Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 559: Section 382: The Art of Language (Part 1)

Chapter 559: Section 382: The Art of Language (Part 1)

Anthony accompanied Malin out of the hall, and in the courtyard, the young man seemed a bit uneasy. To Malin, it appeared he had been struck a blow—because his great-grandfather felt that he could not adequately educate his eldest son and would rather entrust the child to a stranger he had just met for the first time.

Even if that stranger appeared to be no more than 12 years old.

"Anthony, don’t worry. The old man is just too concerned about your child. If you want to raise the child yourself, I’ll return him to you."

"No, Lord Malin, please don’t say that. You’re not from Farole and don’t understand our traditions. Do you know, if a mentor returns a child, it signifies that the child is uncarvable rot, beyond hope. My great-grandfather chose you as my eldest son’s mentor for a reason." The young man hastily explained, his face changing color drastically.

Malin nodded, "Alright, I won’t bring it up again."

At the same time, he thought to himself— I really do have the talent of a childcare center director.

Anthony said he would take Malin and the others to their lodging, so first, they went to pick up Faye and her companions—they were in the nearby garden, as the elder of the Gallo family had insisted on seeing only Malin himself.

"My great-grandfather believes the times have changed, but peers of my grandfather’s generation don’t think so. They stubbornly believe that nothing has changed. As for the firearm you gave me, they think such firearms are too expensive, but they don’t understand the concept of ’time cost’. Furthermore, for a qualified grand swordsman, the price is exorbitant." Anthony walked ahead of Malin, discussing things Malin was, of course, already aware of. After all, it was Malin who had introduced the concept—a marksman, trained with a thousand ordinary bullets in three months, whereas a grand swordsman takes five years to graduate as an apprentice, then needs to survive five battles to become a real grand swordsman. After that, he must further hone his martial skills until he can kill a Chaos warrior on his own, barely qualifying as a grand swordsman. And even then, there’s more to strive for.

Whereas marksmen only need to form a three-person archer squad and can use bullets designed against Chaos to kill Chaos warriors in their first battle.

Those who do not recognize the changes of the times will only be swallowed by its tides.

"Your great-grandfather is old but has a clear view of matters," Malin patted Anthony’s arm. "By the way, I don’t know the customs of Farole, can I see the bride? On the way here, I must’ve heard about the bride’s beauty at least dozens of times."

"It’s not allowed for men to do so, at least not before the wedding ceremony," the young man explained with some embarrassment. "But your partners are here, you can ask them."

"That’s excellent, I’ll have the chance to hear eight different versions of the story about your bride’s beauty. I hope each story is truly unique." Malin finished speaking and the guards following him couldn’t help but laugh.

"Oh my goodness, Lord Malin, are you making fun of me?" Anthony said with an awkward smile.

"Don’t be silly, my friend. That night we faced Chaos together, we became friends." Malin replied with a smile. "Right, I can hear the girls’ laughter now, go and fetch my partners for me."

"No, I cannot go over there at this time either. It has to be a maiden who goes; after all, that place is exclusively for ladies, no man should appear." While saying this, Anthony waved to the maidservants standing outside the hedge.

Malin nodded with a smile, showing that he understood the explanation, and also felt a bit curious—Farolians sure have a lot of rules.

But it’s interesting. Eight hundred years have passed, and the world has transformed; this is no longer the Earth we once knew.

Watching the girls being brought out by the maidservants, Malin nodded with a smile, and as the girls fell in behind him, he stretched out his hand: "Dear friend, lead us to our lodging."

As Anthony led the party toward the accommodations, he glanced back at the girls who were a distance away, then looked toward Malin with envy, "I am incredibly envious of you, Mr. Malin."

"You’ve started to talk nonsense, my friend," Malin said, puzzled—this damned Farolian has begun talking in riddles too.

"Princess Nova is the dream of all young men," Anthony stated.

"After all, to chase after her is to necessarily become the master of this kingdom, right?" Malin raised his eyebrows.

"Lord Malin, please don’t say that. This is a poor kingdom, we’re still using cold weapons to fight Chaos. Becoming Prince is a power as well as a duty. My great-grandfather said that the Tide of the Dead will definitely come early this time, perhaps even signal the first toll of a new destruction... Although the elders all say my great-grandfather must be senile, that he’s too old to be inventing such stories."

Having said this, the young man sighed. "But I feel he isn’t wrong."

