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Join the ServerPerhaps it was because he had dwelled too much on feeling like discarded trash, but Enoch dreamed he was in the middle of a landfill. Born a noble, he had only ever encountered the concept of a landfill through images. Now, a smell permeated the air, so real he could almost believe he was truly there.
The pungent odor was so startlingly realistic that he began to question if he had, at some forgotten point, actually visited such a place.
While it was only a mild, musty scent compared to the true reek of a landfill, for an Esper with heightened senses, this unfamiliar assault left him no chance to close off his perceptions. It was enough to violently yank him from his slumber.
“…Ugh.”
Even after he awoke, the pervasive stench clung to him, and the darkness of his surroundings remained. Enoch groaned, his face screwing up in discomfort.
“You’ve certainly had a long rest.”
Enoch, who had been trying to gauge his situation and location, turned his head towards the familiar voice. His hands, however, were unnaturally bound, though otherwise, he felt surprisingly intact.
“What is the meaning of this? Have you truly lost your mind, Bliss? Do you intend to kill me?”
A soft chuckle reached his ears.
“If that were truly my intention, I hardly would have laid you in such a luxurious bed.”
Only then did Enoch register the exquisite quality of the bed beneath him. He released the tension from his shoulders and pushed himself upright.
“Ah, but Bliss, that technique you used on me… it’s meant for enemies…”
A dawning realization struck Enoch: he was still in one of the numerous, lavish rooms within Bliss’s private estate. He had been about to retort with a newfound sense of composure, but the thought made him stiffen, halting all movement.
“While I am curious about your impressions of being subjected to my Psychic Silence, there is something I am even more eager to know.”
Bliss continued, slowly advancing towards Enoch, who was now utterly consumed by astonishment.
“Tell me, how does it feel to have been guided once more by Ethan Prescott’s ‘paltry pocket’?”
Though his head was still shrouded by the ‘pocket,’ the bizarre gasps escaping him and his frantic attempts to examine his body were telling. One could easily envision the look of utter bewilderment on Enoch’s face without needing to see it directly.
Before falling victim to Bliss’s ability, Enoch had known his own condition better than anyone. A persistent, gnawing pain had relentlessly tormented his entire body. Coupled with a persistent, worsening headache, he found himself overwhelmed by uncontrollable emotional upheaval.
Having spent the majority of his life as an ordinary person, Enoch lacked the rigorous training that allowed Bliss Moore to perpetually suppress his inner turmoil and numb his own senses. Frequent, inexplicable bursts of anger would surge within him, yet giving in to them only exacerbated his physical and mental agony. He knew it was prudent to avoid communication, but with Scott’s disappearance, such a luxury was no longer afforded to him.
Yet now, he was truly recovered.
The tremor in his hands, the searing pain that felt like it was carving at his fingertips, the headache so profound it made him wish to tear his head off—all of these symptoms.
He was, in fact, recovered. And in an even better state than after receiving s*x guiding from Scott.
“Th-this wasn’t even this bad during a seizure manifestation.”
He forced out the words, feigning composure, but his voice betrayed him, utterly devoid of its usual tranquility.
As Enoch’s breathing grew ragged beneath the ‘pocket,’ Bliss extended a hand.
“Why? Are you perhaps afraid that such a powerful Guide might have triggered your imprinting phenomenon even without direct mucosal contact?”
Whoosh—
The air, which had grown humid and stifling from his ragged panting, suddenly cooled. It wasn’t that he had struggled to breathe, but seeing Enoch let out such a loud exhalation, Bliss finished untying his hands.
“Don’t worry. Imprinting won’t occur without mucosal contact. However, Ethan asked me to tell you something. If you are curious whether a single, minor mucosal contact can induce imprinting, when it ordinarily requires repeated attempts, then you must come prepared to be ‘forcibly bound’ to a Guide.”
As his mind began to function properly, Enoch logically re-examined his situation, confirming that he had not imprinted on Ethan. He then composed himself. Rubbing his aching wrists, he feigned nonchalance and provoked Bliss.
