“Such a kind soul. I really should repay them if I ever find them.”
“No.”
“…What?”
“If I find them… we’ll see.”
Delroz bared his teeth in a grin, thinking of the person who had stopped his rampage. Petern scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly overcome with a chill.
“Why are you thinking about your savior like they’re your next target?”
“Right. A savior. A very precious one.”
Delroz ran his fingers along the inside of his collar. Between his smooth skin, a rough, dry patch lingered. It was a wound he had refused to let a healer-type Esper treat—one he had deliberately chosen to keep.
“They went through the trouble of saving me and then shocked me with a taser and ran. I have to hear why.”
“Ha, haha… Maybe they were scared after they saw what they’d saved. You know… not exactly the friendliest-looking face, boss…”
“Petern.”
“…Right. No one more gentlemanly than you.”
Petern’s back broke out in a cold sweat as he quickly changed his tune. Delroz, unconcerned with his subordinate’s panic, kept picturing the silver-haired Guide.
He recalled the silhouette and retreating figure barely glimpsed through the misty moonlight. The staggering steps made it clear they’d overexerted themselves while Guiding him. That was only natural. If they’d managed to suppress an SS-Rank rampage, they must have taken a serious risk. But why had they run off in such a panic?
Delroz’s smile faded at the memory. The sensations that had ruled his body were not easily forgotten. In all his memories, there wasn’t a single moment free of pain. His nerves were always on edge, like walking barefoot on needles. Even after meeting Guides at the Center, he experienced only fleeting peace—never true relief from the primal agony.
This was just how life would be. Wandering in search of a Guide with even a slightly higher matching rate, eventually losing control like the first Esper and dying—that was the path he’d resigned himself to.
But his first rampage had defied all expectations. What had seemed like a distant scenario during training turned out to be a living hell beyond words.
His entire body felt like it was about to explode, swelling with unbearable heat while also drowning in a freezing torrent. The sound of wind, the drop of dew—it all hit his eardrums like thunderous blasts. Even the act of swallowing saliva scraped his throat like a drill.
If this was what rampaging felt like, then he’d rather end it before it dragged on. At the moment he made that decision, someone approached.
Even in the chaos, where it felt like thunder was roaring in his ears, the sound of that person’s steps in the grass was soft. Fingers hovered near, never quite touching, teasing the space around him. Every tormented nerve he had suddenly turned toward that presence.
He knew it instinctively. This person was his salvation.
Please, take hold of me. Get me out of this pain. He begged in silence, cursing his own frozen body. If he could’ve opened his eyes or spoken, he might’ve clung to them without hesitation.
Even without contact, their presence dulled the pain. As soon as he managed to move a few fingers, he grabbed the wrist of someone who looked like they’d never let him reach them.
Only then did the flames engulfing his body finally go out.
Though he’d later grumble to Petern about being tasered, he had no intention of blaming them.
If he hadn’t passed out like that, he would’ve kept draining the Guide’s energy until their body collapsed. That was why the moment he regained consciousness at the Center, he immediately asked if any Guides had been injured or hospitalized.
But none had been admitted to the infirmary. The Guide had left on their own feet, even in the early hours of the morning. That meant they were at least well enough to walk. So why hadn’t they shown up?
By now, the rumors about the silver-haired Guide had spread all across the Center. The person involved had to have heard.
Then why were they avoiding him?
Delroz rested his chin on his hand and gently swung his foot. His body, once on the verge of a meltdown, now felt lighter than ever. Even after destroying a whole building, he was like a brimming cup with not a drop spilled.
It was unlike any Guiding he’d ever experienced. Never before had he felt this refreshed or relieved of pain after a session with a Guide. It was the first true peace in his life.
“So all we know for sure is they had silver hair and long hair? Nothing else? No glasses, earrings, anything like that?”
“Neither.”
“Then… isn’t it possible they’re a man?”
Among noblewomen, it was common practice to pierce their ears from a young age. A woman without earrings was rare. Still, Delroz shook his head at the plausible suggestion.
“No way.”
“But why are you so sure? You said all you saw was their silhouette and back, and even then, only from the waist up.”