"The latest issue of the Mage Tower newsletter says that the Sea of Stars is quaking. If not for the World Tree separating our domain of stars from direct connection with Subspace, within three years at most, a new Chaos Army will leap into this world." Malin spoke up to this point and looked at Anthony, "Now, we have about five years left."

"It’s all because of you. The tree in Carterburg is gaining some fame in the Supernatural Realm. I’ve even heard that tolerant wizards are trying to find ways to go to Carterburg because there, they can break free from the bondage of Subspace."

"Yes, Anthony, when I came, I already had at least 200 wizards with me. Most of them had shed the influence of Subspace, and some had even returned to the path of Mages or Psychics," Malin said, looking at Anthony.

The young man fell silent for a moment, then let out a sigh, "If only my old friend Gert could have known about this a year or two earlier, he was stuck as a third-ring Mage for too long. In the end, he took a magic potion, but was discovered by the Mage Tower... He died in the Wizard hunt two years ago."

"Don’t dwell on it too much, I also had a friend from my apprentice days who died in the hunt, just a little too far from that tree to be purified."

"Diviners always say that Fate has written a story for everyone, and those who break from Fate think they’ve changed their own destinies, yet they never consider that it’s just a small twist plotted by the Goddess of Fate within their own stories," Anthony murmured, leading Malin to a small courtyard, "This is the place, where the former king once stayed."

"In that case, I still have to thank our princess," Malin said with a smile.

"One could say that, Mr. Malin, if the bell of destruction is rung..." "I believe that everyone will calmly face destruction, then just like the people of the past, strive to overcome it, or strive to live longer than the destruction itself."

Having said that, Malin gestured for the girls to go in first.

"It seems the gentlemen have things to discuss, sisters, let’s go in first," Faye said with a smile, coming beside Malin and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

"I will strive to live on, for the bride I love," Anthony stated solemnly.

Malin let out a chuckle, all the while thinking what kind of flag this fellow was planting.

But then again, how could Mr. Anthony know about all these messy things? He just wanted to survive, too.

So, better quicken your step, Malin.

Destruction waits for no one.

After bidding farewell to Anthony, Malin walked into the courtyard, with its strong Greece-style architecture offering Malin a feeling of returning to a millennia past. Unfortunately, as soon as he entered, the interior decoration in Sydney’s style utterly crushed the tiny bourgeoisie girl’s heart inside him.

Learning that Backup and Spotty had already been sent to the animal pen out back, Malin went to have a look, noticing that Backup Food was eating dried meat—apparently with honey spread on it—looking quite content. Compared to this creature, humans seemed like a stinky and unpleasant meal to consume.

Spotty and its cubs were avoiding the sunlight under the shade of trees—Southern Farole was no longer suitable for their survival, but the spirits’ strong vitality meant they were not sickened by this.

It seemed that Carterburg was a more fitting place for these long-haired big cats to live.

Malin cast a temperature control Spell Formation for Spotty’s family, and the little cubs, who were panting with their tongues out, rushed over to Malin as soon as they felt the cool air and started climbing up his trouser legs.

"Do you have any regrets now?" The cheerful laughter of Lillim came from behind him.

Malin smiled and turned the little cubs into floating state with his spells, holding them in his arms and turning around, "A little regret, yes, they’re too mischievous."

Lillim supported herself on the windowsill with her arms while the little lamb girl watched Malin with a silly smile, not saying a word.

This left Malin puzzled. He approached her with the cubs in his arms and then signaled the little ones to attack the sheep girl’s nose with their tails.

So the four tails swept over, and the sheep girl pleaded for mercy, tickled to no end.

Then Rewo came running over, this girl was a bona fide cat slave, gladly taking the cubs from Malin’s arms and heading towards the couch, while also taking food out of her Spatial Bag.

"Everyone is having fun, we just met some nice people of our own age over there," said Faye as she walked over, "By the way, why don’t you ask how beautiful the bride is?"

"Do I need to ask? In my eyes, you are the most beautiful brides," Malin replied with a smile.

The little lamb ran off blushing to join Rewo in cat-cuddling, and Faye, with a smile that was more of a smirk, placed her hands on her hips as she looked at Malin through the window: "With that mouth of yours, you would surely make countless girls in The Capital fall for you."

"Having you fall for me is enough," Malin answered with a smile.

In that moment, the scoundrel charm of Gaiate’s Malin was fully displayed.