“Not long ago, a subjugation squad was formed—you heard about that, right?”
“Yeah. I heard about that pathetic incident where Espers were summoned just to deal with a single mercenary group.”
“What if the goal wasn’t simply to eliminate the mercenaries?”
In territories where monsters occasionally appeared, lords often hired mercenaries to guard the walls. One such story came to mind—a fertile grain-producing region that had spent a fortune to bring in a renowned mercenary company.
Espers affiliated with the Royal Esper Center underwent rigorous training and were deployed for large-scale monster subjugations or dungeon management. Smaller conflict zones, on the other hand, were typically dealt with by throwing expendable mercenaries at them. So, hiring mercenaries privately wasn’t exactly unusual.
But this mercenary group had gotten into a serious dispute with their employer. It had escalated beyond disobedience—one of them had murdered the guard captain. A territory’s guard captain was at least of quasi-noble status. That alone gave the Center ample justification to intervene.
“Is all this fuss really over just a few mercenaries? What, did they start a rebellion or something?”
“Not a rebellion, exactly. The issue lies with the mercenary commander. Apparently, he dueled the guard captain one-on-one.”
“A mercenary… in a duel? That’s beyond ridiculous.”
A duel, with a mercenary who had no honor to speak of? It made no sense. Banteon, who was born a noble to his very bones, gave a dry laugh.
“It’s no laughing matter. The guard captain who died was a D-rank Esper.”
Tearot’s next words were not something he could just brush off. The hand holding his teacup froze midair.
An ordinary person cannot defeat an Esper.
That was a premise as immutable as gravity. Even an F-rank Esper had twice the physical strength of a normal human. If this mercenary commander had won against a trained D-rank Esper in single combat, then he was most likely an Esper himself. No—definitely.
“A commoner Esper…”
Everyone, even children, knew that Esper abilities were hereditary. There were a few recorded cases of commoner Espers, but most turned out to be illegitimate offspring of nobles. Nobles who placed a high value on bloodlines frequently sired children outside their marriages to expand their influence.
Still, there were rare exceptions.
On exceedingly rare occasions, a true Esper would manifest with not a single drop of noble blood.
Espers born out of wedlock were so common one could hardly count them on both hands, but the latter case—true commoners—was something else entirely.
“You don’t mean he’s a naturally occurring Esper?”
“You catch on quick.”
At Tearot’s crisp confirmation, Banteon’s brow furrowed.
“No wonder they were being so dramatic about the recruitment.”
“As they should be. Two A-ranks from the elite squad were injured, and five B-ranks are hospitalized.”
Tearot went on to explain that one was in critical condition. Banteon slowly stroked his chin. Considering they’d fought a naturally occurring Esper, those injuries were relatively minor. The Center must have prepared thoroughly.
Since no further updates had been heard, they’d likely succeeded in capturing the natural Esper and would soon bring him to the Center for training…
“Looks like things are going to get noisy for a while.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What else is there? Sure, some people got hurt, but they caught him in the end. He’ll go through the usual training and probably be awarded a noble house.”
A naturally occurring Esper—the first in 300 years. It was obvious he’d become the center of all sorts of rumors and attention. For a while, factions within the Center would be scrambling to position themselves, but to Banteon, it was all irrelevant.
Over the course of history, several naturally occurring Espers had appeared and founded new noble houses, but none had ever posed a threat to House Esrante.
With the conversation winding down, Banteon stood to leave. Tearot, now sounding urgent, called out to stop him.
“Wait a second. Think this through again. This isn’t the time to be so carefree. Once the testing’s done, he’ll be brought into the Center—and that’s when you need to be cautious.”
“What do I have to be cautious about? It’s not like he has anything to do with House Esrante.”
“That may be true for the House. But not for you.”
At the cryptic remark, Banteon tilted his head. Tearot clutched his chest and declared:
“You’re the most appetizing among the remaining Guides at the Center. Of course you’ll be picked for the first compatibility test!”
The vulgar phrasing made Banteon’s mouth stiffen. Crude as it was, it got the point across with brutal clarity.
Among the Guides currently without a contracted Esper, Banteon was from the most prestigious lineage. Naturally, people’s attention would gravitate toward him, and those hoping to curry favor would try to arrange test matches with him first.
A mercenary commander and a commoner Esper… While contemplating a few conditions, Banteon replied indifferently.
“I’ll just refuse.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
“If he’s a mercenary, then he’s probably old and brutish. I’ll pass.”
