Early DAR Vol. 5 Chapter 17 Part 6

Full title: Starting a New Life for the Discarded All-Rounder

Note: If you found any typos/mistakes, pls write them in the comment. Thanks.

Translator: Airis

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<In the first place, there are far too few magic beasts suitable for me to stage a convincing crisis! If there had been more, I could have saved this plan for another time.>

If it had been a Dragon or another highest-ranked magic beast, Uncle Gry might truly have been slain; with weaker magic beasts, his holding back would have been obvious.

The Gryphons were just about the only opponents near at hand who were “just right.” Miss this chance, and who knew when the next would come.

<But the chicks were even more disappointing than expected. I began to doubt whether they were truly trying to kill me. I had to arrange things so they would all attack at once, then give them openings to escape and regroup. It was troublesome. In the end, I was growing rather weary of it all, but Roo and Phi’s quick wits saved me!>

The twins’ collapse, of course, had been an act.

They had noticed that the shadow-using Gryphon was casting Stun, so they deliberately took the spell and pretended to be knocked out.

Since the enemy had gone to the trouble of stunning them, they guessed there must be some stratagem against Uncle Gry, and decided to play along.

<Still, those chicks have no idea how to use hostages. To throw them like that—far too shortsighted. Surely the proper line would have been, “If you value their lives, surrender quietly!” That is how it ought to be done, is it not?>

Expecting “theatrical convention” from magic beasts was absurd.

That Gryphons, magic beasts though they were, had the wit to attempt taking hostages at all was already remarkable. Magic beasts' battles were normally contests of strength—domination by sheer power.

It was Uncle Gry, with his insistence on such human notions of form and drama, who was truly abnormal.

And the twin Magic Wolves, who could anticipate their foes’ plans and fold them into their own scheme, were hardly less so.

<Ah yes. When the brat contracted with Puffy, that gave me quite a scare. I had told Puffy something of the circumstances beforehand—he might have shown some restraint.>

The twins had been anguished by Roa’s refusal to contract with them, and then he had contracted with Puffy upon their very first meeting. That was when Uncle Gry resolved, if necessary, to use forceful measures.

<Well, in any case, it all turned out well enough!>

Talking to himself, Uncle Gry nodded, satisfied.

But of course, not everyone was satisfied; the boy standing before him most certainly was not.

<Ah! We’re going to play for a bit!>

<Play time!>

The twin Magic Wolves, who had been nuzzling against Roa’s face as he lay on the ground, suddenly sprang away. They seemed almost flustered as they dashed off.

<Hm? What’s this all of a sudden?>

<Good luck!>

Without giving any explanation, the two wagged their forepaws at Uncle Gry and bounded off.

<…What’s that about?>

Uncle Gry tilted his head at their strange behavior.

Then came the impact.

A heavy thunk, striking his head. There was no pain, but the surprise wrung from him a pitiful squeal: “Piiiiii!”

<What—!>

“…Uncle Gry. We need to talk.”

Before him stood Roa.

He must have risen while Uncle Gry’s attention was on the twins. In his hand was a large wooden brush—Uncle Gry’s favored brush.

But it was often put to other uses as well. One look at it, and Uncle Gry realized what that earlier blow had been.

<Brat! Why are you striking me!? >

With another thunk, Roa brought the brush down again.

<Y-You brat!>

“You know, Uncle Gry, I always figured you had secrets and things you couldn’t tell me. And I thought that was fine—I didn’t need to hear everything.”

Even as he spoke, Roa swung the brush.

<Brat, wait! Is this not a talk!? >

“I’m still a failure of a person, and even if you told me something important, I couldn’t do anything. So it made sense not to tell me.”

His eyes were fixed, and the anger blazing there was plain.

Uncle Gry glanced at the twins in the distance, they had surely fled because they sensed this coming. Magic Wolves lived in packs, skilled at reading one another’s emotions. They had understood Roa’s feelings, but rather than warn Uncle Gry, they had left him as the scapegoat.

Another blow of the brush fell.

“And besides, when there’s something you don’t want to talk about, no matter how much I ask, you’ll never say, right? That’s why I gave up on trying to have talks with you.”

<Wait, brat!>

“Even before I could speak, I could sense some of your feelings. I told myself it was fine. But if you’ll go so far as to lie… then I can’t help but wonder if this really is okay.”

<Very well! I was wrong to deceive you! Forgive me!>

Uncle Gry bowed his head in quick admission.

