There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 540

Chapter 540: Chapter 533. Unknown Memory Lane

The Iron Mountain, Tian Yu, was everything Zein thought the old man would be.

He was as old as the Horin Patriarch, but looked way younger. Rather than through pills and medication while dabbing on miasma, it was gained by living quietly on a mountain with fresh air and no commlink. The kind of life Zein would be onboard too.

He wasn’t as bulky as the other defenders Zein knew, but the firm muscle was palpable behind the loose shirt. Even after being inactive for almost four decades, the old man still kept his physique. Although, different from active espers, he was not as tense. There was this tranquility around him that Zein could see coming from living peacefully here, away from any drama.

The old man did need to cater to his needs himself, including hunting for meat and tending to his vegetable and herb garden. He also had to take care of the cabin himself, which was quite wide. However, those seemed to be the activity that maintained his fresh look and firm muscle.

Still, the eyes couldn’t lie.

The black eyes that were scrutinizing Zein seemed so deep and complex; carved with experience that brought both joy and sorrow. Things the old man saw and wished to forget, as well as things that he just found out a few days ago.

Right after Han Joon proposed the plan to ask the Iron Mountain for help, they sent him a small package; a commlink filled only with the information about House Althrea, as well as the Fallen Star. Both Han Joon and Radia weren’t really sure the old man would open it, but from the way he looked at Zein, it seemed that he actually did. _{freewёbnoνel.com}

"Hmm," he sat crosslegged on the open pavilion, propping his chin against his knee, and tapped his fingers on the other one.

"..."

It had been a few minutes since he had done nothing but stare at Zein and Han Joon, who were standing quietly in wait, unmoving. For the former soldier and someone who worked under one for around three years, it wasn’t hard.

"You look just like your father, but also not," the old man spoke after around fifteen minutes.

Zein didn’t say anything; he was wondering if the old man did it as a test, or merely going down memory lane.

"How should I say this?" the old man stroked his chin. "Alteroan is firmer, almost like this one," he pointed at Han Joon with his thumb, making the ex-soldier press his lips to muffle a laugh. "But unlike this one, he was very prim and proper, with the poise of a nobleman, and didn’t like to hide anything."

"He was groomed as such," Zein replied casually.

The old man’s brow twitched, but he just continued his ’assessment’. "You are...more delicate," he said, prompting Zein to arch his brow. "But also sharper--or should I say harsher?"

Again, Zein replied nonchalantly. "I grew up as such."

The courtyard was wrapped in silence again. The old man looked at the guide with sharp, keen eyes, but Zein met the gaze with the firmness he was known for. Han Joon, meanwhile, merely watched the staring contest in amusement.

Well, nothing they could do as the guests anyway.

In the end, the old man scoffed and stood up. "Come in," he said, before turning to walk toward the cabin.

Han Joon patted the guide’s back and smirked. "Hey, we pass."

Zein couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed like the whole staring down and commentary was indeed a test. It would be disappointing if they were rejected before even stepping inside the inner courtyard.

Still, being allowed to enter and actually gaining his favor were two different things. Han Joon, however, had told Zein to never mention it unless the old man asked about it himself.

Oh, well...he was going to treat it like searching for a fragment of his father’s past anyway.

They followed the old man through another gate, into an inner courtyard. There were several small buildings there, connected to each other with a corridor. Everything was made of wood; slotted together like a puzzle instead of using nails or glue. There was a table in front of a building with a chimney, which seemed to be a kitchen--and the old man led them there.

"Scatach’s boy, I’d like to eat your congee again," the old man said while climbing the elevated platform where the table was.

"Oh, how do you know I bring you fresh ingredients?" Han Joon chuckled and glanced at the guide. "Zein, you’re fine with abalone?"

"I can eat anything."

"Good, good," the old man nodded in satisfaction while patting the table in front of him.

Han Joon casually went into the kitchen as if it was his own house, while Zein took a seat across from the old man. A tray with teacups and a kettle on top of a mana-heating stone was there, and as the old man was busy making tea, they were engulfed in a silent, but not awkward moment.

Zein looked around the place while waiting, savoring the tranquility that was different from the tree fortress or the goddess’ sanctuary. A serenity that felt more humble, because it was made of nature’s resilience rather than enveloped in a deity’s blessing.