“With that much of a power gap, who needs control? He’s just smashing everything to bits.”
“Looks like it’ll be over soon.”
“Whoa, did he just crack a Sandworm shell in one blow? That thing exploded!”
It was a relief they couldn’t see what was happening. Watching something that looked like a massive earthworm burst open wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight. Banteon clicked his tongue quietly.
The way he dealt with monsters was as brutal and savage as ever—unmistakably his style.
Through the haze of dust clouding their vision, the silhouette of the largest Sandworm collapsing came into view.
“Looks like he’s almost finished.”
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, there were six when they showed up. Let’s see… one, two… three…”
Tearot, who had been counting the corpses with his finger, suddenly stopped. His expression twisted strangely, and a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
“What? Is something wro—”
“Watch out!”
A powerful force yanked hard at his waist. In an instant, his body was lifted off the ground, and the earth shrank away in his field of vision. Tearot had scooped Banteon up and leapt high into the air.
It wasn’t until a stray chunk of gravel grazed his cheek that Banteon could register what was happening. Below, at the exact spot where he’d been standing, a juvenile Sandworm twisted its grotesque body, its gaping mouth filled with rows of writhing teeth.
His shoulders recoiled from a gut-deep sense of disgust.
“Ugh…”
“Cover your face.”
It must have been a pretty hefty rock—he felt a warm liquid trickle down his cheek. When he wiped it with his hand, it came away stained red. But it didn’t hurt, so the wound couldn’t have been too deep.
Not that there was time to feel pain. The Sandworm, despite its bulky form, moved with eerie agility and twisted to face them. As Banteon met its gaze, its maw—easily the size of a human torso—opened wide, pitch black inside.
Tearot’s face darkened. It was just a young Sandworm. Nothing he couldn’t handle on his own, even if it took a little time.
He looked down at Banteon, still held in his arms. That half-masked face looked paler than usual.
Taking down the Sandworm while still carrying Banteon like this was going to be difficult. But putting him down somewhere “safe” was just as risky—the Sandworm’s speed wasn’t something to underestimate.
And if there was even one more hidden monster, there was no way he could leave Banteon alone.
Would they have to wait for reinforcements? Gritting his teeth, Tearot cursed the standstill he was caught in.
At that moment, light burst into view. It pierced through the dust swirling around them like a dying sunset. The colossal armor plating of the Sandworm that had blocked the light was split clean in two, shattering to the ground with a deafening crash.
“You’re a damn distraction…”
Delroz emerged through the backlight. His once-pristine uniform was soaked in vivid crimson, and damp black hair clung to his cheek.
He rolled up his sleeves and tore off his now-bloodied gloves with a rough motion. The soggy fabric slapped wetly against the ground.
Yet even as he did this, his gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Banteon. More specifically, the small scrape between his mask and hat—he stared at it like it was the only thing in the world.
That stare stung more than the actual cut from the gravel. Uncomfortable under the weight of it, Banteon averted his eyes. He slid out of Tearot’s arms and planted both feet on the ground. But as the earth swayed beneath him, he instinctively grabbed onto Tearot’s arm again.
“Can’t even take my eyes off you for one second…”
“…”
“If you’d just stayed with the others, this wouldn’t have happened. But no, you had to wander off for a little chat, and now look at you.”
“Thank you for saving me.”
He at least offered that much. Regardless of Delroz’s foul attitude, he had helped. Tearot might have been able to hold his own, but Delroz’s intervention had undoubtedly prevented things from getting worse.
“But the conversation we were having was a personal matter. And we didn’t step outside the safe zone, so I don’t think you have any right to lecture us.”
They had been on the outer edge of camp, but still well within the designated safety range. No one could have predicted a Sandworm would appear there—and Banteon had no reason to be scolded for it. If anything, he was the one who had suffered the most because of it.
“…”
Delroz stared at Banteon with a visibly sour expression. His eyes lingered especially on the arm still holding onto Tearot.
“A grown man, being carried around like some damsel…”
He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed.
“If you can’t even protect yourself, maybe you shouldn’t be tagging along to places like this.”
“That’s going too far.”
“Oh? Am I wrong? You were just running around like a coward with your precious little Guide in tow.”
Tearot, who had remained silent until now, exploded in fury. Even the respectful tone he usually used vanished. He stepped forward, glaring at Delroz with eyes burning in anger.
