Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 536 - 367: Old Days (Part 3)

Chapter 536: Chapter 367: Old Days (Part 3)

The sociality of the zombies in this area far surpassed Malin’s expectations.

After meeting up with Six Fingers and Gold Ingots, Malin also confirmed from them the presence of zombies grouped in units in the room.

"Perhaps this is their home," Six Fingers said, glancing at the stairway to the third floor, where a team of Half-humans was standing by in tight formation.

"Then what about all those zombies outside? Why don’t they come in?" Gold Ingots pointed to the main door downstairs.

"Have you ever seen a beggar with a home, my old friend? The zombies in this Dark Zone have shown us a family," said Six Fingers, then pointed to the four bodies at his feet.

There were two adult zombies and two young ones, likely the children of the male and the female.

But they were all dead.

"Did they tell you that?" Gold Ingots retorted.

"When I was about to kill the child, the gravely injured woman stood in front of her child. Gold Ingots, that was a mother’s final struggle," Six Fingers said with a heavy sigh. "This isn’t right. I’ve lived for fifty-seven years and never seen a zombie show such humanity. In the Dark Zone east of the Eastern Kingdom, it’s taken for granted that zombies eat each other; their lack of humanity is a common understanding... And now, these zombies live like people."

"...So, what do we do now? Are we supposed to welcome them into civilized society, dress these grotesquely swollen creatures up in suits, let them have power and roll in the sheets with the smooth-skinned bastards? Can you stand their stink?!"

"Enough, both of you. We are chroniclers and discoverers, not defenders of the ethics and morals of these creatures beneath our feet," Malin interjected, giving a final adjudication to their argument. "Let’s head up to the third floor and see if we can find any new clues or intelligence. All zombies are enemies, whether they have a home or not. I need you to remember this; you also have families. I don’t want to see anyone betray their comrades or partners for a deformed creature’s kinship. Remember, you are Dwarves, you are Half-humans, and I am a Frost Giant Half-blood. We all belong to the human species, living beings under that classification, and they are not."

"Yes, Your Excellency, you are correct," Gold Ingots nodded.

"Your will is absolutely right, Your Excellency," the Half-human saluted.

"Let’s go," Malin turned and led the way up the stairs to the third floor.

Contrary to Malin’s expectations, the third floor didn’t have zombies. Instead, there were zombie corpses everywhere. Six Fingers dragged one over: "This one wasn’t killed by mosquitoes; there’s a sword wound on its rib, it was killed by a blade."

"Wait, don’t talk," Malin held up his left hand, his right hand gripping the rifle pointed toward the hallway on his right.

Gold Ingots, still on the stairs, peeked into the corridor and, at Malin’s signal, pulled out a flare, armed it, and threw it down the hallway.

In Malin’s eyes, the flare tumbled through the air and about ten meters into the corridor, an irregular shadow appeared on its left, cast onto the wall by the light.

"A living person?" Malin spoke up.

The air began to twist, and then, a mechanical body appeared before Malin.

"Damn it! Twisted armor! Your Excellency, watch out!" Gold Ingots rushed onto the platform and pushed Malin, behind whom the Dwarves advanced with hammers and shields in hand.

"Wait!" Malin pushed Gold Ingots back with a reverse hand and stepped to the forefront of the group, addressing the armored figure before him.

Malin instinctively felt something different about this Twisted armor—it should have started harvesting them when they first came up. At such a close distance, none but Malin stood a chance to survive.

Even he owed his survival to the help of the young shoots.

"This is Europa Seventeenth Army Group, the Seventeenth Automated Assault Group, number sixteen, please identify yourselves," the Twisted armor responded.

"What’s it saying?!" Gold Ingots shouted.

"No one present can understand what it’s saying!" Six Fingers pushed the Dwarf aside: "Except for the Commander!"

Because he saw Malin take another step forward: "Europa... Where do you come from? Where were you made?"

The armor spoke English, and although Malin had Level 4 proficiency, it was a stretch for him as he hadn’t used it much, and he normally communicated in Sydney and the Common Tongue.

But the Twisted armor immediately understood him: "Mother tongue detected, scanning for similarity, 91.928% confirmed. Citizen, I was assembled at the Damp First Armory. My orders were to protect this level; the operation is a military secret."

Damp? An unfamiliar name. Malin decided to ask a constructive question: "How long has it been since you received your orders?"

This was a question Malin had not found anyone to ask before because the Church’s historical records might not be true. Given the number of times the world had faced destruction, civilization should have been wiped out long ago, meaning historical records could not all be accurate.

Today, it seemed there might be an answer—an electronic clock was right in front of them, and it looked like it should still be working.

"Eight thousand six hundred ninety-one years, nineteen days, eleven hours, twenty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds, citizen," the armor provided an answer.

