Death Frost | Deathsworn #2

Chapter 60 ❆ Prospects

Surprise!

Uploading an extra chapter to celebrate me finishing Death Frost! There'll be 87 chapters plus Epilogue.

Hell Snow is now serializing on my website. You can read all of this book instantly if you pledge to Celeste. But you can still wait because there's only 28 chapters left for this installment.

I know people complain chapters are slow to update here, but hey girl's gotta eat.

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The prospect of cooperating with Black Flame didn't make me excited—this was a lie, of course. Arondite seemed a rather capable person, and since he'd be enlisting my help, then that would mean I could take a step back and just let him take the wheel.

Previously, I was not very keen on cooperating with others since it reminded me of college work in my last life. More often than not, I was stuck with unreliable teammates and end up doing the entire project alone. At that time, I would hold a grudge and cross out the names of others from the project, reporting to the professor how they hadn't helped.

Although I knew not everyone must be like that, but I would really rather not go through the same trouble over and over again.

Huh. Must be one reason I was so hated before.

"Do you know you keep zoning out?" Arondite asked, looking displeased at my listlessness.

"Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking." I was rather confused about one thing. "Why me?"

I mean, yeah, I could understand it somewhat. But considering his attitude earlier, I didn't think he had that much faith in me.

"I feel you are more reliable."

I laughed. "Why, it flatters me to know I have entered your eyes," I teasingly replied. "So what do you want to do?" I asked. "Just so you know, I won't be using my brain much for this one. Since you're the one aiming for it, it'll be your call and I'll just be behind you."

Arondite frowned. "I don't know much about performance. I do not feel martial arts will have any value in performance at all."

"It should, but it's tricky," I said. "Our styles aren't very entertaining when performed, since it values function over aesthetics. If you capitalize on form alone, you're essentially sacrificing lethality."

"Right, then. Any ideas?" he asked.

I put my chin on my palm. "Don't you have any other hobbies other than martial arts?"

"I know bows and arrows."

I chuckled and fought the urge to roll my eyes. "You don't plan on shooting an apple sitting on top of my head or something, do you?"

His eyes glistened when I mentioned it.

I sat up straight, palms up in the air when I saw his unsaid affirmation. "Wait. Hold on about this."

I had completely disregarded the novelty of this idea in this world. Although pinning an arrow through the apple on top of someone's head was a thousand-year-old cliche from Earth, that didn't mean it was commonplace for this one.

"No! This is a horrible cliche!" I protested.

"If this is cliche, everything else is trash."

So I stood there shell-shocked, wondering what kind of hell I had gotten myself into while Arondite left for a few moments. He later came back with a bow and arrow as well as a bag of apples.

"Come on."

I stared at the table full of food in front of me with pity. "You cannot be serious about this," I whispered, with no hope of him changing his mind. Arondite's face was firm, and he exuded an aura similar to when I last fought against him. Determination—even arrogance. As though everything would work out.