because you act like a kid—like some middle-aged man-child!”
“Hah!? No wonder that woman called you the loud one! You totally earned it!”
“Pfft! Says the kid who’s happy just because he got a hug while wearing his adorable patched-up pants! You childish old man!”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask about that too.”
Roa finally joined the bickering, pointing to Dietrich’s pants.
He’d noticed it ever since they met up again; on the thighs of Dietrich’s trousers were two bright red patches shaped like dog pawprints.
Roa knew those were from the time the twin wolves tore holes in his pants… but why go out of your way to patch them with something so flashy?
“That’s…”
“A mark of friendship from your beloved twin puppies, right?”
“No! That idiot Kristoff—!”
“Don’t pin this on me! You left it ripped for a month! And you didn’t even wash them! They reeked!!”
Kristoff joined in.
They were arguing, yes, but everyone was smiling. It was more like friendly banter than any real fight.
Watching the lively exchange, Roa smiled; his first true smile since this journey began.
The lingering anxiety he’d felt ever since leaving on this trip finally lifted.
And while no one noticed, both Uncle Gry and the twin wolves watched him with warm smiles of their own.
𑁋
In the end, the investigation party didn’t move from their location and simply let night fall.
Joel visited Eileen’s carriage numerous times to consult her about what to do next, but she never emerged, nor did she even respond. Before they knew it, the sun was sinking, and they had no choice but to camp where they were.
The members of Nostalgia, prioritizing their exchange of information with Roa, made no complaints about the delay and quietly began setting up camp alongside them.
“If they’d just decide to observe the Citadel Dungeon from here and head back, that would really be the best outcome.”
“Would that still count as the investigation being complete?”
Roa was helping with camp preparations alongside Nostalgia. At the moment, he was making dinner.
Kristoff and Cornelia were helping too, though Cornelia was focused on chopping vegetables and didn’t have the bandwidth to join the conversation. Kristoff was doing most of the talking.
“It would. Ideally, they’re supposed to get closer, but the goal is investigation. If they conduct their observations from a visible distance, it’ll still count. As long as they confirm the Gryphon is still nesting there, they’re good.”
The Citadel Dungeon Investigation Team’s objective was, as the name suggested, investigation. More specifically, to confirm whether the Gryphon still considered it its nesting ground. If that could be confirmed, the mission was essentially complete.
Given how Eileen tended to run wild, they’d all assumed they’d end up having to approach the dungeon directly but now it was looking like they might not move at all.
The knights and soldiers were already mentally broken. No one was even suggesting moving forward. After being attacked by undead and a Harpy, they finally understood that without Roa and his companions, they wouldn’t even be able to hold this position.
<Now that just sounds boring! …Is this done yet?>
Uncle Gry leaned over to peer into the bubbling pot nearby.
Of course, he wasn’t helping; he’d just gotten impatient and wandered over to check.
“It’s not about whether it’s boring. We’re all eating together once it’s done, so don’t start picking at it!”
<But it’s a good training opportunity, no? …Besides, I’m starving. Surely a little nibble wouldn’t hurt?>
“Even if we’re fine with it, we can’t drag the investigation team along for it. If they say they’re done and want to go home, we stop here. So no. If you sneak a bite, you’re skipping dinner.”
<Hmph. Then we should just leave them here. …It’s only the lazybones’ portions that aren’t done yet, right? Let the flashy one handle those and let’s eat now.>
“That’s not happening either. What if something attacks while we’re away? Just wait a little longer.”
<I could leave a pouch with my scent behind. No fool would dare steal from a Gryphon. The undead might come nosing around, but that weird hot water you boil drives them off, right? …Besides, the smell’s driving me crazy with hunger. The twins are getting restless too.>
“Baw!”
“Baw!”
“You guys, can you not have two conversations at once? I’m getting lost over here.”
Kristoff, who’d been quietly listening nearby, couldn’t take it anymore and raised his voice.
Everything was just too tangled. And more importantly, he really didn’t like the way life-and-death decisions and dinner were being discussed on the same level.
Maybe for Roa and Uncle Gry, Citadel Dungeon and stew carried the same weight, but for Kristoff, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was thanks to Roa and the others that they could afford to even cook in this place. They weren’t operating from a place of security.
It didn’t feel right to lump the topic of dinner in with something so serious.
<Flashy One, I say we head for the old nest. Also, I’m starving.>
“I said no to both. Just a little longer.”
<There are rare monsters over there, you know? Way better materials than that bird-thing from earlier. You didn’t use that Harpy meat in this stew, did you? Stuff stinks to high heaven.>
“What? Really? Well, it does have a human face, so I wasn’t planning on eating it. But monster feathers like those do make good arrow fletching… Materials, huh…”
“Don’t fall for it, Roa! And stop mixing conversations!”
