My Life as A Death Guard

— Barbarus + Northern Mountains —

Present.

Herila once had a very happy time.

If it wasn’t her turn for night patrol or war preparation, Herila’s day would start at dawn. She would get up, do a quick wash, then make breakfast (usually porridge), and wake her sister.

After a quick breakfast, Herila would grab her farm tools and head to the fields assigned to them outside the stronghold, while her younger sister, Laysa, would help with chores in the community.

After finishing the farm work in the morning, she would return to the village and participate in daily training, seizing the opportunity to chat with Hades.

Hades often dragged her into various topics, chatting about everything under the sun.

Herila listened happily, marveling at how Hades always knew such strange and interesting things.

After training, she would invite Hades to her home for a meal, and her invitation was almost always accepted.

Then she would happily watch Hades eat.

Speaking of which, Hades seemed very eager to teach her how to cook.

Of course, Herila could cook, just as she could easily shoot and kill monsters.

They grew closer.

Herila, of course, had her own little secret feelings, but she knew now wasn’t the time.

The Death Guard was working tirelessly, and everyone around her was doing their utmost to contribute to the construction of the stronghold.

Now wasn’t the time.

Now wasn’t the time to rest.

Once the last Overlord’s head was chopped off, Herila would confess to Hades.

She didn’t know if Hades would accept her, but….

Only she partnered with Hades, and there were no other women around him.

Herila knew her thoughts were too dark.

Someone as excellent as Hades should be liked by everyone.

But in reality, only Herila was willing to partner with Hades.

She was special, Herila thought to herself.

After killing the Xenos Overlord Lazar, Hades suddenly went south.

Herila looked at the letter over and over.

Idiot, who are you trying to fool with such a clumsy lie?

Tears streamed down her face, quickly soaking the already poor-quality letter, smudging the ink.

She didn’t want to cry.

Herila wiped her tears, pressing her palm against her eyes, hoping in vain that the tears would stop.

She believed Hades had his reasons for leaving. She believed in him, thinking he must have encountered something urgent.

But, but… Will we meet again?

When we meet next time, will both of us still be alive?

Barbarus is a cruel world where the average human lifespan is less than thirty, with many dying in their teens or even younger.

Especially during wartime.

Flames of war and smoke fill the air, how can my longing for you be cut off?

This parting could very well be a final farewell.

Hades, live on, live on, please, I beg you.

I will also strive to live on!

After Hades left, Herila trained even harder. The white calluses on her hands from farming tools thickened from daily war training.

To her delight, her physical condition improved after Hades left, and she no longer felt dizzy easily.