Eight millennia have passed, over half that time... While there may be discrepancies with the history books, it was still within the realm of acceptance for Malin.

After all, the Church claims it’s around ten thousand years, and during the period of civilization’s recovery from several apocalyptic events, discrepancies in the chronology were inevitable. In other words, the fact that someone could record an approximate timeline was already commendable.

"Citizen, do you have official business on this level?"

"...We have come here to explore," Malin looked at the war armor in front of him, not expecting this entity to possess sufficient reasoning capabilities, "So much time has passed, can you comprehend what that means?"

"I cannot. Unit Seventeen only receives and completes tasks. Citizen, if you have no official business or identification to prove your identity, please leave immediately, otherwise I will treat you and your companions as enemies."

As Seventeen finished speaking, Malin saw a ghostly blue blade extend from its wrist.

Malin reached out to touch the Gold Ingots, "I will take my companions and leave right now." After saying this, Malin turned to his teammates, "Let’s go."

Once back on the second level, with his companions still in confusion, Malin recounted the conversation he had with the war armor. Gold Ingots scratched his head, "To think there would be war armors that are not enemies; we have never seen such things in the Dark Zone of the East."

"I’ve encountered one before, but like this one, it seemed to be guarding something. It didn’t show hostility unless one approached. However, Mr. Malin, how were you able to converse with it? Your words seemed close to the common language grammar, but I couldn’t make out the correct meaning at all."

"You could say that I acquired this knowledge from my Transcendent tier, knowledge of the old era is not free, and it is extremely dangerous. It guards the entire third level, and if we had not left, it would have treated us as enemies, as you saw with the ghostly blue blade, no physical form, and not Spiritual Energy, undoubtedly the most terrifying blade." Malin said this and suddenly heard the sound of the main door opening.

"How did the door open!" Malin turned and saw the door opening and the zombies behind it.

"Fire from above!" Malin ordered and then jumped from the railing of the second floor, running into the midst of the defense team gathered on the first floor, tapping their commander, "Get your men to find Dante! We must head upstairs!"

"Big Toe! Take your brother to find Lord Dante!" the Half-human shouted at the Gnome.

The zombies outside had seen the situation inside and there was no need for stealth anymore.

The door stopped opening at the same angle they had entered—it was about wide enough to accommodate four to five people.

This provided some relief to Malin—the door must have jammed. If it could open fully, Malin’s only way out would have been to take whoever he could to the third level and defend with the help of Seventeen. As for Lord Dante... one could only hope that luck was on their side.

Fio, already charging with Blood Roar, proved that mutated zombies were all equal before his axe, and to bullets, flesh was merely a target’s expression.

The first wave of zombies to rush in died quickly, their bodies falling to the ground, quickly becoming obstacles for the ones that followed, who began climbing over the pile at the door.

"Masks on!" Malin yelled, simultaneously unzipping a special pouch and pulling out an incendiary grenade with an added kick.

He pulled the pin and tossed it. A zombie tried to catch it, but the trajectory of Malin’s throw was too high for it to intercept. The grenade exploded mid-air just outside the door.

A shower of fire rained down, numerous climbing and leaping zombies ignited and crashed into the hall.

"What the hell is going on!?" Dante emerged from underground, his voice filled with urgency over the continuous gunfire.

"They’ve opened the doors and come in! The zombies of this Dark Zone have developed enough sociability and organization! We must get to the third floor!" Malin explained the situation on the third floor to Dante, "The ground floor is swarming with zombies, we must head up. If we can find a hidden passage, we might make it, otherwise, we escape from the third floor using the nail rail track directly out the door, and break through outside."

"No choice then, lead the way up, we’ll cover the rear."

"No, you go up, I’ll cover," Malin insisted, Mana emerging from his sleeve with a sharp cry, and in the next second, the dead zombies on the ground rose up and tangled with their live counterparts.

"I never knew the World Tree’s saplings had such powers."

"There’s no right or wrong with powers, only in the people who use them."

With the conversation finished, Dante led his people up the stairs.

Malin turned his head, hearing the fluttering wings from the corridor where he had previously killed a mosquito.

The first floor really is a mosquito nest.

With that thought, Malin reached out, allowing the vines formed by Lorrin and Melo from his sleeves to coil around the column of the second-floor platform, and as they pulled him up, he called to Fio to run.

Fio, who was having a good time hacking away, toppled the zombie in front of him, then plunged towards the ground and burrowed his way out of the melee, springing back up to his feet and flinging himself toward the second floor.

Gold Ingots ducked to avoid the incoming axe handle and then looked up to see Malin on the second floor with some trepidation, "Was that axe meant to take me out just now?!"

"I think it might just have failed to see you," Malin replied, catching Fio and then glancing back at the never-ending stream of zombies pouring into the hall, "We make for the upper levels, and may there... be hope!"

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