“When you’re this smart, you end up knowing things whether you want to or not. How exactly are Espers born, I wonder? Even at S-rank, it’s hard to define their limits. But SS-rank… Can we really call them the same kind of human?”
His eyes gleamed meaningfully as he made a cold, clinical assessment, as if speaking about someone else entirely.
If it had been someone else asking the question, maybe it would’ve been different—but how was one supposed to react to a person who was born an Esper and rose to power with Esper abilities? As Banteon remained silent, the Center Director stood, as if their business had concluded.
“I hope you’ll take a moment to think about what I said. If it’s you, Banteon, I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Banteon glanced between the politely opened door and the hallway beyond. His tone was courteous, yet there was a barbed undertone.
With no desire to become further entangled, Banteon left the office without a backward glance. Even though he had successfully confined Delroz in isolation for as long as he’d wanted, the lingering discomfort refused to fade.
***
A massive shadow passed over the Royal Esper Center. The long, cylindrical body of an airship floated gracefully before slowly descending in a swirl of dust.
[Area 82 is now restricted for airship landing procedures. Strong winds and debris expected—unauthorized personnel, please avoid the area. The airship is scheduled to arrive in approximately 30 minutes. All involved personnel, please remain at your posts.]
“Shall I prepare some refreshments?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Please let me know if you need anything.”
Banteon, seated, answered with a smile. The staff member politely withdrew, whispering with a colleague as they walked away, as if they’d become friends just from exchanging a few words.
The airship arriving now was carrying those who had been dispatched for the recovery of a village destroyed by a monster raid. Banteon was waiting for Tearot to return on that very vessel.
A 30-minute delay. Since he had arrived at the waiting area 20 minutes before the estimated landing time, he would be waiting for nearly an hour. Airships, which moved with the flow of weather patterns, were always at the mercy of climate conditions, so the predicted times rarely aligned. A 30-minute delay was, frankly, a good outcome.
‘This is why I didn’t want to come.’
Normally, Banteon didn’t pay much attention to Tearot’s dispatches. He simply noted when he left and when he returned. But this particular mission had seen far less communication, and Tearot had seemed unusually preoccupied. So Banteon had made a special effort this time.
The tiny dot in the distance gradually grew closer. The airship’s round, white body was massive—so large it was difficult to take in at a glance. Excluding the engineers, it carried 300 recovery personnel, so it truly felt like a building descending from the sky.
Through the glass, Banteon watched the airship touch down through the dusty haze. The roaring engines cut off, and the rapidly spinning propellers came to a halt.
[Airship BS-275 has landed safely. Runway restrictions are lifted.]
The red lights on the display turned green. In the distance, people began disembarking in an orderly line through the opened hatch. Among the uniformed crowd, picking out the person he was waiting for wasn’t easy. One of those many reddish-brown heads must be Tearot.
Just as Banteon began to rise, he spotted a figure waving from afar. He couldn’t make out the face from this distance, but there was no mistaking who it was. Only one person would greet him so enthusiastically.
Sure enough, as the person pushed through the crowd and drew near, Tearot’s familiar features came clearly into view.
“Bante! You really came to meet me?”
His bright, beaming face ran toward him in delight.
Any worry Banteon had harbored about Tearot being downcast seemed completely unfounded. Just as Tearot had said over the phone, it looked like he’d worked through whatever had been weighing on him.
“What’s this? You’ve never done this before.”
“It’s not like I never have.”
“I swear—this is the first time you’ve ever come out on your own.”
Swearing, seriously? Tearot clasped his hands together like he was praying in gratitude, and Banteon’s lips curled into a faint smile. True, in the past, the only times he’d shown up were when Tearot begged persistently for two or three days straight. That was back when Tearot used to get nervous before every deployment.
Seeing how happy he was now, Banteon briefly considered doing this more often—until he remembered the hour he’d just spent waiting. That thought evaporated. Judging by Tearot’s relaxed expression, it didn’t seem like the mission had been too serious after all. Maybe next time, he could just leave him to it.
“Right, so what happened? I heard Delroz caused a scene!”
“Keep your voice down.”
Already, plenty of people nearby were listening in. The moment Tearot mentioned Delroz’s name, a few eyes sharpened with interest. Banteon tapped Tearot lightly on the arm, and Tearot, catching on, turned in another direction and began to walk.
