Delroz continued recounting what he’d heard from them.
“They said divine punishment was about to fall and begged me to save them.”
This wasn’t something even Rohan had mentioned. Had he really overheard the women talking, or did they actually say that themselves?
He recalled the women who had stood before Delroz a little while ago. They were ordinary country girls—nothing out of the ordinary except for the slightly more glamorous clothes they wore for the festival. Why would such people suddenly grab Delroz and say something like that?
“They were clinging to me desperately, saying strange things, and I couldn’t shake them off. That’s the only reason I was delayed.”
“Is that for real?”
“There’s no reason for me to lie.”
“No, I mean—did those women really say that?”
Delroz frowned at the repeated question but eventually nodded. At that, Banteon’s face hardened. It was too perfectly timed to dismiss as the ramblings of a madman. He couldn’t begin to guess why both of them were approached with the same words at the same time.
“I heard the same thing. That the sky was dangerous, and I shouldn’t go to high places.”
“What?”
Delroz’s expression turned grave.
“Who the hell is that guy?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve only met him once before. And even then, we weren’t exactly close… huh?”
A strange sensation swept through him. A thought suddenly surfaced, paralyzing his mind and making him feel like he was about to throw up. Rohan and Banteon had only met once. It was months ago, during a visit to Yasen.
What condition had he been in when he visited Yasen back then?
The realization hit him like a giant spear piercing his entire body. At that time, Banteon had long hair and wore a recognition-disruption device. Even Delroz, an SS-Rank Esper, hadn’t been able to recognize him while he was on the verge of rampaging.
But Rohan?
He had recognized Banteon at a glance, even though Banteon hadn’t disguised himself. He approached so naturally that Banteon had forgotten he’d ever been in disguise in the first place.
The unbelievable truth made him bite down on his trembling lips. His pale face grew even more ashen. Delroz, who’d been watching him closely, scowled and grabbed Banteon’s arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“……”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’ve got a bad feeling. Let’s head back to the Center branch. There are too many tall buildings around the fountain.”
The fountain was located in the busiest area of the town. The hotel where Banteon and Delroz were staying was just a stone’s throw away. He wanted nothing more than to return to the hotel and rest, but Delroz tugged him in the opposite direction, away from it.
Banteon followed Delroz in silence. Though his feet moved, his mind was still spinning from the shock related to Rohan.
What the hell is going on? Someone immune to mana stones?
They walked until the fountain was out of sight. Maybe they were just being overly cautious. The sky above remained calm and dark.
Were they just getting swept up by some lunatic’s nonsense?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a blinding flash of light and a deafening roar erupted behind them.
—Kyaaa!
—Run! It’s coming this way!
Screams tore through the air, far but sharp enough to slice through the ear. As they turned their heads, their entire field of vision turned red. The first thing they saw was the hotel they had stayed at last night. The top floor suite where they had slept was engulfed in bright red flames. A collapsed sign and pieces of the building rained down mercilessly onto the square below.
“Oh my god… What is that…”
A groan escaped his lips involuntarily. But it wasn’t just the burning hotel that was the problem. Behind it, descending from the sky like a rain of hellfire, massive gargoyles were flying toward the city. Dozens—no, hundreds—of monsters were charging in at breakneck speed. Their crimson eyes, packed like stars in the night sky, sent chills down his spine.
One of the rapidly descending gargoyles tore through a tall building with its claws like it was paper.
A dark shadow suddenly loomed over him. Delroz’s back blocked Banteon’s view. Instinctively, Banteon grabbed the hem of his clothes tightly.
“What the hell is happening…”
“A monster raid. Out of nowhere. I don’t know why.”
“What about the people? How bad is it?”
He didn’t need to hear the answer. It was a stupid question. The gargoyle had just brought down a hotel, and burning debris had crashed into the plaza. The square had been packed with festival goers, dancing beneath it all.
It didn’t take a genius to know the entire town was about to become an inferno.
A single gargoyle could reduce a small village to ashes. And now, hundreds of such creatures were attacking at once. The scale of the damage was impossible to predict. Banteon bit his lip hard.
Who the hell is Rohan really?
