Delroz had already gotten out of the water and was fully dressed, silently watching Banteon. Not a word, not a sound—just quiet observation.
“What are you staring at?”
“Ever think about growing your hair out?”
Delroz’s sudden remark made Banteon’s body twitch in surprise. He had momentarily forgotten—he was hiding his identity from Delroz. He might have let his guard down too much. His mind began racing. He quickly backed away and leaned against a rock as if to hide himself, putting on the glasses he had taken off.
“I’ve never considered it.”
“Hmm…”
“Why would you ask something like that all of a sudden?”
“It just seems like it would suit you.”
What kind of intent was buried behind that offhanded word, “just”? Banteon’s gaze narrowed.
“It’s a nuisance.”
“True. It’d look ridiculous on a guy anyway.”
He had no idea why Delroz even asked. The more they talked, the harder he was to figure out. Having lost interest in the conversation, Banteon slowly stepped back toward the water’s edge. He dried himself off with the large leaf Delroz had brought and began to dress in the clothes he’d left on the rock. As he slipped his arms into the sleeves beside the fire and fastened the buttons, he could feel a thick, lingering gaze crawling across his side.
If he hadn’t known that Delroz disliked men, he might’ve completely misunderstood that look—it was that intense. The unease made Banteon swallow, just barely.
“So, where are we headed now?”
“I saw signs of human presence on the other side of the water. Let’s start there.”
That, at least, was good news.
Banteon instinctively looked across the gorge in the direction Delroz mentioned. But all he could see were dense trees and faint ripples on the water’s surface. Being an Esper with superior physical abilities, Delroz must’ve picked up on something Banteon couldn’t.
The thought that they might find a village if they followed those signs eased some of the tension. If they could just reach a city with a Royal Esper Center branch, they could send out a rescue request.
Both Banteon and Delroz had disappeared, so it was obvious how chaotic the Center must be. As long as they reported they were alive, a rescue team would come—no matter where they were in the country. It was only a matter of time.
Encouraged by that, Banteon gave a slight nod.
“Looked like an old campsite. Not that long ago, either.”
Still standing in the water, Banteon picked up a branch he’d noticed earlier. It was the right length and had just enough flexibility to serve as a makeshift walking stick. Twisting his stiff ankle, he tested it out with the improvised cane.
His ankle had been soaked in the cold water long enough that the swelling had gone down and it was easier to move. Just as Banteon began to take a cautious step forward, a massive forearm blocked his path.
“It’s too far to walk.”
“I’m not going to be carried all the way to the village.”
“I’ll put you down once we reach the edge.”
“…”
Even with a firm protest, Delroz showed no intention of backing down. Logically, Banteon knew he was right. What Delroz saw as ‘close’ would likely take forever for Banteon to hobble through with a cane.
“If we move quickly, we might sleep in a bed tonight.”
That final remark from Delroz was a tempting offer, hard to refuse. It had already been two days of curling up on cold, hard dirt to sleep. Even without saying a word, his entire body ached in protest. The last scraps of water-soaked jerky were nearly gone too. If there really was a village, they could at least count on a soft bed and some warm food.
It might not be fancy, but it would be better than this.
Still, it was tough to accept being carried in Delroz’s arms while completely sober. Banteon let out a heavy sigh and stepped forward, only to see Delroz standing there with his arms open wide, waiting. Banteon flinched just before handing himself over.
“Could you carry me on your back instead?”
“Why?”
“…I think it would be more comfortable for both of us.”
From Delroz’s perspective, carrying Banteon on his back would be easier. When held in his arms, he couldn’t use his hands and had to be extra cautious to avoid obstacles while holding Banteon horizontally. Still, it was hard to grasp why Delroz insisted on carrying him like that in the first place.
Delroz pondered the suggestion for a moment before giving a slight nod, as if granting a favor. Banteon stifled a sigh and leaned his weight forward, wrapping his arms around Delroz’s neck. He was getting disturbingly used to this mode of transportation.
“Forget that crap.”
He had gone through the trouble of finding a branch sturdy enough to use as a cane among the twisted, dried trees. Delroz snatched it away in an instant and tossed it to the ground.
Before Banteon could even complain, his feet lifted from the earth, his body quickly secured against Delroz’s back. Without a word of warning, Delroz hoisted him up and began walking.
Leaning against Delroz’s broad, stable back—strong enough to carry a full-grown man with ease—Banteon watched the forest fade behind them. Their pace picked up steadily.
