Banteon tucked the protective mana stone, placed nearby, into his chest pocket.
“They’re coming.”
“I’ll cover the rear!”
Even if they regrouped their formation, four people couldn’t hold out for long. If they focused solely on defense, they could manage until the Center Espers cleaned things up. The problem was the guiding. An Esper’s power was expendable—eventually, it would run out.
The only silver lining was that Banteon was a Guide. But even that was a half-hearted consolation. Even if he guided the most at-risk ones intermittently, Banteon’s own stamina would eventually be drained completely.
‘Looks like it’s going to be a long night.’
Dwelling too much on worry would only worsen his fatigue and make it harder to do his job properly when the time came to guide. Leaning back against the seat, he felt the rumble of monsters crying out and rocks tumbling outside.
His corneas stung from the sudden flashes of light, so he closed his eyes. Noisy movement flickered beyond his eyelids.
—Thud. Thud. Crack!
“Don’t let them get near the vehicle!”
“Understood!”
From the urgent voices, it was clear the situation wasn’t good. A claw swipe from a monster had left a round hole in the car’s body. The area surrounding Banteon’s seat had been reinforced at twice the strength of the standard protective mechanism, but the rest of the vehicle might as well have been paper.
He could feel his heart pounding as he watched the fighters. The red auras still moved with a steady rhythm. Having confirmed their condition, Banteon deliberately avoided looking at the monsters and shut his eyes again. Succumbing to fear would only hinder what he could do.
—BOOM!
The sound was different this time. A massive crash rang out, like the earth itself had been struck by a colossal hammer, followed by an eerie silence that swallowed all surrounding noise.
Just as he was about to open his eyes, a familiar voice rang out.
“What’s all the commotion here? If you’re an Esper capable of fighting, get your ass to the central combat zone—now.”
Footsteps stomped closer, stopping right in front of the car.
“Who the hell are you trying to protect so badly that you’re throwing a fit instead of running away?”
The vehicle tilted.
“Let’s have a look at that face.”
Without hesitation, the man grabbed the underside of the car and lifted it effortlessly. It was a reckless act, done with zero regard for whoever might be inside.
As the car shifted, Banteon naturally slid toward the opposite door—and locked eyes with the brazen intruder.
“You…”
Delroz’s eyes widened the moment he recognized Banteon.
He froze in shock, then—unlike the brute force he used to lift the vehicle—carefully set it down with a gentleness that prevented even the jagged terrain from being felt. Delroz then casually ripped off the door, as if it were made of paper.
“What are you doing here? All Guides should’ve been evacuated to the shelters.”
“I was on my way.”
That was before the road ended up like this.
Delroz scanned the wrecked car and blocked road, quickly piecing together the situation with a grim frown.
A single black vehicle surrounded by monsters, Espers clearly capable of escaping continuing a grueling war of attrition—yet the person he found here was the last person who should’ve been in such a place.
Delroz pressed his smooth lips into a tight line, then turned and barked sharply at the bloodied Espers soaked in monster gore.
“Are you brain-dead morons really Espers? You can’t even handle a few Gremlins and ended up wrecking the car like this?”
He dismissed the bodyguards who had risked their lives to protect the vehicle as idiots. Then he tore off the opposite door—the one Banteon had been leaning against—without a second thought.
Smoke billowed in freely through the open space. Only then did the city, ablaze and burning, come fully into view.
As Banteon stepped out, his shoes touched down onto the sticky blood of Gremlins, and the sensation clinging to the soles made his shoulders twitch in discomfort. From a step away, Delroz clicked his tongue softly.
“Come here.”
Delroz’s massive hand stretched out toward Banteon. Yet his gaze trembled, betraying his unease. What if Banteon refuses? That hesitation lingered in his eyes.
But Banteon wasn’t thinking about that at all.
Delroz had carried and lifted him more times than he could count. When his leg was injured, during recovery, or simply under the pretense of “treatment,” Delroz always found a way to haul him around. If he was bored, he’d just pick Banteon up without a second thought.
But this—this was the first time he’d ever asked so politely.
Momentarily forgetting the danger of the situation, Banteon looked at Delroz with quiet fascination. Misreading his expression, Delroz’s brows drew together.
“I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all.”
The excuse made Banteon chuckle under his breath. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. That wasn’t why he’d hesitated. He was just… curious.
Banteon stepped onto the least scorched patch of ground and walked over. Normally, Delroz wouldn’t have given a damn about Banteon’s opinion and would’ve lifted him without a word. But this time, he simply held out his hand in silence and waited.