Petern pressed him. Delroz had said he only caught a glimpse of their retreating figure while lying down, yet he was convinced the Guide was a woman. Realistically, considering noblemen often wore their hair long, the odds leaned toward a male Guide.
But no matter how many facts were laid out, Delroz remained unwavering.
“It couldn’t have been a man.”
“But a woman without pierced ears—”
“No man could pull off hair like that.”
“…What?”
Did I just hear that right? Petern blinked, stunned, but Delroz ignored him and folded his arms.
Though faint, Delroz couldn’t forget the image that had briefly passed before his eyes. Pale moonlight had streamed in from behind, casting a soft backlight. Silky silver hair fell like a curtain. And behind it… the face that had looked down at him—
“I’ve never seen anyone shine like that before.”
“Gasp.”
“What’s with the reaction?”
“Our Captain has finally…”
Delroz kicked Petern, who was now pretending to tear up dramatically. Ignoring the subordinate who rolled around the floor groaning in mock pain, Delroz stood up.
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Easy for you to say. Try being in my shoes!”
“Quiet. Stop whining and get to work.”
“Of course! Leave it to me. If she’s going to be my future sister-in-law, I’ll definitely bring her back.”
“Report back once we narrow down the suspects.”
Finding the Guide was urgent, but Delroz also had to hunt down the bastards who had drugged him and launched a sneak attack.
The one who’d handed him the drugged drink would never see daylight again. Acting in haste without properly tracing their backers had been a mistake. Because of that, now he had to start all over and raze everything to the ground.
Not that Delroz would be doing the hard work—he’d leave that to the Center. And if they didn’t bring back results worth accepting, he was fully prepared to raze the entire place, guilt or no guilt.
It was called the “Center” with all the pomp and grandeur, but in truth, it was just a luxury nest where nobles gathered to indulge themselves. From Delroz’s perspective, it was a place he could erase without an ounce of remorse.
Once he found his Guide, wiping out this wretched place entirely seemed like a fine idea.
A slow, wicked smile crept across Delroz’s lips.
***
His body ached from lying in bed too long, so he stretched himself out. Rolling his shoulders and wrists, he could finally feel the blood circulating again.
Banteon had taken two days of canceled classes and finally used the long-saved annual leave he’d been holding onto. After spending a whole week just sleeping, it seemed like his energy was finally coming back. Still, it was absurd. One session of Guiding had cost him an entire week. And he hadn’t even done it properly.
While Banteon had been resting, the Center had apparently flipped over a few times. Normally, he would’ve brushed off whatever madness the SS-Rank Esper stirred up and scoffed at how vulgar the guy was. But things weren’t so simple this time, and his head was a mess.
Even while walking through his favorite garden, thoughts of Delroz filled his mind.
The man wasn’t just looking for his savior. He was tearing through the place like a madman, as if searching for some fated other half. It made no sense—why chase after a Guide you’d only encountered briefly while completely out of your mind?
‘Don’t tell me… the matching rate was high?’
A troubling thought crept in, and he gave his head a small shake. The countless matching tests he’d gone through had always yielded consistent results—there was no reason Delroz would be any different. His condition had been catastrophic, so a simple Guiding session must have left an outsized impression. He told himself that again and again.
Troubled, he kept walking—until he noticed someone in the distance bowing their head and approaching him.
“Mr. Banteon.”
“Hello, Ms. Sodel.”
“Thank goodness. I was actually looking for you.”
Teacher Sodel extended the terminal she was holding. The screen showed a message draft with Banteon as the recipient. Just as she’d said, she had been about to send him a message.
“I just came from getting permission from the Director. Could you cover the Stage 3 class for today?”
“I’ve never handled beginner-level classes before. Is that alright?”
“Well… even self-study would be fine. Something urgent came up…”
She clasped her hands together and bowed, visibly troubled. Asking someone to cover a class while they were on leave was clearly rude. Her guilty expression showed she knew that.
“What about the other beginner instructors?”
“Most of them have volunteered for the Subjugation Squad formation, so no one else is available right now.”
“Ah, that’s right.”
A new dungeon had been discovered in the abandoned mines, and many active personnel had been dispatched. Several teachers had followed their students into the field, so there weren’t many left to cover for others.
