Shin Translations
patreon
Early DAR Vol. 4 Chapter 13 Part 4
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 16:08:56 +0000 UTCFull title: Starting a New Life for the Discarded All-Rounder
Note: We're looking for an editor/proofreader for this novel!
Translator: Airis
____________________________________________
Meanwhile, on the Citadel Dungeon plains, the knights and soldiers were moving about with uneasy expressions.
Everyone wore a heavy air of silence. It seemed no one knew what to say in the face of what they had just witnessed.
The confusion caused by the sudden battle against the undead was one thing—but it was Roa and his companions' absurd method of fighting the undead that had truly thrown them for a loop.
The undead had been exterminated like insects using some kind of medicine.
Those with only standard combat experience were the most shaken.
After the battle had ended, Roa hadn’t revealed the truth about the holy water. He claimed it was a special type of healing potion. And since everyone had seen the effect with their own eyes, the entire investigation team believed it.
Even now, a large pot of the so-called healing potion was bubbling in the middle of the hastily erected camp.
Though the thick steam from earlier was no longer rising, it still had enough effect to keep the undead at bay.
But believing in the potion’s effect and understanding what had happened were two very different things.
Unable to make sense of it all, everyone tried to push away their unease by throwing themselves into their tasks.
“Well then! Let’s take a break and have a light meal, shall we?”
The only one who seemed completely unfazed was Roa.
While the rest of the investigation team was still confused about what to do next, Roa had single-handedly built a temporary kitchen and prepared food for everyone.
It was a simple vegetable-and-milk cold soup, but the speed at which he made it left them stunned.
The pot he used had, until recently, been filled with that so-called special healing potion—actually holy water. Seeing that, many of the knights and soldiers wore conflicted expressions.
“You’ve probably worked up an appetite after all that fighting. And when you’re hungry, you tend to think more negatively! Just think of this as a snack. It’s chilled, so it’ll refresh your mind too!”
Saying that, Roa passed out wooden bowls filled with soup. Once everyone had theirs, he began sipping his own.
Maybe that excuse was a little forced, Roa thought to himself.
It was an odd moment to serve soup, but he had his reasons. Roa had always intended to serve this soup to everyone as soon as they entered the Citadel Dungeon’s domain.
This soup was something he had carefully planned long before the journey even began—for the sake of keeping everyone alive.
Its name: Roa’s Special Cold Soup with Anti-Death Potion.
Before setting out, Roa had been warned by Uncle Gry that the Citadel Dungeon might contain a Lich capable of using instant-death magic. So he created a solution.
That kind of magic can kill outright under the right conditions—especially if the target is physically or mentally weakened by fear. And undead were terrifying enough to make first-timers crumble.
But if they drank this soup, it could prevent that.
Unfortunately, this potion wasn’t commercially available, and Roa had no intention of selling it. Most people had never even heard of it. If he tried to hand it out openly, people might not drink it. And since he was giving it away for free, they’d be even more suspicious.
That’s why he disguised it as soup.
He’d tried mixing it into chilled water or tea first, but the potion had a bitter and sour taste that made it obvious something was mixed in. If diluted too much, the effect would be lost.
The solution? A hearty soup with enough flavor to mask the taste.
And since heat would degrade the potion, it had to be served cold.
Some ingredients also interfered with its effects. Meat in particular was a poor match, and certain vegetables could cancel it out altogether. Roa had painstakingly tested everything.
What he created was a delicious soup packed with vegetables, subtly enhanced with the life-saving potion.
The effect lasted about three days. When Roa first developed it, it only lasted eight hours—but after adjusting the ingredients and even cultivating the core plant with holy water, he had extended its lifespan dramatically.
He had to get this soup into everyone as soon as they entered the dungeon's domain. That was the entire point.
“There’s plenty for seconds—have as much as you like!”
Seeing that they had all started drinking it without resistance, Roa breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Even Uncle Gry and the twin wolves, who probably didn’t need it due to their strength, were happily drinking the soup a short distance away.
Uncle Gry, who claimed to hate vegetables, seemed pleased by the addition of milk.
The soldiers, now full and more relaxed, were starting to recover from the shock of the battle. Confusion still lingered, but at least a few smiles were beginning to appear among the group.
And at that moment—
“This stuff is beneath me!!”
With a loud clatter and splash, something hit the ground. When Roa looked over, a wooden bowl had rolled across the dirt, its contents soaking into the earth.
“I would never eat something made by a lowly adventurer! Are you mocking me!?”
A shrill voice cut through the air. The pleasant atmosphere that had been taking root was instantly replaced with tension. The one shouting was Eileen.
When Roa had handed out the soup earlier, she’d looked stunned and accepted it without a word. But now that the mood had shifted, she’d suddenly come back to life. Red-faced, she flung the soup-filled bowl to the ground and shouted.
The female knights of the Nemophila Knights hadn’t touched their bowls either—likely because Eileen hadn’t taken a single sip.
