Even knowing full well, Delroz’s coldness in a moment like this felt unfamiliar. It was as if he were witnessing something other than human—something that had only been pretending until now.
“Ah, found you!”
An officer in uniform came running toward them from afar, cutting through the awkward silence between the two.
“Sir Banteon! Sir Delroz, you’re here!”
The man, bearing the branch insignia on his arm, approached them, panting heavily. Bowing, he caught his breath and stammered out the message.
“The airship is almost here. You must evacuate quickly.”
The airship that was expected to arrive around dawn had shown up earlier than anticipated. It was only possible because they had deployed immediately upon receiving Banteon’s signal. When Banteon and Delroz looked toward where the esper from the branch was pointing, a white sphere was descending from the distant sky.
“Let’s go.”
“…Yeah.”
Only then did Delroz, who hadn’t moved an inch until now, start to walk. Yet an awkward tension still hung between them as they moved.
It was roughly 500 meters to the airfield. Before long, a wide open space came into view between the buildings. When they reached the metal fence marking the entrance to the airfield, they could see the airship, now landed in the distance, and a flurry of Royal Esper Center personnel bustling around it.
Among them, one person spotted Banteon and Delroz and started running toward them.
Even from far away, the red hair was unmistakable.
“Bante!”
A familiar voice called out loudly to Banteon. It was Tearot, whom he hadn’t seen in a while. But Tearot was supposed to be at the collapsed mine. What was he doing here?
“You’re safe!”
“Tearot. How did you get here?”
“The moment you went missing, everyone except the search team returned to HQ to stand by. Even Commander Sotenru was waiting—we mobilized immediately after that.”
Leaving only the search team behind while the rest waited at HQ? Banteon was puzzled by the unusual order, but then a thought struck him. Of course. Since both SS-Rank Esper Delroz and Guide Banteon had gone missing together, they must’ve assumed it was a defection rather than a rescue situation. That would explain why they were ready to act at any moment.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Did that bastard…?”
“We just got a little lost. No need to worry.”
“That’s a relief. Seriously, thank God.”
Tearot, usually annoying, was actually a welcome sight here. The harsh atmosphere from just before faded as Banteon raised a hand to greet him. Tearot reached out with joy and clasped Banteon’s shoulder.
“Ugh…”
Banteon let out a sound instinctively from the unexpectedly strong grip. Before Tearot could step back in surprise, Delroz, who had been watching, roughly pushed him aside. Caught off guard, Tearot stumbled, glaring at the one who shoved him.
“You’d disappeared without a word—I figured you’d run off. Guess not.”
“As if.”
“You really didn’t need to come back. Ever consider you’re more suited to the outside than the Center?”
“Thanks for the warm welcome.”
Delroz brushed off Tearot’s sharp words with indifference. Tearot, visibly irritated by the cavalier attitude, turned back toward Banteon.
“Bante, you must’ve had a rough time. Let’s get inside.”
As Tearot moved to guide him toward the airship, Delroz stepped in front to block the way. Tearot, demanding an explanation, got nothing but a mocking reply.
“I’m not handing him over to someone who manhandles the injured.”
At those words, Tearot’s expression faltered. His icy demeanor quickly gave way to concern.
“Bante, where are you hurt? Is it serious?”
“It’s just a twisted ankle. I’m fine now.”
Even after Banteon reassured him, Tearot continued scanning him with suspicious eyes. Checking for any other injuries or signs of pain, his gaze finally landed on Banteon’s uniform, clucking his tongue at the state of it.
Though the uniform looked presentable thanks to the hotel’s care the night before, it couldn’t hide the slightly dulled sheen of the buttons or the faintly faded hem of the pants. Things that would’ve been unthinkable for the usually pristine Banteon.
Seeing the telltale signs of his ordeal, Tearot’s expression grew somber.
“You’ve been through a lot…”
“It’s fine. I made it back safely, didn’t I?”
“I was about to go down myself right away, but the quake dragged on.”
By the time they’d tried to reach Banteon after the tremors stopped, the place where he and Delroz had been was blocked off by a pile of rocks. The priority was rescuing those trapped inside. As Banteon consoled the dispirited Tearot with a pat on the shoulder, Tearot grabbed his arm and murmured softly.
“I should’ve been assigned to your team…”
“Even if you were, it probably wouldn’t have changed much.”
Delroz, who’d been silently listening, cut in again. For reasons unclear, his arms crossed in a brooding stance that radiated hostility.
