Tearot leaned in and whispered softly into Banteon’s ear.
“How’s his energy looking right now?”
Tearot was the only one at the Center who knew that Banteon could actually see another person’s energy. Banteon answered his cautious question with a curt, irritable whisper.
“How the hell would I know from this distance?”
“I dunno. I’ve never seen it myself. Can’t you do it remotely?”
“This ability isn’t a damn telescope… You should be able to sense it too, right?”
“I’ve never even felt anything remotely like that guy’s energy before.”
Banteon’s eyes widened at the unexpected response.
Banteon had the unique ability to see others’ energy. It appeared to him like a shimmering haze, almost like a mirage given form.
That didn’t mean others were completely oblivious to the energy around them. Espers could instinctively gauge each other’s power levels—it was like an animal’s sixth sense.
Tearot, though not on Banteon’s level, was particularly sensitive. So the fact that he had never once sensed anything from that guy? No matter how powerful he was, there was no way someone could grow that fast.
“What?”
“I’m not the only one. Other people too…”
“What kind of fun little conversation are you having behind someone’s back?”
Delroz had approached without a sound and now stood directly in front of the two. Only then did Banteon clearly see the expression that had supposedly been a smile.
Stupid Tearot. That wasn’t a smile—he was figuring out how to break someone.
Facing Delroz’s murderous stare, Banteon answered flatly.
“It’s a private conversation.”
“You say that while looking at someone like that?”
“Must be your imagination.”
Sometimes, outright denial was more effective than a flimsy excuse. When Banteon replied with calculated indifference, one of Delroz’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“That’s how you’re going to put it…? Well, let’s go with that.”
His patronizing leniency rubbed Banteon the wrong way. Why the hell was this guy handing out mercy like he owned the place—especially when he was the one who walked up uninvited? Sure, Banteon had been talking about him, but it wasn’t like no one else had been doing the same.
Delroz just liked picking fights with the one furthest away from the crowd.
Tearot, standing beside him, jabbed Banteon’s side repeatedly with his elbow.
Despite how annoying this was, Banteon realized it was a good chance to observe Delroz. He quickly focused on the energy swirling around him.
Contrary to Tearot’s claim of feeling nothing, Banteon could see it clearly.
‘Just as I thought.’
The aura looked almost exactly like it had back in the tent. It still hovered ominously around Delroz, as if he still hadn’t found a matching Guide. The fact that Tearot couldn’t feel this was borderline bizarre.
After scanning long enough, Banteon gave Tearot a slight nod.
Realizing Banteon was done, Tearot spoke up.
“If you don’t have any business with us, please move along.”
“Oh, right. You were here too.”
Delroz responded dismissively, as if he had just now noticed Tearot’s existence. It was blatantly intentional.
Anyone else would’ve taken offense at that, but Tearot didn’t flinch. Arms crossed, he calmly stared back.
“We weren’t finished talking.”
“Didn’t sound like a particularly nutritious conversation.”
He made no attempt to hide the fact he’d been eavesdropping.
Banteon quickly replayed their exchange in his head. Thankfully, there hadn’t been anything incriminating.
If Delroz could hear them from that distance, it looked like they’d have to rely on their comm devices for all private conversations from now on.
What a creepily inconvenient bastard.
Tearot, seemingly irritated by that comment, began lightly tapping his arm with his fingers, arms still folded.
“It’s not like having sharp ears is rare for Espers, but did you really need to make it so obvious you were listening?”
“Can’t help what I hear.”
“There’s still such a thing as unspoken rules. You think I’m standing here quietly because I didn’t hear anything?”
For the first time, Delroz examined Tearot’s face carefully.
“Ahh… now I remember. You’re that weirdo Esper.”
“…”
“The one who refuses to match with a Guide even though you could easily rank up to S-Class. Still sticking around in A-Class wagging your tail, huh?”
“Watch your mouth.”
Tearot’s voice dropped low. Delroz’s gaze flicked briefly to Banteon, then back to Tearot.
“Picked the wrong master, didn’t you? Doesn’t seem like he has any intention of holding your leash.”
“You—”
“Never really got how you can fawn over someone who’s got the exact same equipment as you.”
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Banteon stepped in front of Tearot, cutting him off before he could explode.
“We’re relatives. Tearot and I. I’d appreciate it if you stopped making assumptions.”
“Oh… relatives?”
