There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 168

Chapter 168: Chapter 163. The Blood of Heroes

In the history book, there were sixteen well-known names during the age of the apocalypse. Names like [Caishen], which belonged to the Federation’s President, or [Mallarc]. Names that surfaced with the merit of preserving the civilization during the era of chaos. Names of Heroes. _{freewёbn૦νeɭ.com}

But inside the old book that old Houses like the Mallarc had, where more detailed information about the era was archived, the names that came up were more than that. But those names vanished along with time; they were either lost in history as the persons did not leave a legacy behind, or getting crushed under the changes of the era. There were also those who were getting purged by others, those that lost their way, and those that lose power because of internal struggle.

House Ishtera was one of them.

Radia, who had been listening to the whole conversation happening in Mimera, had immediately gone through his family’s old archive. As someone blessed with perfect memorization, he remembered the name he read once when he flipped through old books in the main mansion’s library.

But it had been so long, decades, probably more than a century since the name of Ishtera had significance. They were prominent during the early new age, as the House protector of honorary Saintess for the Temple of Freyja, which was located near where the headquarter of the Sentinel Association now stood.

And then something happened internally, which the writer mentioned to be [...A split of principal ideology between the main clan and the vassals]. The main clan, the House of Ishtera, was exiled from their own estate, and drowned into obscurity.

It was clear now that the Templar of Arms Master was referring to this clan. It was an organization formed by Arlan Ishtera and the members of his group during the age of apocalypse. With the House of Ishtera as the pillar and five other subsidiary families, they continued the movement faithfully until the split happened. A betrayal from four subsidiary families, where they poisoned the main clan and almost erased the House of Ishtera from the continent.

"Well, obviously they did not succeed," Radia commented as he scanned the old book’s page into his digital archive.

While the Ishtera was indeed severely weakened, they managed to build their force again, and launched enough attack to smuggle out the honorary ’Saintess’, although it ended up with her disappearance. And just after they recovered the descendant of the missing Saintess, they were purged once more. And yet...

"Once again, the blood of Ishtera persists," the crimson eyes curled as Radia closed the book, thinking about his adorable kids in Mimera.

* * *

"Master Roan was...is, supposed to be the clan head of the House Ishtera, should he still be alive..."

Should he still be alive--the way the Elder said it made it seem like the old man greatly wished that Roan Ishtera would walk through that door one day, even though it had been twenty-eight years since the Golden Viper recorded his death in their logs. There was something about this that did not settle right with Zein, as if the old man saw him as Roan’s incarnation.

Which, from how eerily similar they looked, might be possible. The only difference between them was their eyes and height; Roan was more or less as tall as Bassena, which probably had a big influence on why Zein had a bigger build than any other guides. The man’s eyes as portrayed in the portrait, were akin to a storm; a deep grey with specks of black and blue, and a glint that looked like lightning flashed through them.

"We don’t know if it’s because of Sir Arlan’s pledge, but all of Ishtera’s heir awakened as defensive-type espers," the old man continued. "Thus, we always refer to them as the Paladin."

Not only that they had a high defense, but they also had healing abilities, which explained how Roan could hold off the Black Viper’s entire squad for so long, even taking so many to their graves, which allowed Lucia to completely vanished from the radar, as well as for the remnant of the household to run away and hide.

"I had been serving Master Roan since he was a baby," the old man threw a glance toward the direction of the great hall, where the framed portrait was. His eyes were filled with sadness and regret, even while his lips stretched into a smile. "He was always a good child, and growing up into a great man; hard-working, patient, principled--although he could be very stubborn sometimes. He was kind, too kind, that he’d prioritized others too much."

Bassena couldn’t help but turned to look at Zein then. It was just like...if people asked him to tell them about Zein, he would probably use the same description. Of course, he had no idea how much this old man exaggerated the fact within the rose-tinted glasses he always wore when talking about his ’Master’. But then...Bassena also had his own bias when it was something about Zein.

"It was Master Roan’s idea to build this factory, this house--our hidden fortress for emergency retreat," with a long sigh, the old man lowered his head. "I still wondered if...if he already knew that kind of thing would happen, and made an appropriate measure ahead of time..."

The Elder’s voice was getting fainter, the last word uttered in a slight tremble as if he was drowning in self-regret. Bassena almost thought the old man would cry again, but the middle-aged man Senan already patted the old man’s back. "Elder..."

The old man snapped back and lifted his head. "Oh, forgive me, I’ve digressed..."

Don’t run. It’s fine.