The old abandoned mine was narrow and damp. Because the group had to move in a long single-file line, it wasn’t possible to rest or sit down at will—it was more of a forced march.
Due to the lack of oxygen, they had to rely on air-purifying mana stones at intervals just to get by. While Banteon had once used such stones freely, they were a rare commodity for others, and the supply wasn’t plentiful. Suppressing the urge to pull out his own stash and forcing himself to match the others’ pace was pure torture for him.
Cleanliness was a nightmare. All they could manage was rinsing their faces and brushing their teeth with the little water they’d brought.
In contrast to the harsh environment, however, the mine subjugation itself progressed relatively smoothly. Occasionally, there were moments of uproar when bizarre, logic-defying monsters appeared, but none of them proved difficult to deal with.
“Gremlin nest sighted ahead!”
“Team 2, keep your eyes on the ceiling. Maintain pace.”
“Delroz-nim, could you take care of this one?”
“Tch… Stay put here, Petern.”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry.”
Delroz played a crucial role in speeding up the march by assisting teams that struggled with handling monsters. With his overwhelming abilities, he moved around bolstering their overall strength.
Banteon sat comfortably on the ground, observing the Subjugation Squad, which had come to a brief halt. Despite their exhaustion, no one appeared injured or sick. Contrary to the expectation that he’d act unilaterally and ignore everyone else, Delroz blended in well with the group.
Wasn’t he once the commander of a mercenary unit? Perhaps that explained why he seemed so used to taking care of others. Despite his scowling expression and blunt speech, he was quick to grasp difficult situations and resolve them efficiently. It was only natural that those under his command would come to speak well of him.
“Is it too hard for you?”
“I’m fine.”
Beside him, Petern, who used to serve under Delroz in his mercenary days, struck up a conversation. The words about not letting Banteon get even a scratch didn’t seem to be empty boasts—Delroz always assigned Petern to stick close to him whenever he had to leave.
Petern was a D-rank Esper. The lowest rank in the Center, but his specialized ability was a shield. He had the power to temporarily protect the surrounding area.
“Our captain is a bit… eccentric.”
“Not at all.”
“Still, he must like you, Banteon-nim. He’s not someone who usually keeps people close.”
“Is that so?”
His indifferent reply made Petern’s gaze flick briefly toward Banteon’s silver hair.
“Maybe he’s developed a silver-hair fetish or something…”
It was a quiet murmur, but Banteon, who was close by, heard it loud and clear.
“So he likes silver hair.”
“Ah, no, I mean—he never had any preferences before. Really. Oh, and please don’t worry. Our captain’s so uptight he can’t stand men.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“He’s so extreme about it that he insists on receiving guidance only from women…”
Recalling the past, Petern gave a small, disgusted shiver and then asked cautiously,
“Um… I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question, but… Banteon-nim, are you even capable of guiding our captain?”
“It’s difficult for me as well.”
“Ah, I thought so…”
Petern’s shoulders slumped. As someone constantly at Delroz’s side, he was most keenly aware of his unstable condition. He had taken the death sentence hanging over his captain the hardest.
When Banteon’s name appeared as a temporary guide, Petern had allowed himself a sliver of hope. But after observing for a few days, that hope gradually faded. Delroz avoided physical contact with Banteon just as he did with other male guides. Even when right next to him, he made conscious efforts not to touch. He never requested guidance. He simply stayed nearby, silently ensuring Banteon’s well-being.
To an observer, it didn’t look like an Esper and his guide, but rather a noble young master and his loyal bodyguard.
Unlike the disappointed Petern, Banteon was thoroughly unsettled.
Delroz’s energy, as he moved freely and used his strength to its fullest, was calm—eerily calm. Like a perfectly still surface of water, neither overflowing nor lacking, flowing with perfect balance.
Over the past few days, Banteon hadn’t seen Delroz make physical contact with any guide. Except himself—the only one who stayed by his side 24 hours a day.
Just a few days in close proximity, and his energy had already stabilized.
At this point, there was no room for doubt. Even without direct physical contact or actual guidance, Banteon could tell. Whatever had happened during that night of rampage, Delroz had become someone that only Banteon could guide.
Now that he understood the situation, it was time to regroup with Tearot and discuss what to do next. Should he allow himself to be bound to that man and provide guidance… or ignore it, let him die, and go on enjoying his life?