Once they had spotted the old campsite and verified the footprints, Delroz began moving quickly again. After some time, the forest trail started to look more worn and organized. There were unmistakable signs of human activity.
In the distance, they could see a crude fence made of interlaced wood and brick. A small village, likely inhabited by hunters.
To Banteon, it looked like the ruins of a prehistoric settlement where cavemen might have lived. The place was laughably primitive—but it was, without a doubt, inhabited.
“Good thing we got here before sundown.”
“Please put me down now.”
Delroz gently lowered Banteon to the ground, careful not to put pressure on his foot. Then, he handed him a decent-looking branch. If he was going to do this, why had he thrown away the cane Banteon picked earlier?
Banteon sighed but accepted the stick. It was sturdier and more flexible than the one he’d chosen. Guess the man had a decent eye after all.
Just as Banteon was about to take a step, Delroz blocked his way. Without a word, he unzipped the collar of Banteon’s jacket and pulled out the black hood hidden inside.
He tugged the hood down low, covering Banteon’s silver hair completely.
“Aren’t you going to wear yours?”
“I’ll be fine.”
If being conspicuous was the issue, Delroz was hardly less noticeable. As much as Banteon hated to admit it, the man’s towering frame and rugged looks drew attention no matter where he went.
It annoyed him that he was the only one who had to cover up, but Delroz was clearly more familiar with villages like this. No point in stirring trouble over pride. Banteon quietly nodded and followed his advice, pulling the hood down low.
***
The village perimeter offered no real defense. There were no guards or sentries, and the flimsy fence seemed built just to keep wild animals out. Once they stepped over it, entering the village was trivial.
Villagers walking about glanced at them, eyes flicking to their uniforms. In a place like this, such high-quality material was hard to miss and naturally drew attention. But the stares didn’t last long. People wearing bear pelts or fishnet outfits were common here, and odd appearances weren’t unusual. Still, quite a few remained wary of Delroz’s hulking presence.
They stopped by the open market on one side of the village to buy basic necessities and a map.
It was a small place, so there weren’t many businesses offering proper lodging. Eventually, they found a half-decent building that doubled as a restaurant and an inn, and stepped inside.
Ding-ling.
The bell above the door rang, drawing the attention of the people preparing food in the distance. Among them, a middle-aged man who seemed to be the owner shuffled over, drying his wet hands on a dirty apron. He looked them up and down lazily.
“How many nights?”
“One. Food delivered to the room.”
“One room?”
“Yeah.”
He meant to say two—but missed the timing. Caught off guard, Banteon ended up taking the key the owner tossed at him without a second thought. It was a rusty old hunk of metal that didn’t even look like it would turn properly.
“Ten.”
“Oh, the money, um…”
Banteon reached for the pouch on his belt, ready to pull out a few suitable coins, but froze.
Ten what?
Was it ten silon? Ten gold? He had no sense of the local currency. Uncertain, he hesitated, then dumped a handful of coins from his pouch into his palm. The store owner, who had been moving sluggishly until now, instantly swept his gaze across Banteon like a hawk.
Just then, a massive hand clamped down over Banteon’s palm. Surprised by the sudden grip, he looked up to see Delroz glaring coldly above him.
With practiced ease, Delroz slipped two of the thinnest, dull-colored coins through his fingers and tossed them at the owner.
“Twenty. Keep quiet.”
“A-Ah. Got it. Sure thing.”
The man’s face went pale as he backed away, nodding repeatedly under Delroz’s low, growling voice. The air between them had turned sharp and heavy. Banteon looked up at Delroz’s hardened expression, his jaw clenched tight.
“Let’s go.”
Delroz took Banteon’s cane, then scooped him up again. In broad daylight, in front of a crowd, Banteon was suddenly being carried again. He shouted in protest.
“Why do you keep picking me up without a word?!”
“Quiet.”
“I can walk up a few stairs just fine!”
“Please… just shut up.”
The nearby drinkers were now openly staring. Feeling all their gazes on him, Banteon stopped mid-complaint.
On the opposite side of the staircase, a scruffy middle-aged man sitting at a table met his eyes. Banteon frowned at the man’s unkempt beard that connected to thick sideburns. In response, the man bared his yellowed teeth in a grin. The guy sitting next to him let out a sharp whistle, two fingers between his lips.
At that sound, Delroz’s shoulders tensed.
He shifted Banteon around so he was being held face-to-face, then pulled the hood down even further. Though it was already covering all of Banteon’s hair, now it hung so low it blocked his field of vision.