“No… it was for the twins’ sake. I know I was at fault too, dragging my feet and refusing to decide. But still, my feelings—”

<Enough! This is turning into a tedious talk! I admit fault for the lie! Let that be the end of it—clean and clear! Your talks are always so long, brat!>

“I was so worried. I really thought you were going to die. You said with such confidence it would be fine, so I trusted you… but when I saw you hurt, I thought I never should have come here…”

Roa clutched Uncle Gry’s head tightly against his chest.

His hands trembled as they held him.

“I worried, but I couldn’t stop you; I never knew what you were thinking. And when I thought you were injured, I regretted not forcing you to stop, even if it meant dragging you back. Lie to me if you want, look down on me all you like, but please—don’t do anything that dangerous again.”

Drops fell onto his head, and Uncle Gry realized Roa was crying.

He let the tears trickle down his face, closing his eyes and exhaling quietly.

He did not understand why Roa was so angry, but he did understand that he had worried him.

And losing what was precious, that was what Uncle Gry feared most.

It was a feeling he had known and tried to discard many times across his long life.

The pain of worry was something he knew all too well.

<…Forgive me, brat. I will never again act in a way that makes you worry. My judgment was lacking—>

“Uncle! Your magic’s weakening!”

Roo’s cheerful voice cut him off.

Uncle Gry turned in vexation, only to see the four Gryphons he had pinned moments ago gathered together.

They had raised walls of stone and vines to block his wind magic, preparing their counterstrike.

Even now they had not broken, worthy of high-ranked magic beasts.

And right before them, Roo and Phi wagged their tails happily, watching intently.

As if they were eagerly waiting for the Gryphons to shatter Uncle Gry’s spell.

<…So my control slipped…>

Magic was assembled and maintained by structuring formulas within one’s mind, and mental agitation could disrupt it greatly. Panic, surprise, or pain from an injury could all prevent the spell from functioning.

At that moment, Uncle Gry’s attention was on Roa, and his focus had wavered. That alone was enough to disturb his control.

Only the fact that the spell was a simple wind-binding and only one spell at that kept it from collapsing completely.

<No help for it. I’ll crush them.>

With cold decisiveness, he made his choice. Roa might be crying, but Uncle Gry had no room to spare for it.

<Uncle! Leave it to us!>

<Leave it to us!!>

<The twins against four Gryphons? Impossible.>

By Uncle Gry’s reckoning, the twins’ ability was about equal to the Gryphons. Two against two, or one against one, they might prevail—but two against four was hopeless.

<I’m Roo! We’ll be fine!>

<I’m Phi! Borrowing your mana, okay?>

But the twins spoke with unshakable confidence.

<What—! Wait! What are you—twins!!>

The instant they said “Borrowing your mana,” Uncle Gry felt his body overwhelmed by fatigue. Even for him, it was a first.

A sudden plunge in his mana.

It was being siphoned away.

Drained in an instant until empty.

Normally, the depletion of mana would only render one unable to cast; the body itself suffered no harm.

But for a being of Uncle Gry’s immense mana, to lose it so abruptly was different. The rapid change strained even the vessel that contained it—his body.

It was like tipping water slowly from a flask versus yanking it all out at once; the latter warped the vessel itself.

Unable to bear the sudden exhaustion, Uncle Gry collapsed to the floor.

<We’re not the twins—we’re Roo! Sorry, Uncle!>

<I’m Phi, sorry! Now you and Roa can have a good talk!!>

Their cheerful voices rang out without a trace of guilt. Of course, it was they who had emptied Uncle Gry’s mana.

Through the familiar contract, Roa and Uncle Gry were bound by a shared mana conduit.

And just now, Roa had contracted with the twin Magic Wolves—Roo and Phi.

Thus, mana flowed between all three: Uncle Gry, Roa, and the twins.

With that connection, Roo and Phi could draw upon Uncle Gry’s mana. Normally, he could regulate the flow, but this time he had been caught off guard.

Unprepared, he was drained to emptiness in one surge.

Given the lack of contrition in their voices, it was most likely deliberate.

<So much power!!>

<So much energy!!>

Around the red Magic Wolf Roo, flames coiled into a blazing vortex. The fire enveloped his whole form, weaving into a cocoon of flame.

Around the blue Magic Wolf Phi, dazzling ice crystals swirled. The brilliance obscured sight as it wrapped around his body, forming a cocoon of ice.

With Uncle Gry’s mana emptied, all his spells dissipated. Even the wind magic pinning down the Gryphons vanished.

Freed, the Gryphons lunged for Roa and Uncle Gry—only to halt, transfixed by the bizarre scene before them.

“…What is that?”

With Uncle Gry slumped, Roa lifted his head.

The light of the cocoons reflected on his tear-streaked cheeks.

