There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)-Chapter 473 - 466. Scar and Jest

The blow was heavy. And numerous.

The Specter, who was born from the Star itself, had no idea a human with this kind of power existed. It had parried the scythe and corroded it, shattering the flimsy thing with its power. But the human merely summoned another one, and when it wasn’t enough, he coated his fist with dense mana and pummeled the Specter without stopping.

Was this human didn’t get tired?

The Specter couldn’t understand. The human used darkness--from the scythe that kept swinging, the stakes appearing in the air, the thorns sprouting from the ground, the giant serpent rampaging on the field...even the barrier surrounding him. Everything was made of darkness, just like the sky and the space and the Specter itself.

And yet, it was different. The darkness, if the Specter could understand it, was pure. It wasn’t murky, it wasn’t stifling. It was imposing, it was unyielding, and, as weird as it was, the darkness was shining.

And amid that darkness were those pair of amber eyes. There was definitely anxiety and fear in those eyes, and yet, the fire blazed and directed only at the Specter. At the end of that gaze were all the piercing darkness assaulting the Specter again and again.

At first, it could easily parry the attack, even countering it. When the strike became heavier too, the Specter still confidently matched the pressure. But as the attacks became heavier and more frequent, it started to gnash its teeth--or whatever equivalent to that. More and more, as the Specter’s miasma started to dwindle, the human showed no sign of stopping.

It was as if he had an abundant source of mana.

The Specter roared and cast its illusion domain, trying to isolate itself while absorbing the surrounding miasma. But instantly, its effort was thwarted by the human.

"It’s payback," the human snarled and rained down dozens of huge stakes as if trying to turn the Specter into a pin-cushion.

Of course, the Specter had no idea what a pin-cushion was.

The Specter growled and frantically tried to absorb the surrounding miasma to replenish its source of power, but it was hard to do it as the human threw huge thorn after huge thorn and broke the Specter’s concentration.

"This has gone long enough," the human said and suddenly called back the giant serpent behind him. All of the mana contained in that giant serpent was now on the human’s right arm, where the protective black scales became even more defined and shining, even in the murky darkness of the Deathzone.

The Specter made a sound it never expected it could let out; a panicked one. With the serpent called back, the Specter could feel the sharp increase of mana in that dreadful fist. It slid back, trying to get away, but was immediately snatched by a pair of dark hands. The hands didn’t fling it hard like before, but keeping it in place.

A screeching sound filled the field as the arm, dense with mana, started to shift into the shape of a serpent. The dark serpent opened its maw and stabbed into the Specter that no longer had enough miasma to protect itself with a barrier. With a shrill scream, it felt the serpent grabbed into its core--its very source of life--and ripped it away.

Like a fuse getting stomped, the scream stopped, and only the leftover sound was echoing through the field. The Specter, no longer connected to its source of power, disintegrated without delay; its dark, shadowy cloak crumbled into the murky air.

As if losing their sense of reason, the beasts ignored any order and rampaged even more. Be it the humans or other beasts, they attacked blindly, like lighting up their last spark.

And then, at one point, everything came to a stop.

No scream, no growl, no howl--nothing. Slowly, the only sound that could be heard on the field was of heavy breath.

Finally, there was a sound of crying.

The espers, who had been breathing heavily in a daze, stirred. They looked back, at the chaotic rear guard, and the remnant of the lesser specters, as well as the wights, around where the guides and the supports were. They felt their heart stop for a while, and started to count the number of people.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be missing or lying unconscious.

No one back there, at least. One support magician sat on the ground, pale, head down, with drained-out mana. The guides were clutching their weapons as well as their Captain while shaking and crying. But at least, no one seemed to get hurt.

Not so much with the espers facing the flood of beasts endlessly.

"Bring all of the injured here!" Kei shouted in the middle of an emergency tent she erected in a hurry, while the scout from Hagalaz activated a purification device--a short activating one, which could only operate for two hours at most, and had the smallest range. But it could be deployed in five minutes, unlike the usual purification device.

Some of the espers had already fallen unconscious in the middle of the battle, and had to be carried back before. None--not one, had left unscathed. While the support magicians managed to protect them from the poison of the wave of miasma earlier, it was impossible to dodge and parry when they were surrounded by berserking beasts from all sides.