Naturally, they headed toward Banteon’s study. Tearot held back his words during the walk, forcing a neutral expression, but the moment the door closed behind them, he let out a loud exhale.
“Is it true he broke out?”
“How much did you hear?”
“Just that he violated the rules and got thrown into solitary. Then he escaped, so his confinement was extended. That alone made everyone go nuts. I’ve never heard of anyone breaking out of solitary before!”
Banteon gave a small nod. The rumor that Delroz had snuck into his room after escaping hadn’t spread yet. The Center Director must have handled it quickly. Banteon still didn’t like him, but he had to admit—he was competent.
Tearot asked in a breathless rush.
“You know the reason, right?”
“I do.”
“…Can’t you just say it straight? Come on, spill everything you know.”
He wanted to explain, but it wasn’t something that could be summed up easily. How much was appropriate to say? To tell Tearot everything Banteon knew, he would have to start from the date he had with Keslan.
Delroz had come to him in the middle of the night, said strange things, and displayed obsessive behavior. Relaying all that would be too much—and frankly, he had no desire to. He skipped over the trivial incidents and only shared the important parts in brief.
“…So, he developed Guide Awareness Syndrome late and snuck into my room. He’s going to be confined in isolation for about a month.”
“He went to your room? What the hell was he thinking?”
Tearot widened his eyes in shock and raised his voice, then quickly scanned Banteon from head to toe. He checked to see if there were any injuries, any signs of distress. Banteon let out a sigh. He’d forgotten, just for a moment, how frantic this guy could be.
It felt like a waste of time to have even worried a little.
“I wouldn’t know either.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Who the hell could understand what goes on in that guy’s head… Wait, wasn’t that the day you went on a date?”
Tearot grinned knowingly.
“Then Delroz must’ve escaped just to ruin your date, huh?”
Tearot hit the nail on the head. His nodding grew more vigorous, as if everything suddenly made perfect sense, a sly smile curling on his lips.
“For once, he did something worthwhile.”
It was the first time Tearot ever expressed satisfaction with anything Delroz had done.
Tearot didn’t like Keslan either. He was wary of all the Espers who clung to Banteon, but he had always been especially sharp toward Keslan. Suddenly, Banteon remembered something Delroz had said that night—his inexplicable judgment of Keslan.
That he was greedy and scheming.
Publicly, Keslan didn’t have a bad reputation. His grades were solid, and he was respectful to the other instructors.
It was the first time Banteon had heard someone speak poorly of him. Though he still found it hard to agree, the words lingered uncomfortably in the back of his mind.
“Tearot. How does Keslan look to you?”
“Doesn’t seem great. He’s ambitious, always scheming. Honestly, not the kind of guy I’d trust.”
“Really?”
“Everything he does is exactly your type. And that makes it feel even more fake to me.”
The phrasing was different, but the sentiment was similar to Delroz’s.
Banteon didn’t know what went on inside Delroz’s head, but he knew Tearot—who’d been with him since childhood—well. Tearot wasn’t someone who said things just because he didn’t like someone. That meant there was at least some credibility to his judgment.
He slowly stroked his chin. To Banteon, Keslan had always seemed harmless, even innocent. Of course, he hadn’t believed Keslan’s attachment was purely out of affection. A bit of ambition was only natural. With Banteon’s reputation and power, it was impossible to expect anyone to be completely uninterested.
Still, the idea that Keslan’s intentions were so blatant it was obvious to others left a bitter taste.
“Well, in any case, Delroz is locked in isolation, and Keslan’s off to external training, so things should be quiet for a while, right?”
This was the first Banteon had heard of Keslan undergoing training. As far as he remembered, there weren’t any plans for graduated Espers to receive additional education. It must have been arranged suddenly.
“Training, out of nowhere?”
“He left today. It’s a three-month program.”
A sudden deployment without even a preparation period.
Banteon glanced at Tearot, wondering if Keslan’s departure had been orchestrated by his family after rumors spread about the two of them spending time together. Catching the meaning in his eyes, Tearot raised a hand in protest.
“Just so you know, it wasn’t us this time. By the time we found out, the training schedule was already set.”
