Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 167 - 126: Deep into the Night (IV)_3

Chapter 167: Chapter 126: Deep into the Night (IV)_3

He saw a young boy, seemingly younger than his own son, smiling and reaching out a hand to him.

The Church’s Punishers had already joined the battlefield.

"What, need me to pick you up, big guy?" the boy asked with a smile, his foreign accent evident.

On a normal day, he would surely have interrogated this youngster thoroughly to see if he was a bold and brash runaway.

But today, the Captain of the City Guard felt as though he had seen an angel.

He was smoothly helped to sit up by the child.

"You’re quite strong," said the middle-aged City Guard Captain, covering his face and taking breaths while smiling.

Then that smile caused his facial wound to pull.

"Perfect for twisting the necks of Chaos," the boy said with a laugh, a glimmer of white light appearing in his extended hand, and the City Guard Captain could feel the wound on his face closing at a rate that defied biology.

"Thank you," the City Guard Captain nodded in gratitude, and when the boy left, he stood up and saw the defensive line littered with bodies: City Guards, Chaos, twisted beasts.

He saw a pair of boots; those were the gnome City Guard’s favorite boots, neatly placed in a corner of the defensive line.

The City Guard Captain clutched his head and wept aloud.

......

Malin glanced at the weeping middle-aged man, understanding his feelings, but war was war, and people always died in it.

"The City Guard system can be trusted," Constance came over with a Chaos head in his hand, "A very rare Vampire Chaos, this will be the perfect addition to my collection," and then he stuffed the head into the bag on his back.

"Why not just leave it here? It’s not like it can walk away," Malin asked curiously, "Won’t it be inconvenient to carry it with you?"

"No, boy, I’m not yet so old that I can’t walk," Constance replied, pointing in another direction, "And as for what you said about heads not growing legs, you’d better have a look over there."

Malin turned his head, just in time to see a Chaos head growing some insect-like appendages at the severed neck, carefully trying to flee the scene. After confirming the playful look on Constance’s face and the surprise on Malin’s, the head started to sprint.

Malin expressionlessly drew his Revolver and blew the climbing head wide open with one shot.

At the same time, Malin cursed internally—damn, a head really can grow legs.

"You just lost five hundred bucks, kid," Constance said with a chuckle as he moved forward.

Malin rolled his eyes, "Can the potion made from it be consumed by normal people?" He hurried after Constance, asking with curiosity.

"No, but the brain is a key ingredient in many poison enhancers. There’s always use for it," the old man replied with a smile.

Hearing it was an ingredient for poison, Malin lost interest, "Well, that doesn’t matter, does it, sir?"

"No, sometimes poison is also a weapon for killing the enemy... Of course, such matters are a bit beyond you, boy under the care of the God of Justice. Just continue being your great hero," the old man patted Malin’s head, "...you seem to have gotten a bit taller."

"Really?" Malin brightened.

"I’m deceiving you," the old man said expressionlessly.

...Has no one ever wanted to chop you into pieces with that big mouth of yours all these years?

It seems there’s no divine justice.

"Your Excellency, we have sighted the temporary palace, and there is an exchange of fire going on over there," reported a Punisher, explaining the situation.

The news made Constance fall silent for a moment, "Are there people in the temporary palace? Who are they?"

"It’s unclear, but we can confirm that guards are defending the temporary palace. They are engaging with a force of Chaos. The temporary palace’s firepower is substantial. Many of the Chaos have been killed without being able to breach it."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go and pay a visit to that person," Constance said.

Constance moved forward, the Punishers began advancing in battle formation, Malin and two half-humans kicked open the door of a street-facing shop, made their way through the counters, ascended to the rooftop, crossed the low walls between buildings, and quickly had the temporary palace in sight.

It felt different from the detached pavilions of Carterburg, which are semi-open, semi-garden-style buildings, seeming more suitable for elves like Faye, whereas this temporary palace resembled a small fortress. One could see that one side of the temporary palace, near the street, was exchanging fire with another side, and the street illuminated by streetlights was strewn with dozens of corpses.

So, Chaos is really that stupid to not dismantle the streetlights.

Malin grumbled to himself, then watched as the forces of Chaos once again started to charge. About a hundred people surged forward like African warfare, and the other side of the temporary palace responded with two cannon shots, adding dozens of corpses and as many wounded to the ground where they lay.

"Not bad, using field cannons with grapeshot. The defenders inside the temporary palace seem to really know their stuff," remarked the half-human Punisher.

And Malin caught the signal flare handed to him by another half-human and sent it soaring into the sky.

The sudden appearance of the signal flare naturally attracted the attention of the defending forces, but considering the overt revelation of their presence here, the defenders did not open fire right away. Instead, someone shouted loudly, "Who goes there? Why are you using a signal flare?"

"We are a Punisher squad from the Church of the Goddess of Harvest!" Constance took up the conversation from the ground.

"How do we know you are who you say you are!" an elderly voice countered.

Malin was taken aback for a moment—this voice sounded somewhat familiar.

Then it struck him, Jason, the butler, always seemed to accompany Lady Manli.

Malin’s first instinct was to distance himself from the situation.

But then he thought better of it. Some things are better not neglected, he mused, clearing his throat, "Mr. Jason, this is Malin."

There was silence on the other end, and then the old man’s voice took on a note of pleasure, "Young Mr. Malin, how have you been lately?"

"Not well. I’ve seen the worst of this city. How is the lady?"

"You do sound genuine. Please, come alone," replied the old man, a hint of suspicion leaving his tone.

So Malin went downstairs, approached the wall, a rope was let down, he wrapped it around his waist, and then he was hoisted up.

When he saw Jason, Malin smiled sheepishly, "Good to see you, Mr. Jason."

"It is indeed young Mr. Malin, the world really is small," the old man said with an awkward smile, then gestured for the guards to open the side door.

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