* * *
But realistically, Ben also had to find Haimar.
If Elgran couldn’t stop Roilnia, then ideally, Ben needed to find Haimar before she did.
His insides twisted with anxiety.
Only together could they face that woman without worrying about Haimar losing control.
But Roilnia, oblivious to Ben’s thoughts, casually nudged the collapsed Irina Sheril with her foot and continued talking.
“Knew this one would be useless. Should’ve done her job before dying, really.”
“Oh… hell… that woman’s the one who egged her on. No way she had enough ability to pull this off on her own…”
Roilnia lazily rolled Irina Sheril’s body over with her foot, then leaned down with a sly, unsettling smile, locking eyes with Ben.
She whispered something to Irina, too softly for Ben to hear.
“Pathetic… at least… make yourself useful…”
Though Ben couldn’t make out the words, Irina Sheril heard them loud and clear.
Her eyelids fluttered faintly before falling still again.
For a brief moment, Ben was certain their eyes met.
Despite her blood-soaked hair and pale, fading complexion, it was unmistakable.
But before he could process what that look meant, his attention was yanked elsewhere.
Crack—
The marble floor was freezing over.
The blood pooled across the ground crystallized, transforming into a sheet of ice within seconds.
Snowflakes, both large and small, began drifting through the frigid air.
As the temperature plummeted, even the people locked in combat shivered and collapsed where they stood, momentarily freed from their hallucinations by the primal instinct for survival overpowering their altered perceptions.
“Looks like we’ve got company. Shame, I’m suddenly so busy.”
Roilnia brushed snowflakes off her shoulder, speaking with an air of playful inconvenience, utterly at odds with her composed face.
Her mockery was infuriating—Ben wanted nothing more than to hit her—but he couldn’t.
With a flutter of her hand, she vanished, disappearing just as irresponsibly as she’d appeared, slipping between space itself.
‘Damn it. I can’t let her get away…’
Time was of the essence, but Ben couldn’t move.
His anxiety boiled over as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
The sting faded quickly, buried under the pain of his gashed cheek and aching neck.
The only thing he could do was frantically press another piece of cloth onto Lus’s wound, layering it over the blood-soaked fabric.
But even that cloth quickly turned crimson.
No matter how hard he tried, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.
“Hey, Mr. Lusna, don’t pass out on me! You close your eyes, you die! Stay with me—open them, now!”
“Ugh… ngh… El… please… take care… of him… ngh…”
“Take care of what? You think I want to deal with Elgran falling apart after losing you? Keep your damn eyes open!”
“D-death… feels… s-so close… ngh…”
‘Death, my ass!’
Ben wasn’t giving up yet, and neither should Lus—especially not a man with someone he loved.
If Lus truly cared about Elgran, the last thing he should do was spout pointless “final requests.”
He needed to fight—to the bitter end, no matter how hopeless it seemed.
Lus claimed he needed to let Elgran go for Elgran’s sake, but if leaving like this only filled him with regret, did that really bring peace?
Would Elgran truly be happy without him?
Ben’s answer was a resounding no.
If Lusna Nigel genuinely cared for Elgran, this wasn’t the way.
“Be honest with yourself, Mr. Lusna. Can you really rest easy thinking Elgran will just move on with someone else? Because I sure as hell can’t handle an Elgran without you.”
“Ngh… ha… haha… guess that’d… be a problem…”
“See? All that talk about soul-bonding and fate—doesn’t it seem pathetic now?”
“I… thought… it was… for his sake… but… ha… now that death… feels so real… I hate it… Guess I’m selfish…”
‘Damn right you are!’
You’d only regret it anyway!
It seemed he only realized his true feelings when death loomed right before him.
Who knows how he’d been packaging his emotions all this time, but sincerity tends to surface in moments of desperation.
“It’s not selfish. It’s only natural. Focus on what you’re truly feeling right now.”
“Damn… Ha… I’m in your debt again…”
Confirming Lus’s feelings was good, but now snow was falling inside the room.
