A cloud of sand shot into the sky, blurring the line between heaven and earth in a world of ochre. In that haze, the two clashed. Skin, once impervious to any weapon, was ripped to shreds, blood bursting forth. Despite knowing they were destroying themselves, neither stopped.
Delroz moved, feeling an uncontrollable surge pounding violently from the depths of his heart. A familiar sign of berserk rage. He knew it would be dangerous to continue, yet his hands moved without hesitation, tearing at Rohan’s flesh.
They were in the heart of a barren desert. If Delroz lost control, the only one to die with him would be Rohan. Even as his mind blurred and his body rampaged at its limits, his gaze reached beyond the sandstorm—toward the ruins. There, Banteon and Tearot waited. He didn’t like the bastard, but he could at least grab Banteon and get away from here.
He just had to hold on until then. Just until then—cling to that threadbare sliver of sanity, and once Banteon was safe, he could die with Rohan.
At the moment he’d steeled himself to burn through his final breath, as if time had been devoured by the sweeping sand, both their movements stopped.
The sound of something sharp striking a solid wall rang out. A faint rupture echoed from afar, and Rohan’s face lost its calm.
“No.”
With a pale, stricken face, Rohan twisted his body. A gap opened—a weakness Delroz had never seen before—but Delroz couldn’t move. Rohan was headed toward Banteon. With Banteon’s temperament, of course he wouldn’t stay still. But even in this madness, he was putting himself in danger?
Just before Rohan could reach Banteon, Delroz saved him. But then only Delroz was left—a ticking time bomb. A lifeless Rohan, an exhausted relative barely able to move, and an SS-rank Esper on the verge of rampage. Among them, Banteon stood alone, proud and untouched.
He staggered forward toward Delroz, who was doing everything to resist. Delroz was soaked in blood, his wounds obscured by gore, his body caked in coarse sand—a pathetic sight he didn’t want Banteon, who detested disorder, to see. And yet, Banteon greeted him with a radiant smile unlike any he’d ever shown before, and threw himself at Delroz.
What followed was a blissful, peaceful hell.
“Hoo…”
The memory returned like a nightmare. Delroz’s head throbbed. He had no intention of telling Banteon about the existence of the imprint. Banteon treated him no differently even after learning he wasn’t human—but there was no need to remind him of that fact again.
While Delroz was lost in thought, moonlight poured over the sleeping form of Banteon. A long silver beam stretched through the window, glimmering as it fell over his one and only Guide. His face looked so peaceful, as if he’d never known hardship. Beneath that calm visage, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
It was the one moment that pulled Delroz back from the pit of his dread.
The emptiness and fear that plagued Delroz would never truly be soothed. As long as he lived, he would be trapped in endless thirst and restraint. But the moments with Banteon beside him felt like drifting through an oasis—brief, but enough.
Even this boring life could be endured, maybe even enjoyed, if he thought of it as simply resting by Banteon’s side. That thought alone eased the anxiety in his heart.
Half the night had already passed. He knew the moon would soon hide and the sun would rise to paint the world red—but even so, Delroz closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him.
In that fleeting moment between the setting full moon and the rising sun—even a brief rest like that was worth it.
***
The season had already passed into midsummer. A body once shivering at the slightest breeze now wilted under the weight of the sweltering sun.
“Shall I bring more ice?”
“Could you prepare another glass?”
“……”
As the attendant took the tray away, Delroz squinted one eye at him. Banteon, ignoring his displeasure, downed the cold ice water in one refreshing gulp.
Despite the luxury of expensive ice, he couldn’t understand why Delroz was so annoyed.
“Cold things aren’t good for your body.”
“Getting heatstroke’s worse. And I can handle this much now.”
“You’re tired all day.”
His stamina, once depleted in a blink, had somewhat recovered. He no longer collapsed from short walks, and his hands and feet didn’t go cold after long hours of work. Still, the oppressive heat drained his strength. Even with the cooling system running twenty-four hours a day, there was no stopping his energy from fading.
“Everyone gets tired in this weather.”
“I’m fine.”
Delroz crossed his arms, brazen as ever.
“…Does anyone exist who’s actually healthier than you?”
“Most people are weak, but you’re the most fragile of them all. You look weaker than a newborn kitten.”
Banteon, eyeing the man who made no sense at all, waved to dismiss the attendant. Delroz had always been head over heels, but this wasn’t the kind of thing to show in front of others.
“A grown man, and you call him a kitten…”
“If it bothers you, just get as healthy as me.”
“Easy for you to say. Whatever. Just lower the temperature a bit.”
“You’ll catch a cold.”
