There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171: [Bonus Chapter]A Serene Lake

It was like facing a mountain.

A big mountain. A big and sturdy mountain made of rock. They would hack, slash, bludgeon, rained magic, and yet the mountain still stood.

That was how it felt facing Alteroan Ishtera.

He stood tall, a man who seemed to be as large as a building, as large as the path they needed to pass to chase their other, main objective. He even had the skill to pull most of them into a frenzy and forgot everything but him. And even those who didn’t get affected got to face a troop who acted like a horde of zombies. No matter how beaten they were, no one let them pursue the remaining member of the clan and their objective.

And the worst zombie of them all was Roan Isthera himself. The Paladin. They wanted to curse the man so much, who continued to heal himself when they thought they would get him soon. Even as they rained poison at him, he heal himself, using a cure like a proper healer.

It was like facing the most annoying dungeon boss.

And as long as Roan Ishtera still stood, the rest of the zombies would get up and continue to fight. Even after losing their limbs, even after getting blind, even while barely conscious.

All because of that tall figure, standing fast and imposing with his tower shield.

But like every mountain, when they chipped at it enough time, dig into the dirt and the stones, it would crumble eventually. Like a dungeon boss, after shaving the massive health and stamina and draining its mana, the boss would die. Eventually.

And so, even though it took them hours to do it, Alteroan Ishtera still met his end.

As the men who followed him scattered lifelessly on the bloody field, Roan Ishtera fell to his knees. A broken shield in his hand, a broken body in the middle of crimson snow. The stormy eyes, which had gone blurry, stared blankly at the bloody field and fleeting snow.

Even in the face of death and his dying breath, the Paladin did not fall.

"Is he dead yet?" a cold voice resounded through the bloody field.

"No, but it should be any moment now. The fucker can’t even move anymore," someone answered the voice, followed by harsh poking to Roan’s temple, filled with cold, dried blood, like the rest of his body.

The man was right. Roan couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink or breathe. He was just tied with a thin string of life force. A dying ember of a life force as a testament to his tenacity.

"Why not just off him now and we can all go home?" another voice spoke in annoyance, kicking Roan’s side. Even then, the sturdy mountain didn’t falter.

"The Captain wants him to die slowly," the reply came with a shrug. "What about the woman?"

Roan twitched--or he thought he twitched, although it was pretty impossible for him to do that now. His hardly beating heart was waiting anxiously, along with his nonfunctional lungs.

"No dice."

"How fucking hard it is to catch a pregnant woman?!" a man spat out, with breath full of poison and filth.

Ah, so they hadn’t managed to catch Lucia. The corner of the Paladin’s lips twitched--for real now. At least, he wasn’t dying in vain.

"It’s because of this stupid tank!" a shard of broken shield struck the side of Roan’s head. But he couldn’t feel anything anymore, even as fresh blood flowed down his face and painted his already blurry vision red. "It’s humiliating enough that I had to call other divisions for help!"

Ah, that didn’t sound good; Roan would have sighed if he could. But it was getting even harder for him to hear them, or to gather any sensible thought, actually. He heard shouting for a while, but he couldn’t make out any coherent sounds anymore. Them being angry was a good sign, at least, that Lucia and the others hadn’t gotten caught.

At least, these people didn’t die in vain.

People who stubbornly said they would follow him anywhere instead of going to safety. Ah, what adorable fools, you all were. Perhaps we could dine and drink together in the afterlife, watching the others lead their life.

Watching his son.

Ah, his son. Roan wished he could at least meet his son once. Perhaps he could be a ghost for a while, so he could see how his son grew up, maybe haunted the child’s dream a little if he strayed from his path.

Oh, how funny. He never thought he would have this kind of thought in his dying moment. He didn’t think he would have any thought at all. Perhaps because he didn’t think they would just leave him like that, dying slowly, instead of just crushing him to death.

Was it intentional, to make his last moment excruciating?

He couldn’t actually feel anything at all, though, the cold making everything numb. Perhaps he should feel a little bit grateful for this moment.

Because it let him see it; a flurry of blossoming petals. It might be his wedding day, or it might be the bloody snow, who cared.

But he saw smiling faces, of his and Lucia’s. His sweetheart. Oh, his Sweetheart. It must have been so hard for her, traveling with their child in the midst of snowy winter. His lovely, strong Sweetheart. She gave him a smile on their parting moment, even while tears were streaming from her face.

He promised her they would be together again, but she knew--they knew--it was a lie. A hopeless prayer. He had a slight hope that he could fulfill it, but...