* * *
‘Gaspar.’
Batista’s mentor, the wandering knight who took him from the temple.
Stripped of his knighthood, now an adventurer.
The merchants in the marketplace who had met him only had good things to say, yet for some reason, his reputation was mixed.
For some reason, Batista was extremely wary of him.
All the information available was frustratingly vague, making it impossible to grasp what kind of person he was.
Even his appearance was ambiguous—so much so that the market folk couldn’t agree on whether he was young or middle-aged.
But if he had taken Batista from the temple ten years ago, then he couldn’t be that young anymore.
That was the most I could deduce.
Gaspar, despite Batista’s blatant wariness, smiled as if nothing was wrong.
With a gentle expression, he stepped closer.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been?”
Yes, gentle.
That was the only way to describe it.
Gaspar spoke in a voice filled with warmth—a tone that could never come from someone who had parted on bad terms.
There was undeniable affection in it.
“Get lost while I’m still asking nicely.”
In contrast, Batista’s response was sharp and unwavering.
Still, was it because Gaspar was his mentor?
If he was truly pissed off, that explosive, bristling energy of his would’ve already come out in full force.
That said, this wasn’t exactly respectful behavior toward a teacher either.
How was ‘Get lost’ supposed to be asking nicely?
If this was the polite version, what the hell was he planning next?
I had been waiting for a chance to meet Gaspar, yet the situation was quickly turning into a disaster.
The tense air between Batista and Gaspar was so thick that I didn’t dare to step in.
If I ran my mouth carelessly, Batista—who was glaring at his mentor like he was ready to put a hole through him—would definitely not let me off easy.
“…Ah. You’re still upset. I suppose you were really disappointed in me. It’s been so long, I got carried away and spoke too casually.”
The ever-present, shameless smile on Gaspar’s face faded, replaced by a lonely expression.
What the hell was this?
There was something that happened between them, wasn’t there?
Something Gaspar did to disappoint Batista?
But what?
If I asked now, I’d just be outing myself as the most clueless idiot in existence.
“Don’t you want to leave on your own two feet?”
…Wait. Was that a threat?
Like, if you don’t walk away, I’ll make sure you do—by force?
Can he even do that?
Wouldn’t that be way out of line?
He’s still his mentor!
And isn’t that just outright picking a fight?
Throwing someone out like that is basically declaring war!
Sure, I had moved the conversation to a quieter corner of the market, but we were still near the marketplace.
Two adventurers brawling in the middle of a busy street?
No way in hell!
I turned pale, but Gaspar didn’t back down.
“I understand that you’re angry, but causing a scene in the market wouldn’t be wise. Instead of this, why don’t we step inside a restaurant and talk properly?”
…Damn.
That was very reasonable.
So reasonable, in fact, that I unintentionally felt a little more favorable toward him.
He seemed used to considering others, his demeanor openly warm toward people.
Unlike Batista, who stubbornly kept his mouth shut.
“W-Well, it is bad to just stand here glaring at each other…”
Thanks to Gaspar’s suggestion, I finally had an excuse to speak up.
Carefully, I stepped beside Batista and opened my mouth.
“Why don’t we at least listen to what he has to say?”
A sharp glare shot my way.
My instincts immediately screamed at me to shut up.
I shrank back, lowering my gaze.
B-But I was making a valid point!
…That doesn’t make him any less scary, though.
“…Haha. I suppose it’s no surprise you hate me after what happened. But I regretted it, you know. I should have explained things better so that you wouldn’t misunderstand.”
‘Misunderstanding?’
Even in the oppressive atmosphere that kept me from speaking up, that word stood out.
So there was some sort of misunderstanding?
If we cleared it up, would Batista actually recognize his mentor’s feelings?
My heart, which had been pounding anxiously due to the tense situation, was now tinged with a strange excitement.
“This meeting is fate. At least let me finish my story. If you still don’t understand, I promise I won’t bother you again.”
Good, good!
Gaspar spoke in a voice filled with lingering regret, the kind that made it impossible to outright refuse.
It was a stark contrast to the shameless charm he had displayed when we first met, begging for food.
If he, someone who always seemed cheerful, was showing such sadness, it had to mean he genuinely cared about Batista.
And despite telling him to get lost, Batista hadn’t actually thrown him out yet.
Maybe—just maybe—that was proof that he didn’t completely hate his mentor?
I glanced at Batista anxiously.
“…Just this once.”
His expression twisted.
Ah, seriously, just once! Just one time!
I wanted to say it out loud, but I wasn’t brave enough for that.
If I were the kind of person with that level of resolve, I wouldn’t have stolen Batista’s chance at regression just because I was too impatient to wait.
“…Ah.”
Gaspar, who had been watching Batista closely, suddenly turned to me.
Recognizing me, he gave a slight nod.
Awkwardly, I nodded back.
With how hostile Batista was being, it didn’t seem like a good idea to openly acknowledge any familiarity with Gaspar.
“…But I’m relieved.”
Gaspar glanced between me and Batista, a small smile appearing on his lips.
“You’ve made a friend. I always worried you’d be lonely, stubbornly keeping to yourself. But after talking to him, I can tell he’s a good person.”
That was true.
Batista was always alone.
As if he didn’t need anyone.
If Gaspar truly cared about him as his mentor, it made sense that he’d worry.
No matter how strong a person is, they can’t do everything by themselves.
Should I be happy that I got a ‘good person’ evaluation from the Hero’s mentor?
But then—
“Don’t say things so carelessly.”
A seemingly ordinary sentence.
But the moment those words left Batista’s lips, a violent intensity erupted from him.
Even I, used to his fierce presence, flinched in shock.
It was overwhelming.
I could see the people around us shrinking back in fear, so I quickly grabbed his wrist.
Batista, who had been clenching his fist tightly, hesitated for a moment before finally releasing his grip.
But the searing hostility in the air didn’t fade so easily.
Even as his mentor, Gaspar couldn’t withstand it and trembled.
However, unlike ordinary people who would have collapsed in fear, he merely staggered, forcing himself to stay upright as he looked at Batista.
“…I told you before. Losing control like this is a bad habit. You still haven’t fixed it.”
…Damn it.
He was right.
“Bati, you’re strong, but you’re still immature. More than strength, you need the warmth of others—”
“Shut up.”
Batista cut him off coldly.
He mercilessly shook off my hand from his wrist and strode toward Gaspar.
I tried to grab him again, but it was already too late.
Batista’s eyes, now fully consumed by rage, had settled into an eerily cold stillness.
“The one who needs to fix their damn head is you.”
With those words, laced with condensed emotion—
Gaspar went flying through the air.
“Batista!”
He actually sent his teacher flying!
That bastard!
My mouth fell open in shock.
* * *