An unregistered Esper with no visible aura. Immune to mana stones. And now, he had predicted the appearance of monsters. No—Banteon had never considered it before, but perhaps Rohan had the power to summon them.
Banteon started to move.
He didn’t know who Rohan truly was, but the more he tried to make sense of it, the clearer one conclusion became. Rohan had to be caught—now. They’d just parted ways; if he hurried, he might still catch him. He was a conspicuous person, easy to spot even from a distance.
Just as Banteon was about to move, Delroz grabbed his arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have to catch that man.”
At that, Delroz’s expression twisted. He looked toward the direction Banteon indicated and shook his head.
“No.”
Delroz refused flatly.
“There are a lot of tall buildings in that direction. If anything happens, it’s too dangerous.”
“If my guess is right, this attack is his doing.”
“Don’t be reckless. If he’s really the culprit, that means he can control monsters. How do you expect to guarantee your safety?”
It was a valid point. Even if Banteon managed to catch Rohan, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to him.
But whether by coincidence or fortune’s grace, the strongest man on the continent happened to be right here. If Delroz stepped in, Rohan could be caught easily. And if the culprit was captured, the monsters could likely be subdued just as swiftly. Yet Delroz shook his head again, unwavering.
“There’s a good chance more monsters will appear beyond just the gargoyles. It feels the same as when I’ve approached a Gate.”
Delroz pulled Banteon’s arm, moving him behind his back.
“I can’t let you move until I’m sure you’re safe.”
“So you’re saying we should just let someone who might be the culprit go?”
“An airship is coming to pick us up. Until I get you on it, I’m not moving an inch.”
Banteon ground his foot into the ground in frustration. His suspicions about Rohan weren’t only about this monster attack. There were so many things that needed confirming—how Rohan had seen through his disguise, why no aura could be sensed from him.
If he let him slip away now, there was no telling when or if they’d ever cross paths again. But Delroz remained unmoved, indifferent to Banteon’s urgency.
“If we’re late, it might not arrive until dawn.”
It was still only 10 PM. If they just stood here waiting for the airship, Rohan would vanish from this place.
“Doesn’t matter. Isn’t a Guide’s safety supposed to come first?”
Banteon stared at Delroz, exasperated by his inflexibility. When had he ever cared so much about Center protocol that he’d become this stubborn?
Even as they argued, monsters continued to pour into the city. Members from the Center branch rushed out and joined the battle, but their numbers did little to stem the tide.
If Banteon had heard about this disaster while still in the capital, he probably would’ve dismissed it with a casual “That sounds serious.” He wasn’t the type to get worked up about strangers dying, to cry or ache with sorrow for people he didn’t know.
But what he saw now was unlike any battlefield he’d read about in reports. Up until now, Banteon’s understanding of war was limited to Espers clashing with one another.
The people who had just been laughing beside him, the couples dancing in the square, the old man nodding to the music—all were now running for their lives in a desperate panic.
He had never before seen helpless people collapse and die like paper dolls.
A child’s wailing echoed from a narrow alleyway in the distance. The kid had apparently lost their parents, curled up on the ground and sobbing. Banteon instinctively moved forward, but Delroz’s grip locked onto his arm.
Flames shot up around the child. And still, Delroz didn’t move a single step. He stood there as if whatever was happening around them had nothing to do with him.
“How can you be so cold?”
Amid the roar of chaos, Delroz’s golden eyes gleamed with a frigid light. The only person who might be able to stop this devastation was staring coolly at Banteon, his gaze unnervingly calm.
“Those people would’ve died here tonight anyway if I hadn’t been around. What’s the problem?”
Banteon’s lips tightened at those words.
He’d thought that, over time, he’d come to understand at least a little of Delroz’s personality. But the man standing before him now felt like a stranger. The reflection of the flames narrowed in Delroz’s pupils. His irises, unusually elongated, looked eerily unfamiliar.
Banteon instinctively stepped back. At his movement, filled with barely contained alarm, Delroz frowned and averted his gaze.
The man who had so easily ignored the screams of the dying now looked troubled by Banteon’s retreat.
And Banteon understood.
Just as someone with wealth and fame has no obligation to share it with others, someone with power has no inherent duty to act on others’ behalf. That’s the prerogative of the one who possesses it.