“You think everyone’s like you? A Guide could die just from brushing against a Sandworm.”
“Then maybe kill the damn thing faster. You could’ve handled it alone, so why cling to him like a lifeline?”
“Protecting a Guide is the top priority of any Esper. If you don’t know that, then you’ve got no business receiving Guidance.”
“Funny. Didn’t seem like he needed any protecting—was real eager to guide someone, actually. Not like some people.”
What a jackass. That was the first thing that came to mind. Delroz probably had Guides lining up just for the chance to guide him. Even if he didn’t protect them, there would still be more than enough people willing to stick around.
Tearot’s face flushed with anger, then paled again. Insulting a Guide was the kind of thing Espers found hardest to tolerate.
“You. Someday, you’re going to regret this—big time.”
“You’re quite the dreamer.”
“Don’t take Guides lightly.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
“Tearot. Enough.”
There was nothing to be gained by exchanging more words with someone like him. At Banteon’s firm intervention, the two froze. Tearot clicked his tongue softly and took a step back. Delroz’s eyes returned to Banteon. Slowly, his hand began to move.
That large hand rose without hesitation, brushing lightly against the side of Banteon’s cheek. The touch was gentle—almost like a caress. Banteon’s body stiffened before he could even react to the sudden contact.
“……”
What was he thinking? His heart pounded in shock, and he didn’t even manage to voice the question. Delroz withdrew his hand, turned around naturally, as if nothing had happened.
“Go get treated.”
That was the end of it. Just like that, he walked away—just as abruptly as he’d shown up. The two of them stared, dumbfounded, at his retreating back. When Delroz had finally disappeared from view, Tearot tapped Banteon’s arm. As their eyes met, Tearot quickly began typing on his communicator.
Banteon’s own device vibrated. It was a private message.
[Bante. What the hell’s with him? You think he figured it out?]
A reasonable suspicion. Even Banteon himself had a flicker of could it be? in the back of his mind. That behavior was unlike Delroz in every way. But there were too many things that didn’t add up.
[I don’t think so.]
[Right? If he thought you were that Guide, there’s no way he’d be so dismissive about Guides.]
No matter how much of an asshole he was, there was no way he’d act that brazenly in front of his own Guide. And if Delroz had actually suspected Banteon was that Guide, he wouldn’t have let him off so easily.
But the question still lingered, stuck right where it had started.
[Then what’s his deal?]
[Beats me.]
[Is he losing his damn mind? He’s gonna make me lose it.]
[Think I’d know?]
Banteon was the one who wanted the answer more than anyone.
***
Thanks to the capable efforts of a certain SS-Rank, they were able to spend the night safely at the campsite. Unlike the permanent Subjugation Squad base, this was a temporary site with nothing but sleeping bags and a campfire set up in an open space.
Banteon moved toward a quiet corner. After checking that no one was nearby, he pulled a magic stone out of his pocket. Activating a sound barrier to keep anyone from overhearing, he watched as Tearot whistled in admiration.
“Only you would casually use something that rare.”
“No time for pointless chatter. It’s temporary, so it won’t last long.”
“Right. So the problem is how we’re gonna pull off guiding that guy, huh?”
They’d only ever planned on getting close to him. They hadn’t actually decided how the guiding would work. The whole plan had been riddled with holes from the start.
“But do we really need to guide him? He seemed fine on his own today.”
“Well… true.”
“He’s such a prick I didn’t even want to help. Let him spiral out of control, see if I care.”
He almost nodded in agreement. If Delroz were the only one at risk, Banteon would have agreed and walked away right then and there. But the situation was far too big to ignore.
“You said his energy was all over the place the last time you checked, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that means all the other Guides in the Subjugation Squad failed too.”
After Delroz left Banteon’s tent, rumors about him spread like wildfire through the Squad. Hoping maybe they could succeed where others failed, Guides had probably gone to him one by one and tried to make contact.
And from what Banteon had heard, he’d rejected every single male Guide. The only one he’d ever allowed to touch him… was Banteon.
He rubbed his temple with his fingertips, the tension behind his eyes starting to throb.
Tearot looked just as frustrated.
“Ugh, the more I think about it, the worse it gets. So our biggest issue now is how to guide him without getting caught, right?”
“Exactly. Just faintly—only enough that I can sense it. I just need one brief moment of contact.”
“That guy’s got freakish instincts. Hiding it from him won’t be easy.”
