The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

The risk of their mission had risen again.

Faced with two different paths, the group did not know how to advance and stopped before the paths.

Zeke knew that they were waiting for his decision. But he couldn’t give one immediately since there was no guarantee that the other was safer or whether they’d end up with a dead-end.

What he was concerned about the most was that if he split up his small team of six, that could mean that their forces would end up being half as well. And in the face of danger, that would be fatal.

Zeke didn’t want to split.

The idea of dividing his already thinned-out team went against every instinct he’d built over years of surviving contaminated zones. But before he could voice his objection, Galithe spoke up first, her tone brisk and businesslike, as though she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

”We should split,” she said, gesturing at the two paths carved into the icy walls. ”It’s more time-efficient. If we all take one route and it turns out to be a dead end, we’ll have wasted precious time we might not get back. Split into two groups, cover more ground, and report back if either team finds something.”

The two other Sentinels in the squad, a lean man with a shaved head named Torrin and a stockier one named Feyd, exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. It made logical sense. Time was not a luxury they had when their missing comrades could be facing death at every passing second.

”I’ll go with the Admiral,” Ares said immediately, stepping toward Zeke’s side.

Galithe’s lips curved into something resembling a helpless smile. ”Lieutenant Ares, I understand your loyalty, but think about it logically. I’m a Guide. And I’m also a representative from the Federation. If something happens to me while unprotected, it won’t just be an unfortunate incident—it could strain relations between our organizations. Shouldn’t I be with someone capable of protecting me?”

Torrin rubbed the back of his neck, looking between Ares and Galithe. ”She’s got a point. Besides, if the Admiral has a Guide with him, that’s one less thing we all need to worry about. If his mental pollution builds up too fast in there, she can help regulate it on the spot.”

Feyd nodded along. ”Yeah, it’d take some of the pressure off you too, Ares. You’re not a Guide. If the Admiral gets overwhelmed and you’re the only one with him, there’d be nothing you could do.”

Ares’s jaw tightened. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell them that none of that mattered because Zeke had never once needed a Guide inside a contaminated zone, not in all the years Ares had fought beside him. He knew more things about Zeke than the rest of the squad did.

But Zeke said nothing to correct them, and he didn’t insist that Ares stay by his side.

With no order given otherwise, Ares had no choice but to yield. He shot one last glance toward Zeke, silently asking if this was really what he wanted, but Zeke’s expression remained unreadable, carved from the same cold stone as the tunnel around them.

”Fine,” Ares muttered, stepping back toward Torrin and Feyd. ”We’ll take the left path. Signal if you find anything.”

And so the group split. Ares led Torrin and Feyd down the left tunnel, their light tools casting long, jagged shadows against the icy walls until they disappeared around a bend. That left Zeke, Galithe, and a third Sentinel—a broad-shouldered woman named Gwen who rarely spoke but kept his weapon drawn at all times—to take the right path.

They hadn’t walked more than a few dozen steps before Zeke spoke, his voice as flat and cold as the frozen walls surrounding them.

”Don’t expect me to protect you just because you insisted on staying with me.”

Galithe blinked, caught off guard. ”Excuse me?”

”If we come across a survivor,” Zeke continued, not bothering to slow his pace, ”I will prioritize their rescue. If we come across one of my squad members in danger, I will prioritize them as well. You are responsible for keeping yourself alive. I suggest you remember that.”

The bluntness of his words stung more than she expected. Galithe forced a smile onto her face, swallowing down the humiliation curling in her chest. ”Of course. I understand completely. I did train back at the Federation, after all. I’m more than capable of defending myself if needed.”

But inwardly, she seethed. How dare he speak to her like she was some burden he’d been forced to drag along? She was an S-rank Guide. Sentinels across three star systems had begged for even a fraction of her attention. And here was this cold, unfeeling man treating her as though she were nothing more than dead weight.

She silently prayed that no survivors would appear before them. That his squad members, wherever they were, would simply not be found by their group first. Let Ares and the others stumble upon them instead.

Even better, they should all just die so that they didn’t have to go through the gruesome effort of rescuing them. Dragging their corpses back and throwing them back outside the dual contaminated zone would be the best outcome she wanted!

Their lives were nothing to her.

What was more important to her was how she could get this precious, uninterrupted moment to secure her place at Zeke’s side.

So, she tried to do her best at doing exactly that.

Sentinels can only be matched with Guides. That was a common sense that everyone knew, and thus, they both end up being codependent on each other. Guides expect Sentinels to protect them, while Sentinels expect the Guides to be their supportive other halves.

And since the number of Guides is lesser than that of Sentinels, most Sentinels would try to impress the Guides they like and want to pair up with.

When she first entered the Association’s headquarters, Galithe could sense the admiring gazes from Sentinels that she received. Even Ares gave her an appraising look and greeted her more affectionately.

Yet only Zeke Valaerion dared not give her any attention!

Galithe gritted her teeth, but she calmed down quickly. Her eyes sparkled with intent as she formed an idea on how she could get close to him!