“Hah, ‘forcibly bound,’ how utterly laughable. For me to be bound to Ethan Prescott would literally necessitate a deep, prolonged kiss. Yet, I know Espers who have shared several deep kisses with Ethan without imprinting.”
A faint, ominous curl appeared at the corner of Bliss’s lips.
“There are two things you’ve misunderstood. First, I am an Esper with both primary and secondary abilities rated S-class.”
‘Meaning, for an Esper like you, with an A-class primary ability, to reach the imprinting stage, that level of mucosal contact would need to be repeated countless times.’
“Second, I have already imprinted on Ethan Prescott.”
Bliss’s lips, which had merely twitched upward, now formed a perfect, chilling arc.
“…!!!”
From this moment, Bliss’s world would revolve around Ethan. And if Ethan desired it, that same fate could be forcibly imposed upon Enoch himself. Enoch couldn’t bring himself to voice the audacious question: ‘Could you truly tolerate other Espers around him?’ If Ethan were an ordinary Guide, the general theories concerning an Esper’s intense devotion to their Guide might apply. However, Ethan was a multi-Guide, much like Devon.
Bliss could, if Ethan truly desired it, tolerate his Guide having other Espers, even if it meant his own internal decay. To rely solely on Ethan’s possessiveness and vigilance seemed too great a risk, especially given the formidable examples surrounding them. Enoch readily conceded to Bliss’s words.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
****
“Are you certain you and Bliss didn’t put him up to this?”
Maxon grumbled, his face a picture of indignation, but Ethan merely scratched his cheek in response.
“It’s already submitted, so forget about it, Maxon. I’ll treat you to all the Asian sweets you can eat today.”
Ethan, who finally appeared after a full day’s rest, felt a pang of guilt for Maxon. Maxon, who had endured two days of unspeakable torment, now presented the report with eyes even more hollow than Ethan’s own. Nevertheless, Ethan possessed no such righteous conscience that would compel him to redo the arduous assignment himself. Instead, he had thoroughly utilized the assignment Maxon had painstakingly completed without sleep, grasping its contents before confidently submitting it. His guilt, however, was a separate matter. Thus, he resolved to buy plenty of Maxon’s favorite Asian sweets from a venerable artisan’s shop, one said to have been passed down for generations.
“Don’t underestimate an Esper’s appetite.”
Ethan merely shrugged, watching Maxon vow to consume an truly enormous amount. Compared to Iwol, who could devour dozens of kilograms of rice in a month, an Esper’s appetite seemed rather endearing.
“Welcome!”
True to a shop run by an ‘artisan,’ the counter staff were human, not robots. While the shop was bustling, robots efficiently handled order input and the delivery of sweets, distinguishing between takeout and dine-in patrons. Evidently, this system was implemented for precision and convenience. Despite the crowd, the shop exuded an elegant and warm ambiance.
“The variety is truly amazing.”
Ethan exclaimed in admiration. Asian sweets of every conceivable shape and kind—dasik, hwagwaja, senbei, tteok—were artfully displayed, each clearly priced. Noticing the sign indicating electronic menus were available at the tables for dine-in customers, they promptly ascended to the second floor. Kyle, who had been following a short distance behind, careful not to interrupt Maxon and Ethan’s conversation, also found his eyes gleaming with eagerness to purchase some delightful desserts for his wife.
[‘Tteok! How long has it been since I’ve seen tteok!’]
Even one of the gwi, who couldn’t resist sweets, was equally excited, peering intently at the menu.
“…It’s expensive.”
It was, indeed, expensive. But given the evident craftsmanship, the price was understandable.
Ethan, seeing Maxon’s irritating grin, despairingly pushed the entire menu across the table to him.
When the ordered sweets and tea arrived, Ethan swiftly picked up a peach-colored hwagwaja. He couldn’t let Maxon be the only one to fill his stomach after paying such a hefty price.
The hwagwaja, shaped and colored with natural dyes from vegetables and bean paste, was exquisitely delicious, proving the artisan’s reputation was well-earned.
“Now tell me. Is there really an ‘Oak entwined with Pinacaea’ in the Ancaster family?”
