Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 1070: Section 674: Art (4)_2

Chapter 1070: Section 674: Art (4)_2

"Don’t belittle yourself like that, Mr. Lin, you all are great too." The girl smiled as she spoke.

"I am not great." Lin the Sage smiled and retorted: "If I were great, I wouldn’t stand by powerless as civilization falls."

"But this isn’t about the people of your era; contrariwise, it is your generations’ repeated sacrifices that truly save this world." The girl smiled and shook her head, catching up with Lin the Sage: "Speaking of which, they never discovered the problem with your body."

"They have only seen the living, but never witnessed the living dead; it’s quite normal, isn’t it?" Lin the Sage stopped on the steps, looking at her: "Just like you, who would know that you are Fate."

"Yes, just like this world, apart from you, only Malin can look me in the eye." At this, the girl laughed.

In the next second, she disappeared from Lin the Sage’s sight.

Before leaving, she left a message for the Sage: "Someone’s grown bold, I’m off to discipline him."

Lin the Sage stayed behind in silence for a moment, then smiled and continued his journey.

Sometimes, he really envied the Zhaos, being able to let go of burdens early; though it’s excessive to say so, he really was tired.

So even robots get tired, huh?

......

"Sister, where did you find this Westlander guy, he’s terrifying, that’s the tenth bowl of dumplings now." The middle-aged man beside Meng Quyi asked with an admiring tone.

"Found him from the Westland." Meng Quyi replied with the same admiring tone.

Currently, she was at a gluttonous competition, where everyone used their stomachs as weapons to fiercely compete in public, and Malin was leading the charge.

Malin, being a Half-blood of the Frost Giant, was born a glutton, and with his Transcendent abilities... Meng Quyi felt Mr. Malin had yet to unleash his full appetite.

Watching the match end with the last challenger’s withdrawal in defeat, Meng Quyi sighed—because she saw that Mr. Malin had stopped eating.

It wasn’t that Mr. Malin felt full, but rather that he felt the competition was over and there was no reason to keep eating for free... How could such a monster be defeated?

Seriously, you, a Legendary figure, still come to bully people?

With such a sigh, Meng Quyi frowned as she watched Mr. Malin descend with his prize money, intending to say something, only to see him place both the prize money and all the change from his pocket into a donation box beside him.

That box was for donations to all orphans.

"Thank you!" The child watching the box had never seen such a large donation and was flustered until Mr. Malin conjured a piece of cake from thin air like magic: "Here, child, this is an encouragement for you to fulfill your responsibility."

"Thank you, sir." The child took a bite of the cake without hesitation and was immediately conquered by the deliciousness, smiling happily.

Mr. Malin bid him farewell, then returned to Meng Quyi’s side: "Sorry, I intended to share some prize money with you, but I thought those kids might need it more."

"Yes, I don’t mind." Meng Quyi truly didn’t mind, Mr. Malin’s actions exceeded her imagination, though it didn’t surprise her he did so.

Because this was Mr. Malin, a child picked up on the street by his adoptive father, the red-clad High Priest of the Goddess of Harvest, the most kind-hearted person to children.

Him doing this was the most normal thing for Mr. Malin, according to Meng Quyi.

Just recently having doubts, really sorry, Mr. Malin.

With awkwardness, shyness, and touched feelings, Meng Quyi wrapped her arm around Malin’s: "Where shall we go next?"

"I heard there is a shrine belonging to me. Let’s go take a look." Mr. Malin’s face was full of curiosity.

As a gentleman, he asked Meng Quyi like this.

Meng Quyi sighed inwardly—Mr. Malin was great in every way, except for this tiresome curiosity for spectacles.

What is your own shrine? That’s True Lord Malin’s, not yours, you idiot.

Despite the complaints, Meng Quyi eventually nodded: "No problem, I’ll take you there."

Oh well, let’s just watch the spectacle, after all, no one could recognize Malin anyway.

Thinking about it, the True Lord, facing someone like Mr. Malin who was beyond rules, wouldn’t really be as irritable as the stories say, right?

......

"What is this strange thing?" Sostak No.3 stared blankly at the building in front of him, which somewhat resembled a Westland chapel.

Jason and No.3 both looked at the Malin on the wall... No, it can’t be called Malin, because Jason felt this couldn’t be Malin, as this is the chapel of the Thainan Deity.

But... but... Jason touched his face—damn it, that statue is indeed Mr. Malin!

"Why does it look just like Malin?" Sostak No.3 asked his friend while staring blankly at the figure wielding a Longsword and roaring forward.

"I don’t know." Jason scratched his head while replying.

"You always say you don’t know anything!" Sostak No.3 rolled his eyes.

Jason was visibly embarrassed: "I know always saying I don’t know is quite embarrassing even for myself, but look at this thing, if I say I actually know something, would I still be the one you know?"

To this, Sostak No.3 paused briefly, eventually nodding helplessly: "Alright, you’re not wrong. So what do we do now?"

"Let’s go inside and take a look at what kind of existence resides there. Maybe it’s just very similar; after all, before the Great Destruction, crossbreeding between East and West was not unheard of, right?" Jason chuckled awkwardly.

Sostak No.3 nodded: "Alright, let’s go in and see."

With that, the two little ones walked in, and at first glance, saw a mural of someone opening his arms to save the wounded.

"This is indeed Malin! But what is happening here! This building has been here for at least seven or eight years, had our Mr. Malin visited here eight years ago?"

"I’m sure he hadn’t come back eight years ago, as he was just adopted then!"

The two mechanical AIs were utterly shocked by everything before them, and as they proceeded inside, a gentleman who seemed like a guide approached: "Children." He looked at Jason: "You shouldn’t bring your Westlander friend here; he may already have faith."

"Ah, I have no faith, I am just very curious. You Thanan people, why do you worship this... sorry to be rude, who is this?" At this point, Sostak No.3 didn’t want to let Jason handle it anymore, his words flowing smoothly in fluent Thainan.

His words were so standard that the guide chuckled: "So, a child born in Thainan, alright, let me introduce this True Lord, he is True Lord Malin, the Guardian of our city. We established this based on Westland’s chapel and it’s the city’s only official place of faith."

"True Lord Malin, is he powerful?" Jason asked.

"Extremely powerful, he can tear apart the Great Demon with his hands, slay the Bleeder with his sword, and his might makes even Confucius’ army tremble!" The guide spoke in an excited tone.

· Can our Mr. Malin tear apart the Great Demon with his hands, slay the Bleeder with his sword?

Sostak No.3 looked at his good friend Jason, the seemingly youthful face showing some doubt, through the secret channel.

Jason responded through the secret channel, his face also seemingly youthful but turned ashen.

"Yes, indeed, he has used his hands to tear apart."

My Mr. Malin, have you been swapped? How could a mere Legendary figure manage to tear apart the Great Demon?

With a sense of horror, Jason noticed Sostak No.3’s expression of shock.