My Life as A Death Guard

Location: Barbarus, Morava Mountains, Mountain Peak.

Seven years had passed since they escaped.

During these seven years, the small village of Hailer Pass, near the Overlords’ territories, had long been overrun, while Mortarion and the resistance forces had moved to a new base on the northern plains.

The Death Guard resistance, led by Mortarion, was steadily growing. Initially, they organized forces to fend off nighttime attacks. But as time went on, more and more villagers joined them, and they quickly expanded this new base into the largest human territory.

In addition to organizing passive defenses at night, the resistance also began launching proactive strikes during the dim daytime, eliminating beasts and minor Overlords near human territories.

Now, the Death Guard, equipped with many elite warriors, even initiated attacks against the Overlords.

Hades stood on a secluded mountain path, gripping a scythe. Beside him was a fully armed girl holding a fire gun.

The girl was covered head to toe to ward off Barbarus’ poisonous mists, but her curvaceous figure and flowing black hair hinted at her gender. A few strands of black hair dangled from her gas mask, and she occasionally fired her gun, splattering the brains of the puppets fleeing down the path.

Hades remained silent, advancing with his scythe. The blade flashed, and the puppets, still staggering after being shot, finally fell.

“The battle above should be ending soon.”

Hades shrugged. The decreasing number of puppets indicated the fight between the resistance and Overlord Dray was nearing its end.

“Another tyrant will be held accountable for his past atrocities.”

Hades turned back. Despite the gas mask, he could tell the girl was smiling, smiling for the impending victory.

Hades was momentarily stunned.

The black-haired girl was Herila, his battle partner.

Long ago, before they relocated their base, during a village defense battle, Hades decapitated a festering hound that had eaten her father, saving her sister.

Since then, only she was willing to team up with Hades in battle.

Only her.

Others always hesitated to act with Hades; some even harbored inexplicable hatred towards him.

Hades had no idea why.

It wasn’t like his combat skills were terrible and dragging others down. His scythe technique was unparalleled—except for Mortarion, Hades was confident he was the best at wielding a scythe.

Except he couldn’t handle guns or other slightly technological weapons, which might have lowered his combat effectiveness.

For some reason, these weapons malfunctioned in Hades’ hands.

(Interaction with the Untouchable causes machine spirits’ displeasure)

After Hades broke the seventh good gun Mortarion handed him, Mortarion gave him a decent scythe with a dark expression,

“You’d better stick to melee combat.”

But he was great at close combat! Why didn’t they want to fight with him?

Not only that, but others at the base also avoided him, even though they welcomed and adored Mortarion.

Though Typhon, being a hybrid of alien and human, wasn’t very popular either, Hades had it worse!

To avoid this unwelcome atmosphere, Hades had to live in a small house at the base’s remotest corner. Except for Mortarion and Herila, no one came to see him.

Even Typhon didn’t come! And they were the three who led the resistance!

“Sorry, Hades, I just… always find you unpleasant.”

Was it his sharp tongue, causing him to keep offending people? Or was he naturally unlikable?

Hades admitted he was mildly troubled by this for a while, but soon he was over it.

Sometimes he dreamt of leading the resistance with Mortarion, becoming a high-ranking officer, and leading the people.

But honestly, Hades wasn’t someone obsessed with secular power or being adored by everyone.

He was just a recluse who enjoyed being alone, doing his hobbies freely.

So, this situation suited him just fine. Nobody bothered him much, and since everyone seemed to dislike him, Mortarion couldn’t assign him any administrative tasks. Hades spent his time on personal research, like continuing to develop his gas mask and drawing mechanical blueprints—despite his tendency to break machines, his designs were quite reliable.

During battles, he preferred finding a secluded spot to clean up stragglers with his scythe alongside Herila.

No intense combat, just leisurely skirmishes.

As the battle neared its end, he could even chat with Herila.

Hades felt—

Life was great.