Thankfully, however, no one seemed to be in mortal danger--thanks to the upgraded equipment they all received before marching to the Deathzone. The unconscious ones mostly fainted from exhaustion or blow to the head, and the rest of the wounded were still on the range of one to third-degree injury.

That was, until Gus and Ashur came to the aid station carrying an armless Zhan.

The guides, who were staying near the aid station to take refuge in the temporary safe-zone, flinched. As people who worked alongside espers, they were no strangers to wounds, but...it was their first time looking at a severed hand--which Gus brought in his other hand.

While they were looking in dread, however, they heard Han Shin speak nonchalantly. "What? You really lose an arm?"

"See? This is why I told you to speak carefully," Gus said. "Your jinx is strong."

"Hey, be honest. You were secretly wishing for more fight, right?" Ashur kicked the laughing Spearman’s legs, who once again couldn’t move from muscle spasm. "That’s why we got caught in this, right? Huh?"

The words seemed accusatory, but the tone was light, and everyone who heard it laughed while throwing wrapping paper off the energy bar they had just eaten at the cackling Spearman.

The guide watched it while blinking in a daze, still very much shaken from the experience. But the sound of laughter, while they didn’t quite understand it, helped soothe their fear somewhat. Also, they watched in wonder how Han Shin attached the severed hand seamlessly, with strings of mana from his ten fingers, stitching the arm and the shoulder without a hitch.

"Heh, you’re in luck, huh? If it’s crushed instead of severed, you will be out of commission for at least two days."

"Hey, hey--if it’s going to crush me, I’d already run away," Zhan grinned. "I know what injury to pick."

"Wouldn’t it be better to not get injured in the first place?" Gus rolled his eyes.

"Don’t say pathetic shit. What kind of warrior running away from injury?"

"A nimble one."

"...fuck, you got me there."

"Heh--skill issue."

"The hell?!"

Dheera blinked her tears away. He couldn’t believe that only a few minutes ago, they were in a life-and-death situation. How could they jest and poke at each other while their injury was still fresh? Her hand was still trembling even now.

"Are you alright?" Zein crouched in front of the guides after coming back from doing his round, looking for espers with a dangerous level of corrosion.

The guides looked at their Captain. Zein too, was looking unfazed. Especially now, after the man took off his goggles and mask--he just looked like usual, despite guiding more than them, and had been facing the wights and the lesser specters a few times too before the fight was really over.

"Are you, Captain?" Leehan asked with a slight tremble in his voice. He was, after all, the one who got so close to getting hit by the lesser specter.

"I’m fine," Zein stroked the younger guide’s temple. "Do you need anything? Do you have your drink?"

They took out their water bottle from their toolbelt--a movement they were doing in trained reflex--and nodded.

"Drink," Zein said. "It’s fine to drink a lot. There won’t be any more creatures around here, and we’ll be going to the city ruin soon to build our first headquarters. You’ll be safe for the time being."

They nodded again and drank their water, moving in a daze like a doll.

Well...they had been through something traumatizing. A near-death experience like that, and it would be their first time killing something for real too. Even if it was something that was about to kill them, there would always be an unsettling feeling in their heart.

For now, it was enough that they were still moving well and responding. Zein let them process the experience and guided them through it, asking about their feeling and such. He had to know if they were well enough to continue, or whether or not he had to send them to the dome.

After all, they had to cleanse the espers soon, once their system was done digesting everything. They had to get ready to defend the place once the headquarters was established, and ready to go out to continue their conquest afterward.

It was cruel to ask them of it now, but Zein had no other choice. It was their job; it was what they were signing for.

Thankfully, they were all saying they would still go. They were only shaken, nothing more. They would be fine after a while; perhaps after a glass of warm sweet drinks.

Zein patted their heads with a gentle smile on his face. "I’m proud," he said, and the guides started to show their smile one by one.

And soon, Bassena came back from his venture--still with skin covered in black scales and an eerie dark purple orb in his arm--which no longer looked like a snake.

"The ruin is empty," he said the moment his feet touched the ground. "We can build the headquarters right away."

"...can you like, let us rest for a bit?"