Roa’s eyes had sparkled at the word materials, prompting Kristoff to panic. If he left it alone, Roa would get talked into something for sure.
<I resent the implication that I’m deceiving him.>
“You’ve got a record!”
Kristoff kept his tone light, but he was actually pretty nervous.
He’d gotten used to it, but Uncle Gry still gave off that unnerving sense of something mysterious.
Cornelia felt the same way. Unlike Dietrich and Bernhart, she and Kristoff still kept a bit of distance from Uncle Gry.
Still, they both knew he seemed to enjoy rougher, more casual conversation, so they kept things informal on purpose; it was a strategy to stay in his good graces.
Uncle Gry snorted, but he didn’t look displeased.
“And anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea to act too boldly right now. About Roa’s… combat drug story… I think there’s more going on behind the scenes.”
<A hidden agenda?>
Kristoff glanced around, then lowered his voice.
Roa had already filled in the members of Nostalgia on what had happened during the journey. Since Uncle Gry didn’t stop him, he’d even talked about Puffy and the combat drugs. The only things he’d left out were the whole “Sage candidate” part—because Roa didn’t believe it—and the chanting magic, which Uncle Gry seemed to want to keep hidden.
Everything else, Roa had explained.
Kristoff had needed time to mentally process all of it. It was a lot. Especially the bit about the Sage’s Herb Garden. That one gave him a real headache.
Every time you took your eyes off Roa, he ended up tangled in something outrageous.
𑁋
“I don’t know if this whole Citadel Dungeon expedition is connected, but that Eileen… someone from another country’s pulling the strings.”
<Hmm?>
“Combat drugs like that—I’ve never dealt with them myself, but aren’t they basically under royal control? That Eileen, despite being called a knight captain, plays at it like it’s a game. No way someone like her could get her hands on something so restricted. Especially not in the Kingdom of Perdu. There’s no war here. If even Roa’s never handled the ingredients, then they’re rare to the point of probably not even being produced locally. That makes it more likely she got them through foreign channels than from anyone in Perdu.”
Uncle Gry hadn’t considered that far ahead, but hearing Kristoff lay it out, even he had to admit, there was no way someone like Eileen could’ve gotten those drugs on her own.
Roa, who had traveled the world as a member of a former Hero Party and gathered almost every kind of material himself, hadn’t even managed to acquire the ingredients. That meant there was no way they were obtainable around the Kingdom of Perdu.
And if it came down to importing them from another country, well, that would be nearly impossible. After all, combat drugs were banned by official channels. It wasn’t just about difficulty; it was outright forbidden.
In that case, as Kristoff suggested, the more natural conclusion was that some other country had facilitated it and delivered the drugs to Eileen in secret.
<You lot aren’t behind it, are you, Flashy One?>
“Not a chance. I’ve got eyes on every little move our country makes in Amadan. And besides, we don’t use that kind of stuff. If I had to guess, it’s either the Northern Alliance or the Adad Empire.”
<How very well informed. As expected of a mere scout from a regular ol’ adventuring party from Nereus! Not even trying to hide it anymore, are you?>
“…Was that supposed to be sarcasm, you feathered snake?”
Kristoff already suspected Uncle Gry had figured out who they really were.
That’s why, before he knew it, he’d walked right into the Gryphon’s bait and started talking about things that were dangerously close to his actual job. He didn’t know how much Roa had picked up on, but he definitely didn’t want to talk about it in front of him.
If possible, he wanted to keep their relationship simple: as fellow adventurers.
Roa, busy tending the food, tilted his head. He didn’t follow the conversation at all. The topic was certainly intriguing, but anything involving nations felt too distant for him to comment on. He knew his place.
<Even if that Reckless Noble Girl is a foreign spy, I see no reason why I should hold back.>
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you not to act rashly. We don’t know what the full picture looks like. Worst case, Roa gets targeted. And you know as well as I do—he’s got enough talent to be a target.”
<…Mgh… fine.>
When it came to Roa’s safety, Uncle Gry had no choice but to back down.
Kristoff knew that and had used it to rein him in. Thankfully, the tension was diffused.
“All done! Let’s eat. Thanks for entertaining Uncle Gry, Kristoff!”
<Don’t make me sound like a nuisance.>
“Weren’t you though?”
At some point, Roa had taken over the vegetables Cornelia had been chopping and whipped up a stir-fry.
He carried the serving bowls over while gently herding the dissatisfied Uncle Gry along.
With things finally settled peacefully, Kristoff let out a relieved sigh.