For some reason, even after the clarification, Delroz’s smile only deepened. It was a look that seemed to mock Tearot outright.
Banteon could feel the tension in Tearot’s clenched fist beside him. After teasing him for being a fool so many times, maybe he really had turned into one. What did he think he was going to accomplish by flexing in front of an SS-rank?
Banteon lightly tapped Tearot’s forearm with his fingertips. Some of the tension drained from him, and his raised eyebrows slowly relaxed. With the provocation averted, Tearot returned to his usual slick demeanor.
“Doesn’t look like either of us has a master holding our leash, huh?”
“Yeah, well, there’s a big difference between a stray and a mutt that puts the collar on itself and wags its tail.”
“So you must be real satisfied with how things are going, huh?”
The air between them grew heavy again. Despite their composed expressions, their eyes locked with a mutual intent to kill, and Banteon stood there like a dumb sack of straw.
He should really step in and stop them. But the longer the conversation dragged on, the more it turned into something he really didn’t want to be part of. Arms crossed, he watched the two beasts growl at each other.
Delroz seemed completely absorbed in his pissing contest with Tearot, which might’ve been Banteon’s chance. If he could make contact under the pretense of breaking things up—just enough to see if guiding was possible—he could reach his goal.
But that bastard was sharp. He wouldn’t miss even the briefest attempt at guiding. It’d have to be in battle or while he was asleep… But was it even possible to get close to him while he was sleeping?
Banteon suddenly found himself facing a more basic problem. Staying close to observe had seemed like a good plan, but how the hell was he supposed to test this?
Only now did he fully realize the major obstacle: he needed to figure out if guiding Delroz was even feasible without getting caught. His brows knit together before he noticed.
Goddamn it. How had he missed something so obvious? It was like stupidity was contagious from standing next to Tearot.
With a deep sigh, he let out a bitter smile.
He needed to pull Tearot out of this pointless scuffle and figure out a way to make contact. Banteon opened his mouth to speak—
BOOM!
A massive sandstorm erupted in the distance with a deafening roar.
“Sandworm!”
“Combat formation! Non-combatants to the rear!”
Sotenru’s voice rang out across the area from his vantage point. The sandworm had felt the vibrations and burst through the ground. Its monstrous body, the size of a five-story building, was clearly visible even from afar.
“Combat Unit One, assemble!”
“…Great. Just what I needed.”
Delroz was part of Unit One. Clicking his tongue, he cast a quick glance at Banteon and Tearot, then turned away with a reluctant expression. His figure, just moments ago directly in front of them, quickly receded into the distance. He moved toward the sandworm without hesitation.
Other combat personnel fell in behind him in a practiced formation.
“Let’s see what he’s got,” Tearot said, watching casually.
Sandworms were demonic beasts native to deserts. Even if this mining site was in a low-lying area near a desert, it was still shocking to see one appear this far in.
“What’s a sandworm doing here?”
“That’s why it’s called a dungeon. With the monster gate wide open, anything can crawl out. Someone said they even spotted a siren last month.”
If sea monsters were showing up, then all logic was out the window.
He’d seen them in books before, but this was the first time he was facing one in real life. It was bigger—and more grotesque—than he’d imagined. His face involuntarily twisted in disgust.
“How strong are sandworms?”
“Well, they don’t have poison, and they’re melee types, so they’re not that powerful… But their shells are tough as hell. Real pain to crack.”
“So the casualties should be low, right?”
“Not necessarily. More people die from being crushed when the ground collapses than from the worm itself. Once it shows up, you have to abandon the camp. Especially here—the soil’s full of gravel. You’re just as likely to get hit by flying rocks.”
Banteon glanced over at the makeshift shade and temporary camp they had just finished setting up. It would probably be a wreck soon. The thought made his mouth go dry.
Nearby, others stood frozen, scanning their surroundings carefully.
“Should we move over there?”
“Better not. Sandworms track by footsteps.”
Ah, so that’s why everyone had stopped in such awkward spots.
Banteon stayed put and turned his gaze toward Unit One. As the sandworm tore through the earth, the ground bulged like a mole tunnel and great clouds of dust billowed up.
The air quickly turned so murky it was hard to make out even silhouettes. Tearot lifted one hand to shield Banteon’s eyes.
“Dust’s flying.”
“Delroz fighting well?”
“Hmm… his control’s kinda sloppy…”
Though Tearot’s face was unreadable, his voice carried a tinge of disappointment.