Seeing that Delroz had no intention of relenting, Banteon sighed. Still, it wasn’t unbearable. Maybe a compromise was in order.
Muttering quietly about how much he’d softened, how he was now the type to endure discomfort just to accommodate someone else, Banteon flipped to the next page of the document.
He read a few lines of the new report, and then, even while working, his bickering with Delroz came to a sudden halt.
“Hmm…”
The report came from the excavation team working on the desert ruins at the continent’s center. The kingdom had dispatched a large-scale investigation, claiming it was in search of the bodies of Rohan and Tearot, whose remains had never been recovered. Even though the area had already been devastated by an explosion, the Esrante family had also sent support personnel, in case any traces remained.
“This is actually pretty interesting.”
As expected, there was no sign of Rohan or Tearot. However, because the team had expanded their investigation range, they made a new discovery deeper beneath the destroyed ruins.
“Delroz, it’s hot—should we take a summer vacation?”
“To where?”
Banteon closed the report and stood up, brushing aside the lap blanket Delroz had draped over his knees, saying the air conditioning was too cold.
“The desert.”
“…What?”
“This year’s summer vacation is going to be in the desert.”
Banteon laughed as he pressed down on the furrow between Delroz’s brows, which had drawn tight in irritation.
Once the plan was made, the preparations moved quickly. Clothing and equipment suited for the desert, safety gear, and cooling magic stones were all loaded into a single vehicle before departure. Last time, Delroz had lost consciousness and awakened in the desert, so he hadn’t realized—but it took a full three days of driving from the capital to reach the sands.
“It’s my second time here, but it feels new. I guess I didn’t have time to take in the sights before.”
It was his first time leisurely observing the desert. While Banteon gazed around, lost in thought, Delroz simply stood beside him with arms crossed and a sullen expression.
“Looking at it like this, it’s quite the view.”
“Not at all.”
Delroz gave a curt reply, cursing inwardly. Standing in the center of a landscape that haunted his nightmares, and with Banteon no less, there was no way he could enjoy this. He merely stayed closer than usual, ready to protect him.
“Lord Banteon. Please, allow me to guide you inside.”
A middle-aged man who introduced himself as the excavation team leader led them into the inner ruins. They descended into the deeply carved site. The area, deformed by a massive explosion, looked nothing like what Banteon remembered.
The blood-soaked stone walls, the frozen shard where his Guide had once been sealed—not a single trace remained. Banteon descended even deeper than he had the last time, a bitter feeling welling up inside him without explanation.
“It seems the ruins you mentioned were completely destroyed in that blast, my lord. However, in return, we discovered something even greater.”
“I read the report. It was surprising.”
“Isn’t it? We were astonished too. An ancient civilization predating the emergence of written language—it’s the stuff of legend.”
By the time Rohan was born, both language and civilization had already flourished. The continent’s central capital had been destroyed in an explosion, turning the land into desert. The people who survived on the outskirts had built a new nation—that was the current kingdom.
Thanks to the surviving records from that time, the existence of the first Esper and their history had been passed down. But what they had now discovered predated even that—an oral tradition handed down like myth, now made real.
“Luckily, since the desert formed above it, much of the ruins were preserved, buried under sand. They used murals instead of writing. We’re in the process of interpreting them.”
“How far along is the interpretation?”
“The illustrations aren’t particularly difficult, so interpretation is progressing quickly. However, there is one section we’re stuck on. Would you like to see it?”
The mural stretched across a massive stone wall, over three meters tall. On one side, investigators were taking rubbings, trying to decipher the faded details worn down by centuries of wind and sand.
“This section here has been fully interpreted.”
Banteon scanned the replica mural indifferently. It depicted scenes from the daily lives of the ancients—understandable even without interpretation. Disappointed by the mundane content, he turned to leave—when a rubbing laid out on the adjacent table caught his eye.
“Ah, that one’s still being analyzed. There’s some content we just can’t decipher.”
“May I take a look?”
Banteon examined the long sheet of rubbing closely. Unlike the previous scenes, this one depicted creatures that were clearly not human—hulking beasts with long fur, grotesque forms that looked like a blend of various animals.
“We suspect these creatures might be the origin of monsters.”
“That might be… but they’re with people.”
Next to the beast stood a regular human figure, drawn clearly and directly.
“Well, you never know. Maybe in ancient times, humanity lived peacefully with monsters. There’s absolutely nothing left of that civilization, so anything’s possible. If you look at this mural here, it even seems like the human is calming the creature down.”
Banteon picked up a new rubbing the investigator handed him. Just as he said, the image showed a person gently touching the monster, as if pacifying it.