<Khhh…>

Uncle Gry groaned in pain, but since it was clearly the twins’ doing, Roa only stroked his head gently.

The twins might bully him, but they would never cause fatal harm. Roa wiped away his tears once more, keeping his gaze fixed on the shining cocoons.

<They got me. I let my guard down. They must be reshaping their bodies using my mana.>

“Reshaping?”

<It’s a power only a handful of the highest-ranked magic beasts possess—the ability to transform. For the twins now, it will only be a partial change, but still…> 

“Like in fairy tales?”

Many legends told to children spoke of magic beasts taking human form. Often it was a romance: a beast turned man rescuing a tragic maiden, then marrying her.

When Roa heard of transformation, he thought of one such tale: “The princess offered in sacrifice marries the Dragon who became human.”

<For Roo and Phi to wield magic like those legends would take centuries. But what they’re doing now… close enough.>

“Ah!”

The cocoons burst. Showers of sparks and glittering frost scattered and drifted down.

From within stepped two immense Magic Wolves.

Far larger than Uncle Gry, perhaps twice his size. At their sight, the nearby Gryphons faltered in fear. The difference was as stark as adult to child. Even in appearance, the superiority was plain.

<Takes after their mother. Even their names played a role.>

Still collapsed upon the floor, Uncle Gry murmured.

What stood before him were grown forms that bore the twins’ likeness.

The red Magic Wolf Roo now had a coat of translucent crimson, shining like the ruby that inspired his name. Flames streamed from him like a silken mantle.

The blue Magic Wolf Phi bore a pelt of deep navy, translucent as the sea. It gleamed with the radiance of sapphire. Bands of frost drifted about him, shining with a blade’s sharp edge.

“Beautiful…”

Roa found himself staring, entranced.

Both figures were exquisite—downright bewitching.

<Their grown forms. What you would see in a few hundred years.> 

“They get that big!?” 

<What are you saying? They will grow far larger. The twins are special!>

Uncle Gry sounded inordinately proud. If he were not slumped on the floor, he would have arched his chest in triumph.

<All right—here we go!>

<Overrun!!>

Even in their matured bodies, the twins’ voices remained adorably bright.

At their cry, the flame mantle and the glittering diamond dust surged toward the Gryphons. All four Gryphons squealed in alarm. They tried to defend with magic, but only managed to raise walls of rock and vines.

<Fire’s not allowed, okay?>

<Ice isn’t allowed either, okay?>

Fire and ice were the twins’ own attributes. Borrowing Uncle Gry’s mana, they seized control of those branches of magic and prevented activation altogether. Even the two walls that did appear were useless: the rock wall melted away under flame, and the vine wall froze and shattered.

Terror twisted the Gryphons’ faces.

It was the look of despair.

Toyed with by Uncle Gry until their will had nearly broken, they finally snapped. Against Uncle Gry and the twin Magic Wolves, they felt utterly outmatched. Gripped by fear, they bolted to flee.

And so the chase began.

A fight for life on the Gryphons’ side; a gleeful game on the twins’ side.

The Gryphons tried to escape through the shattered windows, but the twins would not permit it. Swift as the wind, they cut them off again and again.

Whenever the Gryphons used magic, the twins deftly countered with spells of equal grade, nullifying them; pursuing without letting them go, careful not to kill.

The twins were having the time of their lives.

To them now, the Gryphons were nothing more than delightful playthings. Their hunting instincts blazed as they bounded about.

“This is getting a little cruel, isn’t it?”

Roa let out a long sigh.

He had always felt some sympathy for the Gryphons. By any measure, they were victims of Uncle Gry’s past.

Even so, since they had aimed for his life, he had steeled himself not to forgive them. A magic beast that once sought your life, if carelessly spared, would come again. With his familiars’ and Nostalgia’s lives at stake, mercy was a luxury he could not afford. He had forced himself to cut off those kinder feelings.

Yet watching the Gryphons scramble in panic before his eyes, pity crept back in despite himself.

After showing such abject misery, surely they would not try to attack Roa’s side now. It felt like enough was enough.

“Please don’t kill them! They’re victims of Uncle Gry, and I don’t think the Gryphons themselves bear malice!”

<What is that supposed to mean!?>

Uncle Gry’s protest came at once.

<It’s fine! We’re just going to play with them and make them our servants!>

<We’re only going to ‘talk’!>

Despite saying “talk,” the twins did not stop harrying the Gryphons. It seemed they had learned the word a bit incorrectly.

“Then how about we have a little ‘talk’ too?”

Roa smiled sweetly and tightened his grip on the brush.

Imagining the “talk” to come, Uncle Gry turned pale.

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