Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 691 - 479: Rhythm (Part Three)

Chapter 691: Chapter 479: Rhythm (Part Three)

Mowish’s Linz fell silent for a moment before turning to look at Malin, her face showing a touch of confusion and her eyes a glint of fear.

"Malin, as a Legendary, you wouldn’t lie to me, would you?" she started.

"Yes, I won’t lie to you, at least not in front of your brother," Malin replied with a smile. "You should also be aware of my relationship with the Church of Justice. I can say that I am capable of subjecting you to violence, facing you with lethal weapons, but I won’t let down those who believe in me, let alone deceive anyone."

"You’re not sparing me because of my identity, or rather, because of my brother’s identity, right?" Linz asked again.

This made Goethe wary: "Sister, do not act foolishly. Some things, the more you know, the less likely you are to escape unscathed." He didn’t want to see his sister Linz die before him, and Malin... clearly had the power and intent to do so. If it would anger him, then his sister would truly be doomed.

"Indeed, your brother’s status is not the reason I’m sparing you. You killed a young man I was fond of. I thought I could find a new leader for my intelligence department, but your foolishness cost me that opportunity. What you did to the old judges of the Church of Justice gives me even more reason to kill you," Malin shook his head at this self-assumed clever woman. "The reason why I choose to spare you is that a living, confessing you is more useful to me than a dead you, do you understand?"

Indeed, Linz should die, but she was merely a tool controlled by others. Malin preferred to make examples out of those who manipulated others.

"Blaming the responsibility that belongs to me on the Church’s Bishop in this region, you plan to use the life of the Bishop as a lesson to many," Linz said, fixing her gaze on Malin.

Malin nodded, pleased that the princess was on the right track: "Hanging a princess and hanging a Bishop are not the same, so I give you this chance. Speak up, and you may live. Unless, of course, you are indifferent to your own life and death," he finished, smiling as he waited for an answer that would leave all parties satisfied.

Although Linz was a devotee, Malin didn’t think she would be that stupid.

As Malin had anticipated, Linz nodded vigorously: "You truly are a Demon who grasps the human heart. Just as you said, if I die, that Bishop would be the one clapping hands with joy. He wouldn’t care about my life; he’d only use my death to fuel his agenda," the princess sighed in silence. "Just thinking that he might even have used a Suggestion Spell to control my emotions, I see that there’s nothing but enmity between us. Yet he wasn’t wrong in what he said, you are a trouble, a tremendous trouble."

"That’s exactly what I think too," Malin said with a smile, then handed the pre-prepared confession to Goethe: "Your Majesty, take a look."

"What do I have to worry about? As long as you don’t hang my foolish sister, I think even a slave contract wouldn’t be problematic, as my foolish sister would at least be in the care of someone. After all, you won’t really treat her like a slave, right?" Goethe said as he passed the confession to his sister.

Facing the King’s analysis, Malin smiled ambiguously, merely watching as the King’s sister signed the confession.

Malin glanced at the words, verifying there would be no issue, then looked to their King: "You may take her back now."

"Really?" Goethe asked.

Malin nodded.

With that, His Majesty reached out and grabbed Linz’s arm, leading her away from the prison.

Malin sat there until the Bishop of the Church of Justice came in. He took the confession belonging to Linz that Malin passed to him: "Your Excellency, it’s time we carry out the actions we had agreed upon earlier, isn’t it?"

"Tell the followers of the Church of Justice and the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, we move this afternoon. Since the Noble God’s nobles think of me as trouble, I shall be the most conspicuous trouble between us," Malin nodded, signaling that the operation could begin in response to his question.

Then Malin stood up and opened the teleportation channel.

It was said that the Noble God’s Bishop in Rongma was a highly esteemed Noble. Malin hoped the Bishop would take the initiative to provoke a battle with him.

If he died during the struggle to resist arrest, that would be for the best.

.........

Clovis walked into the editorial office of the Rongma Evening News and sized up the tied-up editors and publishers: "Who is Aljom Shelf."

Bunny Girl eyed these men, while all the employees in the building turned their attention to a frail-looking human, who seemed as though he had never been well-fed.

Yet, he lacked the courage to stand up until Clovis’s subordinates dragged him out of the crowd.

"Someone complained about the advertisement you published on page four. As the head of the news control department, it’s my duty to hold you accountable. If you have anything to say, you can do so in prison," Clovis said to the man. "Mr. Aljom, it’s really a pity. A man like you doesn’t deserve to be named alongside heroes. Go to prison and repent for your life."

After saying this, Bunny Girl signaled her agency’s members to drag the man away.

She then approached the editors: "As a member of the editorial team, the editor-in-chief cannot escape responsibility for harboring such a black sheep. He will be imprisoned, and as for the rest of you, I suggest you reflect carefully. So, gentlemen, if you please."

After finishing, Clovis’s subordinates packed up these editors and took them away as well.

Once the editors were removed, Clovis looked over the latest issue of the Rongma Evening News—the Church of Justice purges dissenters, the Noble God’s Bishop arrested in Rongma.

"What a silent role our dear Prince has played in all this... Fools always find a good excuse for their demise," she commented, dropping the newspaper on the floor. As she walked away, a flame touched the pile, setting the newspapers alight.

Upon leaving the editorial office, Clovis got into her carriage and began to leave the scene of the fire with the aid of the horses.

Her actions, for now, were concluded, and what followed was making sure the captured understood what they were fighting for. If they understood, that would be for the best.

If they could not grasp it, Clovis wouldn’t be overly harsh with them. She merely hoped they could use their heads to fend off the violence that could erupt at any moment.

This refined, elegant violence had a name that appealed to both the refined and the vulgar: bullet.