“You desecrated a sacred battlefield, a glorious fight, with some disgusting potion! And now you're serving soup like it’s nothing! How can you all drink this filth!?”
Her voice was shrill and unhinged, throwing a tantrum no one could understand.
<Shall I just kill her quickly?>
“Hey! Uncle Gry!!”
The instant fury shot through the group didn’t come from a human.
Uncle Gry turned a cold gaze on Eileen and began walking toward her, feathers and fur standing on end, radiating menace.
“Eep!!”
The aura of death Uncle Gry gave off wasn’t just enough to make Eileen tremble—it had the entire camp frozen in place.
<So she grew arrogant just because I gave her a little attention? Ever since I formed a familiar contract with the brat, I’ve gained new elemental affinities. I’ve got plenty of new spells to test. How about a water-earth composite spell called Muddy Torrent? A stream of sediment-laden water that shreds the body like sandpaper. Fufufufu…>
“Uncle Gry! Stop! That's too much!”
Roa rushed to block his path, arms spread wide—but Uncle Gry didn’t stop. He didn’t even acknowledge Roa, his eyes fixed solely on Eileen.
<For someone who wasted food, pouring boiling oil into her guts and roasting her from the inside sounds fitting. I'd heat it with fire magic and control the liquid flow to make sure not a drop spilled before it scalded her throat. She’ll remember the value of a meal as she chokes on the smell of her own burning flesh.>
“You're scaring me! Seriously, it's just soup! Why are you this angry over soup!?”
Uncle Gry’s “voice” only Roa could hear was now sounding far too homicidal.
Still, anyone looking at the Gryphon could tell he was enraged. Not a single soul dared move. They feared doing so would result in instant death. Some had already collapsed, unable to stand.
Roa wrapped his arms around Uncle Gry’s body and stroked his feathers, trying to calm him.
“Please… just breathe…”
But the fury wasn’t fading. Small streaks of lightning began to spark and swirl around Uncle Gry, charring the grass beneath his claws and filling the air with smoke.
The lightning, however, expertly curved around Roa—never touching him.
While everyone else trembled in terror, only the Twin Magic Wolves stared at Uncle Gry with frosty expressions.
<What? Don't call me childish, you two! That girl trampled on Roa’s kindness. She deserves to pay. These people are far too rude. Someone needs to put them in their place.>
Apparently, the twins had said something that finally reached him. Uncle Gry, who had ignored even Roa’s voice, reacted.
Roa took advantage of the moment and grabbed his beak firmly.
Only then did Uncle Gry break eye contact with Eileen and turn to look at Roa.
“Uncle Gry, come on. Let’s take a walk. Sorry about this—I'll calm him down over there. Please, go ahead and enjoy your soup.”
Still holding his beak, Roa began to walk.
Uncle Gry, now chided by the twins and led by Roa, reluctantly followed.
Once they left, an awkward silence fell over the camp.
“...Why!? He’s mine!! Why are they defying me!?”
Eileen kicked the spilled bowl away and stormed back toward her carriage.
The other female knights of the Nemophila Knights followed, leaving their untouched soup behind.
Those who remained were too shaken to feel hungry, their hands trembling, but they still picked up their bowls.
Everyone had the same thought: wasting the soup would make Uncle Gry furious again.
And if even a single drop was left… they might die.
So they downed the soup as quickly as they could. Even though their taste buds were numb from fear, they made sure to finish the leftovers in the pot and the bowls the knights had abandoned.
As the uneasy atmosphere weighed on their backs, Roa walked away from the scene, still holding Uncle Gry’s beak.
They moved just far enough that they could still see the group but no longer hear them.
“Uncle Gry, calm down.”
<You're not going to scold me, are you? She's clearly in the wrong here, isn't she?>
Uncle Gry glared at him. Eileen’s behavior had truly gotten under his feathers.
But Roa held his gaze, unflinching.
Then, he gently hugged Uncle Gry around the neck.
<Hmm?>
Uncle Gry had been expecting a lecture. Instead, Roa’s unexpected show of affection left him blinking.
“You got angry for me, right? Thanks.”
<...>
As Roa softly stroked his cheek, the storm of rage that had fluffed up Uncle Gry’s feathers began to settle.
“I mean, trying to kill her might’ve been a bit much, but… I appreciate the thought.”
Even Roa couldn’t bring himself to tell Uncle Gry never to kill humans.
No matter how much he resembled one, Uncle Gry was still a magic beast. Roa had asked him to fight other magic beasts—telling him he couldn’t turn his claws on a human just because they shared a species wasn’t fair.
Besides, Roa had taken assassination contracts in the past, back when he was part of Crack of Dawn. If the target was a bandit or murderer, the guild had no issue assigning those jobs.
He’d seen humans kill each other time and again. It was just how the world worked.
This wasn’t a peaceful land. Wars still happened. Violence was a fact of life.
People’s lives were cheap.
“But still… try to hold back, okay?”