The aura of the two espers flared violently. A searing tension filled the air, painting the surroundings red as if set ablaze. After staring silently at Delroz for a long moment, Tearot finally spoke with a mocking smirk.
“At least I wouldn’t have let him get hurt. What kind of SS-Rank Esper can’t even catch a falling Guide without injuring him?”
“Because it was me, he got out with this little damage. If it had been you falling with him, he would’ve been crushed to a pulp.”
Crushed to a pulp? Even Banteon, who had been listening silently, winced at Delroz’s extreme choice of words. He had almost forgotten—but yes, back then Delroz had also compared him to pudding. Just what kind of creature did this man see when he looked at people?
“As if. Even if it meant I got hurt, I would’ve protected Bante. Besides, you seem to be in perfect condition, don’t you?”
“……”
“Unlike some people, I prioritize a Guide’s safety above all else. I honestly can’t understand what happened here.”
Tearot sneered, implying that what had occurred was unimaginable for a model Esper trained under strict Center protocol. There was a lot Banteon wanted to say about Tearot calling himself a “model Esper,” but instead he took a step back and simply watched the childish bickering unfold.
“Spare me your doctrine. But one thing’s clear—your so-called ‘model Esper’ has no problem creeping on someone else’s Guide.”
“Someone else’s Guide?”
“I’m talking about my Guide—the one you just laid your hands on.”
“What?”
Just as Banteon opened his mouth to object to being called “my Guide,” his eyes met Tearot’s. The redhead’s pupils trembled slightly, caught off guard. Trying to judge whether it was the truth or not, he gritted his teeth and finally managed to ask:
“Bante. Can you even guide with that bastard?”
“…Apparently, I can.”
Tearot’s eyes widened in disbelief. Shock registered across his face, while next to him, Delroz looked smug—his expression practically crowing, See? I was right. He puffed out his chest like a child who had just won a game. So simpleminded.
Banteon, annoyed by the display, gave Tearot a consoling pat on the shoulder.
“We’ve agreed to a temporary guiding contract for now.”
“Temporary?”
At that word, Delroz turned his gaze toward Banteon. But Banteon, unfazed, repeated the word with emphasis.
“Yes. Temporary—just until Delroz finds the Guide he’s actually looking for. There’s no way Delroz would go for a permanent match with a male Guide.”
He’d deliberately emphasized the word temporary. If Tearot was as perceptive as always, he’d get the message. Yes, it had come out that Delroz and Banteon could guide together—but it hadn’t come out that Banteon had stopped Delroz from going into a full-blown rampage that night. That was a crucial difference.
As intended, Tearot’s eyes brightened noticeably. It wasn’t too late. If that specific incident hadn’t been exposed, they still had a chance to work around this. The worst had been avoided.
“Right. Weren’t you the one who swore up and down that you’d never guide with a man? Must’ve slipped your mind for a second there.”
Feeling revitalized, Tearot raised his voice toward Delroz. The momentary good mood that had been on Delroz’s face disappeared, and he silently stared back without a word.
Just then, from the distant edge of the airfield, the flames shot up even fiercer than before. The sound of Center agents running frantically behind them grew louder and more chaotic.
This wasn’t the time for personal quarrels. Banteon’s situation could be dealt with later, but the looming crisis in front of them wouldn’t wait.
“If you’re done, get moving. You’ve got monsters to deal with.”
“Ah…”
Only then did Tearot remember the situation at hand and nodded quickly.
“The people who came on the airship are probably already deployed. I’d better get moving, too.”
“Do we have enough force?”
“The number of monsters is strangely high, but… I think we can wipe them out in a day.”
At least some good news. Whether by fate or coincidence, the fastest airship had been dispatched to pick up Banteon and Delroz. And since the airship was one of the largest, it had brought a significant number of personnel. The team had been mobilized the moment the rescue request came in, using agents who’d already returned to HQ from the mines and were on standby. As a result, most of the deployed were combat agents.
As Tearot turned to join the battlefield, Banteon called out to him. As always, he gave a casual wave to his friend.
“Tearot. Be careful out there.”
“Of course. If you’re telling me to be careful, I’d better listen.”
Tearot replied with a bright smile to the well-wishing. He always sounded too carefree, but he was capable. This mess would be handled soon enough. As Tearot waved and disappeared into the distance, the sound of someone clicking their tongue came from nearby.
Right—this one needed to be sent off too.
“Delroz.”
“What.”
What was his problem now? Just moments ago, he’d seemed fine—but now Delroz looked absolutely miserable. His expression was unreadable, with irritation darkening his brow as he glared at Banteon.