He was only hesitating because of the potential collateral damage from a rampage. In truth, his heart leaned one hundred percent toward the latter.
Whether Delroz knew any of this or not, he was faithfully upholding his promise. As if honoring his vow to protect Banteon from harm, he watched over him throughout the entire march. Though he never spoke kindly or fawned over him, his gaze was always fixed on Banteon.
Even while they moved through those cramped mine shafts, not a single scratch appeared on Banteon’s uniform.
‘What is he thinking?’
Delroz himself would know his body best. He must have at least a vague sense that his condition had improved, even without direct guidance. Was he pretending not to notice simply because he didn’t like male guides? But that couldn’t be it—this was a matter of life and death.
The danger of not having a compatible guide had driven Delroz all the way out here to this remote, crumbling mine, essentially chased off his own path. If he simply found a compatible guide, there’d be no need to rot away in a place like this.
He could live proudly at the heart of the kingdom, hold his official title, and enjoy the future that had been promised to him. Yet even knowing all that, Delroz made no effort to change course.
“Looks like it’s over.”
As Petern said, Delroz could be seen walking toward them from a distance. Unlike Banteon, who was spotless and neatly kept, Delroz was soaked in the dark, sticky blood of the monsters he’d slain. Even in that state, his long neck and piercing eyes drew attention with an overwhelming presence.
With each step he took, heads turned in his direction. It wasn’t just over the past few days—Banteon had acknowledged it from the very first moment he witnessed Delroz in combat.
It was nothing like all the other Espers he’d seen, not even like his own younger brother, who was S-rank. It felt less like watching a skilled Esper and more like beholding a being from an entirely different species.
“You’re not hurt, right?”
“Not a single shard of rock grazed me.”
“Good.”
Delroz let out a breath and dropped into a seated position beside him. With his eyes closed, he regulated his breathing, giving off a vibe similar to that of an Esper receiving guidance.
His calm posture suggested he was trying to sense even a little more of Banteon’s presence next to him.
Maybe it would be better to just ask directly. Hiding what was already clear wouldn’t change anything. As long as the fact that he was the one who stopped the rampage didn’t get out, there was no reason to keep it a secret that he could offer guidance.
“By any chance…”
Banteon was about to ask if he already knew that guidance was possible, but the words never made it out.
Delroz, who had been resting in peace, suddenly stood up and threw his jacket over Banteon. The blood-soaked, tattered fabric landed on him before he could even react—and then, the entire mine shook violently.
“Everyone down! Activate your shields!”
Amid the thunderous tremors, Commander Sotenru’s voice rang out like a scream.
Everyone pulled out the emergency shield mana stones they had been issued—one per person, just in case of a crisis.
With trembling hands, Banteon retrieved the stone he had tucked into his chest pocket and activated it. A faintly opaque spherical barrier formed, enveloping him. The tremors intensified with each passing second. He could hear chunks of rock hitting and bouncing off the shield.
Since entering the mine, nothing like this had happened. How long would the shield hold? Just as that thought tightened his throat with tension, he saw Delroz standing directly ahead.
Unlike the others, he wasn’t using a shield—he stood firm in place, eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk on alert.
Even if the entire mine collapsed, Delroz probably wouldn’t be in any real danger. But his face was as rigid and cold as a stone statue.
“Shit.”
A low curse slipped from his lips. He bit down lightly on his lower lip and moved toward Banteon, crouching close.
“What… is this?”
“We shouldn’t be near the core yet. Someone triggered something.”
Core?
That was the first Banteon had heard of such a thing. There had been no mention of a core during the mission briefing. All they were told was that abnormal monster summoning was occurring, and that this might be the result of a newly formed dungeon that needed to be investigated and dealt with.
He hadn’t even known that dungeons had cores. While Banteon was still trying to make sense of it, the tremors worsened. Falling rocks struck his shield and scattered off. The barrier, which had been doing its job, was gradually turning more and more transparent.
Before it could go completely clear and lose its function, Banteon tried to secretly pull out a spare mana stone he had hidden. His gloved hand fumbled over his chest but failed to get a grip on the slick crystal. Clenching the glove in his teeth, he yanked it off and reached into his inner pocket again.
That moment, his entire body jolted.
Delroz moved faster than Banteon’s hand.
He slipped his arm under Banteon’s shoulder and in one fluid motion, lifted him off the ground and pulled him into his arms.
