Did the monster ever truly care for the boy? No, he didn’t. Not once did he grant the boy what he truly desired. He simply indulged himself bit by bit, savoring the boy like a cherished cookie—nibbling just enough for his own convenience.
On the day the monster was preparing to leave the palace once again in search of a replacement for the boy, the boy came to him with a request.
“Take me with you this time.”
“You’ll just get in the way.”
“Just once. Let me come just once. That’s all I ask.”
Who would bring along a fragile candy that looked like it would melt at the slightest touch of water? The monster coldly refused the boy’s plea. Watching the boy’s slumped shoulders droop almost to the ground as he turned away, the monster left the palace without a trace of regret.
That outing turned out to be fruitful. He found more humans than usual who caught his interest, and in high spirits, he ventured farther than he typically would.
He was on his way back to the kingdom, pulling a carriage filled with humans, when an acrid stench of smoke suddenly assaulted his nose. The smell came from the direction of his city.
The monster bolted. The forest blurred past him like unraveling threads, and just as he thought the unmoving moon seemed to draw closer, the burning city came into view, ablaze in crimson flames. While he had been away, humans from outside the monster’s kingdom had taken advantage of his absence and launched an assault.
No—this can’t be happening. The monster ran, desperate to find the boy. He had to find him—now.
Tearing through the shattered remains of the castle walls, the monster searched frantically for his treasure. He flung aside blackened marble and shattered remnants of the throne, his mouth falling open.
“……!”
But no sound emerged from the monster’s wide-open mouth. Even when he tried to call out for the boy, he couldn’t. He didn’t even know the boy’s name.
“It’s the monster!”
“Kill it! That’s the monster that eats people!”
With his own hands, the monster crushed the intruders who weren’t even worthy of being called threats, breaking their limbs one by one. He demanded to know the boy’s whereabouts. Those who didn’t answer died. Hundreds fell before the last surviving invader finally revealed the boy’s location.
But by then, it was already too late. The boy had been targeted for being the monster’s companion and was grievously wounded.
When the monster found him, broken and barely alive, hiding inside the fireplace, he could say nothing.
Could this even be called living? The boy’s body was so badly mangled that the monster didn’t dare touch him. For the first time in his existence, a cold fear washed over him, turning his insides white. Was it fear of being left behind in eternal agony? Or was it…
“……Why did you come so late?”
“…….”
The boy’s voice was so cracked and faint it was hard to make out the words.
“You do have expressions after all, Your Majesty.”
“Healing… No, that’s…”
How was he supposed to find a healer in a city already burned to ashes? And even if he could, would it save the boy? The monster stood there like a statue, helpless, staring at the boy’s body that looked like it would crumble at a touch. The boy looked up at the monster and smiled. His chin trembled violently as he barely managed to lift the corners of his mouth.
“In my next life… I want to be born better looking. So you can’t make fun of me for being ugly.”
“…….”
“This is when you’re supposed to say I look fine now.”
The monster had never learned how to comfort a person. He had spent so long without understanding even what his own emotions were—whether this was fear, sorrow, or something else entirely.
“You…”
To keep the boy from closing his eyes, the monster opened his mouth and asked a different question.
“What’s your name?”
“…Ha… Ha… ha…”
The boy wanted to scold him—Now you ask? Isn’t it a little too late? But there wasn’t time. The sensation had long since vanished from his entire body. The once-violent throbbing of his heart was slowly fading. After being ignored for so long, he finally spoke his name.
“My name is Ro…han. A nobody like me… doesn’t really suit you, huh?”
“…No.”
Though awkward, the monster added the words of comfort just as the boy had wished, and the boy let out a breathy, deflated sound and smiled.
“I’m so sleepy now…”
“Don’t close your eyes. Just a little more… hang on just a little longer.”
It had always been the boy who pleaded with the monster. Was this the punishment for never granting even one of those wishes? The boy, unmoved by the monster’s begging, slowly closed his eyes. Black ash drifted down over his dried blood and pale face. Only then did the monster gently stroke the boy’s face. The fragile life was slowly slipping away. The faint beating of his heart continued to weaken.
It wasn’t too late—not yet.
He had to preserve the boy’s time, even for a little while longer. The monster released his power. He knew if it touched the boy, it would extinguish the last ember of life left in him, so instead, he poured it all out into the world.
From his incinerated city to the surrounding mountains, to the great river and forests—he set everything ablaze, leaving nothing behind. The lavish marble columns, the jewels he had once gifted the boy—everything turned to dust and blew away in the wind as his power consumed it all.