Maxon dropped the dasik he had been about to pick up. Ethan, with a lighthearted expression, explained that Doctor Sera had mentioned the Ancaster family used something called ‘Divine Tree’ to glorify their unique traits, and he wished to hear about it directly.
The Ancaster family’s stories were as numerous and fantastical as the founding Han Dynasty’s tales in Aitoolia, which was precisely why Maxon had casually chosen a dessert cafe as their meeting place. However, Ethan didn’t merely point out the generic term ‘Divine Tree,’ which referred to similar objects across the continent. Instead, he precisely named it: ‘Oak entwined with Pinacaea.’
“You… that…”
Maxon’s startled reaction to such an seemingly insignificant phrase even surprised Kyle a little. Maxon, who hadn’t even taken a bite of his sweet yet, quickly downed his now lukewarm tea.
“Before the land flipped, that is, before terms like ‘Esper’ unified the descriptions of superhumans, wasn’t it? If you look at ancient records, there are mentions of Druids.”
“…It’s the first time I’ve seen an outsider connect the dots that far.”
Maxon mumbled, looking bewildered, as Ethan refilled his teacup and smiled softly.
“I may not look it, but I’m a history student, you know?”
It was perhaps natural that the Han family, who predominantly produced Guides, and the Ancaster family, who produced Espers, both possessing similar abilities, held great interest in each other. Before he landed in this world, Ethan himself had heard that a similar family existed on another continent, primarily producing Espers rather than Guides, and seemed to be descendants of Druids. However, they only knew of each other’s existence, and without any interaction, the available information was abstract and ancient, likely containing many inaccuracies.
“It’s certainly not a warrior in golden armor and sandals.”
It seemed it wasn’t some crude item but rather golden eyes they were referring to. Well, that was…
“…Heh, stop it.”
Maxon winced, curling his fingers in discomfort at Ethan’s teasing.
“A Druid warrior, skilled in combat, brave, and capable of wielding various spells, even if somewhat brutal. He certainly seems like the kind of talent who could lead the largest unit.”
“Ughhh. Hey, that’s something our family is too embarrassed to even mention…”
Even Kyle chuckled, wiggling his fingers as if his limbs were curling up in embarrassment. Ethan, however, was quite serious. The one commonality between the Han family, who mostly produced Guides, and the Ancaster family, who produced Espers, lay in what they called ‘spells.’ It was subtly different from Summoner abilities, which were classified as one of an Esper’s powers.
“Then, does Maxon also possess the ability of ‘possession’ (憑依), allowing him to house multiple spirits at once?”
“…That’s quite a leap for a casual question.”
Ethan smiled playfully. Despite his attempts at a lighthearted demeanor, not a single one of the snacks placed before Maxon had diminished.
“Such discussions are fun for history students, aren’t they? I’m genuinely curious. Who else would I talk about this with?”
Maxon sighed deeply, picked up a hwagwaja Ethan had pushed towards him, and took a bite. The refined sweetness filled his mouth, making him feel considerably better.
“No, I don’t.”
“Oh, so someone with that ability actually existed?”
Kyle interjected, his eyes wide, and Maxon shrugged.
“I don’t really know either. After Vera Ancaster, Princess Anna Green’s first Esper fifty years ago, died in battle with the family heirloom ‘Black Oak,’ there aren’t many records, and everyone keeps quiet about it. My brother says the ‘Black Oak’ seems to be a staff, but he can’t understand why she would take such an old staff into battle.”
“…That must have been the Divine Tree.”
Ethan murmured. Maxon nodded, finishing the rest of his sweet.
“Precisely. According to records, ancient Druids would have crafted staffs from oak trees parasitized by Pinacaea, just as you said.”
[‘…Hey, Ethan. Surely not…’]
Ethan calmly tilted his teacup. What Dongja surmised was likely similar to his own thoughts. There was no definitive proof, but it was a strong intuition.
It seemed Princess Anna Green, along with the Ancaster family’s Esper Vera Ancaster, had gone to the world Ethan came from.
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