My Life as A Death Guard

Chapter 7.2: Don't Raise Flags if You're Just a Passerby



With no more monsters running down, Hades walked back to Herila, stabbed his scythe into the ground, and leaned on it, ready for a chat.

“That was quick. I thought it would be tougher.”

“His intel mentioned he was skilled in physic.”

Psyker were always tough opponents. The resistance had no Psyker of their own since Typhon never revealed his Psyker abilities. So, they had to rely on physical damage.

But with Mortarion, who could deal critical damage with one scythe swing, battles became simpler.

Without Mortarion, ordinary humans could hardly match these Psyker Overlords.

Their combat strategy was still Mortarion handling the elite enemies, with the human resistance dealing with the grunts, supporting Mortarion with ranged attacks and firepower.

Mortarion single-handedly changed the battlefield dynamics.

“Victory will belong to humanity. We can win.”

Seeing Hades relax, Herila lowered her gun, smiling at him.

“Last time I collected supplies, my sister helped out and got us some extra cheese. I made some cheese pastries. Want to come to my place later and share some?”

To be honest, Herila’s cooking skills were mediocre at best. Her food only qualified as “non-toxic.”

You might as well give me the cheese. Let me cook it instead.

Hades was internally crying, but he didn’t dare say it. Herila was one of his few friends, and he didn’t want to ruin their relationship.

So, he always ended up eating a lot of “non-toxic” food with tears in his eyes.

Feeling her eager gaze, Hades swallowed his complaints.

“Sure, I love everything you cook. That mushroom soup last time was pretty good.”

Pretty good? That stuff had a layer of purple unknown liquid floating on top!

“Great, I’ll pack the leftover cheese pastries for you.”

“You always seem to enjoy my food. I’m happy to cook for you.”

Herila shyly lowered her head, tracing circles on her gun with her finger.

“When lord Mortarion overthrows all the tyrants, and resources are no longer rationed, I’ll open a restaurant.”

“I’ll be the chef. Hades, will you come and help me?”

At this moment, Hades didn’t catch the underlying meaning, as his inner critic was burning brightly.

Girl, with your cooking skills, shouldn’t I be the head chef?

Also, don’t raise such obvious flags that might lead to trouble!

As if in response to Herila’s flag, the temperature around them suddenly dropped. The water puddles on the ground started to freeze, and frost quickly covered the ground.

Above them, space distorted, and a bloodstained, bone-crusted claw reached out from the rift.

In an instant, a heavily injured monster, roughly the size of a small car, appeared before them. Its basketball-sized eyes locked onto Hades and Herila, exhaling a foul stench from its bloody maw.

Damn it, Psyker teleportation!

Hades felt Herila stiffen beside him.

“Herila,” Hades said softly.

“I’ll hold it off. You run up and report to Mortarion that Lazar has escaped to this path.”

Hades assumed a ready stance with his scythe.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll just delay it and run later.”

“Go report, or everyone will die.”

The other resistance members were below. If Lazar got past them, it would be a massacre.

He planned to delay, hoping Mortarion would arrive in time.

—If not, he’d buy time, then fake his death or jump off a cliff to escape.

But this might worsen his already poor social relations.

Mortarion, please hurry and help, don’t make me fake my death. That’s too humiliating.

The desperate monster roared and lunged at Hades, its twisted claws swinging at his head!!

Hades shouted, blocking the claws with his scythe. The force numbed his arms, and sparks flew from the reinforced steel handle.

“Run, Herila!”

“Run!!!”


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