Only once he was truly empty-handed could the monster finally touch the boy with a normal, unenchanted hand.
That’s when he finally understood—what he had feared wasn’t the agony of being left behind alone after the boy died. It was losing this child. It was the unbearable terror of a future where he’d never again see that round-eyed boy puff up his cheeks in protest when teased for being ugly.
With the last of his life force, the monster stopped time for both himself and the boy.
Thus, the once-bustling central continent turned to sand, becoming a vast resting place for the monster and his Guide.
***
Cough, cough.
“Here, drink some water.”
Banteon slapped away the water bottle offered in front of him. The clear container hit the ground, spilling its precious contents as it rolled away across the floor. He glared at Tearot, who looked at him with a pitiful expression.
“Don’t pretend to care all of a sudden.”
“Don’t do this. Your body won’t hold out.”
The capital where the Royal Esper Center was located was deep in the grip of winter, cold winds cutting through the air. But where Banteon was now—the middle of a scorching desert—he was sweating under the relentless heat. He picked up his discarded jacket and wiped the sweat from his brow. Before him stretched an endless ocean of sand.
A golden tide rolled on endlessly toward the horizon. Banteon squinted against the blazing sun, his gaze fixed on the shimmering desert. There was no telling why there was a half-collapsed temple-like structure in the center of the desert, but he sat, leaning against the shade of its crumbling ruins.
The last voice he remembered before losing consciousness echoed in his mind. Rohan’s words after escaping from prison, and Tearot’s reply. It was still hard to believe that the Royal Center’s informant—the traitor—was Tearot himself.
“What the hell are you thinking?”
Banteon’s scornful question was met with Tearot’s eyes narrowing into a smile. A brazen grin, devoid of the slightest hint of shame. It was a face utterly different from the Tearot Banteon had known until now.
“This isn’t like you.”
“And what is like me, exactly?”
Tearot bent down toward where Banteon sat, sweeping back hair tossed by the desert wind.
“Bante. Rohan said he’s going to bring down the kingdom. Wipe out the royal family and the nobles. Create a new world.”
Banteon looked up. He already knew Rohan harbored deep resentment toward the current monarchy, but there was no reason for Tearot to side with him. Tearot, too, had grown up enjoying the privileges of the current system—a noble through and through.
“In this new world, no one will condemn us.”
“What?”
“So just wait a little longer.”
“You’re insane.”
Their plan was to destroy the entire kingdom just to abolish the law forbidding Guiding between blood relatives. The sheer madness of it made Banteon curse under his breath.
Even as he scowled at Tearot with disgust, the man smiled as if he couldn’t hear a word.
Banteon wiped away the sweat slicking his skin and irritably tossed his tattered jacket at Tearot. Tearot caught it with ease and calmly draped it over the pillar Banteon was leaning against, creating a patch of shade. The gesture, no matter how considerate, earned no gratitude.
His head spun—both from the brutal heat and from the sheer absurdity of everything happening. He didn’t want to look at Tearot’s twisted face any longer. The gritty sand brushing against his skin was just another irritation. He turned his head away and closed his eyes.
……
By now, the Center must have realized Banteon had been kidnapped. They would have discovered Rohan’s escape, too. Then what would the kingdom do in response? How long would it take for them to organize a rescue team? And then…
What about Delroz?
Even with his eyes shut, the suffocating heat made him picture a single face. He had definitely missed the time he’d promised to meet Delroz.
If he were taken away like this, that last meeting would’ve been their final one. Of all people, why was he the one popping into Banteon’s head at a time like this? Like a thorn that never worked its way out, Delroz had wedged himself so deep that Banteon couldn’t pull him free anymore.
Delroz would come for him. Banteon knew it. Delroz still had feelings for him. Even when he’d promised they’d go back to a strictly professional relationship, Banteon hadn’t missed the way Delroz’s eyes had never stopped following him.
If I’d known it would end like this… maybe I should’ve treated him better.
Even as he told himself regret always came too late, the thought lingered in his mind.
A shadow fell over his closed eyes. A burning warmth, hotter than the desert itself, touched his sun-heated cheek.
“……!”
When he opened his eyes, all he could see was Tearot’s arm reaching toward him. Startled by the gesture of brushing his cheek, he slapped the arm away.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Want to lean on me?”
“Don’t touch me without permission. It’s disgusting.”
