There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 331

Chapter 331: Chapter 323. Collaborator

Sixty-three years ago, he was born as Darleon Horin. Twenty-two years later, he was just Darleon, and it wasn’t until six years later that he took his wife’s surname, becoming a Belthera.

From the youngest direct descendant of an Old House to an exiled, Darleon had gone from riches to rag, and gained a name for himself without the help of his family. It was exactly as he wanted; it was the whole reason he threw away his family name.

The House of Horin wasn’t too well known in public, unlike the House of Mallarc and Caishan. They did not dabble in commerce or politics, where eyes easily fell on them. They dedicated themselves to the exploration of the world’s history, uncovering mystery of the Old Days. That being said, for some reason, they held enough power to bend the government and public figures to their will. It was a House that had power in silence, away from public knowledge.

Perhaps because of that, no one knew who Darleon was when he ventured unnamed to the world. And to this day, the people outside the House who knew he used to be a Horin could be counted with one hand. Consequently, no one knew why he would throw away his position and abandon the name of Horin.

The truth, for Darleon himself, was more boring than anything.

He was fed up. He was just fed up with everything happening in that House. The constant infighting, the relationship that didn’t feel like it happened between blood, the obsession about maintaining power...

Ever since he was old enough to hold weapons, he was told that he might be killed if his older brothers felt like he was a threat to the official heir position. Little Leon was confused; he had never wanted to be a patriarch, he just wanted to play with his siblings like the kids in the school did.

But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a threat as long as he did not awaken. But he did, and he became just another target. His older siblings, who were supposed to be his protectors in a more benevolent world, became his biggest source of danger instead. Constantly, he was faced with slander, poisoning attempts, traps inside dungeons, and things that could kill him anytime. It didn’t matter that he had no intention of being the heir, he was still a possible candidate, and thus, he was still in the pool of contestation.

The only way for him to get out of that pool was...well, to get out of the clan housing that pool in the first place.

But doing so would mean leaving his mother behind, the only person who showered him with the love that a son should receive. And so he held on; he held on until he was blue in the face, just like how he held on in Celestia later on despite the internal politics going against him at every turn.

He held on, until he didn’t have to. Once his mother was no longer there in the world to keep him sane, he voluntarily left the clan; left the family that never felt like a family, left the House with nothing but the name his mother gave him.

Darleon fought; climbed the towers and cleared dungeons like a madman in frustration of finding out what he should do in this world. He joined other espers, worked together, and before he knew it, he became the leader of a group. The group grew to be a reputable guild, and the guild merged with four other guilds he knew well and became Celestia. His righteous, dependable figure led him to be chosen as the Guildmaster to this combined might of the number one guild in the Eastern Federation.

He thought, at last, he could leave the shadow of his birthplace.

And yet, the shadow came back to him through his son.

He knew Varion was ambitious. Despite having everything since his birth; wealth, power, affection—or probably because of it—he grew up to be someone who was constantly in need of feeling superior over everything. One of those desires, Darleon realized, was to best Radia Mallarc.

One could argue that by becoming the Guildmaster of the number one guild in the Eastern Federation, he achieved that already. But even if he could be better than Radia Mallarc in everything, there was one thing he would never be; the heir to an Old House that held the power to shift the Federation.

But what if he actually had a chance to be one?

Darleon still remembered the day his son spat and cursed him after finding out that he was supposed to be the youngest son of the current Horin’s patriarch. And he could easily imagine what this had come into.

With a distressed sigh, he called his son after thinking about Radia Mallarc’s proposal for the whole night. "Rion, I need to talk to you," Darleon spoke to the commlink and waited, and waited, and waited. But while the call went through, there was no answer from the other side.

He ended the call and sent a text with the same message. When there was no answer even after an hour, he took his car and drove to Varion’s house while calling his son over and over again. With the rows of glaring red unanswered calls, the anxiety inside the father’s heart piled up until it felt like choking him.

He hurried himself to the quiet, dark residence. Countless broken pieces of glass and scattered furniture told him what state of mind his son was in. When he entered the second floor, he could hear an eerie sound of mumbling, and he followed it toward the bedroom gallery.

And there, inside the dark bedroom, he found his son, the Guildmaster of mighty Celestia, crouching beneath the blanket while biting his nail, murmuring to himself over and over again.

Should I use the whole guild? Yeah...let’s just attack Trinity and kidnap the guide during the chaos...doesn’t matter if the guild is in ruin...yeah...as long as I can get in...as long as I can get in...

Darleon closed his eyes; his lips, heart, and fingers quivering in defeat.

* * *

"But how do you know about that?" Zein asked after hearing the House’s name, which also reminded him that he probably should start studying these Old Houses. "How do you know they are the ones behind Varion?"