Heavy, bomb-like snowflakes that dyed the surroundings pure white, enough to make one forget they were indoors.
And this chill—this bitter cold—signaled the arrival of someone they all knew well.
“…Lus…?”
The cold, lifeless voice barely squeezed its way through the raging wind and snow.
It was so faint, so pitiful, it could’ve been missed entirely.
But the emotions within were so raw, so clear, that one couldn’t help but turn toward it.
“Lus… Are you… dying?”
Every slow step forward etched sharp footprints into the floor.
Elgran’s face bore cuts and bruises, likely from a fierce fight with Roilnia, but more telling than the injuries was his utterly broken expression—it spoke volumes about his current state of mind.
The snow by itself would’ve been manageable.
But the thick snowflakes now swirled into a raging blizzard.
With every step Elgran took, cloaked in seething cold, it felt like being pelted head-on by the full force of a storm.
Snow piled layer upon layer around them, and their hands and feet felt frozen, like standing in the heart of a northern gale.
Yet, in stark contrast to the brutal weather, Elgran stood eerily still—as though frozen by his own summoned chill.
Normally, one would expect him to explode in rage given the circumstances, but it seemed the shock was so overwhelming he couldn’t react at all.
His eyes, staring at his beloved Guide’s wounded body, reflected not rage—but fear.
“…No… Don’t die. Please… don’t.”
Elgran’s large, violet eyes, now brimming with tears, welled up until the drops spilled down.
The cold air froze the tears instantly, forming tiny crystals clinging to his chin.
More tears carved trails down his cheeks, unfazed by the biting wind.
Crack—!
Sharp ice spikes suddenly burst from the frozen floor, encircling Lus like a fence of deadly spears.
The spikes, forged from Elgran’s emotions, were solid and sharper than anything.
Nearby, even Ben and Enten were grazed and scratched by the indiscriminately spreading ice, but all they could do was watch as Elgran collapsed to his knees before Ruth.
“I… I should’ve done better. If I wasn’t so weak… Lus wouldn’t be like this…”
His normally pale skin turned even whiter—drained of all color.
Shaking like a leaf, tears pouring down, Elgran couldn’t even bring himself to touch Ruth.
The man who always seemed untouchable, unshakable, was now visibly drowning in a fear with no exit.
Boom—!!
As if in sync with his emotions, a massive ice pillar, conjured from who-knows-where, crashed into the wall, shattering and rolling across the floor.
The broken shards scattered toward Ben and Enten, while everyone else fell into a stunned silence.
Ironically, the only upside to this disaster was that those who had been hallucinating from Irina Sheryl’s psychic influence were finally quiet.
Espers’ powers are often overwhelmed by stronger Espers.
Though Irina Sheryl was a psychic Esper, the overwhelming power Elgran now radiated likely broke through her control, snapping weaker Espers out of their trance.
But the bitter irony was, they might all freeze to death before that really mattered.
“It’s not your fault, Elgran.”
The freezing gusts pouring from Elgran battered Ben’s body mercilessly.
The hand he had quietly placed on Elgran’s shoulder grew so numb it lost feeling, but Ben didn’t let go.
Instead, he gripped tighter, pouring every ounce of warmth he had into that touch, desperately hoping it would reach him.
“I should’ve killed her… If I had… Lus wouldn’t be like this… I’ll kill that woman… I’ll kill her.”
“Before that, don’t you think we need to save Lus first? He’s not dead yet.”
Ben’s calm words cut through Elgran’s rage, halting the explosion of emotion morphing into violence.
If Elgran lost control now, the situation would spiral beyond saving.
Even as Ben spoke, Roilnia was probably still searching for Haimar.
That bitter thought gnawed away at Ben’s insides.
His mind stayed cool, but beneath the surface, he was burning with impatience.
That’s exactly why—Elgran couldn’t lose control here.
It was time to retreat from this damn stage Roilnia created—with Lus.
* * *