“I know your type is the cute and youthful kind. But still, we’re talking about a natural Esper here.”
“I’m not interested in things like that. I can live just fine without.”
“…You’re not wrong, but god, you’re insufferable.”
Banteon stared at Tearot, who was whining like a petulant child, with thinly veiled pity. Yes, this newcomer was intriguing. But with Banteon’s house already at the peak of power, there was no reason to gamble.
“Ambitious fools will throw themselves at him, but I won’t even make it to the front of the line.”
“Maybe so…”
“Cut it out with the pointless hypotheticals.”
“Then why do I still have this bad feeling…”
Tearot remained unconvinced, even when presented with objective facts. He had a sharp intuition, fitting for an Esper—but this time, he was wrong. Banteon lightly patted the back of the man needlessly worrying over something that would never happen.
“Done talking? It’s almost time for class.”
From Keslan, who had come wagging his tail, to the noisy observers loitering about—there were too many variables today. At least Keslan was cute; Tearot was just creepy and completely useless.
Acknowledging the merit of having brought an interesting story, Banteon refrained from kicking him out and instead simply waved a hand, signaling him to leave.
“Off you go.”
“I’m going, I’m going. Seriously. If you weren’t from Esrante, how would you even survive with that personality…”
“You’re one to talk. You’re living off your bloodline too.”
“Tch.”
Tearot, who was from a branch of the Esrante family, clicked his tongue briefly. Since he’d awakened as an A-rank Esper thanks to his fine lineage, he couldn’t exactly argue with that.
He grumbled like a child who didn’t want to leave and eventually dragged his heavy steps out of the study.
Banteon let out a soft chuckle at the sight. As annoying as Tearot could be, he did have a somewhat endearing side to him. If not for that massive frame—half a head taller than Banteon—he might have been fun to keep around. But Banteon had no interest in men bigger than himself.
‘A naturally occurring Esper, huh…’
It was an existence he’d never even thought about. Though he had brushed it off lightly in conversation, he knew better than anyone that it was no small matter. A complex map of factional dynamics unfolded in his mind. A few foolish contenders who might covet the new Esper came to mind, as did several highly plausible scenarios.
“I just hope he passes quietly.”
He hoped the man would be content with a modest position and know his place. Banteon finished wrapping up his thoroughly disorganized schedule and tidied his desk. He entered the code to lock the drawer containing his personal academic materials and returned the study to the state it was in when he first entered.
Gathering the materials he needed for class, he put his glasses back on—he’d taken them off for a bit. The once-chaotic room now appeared perfectly neat and orderly.
‘Stay composed. Maintain consistency at all times.’
That was the first thing a noble ever learned. Though he toyed with immature Espers and sought idle amusement here and there, the discipline instilled in him since birth never wavered.
***
“Good morning, Teacher!”
“You’re looking great today!”
“Wait, wait—I’m not late!”
As soon as he stepped into the lecture hall, a flurry of chatter greeted him. These were students in the advanced course, likely in their late teens, yet they acted like eight-year-olds.
“Take your seats. Open your textbooks.”
“Ehhh…”
The answer came back in a vague, lifeless tone. This was when they were at their most adorable—when they pouted like that. Banteon began organizing the materials and glanced around the room as usual, but something seemed off. The normally packed classroom had gaps here and there, like a mouth missing teeth.
“Where is everyone?”
“A bunch of kids had visitors today.”
“They submitted absence requests.”
The responses came back like a chorus of baby chicks. Banteon opened the attendance sheet tucked beneath the lectern. Just as they said, many students were absent due to visitation. And most of the ones missing were Guides.
“Everything’s going wild right now.”
“……”
“Teacher! You’ve got wrinkles on your forehead!”
His daily routine was already unraveling thanks to someone who hadn’t even arrived at the Center yet. A bad omen. The rumors of a naturally occurring Esper had clearly stirred the sponsors of these Guides into action.
Of course—so they could pair their precious Guide with the new Esper.
‘Like breeding horses…’
An unprecedented, high-quality stud, and with no owner to boot. The noisy future lay plainly ahead.
“Teacher, can you tell us about naturally occurring Espers?”
“We covered that at the beginning of the term.”
“I don’t remember! Teach us more in detail!”
If only they showed this much academic enthusiasm all the time. Their faces, usually dull as they flipped through textbooks, now gleamed with curiosity.
