There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 644

Chapter 644: Side Story 2. Dance of Flame and Shadow - 3

The place was dark, darker than he thought. He would recognize the fear creeping into his heart if he wasn’t too proud to admit it.

But his young, scarred heart did not want to admit that he wanted to go back and forget everything. He didn’t want to say there was nothing left he could do and just give up.

And so he marched forward, with nothing but anger and pain fueling him. Shouldn’t he, at the very least, have closure? Did he not have the right to even that?

Anyway, the place was dark and eerie, but he could live with that. Objectively, the place was even compatible with his skill. He had come across several beasts and weird creatures earlier, but he was being smart and moving through the shadows, avoiding dangers. With this, he should be able to roam around the Deathzone as much as he could before using up all of his rations and having to get out again.

He wondered how many times he would have to go back and forth before finding what he was seeking...

"Ronan Hertz!"

The young scout had been planning to run away if any of the Unit’s personnel tried to catch him, but he didn’t expect one who knew his name would come. His first instinct was to flee, but he couldn’t help halting his steps because for a second--for a second of foolishness, he thought that voice belonged to the person he had been looking for.

For a foolish second, he thought that voice might belong to his father.

How stupid.

His father’s voice wasn’t that deep and hoarse--certainly not that loud and powerful. But he was also curious. Who could it be; who knew his name, and knew that it was him who had snuck into the Deathzone?

That few seconds of foolishness when he stopped and turned his head around, however, was the few seconds that another used to prey upon him.

Khieeek--

Ron threw himself to the side when he heard the low hissing behind him. He collected his mana, planning to use his prized shadow teleportation, but the creature attacking him was relentless, giving him no chance to concentrate.

"Fuck!"

That skill was something he newly gained as a reward for finishing the second-floor quest, so he had yet to master it thoroughly. He should be able to activate it instantly with high proficiency, but at that point, he was just a two-year-old career esper--just parrying the creature’s attack kept him on his toes, so he couldn’t even think of attacking back.

But he didn’t come inside this hell with a weak determination.

"Fuck you! You are not going to get me the way you get my father!" he snarled back at the hissing creature, who looked like it was made of a raging soul and tattered cloaks.

He didn’t just bark with his mouth, but with his whole body; he kicked the ground and used one dagger to defend himself while swinging another dagger toward the shrieking creature’s face. Fueled by nothing but anger and madness, he stabbed and slashed the creature’s limbs and pace frantically.

"Is it you? Huh? Are you the one who killed him?!"

When things seemed to lean to his side, the creature let out a dizzying shriek, and the fluttering rotten cloak slapped him with the force of a falling tree. He was flung toward a tree and only avoided breaking his back because of the artifact cuirass he wore beneath his shirt.

But what was the use of surviving spinal injury if his daggers were flung out of his hands? Before he could even take a breath, the creature had already rushed toward him with clawed hands and hissing laughter--until a blazing claymore struck the creature and flung it away from him.

With blurry sight and a dizzy head, he squinted his eyes at the incoming fire, which he soon found out was actually a man. Well, there was indeed fire on the person’s head. The ground shook as the man ran toward him and grabbed his head, staring into his eyes.

"Are you crazy?!" the man shouted at him, and he realized it was the voice who called out for his name earlier.

The man looked like he wanted to hurl a long, berating speech at him, but the creature wasn’t dead yet, and was shrieking in fury. Clicking his tongue, the man let him go and walked toward the blazing claymore. In a casual move that annoyed him so much, the man swung his claymore and cleaved the creature, burning it into nothing.

As if he was just coming back from stomping a bug, the man returned with a nonchalant gait. The dark eyes, however, were deep and sharp. "Are you Ronan?"

He pushed himself off the ground and grumbled. "I can kill it on my own."

"Sure," the man replied swiftly and repeated. "Are you Ronan?"