Even so, Roa didn’t want Uncle Gry to kill people if it could be helped.
“I can bear what I need to bear myself. That’s all.”
Uncle Gry averted his eyes at Roa’s words, though it wasn’t clear how he’d taken them.
<…Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t get angry for your sake, boy. I just couldn’t forgive that girl for wasting food. I’m a magic beast. Eating and fighting are what I live for. Don’t misunderstand me.>
But his expression looked strangely lonely.
“Thanks.”
<Like I said—it wasn’t for you! Tch… more importantly, there are some unpleasant things heading this way.>
Apparently flustered, Uncle Gry forcefully shifted the topic.
“Unpleasant things?”
<The one coming from the sky is a Harpy. They live clinging to the outer walls of the Citadel, scatter their filth everywhere, and make the place an eyesore. They have human faces but not a shred of intelligence. Probably caught the scent of food and came skulking around like the filthy scavengers they are.>
“That sounds… really bad.”
If food for a Harpy meant people, then the only humans nearby were Roa and the members of the investigation party.
<They only pick on the weak. As long as you stay near me, you’ll be fine.>
Uncle Gry raised his gaze to the sky, and Roa followed suit.
At first, he couldn’t see anything. But before long, a bird-like silhouette came into view.
Dark, ominous wings. A magic beast with the body of a vulture and the head of a human—a Harpy.
There was only one, but it was circling slowly in the sky, gradually drawing nearer.
<Hm. It’s wounded. That’s a pain.>
Uncle Gry muttered with a touch of annoyance.
<Must’ve tried to attack something and got hurt in return. It’s injured. And a wounded beast tends to lash out. Even with me here, it might charge.>
And just like his words had foretold, the Harpy began to dive, closing the distance toward them.
After a wide final arc, it suddenly came straight at them.
“Watch out!”
Its trajectory wasn’t toward Roa and Uncle Gry, but toward the investigation party, a short distance away.
Maybe it had judged them easier prey than staying near Uncle Gry—or maybe it was simply drawn to the larger group.
The knights and soldiers hadn’t noticed it yet. Even when Roa shouted, they only looked at him in confusion.
Only the twin magic wolves were tracking the Harpy with their eyes. They crouched low, preparing to spring as soon as it came close to the ground.
They had no means of attacking airborne enemies. They’d have to leap once it descended. But the speed of its dive—more like a plummet—might be too fast to react to.
“Uncle Gry!”
Roa called out, urging him to act.
Of everyone present, Uncle Gry was the only one with a surefire way to strike the enemy down.
Flying beasts were a threat for that reason alone. Even the weakest among them became deadly just by virtue of their mobility. Most humans couldn’t handle them—even with magic.
<There’s already someone getting ready to attack. Relax.>
“Huh?”
Roa glanced around, but there was no movement from the investigation party.
<I told you. Unpleasant things.>
Only one had come from the sky, so “them” didn’t make sense. And Uncle Gry had deliberately clarified from the sky, which suggested there were others—coming from different directions.
Others Uncle Gry didn’t like.
While Roa puzzled over his words, the Harpy continued its dive.
Then, something shot in from the side.
“A spear?”
Even from a distance, Roa could recognize the glint of metal and the sharp whistling of air.
A throwing spear—launched by someone.
<If they’re hitting at that range, it must be that loudmouthed woman with body enhancement.>
“Wait—Cornelia?!”
The spear flew straight for the descending Harpy.
The Harpy noticed it at the last second, just before impact. It couldn’t dodge entirely, and the weapon grazed its wing. Trying to avoid a direct hit, it spread its wings wide—halting its descent.
In that brief pause, a bolt of lightning lanced out.
<Her aim’s gotten better too. All thanks to my guidance!>
Uncle Gry puffed up with pride as the Harpy, struck midair, emitted a flash of white smoke and plummeted.
Roa turned toward the direction the lightning had come from.
Far off in the distance, though still tiny and hazy, he could make out familiar silhouettes.
He stared for a moment in disbelief—but his expression slowly melted into joy.
It was the members of Nostalgia who had brought the Harpy down.
Too far to make out their faces, but Roa couldn’t possibly mistake the outlines of those figures he knew so well.
The thrown spear had come from Cornelia. The lightning strike—from Bernhart.
Roa had never seen Cornelia use a spear before, but if she could land a hit on a diving Harpy with a single throw, she had to be skilled. Even accounting for body enhancement, that kind of range and precision was masterful.
I’ll have to ask her to teach me how to use a spear sometime…
Roa made a mental note.
“Yo! Been a while—how’ve you been?”
Before long, the wagon carrying Nostalgia rolled up to them.
The soldiers of the investigation party looked on warily at the group approaching, but having just witnessed them down the Harpy, they understood what had happened.
Their lives had been saved; no one was foolish enough to greet that with hostility.
And more than that, seeing Roa and the others waving to each other as they approached made it obvious—they were fellow adventurers who knew each other.
𑁋