It was the first time Banteon had willingly embraced him. His movements were awkward as he placed his weight into Delroz’s arms.
Delroz gripped one arm, supported him under the knees, and lifted him effortlessly. In an instant, Banteon’s line of sight rose above Delroz’s height.
“You guys return to the estate immediately and assist with support. You’ve done well.”
“Understood. Stay safe.”
The bowed heads of the bodyguards still pulsed with stable energy. They’d last through the night even without further guiding.
And if their condition worsened, they only needed to reach the estate. The family-employed Guides would take care of the rest.
With their safety ensured and the family’s situation stabilizing, the only thing left to worry about was…
‘What the hell is wrong with this guy’s energy?’
From the moment he showed up, Delroz’s red aura had been pulsing erratically, violently distorting Banteon’s vision in a way that was both irritating and unsettling.
He should’ve come earlier instead of postponing the guiding session. What did he expect, dragging it out like this?
Confessing out of nowhere and then pulling away after getting rejected—what a move. He must’ve been suffering more than he let on, to have held out until his condition got this bad. Banteon had always known Delroz was reckless, but he didn’t expect this level of disregard.
“What’s your condition?”
“I can manage.”
A blatant lie, but his voice was calm enough that Banteon might’ve believed him if he couldn’t see the aura with his own eyes. And it’s not like he could just point out that Delroz didn’t look normal—there was no way to prove it.
He considered guiding him secretly, discreetly directing his energy toward Delroz. The energy followed along for a moment, then twisted off course like something had blocked it. Now that he thought about it, the same thing had happened during their last guiding session.
There was no reason their compatibility rate should suddenly drop like this. It wasn’t just the numbers—it felt less effective. Even though Delroz was holding him, he was fully geared up with gloves and everything. Without direct skin contact, it wasn’t even as effective as holding hands. Still, with a high matching rate, time and proximity alone should help stabilize things gradually.
But what should he do?
Normally, Banteon would’ve just let him suffer through his own stubborn choices, but this wasn’t the time for that. If left unchecked, the damage wouldn’t stop at just Delroz.
“Then hold on tight.”
Oblivious to Banteon’s inner turmoil, Delroz launched into the air, flying under his own power. The sky, once crowded with monsters, had emptied as they descended to the ground. Now it was eerily silent above.
With Banteon in one arm, Delroz raised his free hand—sweeping it from right to left, top to bottom.
Wherever his fingers pointed, monsters shrieked as they were torn apart, and brick walls burst into sprays of red. Streetlights that had lit their way shattered, and old street trees—centuries-old guardians of the capital—burst into flames.
That’s when Banteon remembered what Rohan had said.
“Your Esper’s going to struggle this time. In a densely populated capital, raw, uncontrolled power can backfire. It might cause more harm than good.”
And Rohan had been right. Delroz had never been one for finesse. He always relied on brute force over precision. Even in close-quarters combat, the collateral damage was massive—so using his powers from a distance like this was clearly a bad idea.
To make matters worse, his energy was unstable.
Banteon, perched in Delroz’s arms, had a higher vantage point now. Looking down, he noticed the beads of sweat collecting on Delroz’s forehead—not from exertion, but from the struggle to control his abilities.
Another tree disintegrated beneath Delroz’s finger. One of the great trees that had guarded the capital for over 200 years. At this rate, Delroz might cause more destruction than the monsters themselves.
“Put me down somewhere safe and go handle it. You’re still not suited for long-range combat.”
“Don’t start with that useless talk again. The shelters are sealed shut already—what place is safe now?”
Even if the shelters were completely sealed, they’d still open for Banteon if he requested. But he didn’t mention that. It was time to say something more important.
“I just ran into Rohan.”
“Who?”
“That guy from the first monster attack.”
“…What?”
Delroz’s moving fingers stopped. He slowly turned his head to meet Banteon’s gaze. His golden eyes, rarely seen this close, flickered like flames.
“He’s behind this attack too.”
“What the hell is that guy?”
“I don’t know either. But…”
Banteon looked out over the burning city.
“He said your powers could backfire in this battle. That they might cause even bigger problems.”
“Shit.”
He didn’t want to admit it, but Rohan’s warning had hit the mark.
Because he’d listened and avoided areas with tall buildings, they’d been spared the worst. If they’d stayed in the plaza’s center, they might have been buried under the wreckage of a collapsing hotel.
