Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 692: Section 480: Follow-up (Part 1)

Chapter 692: Section 480: Follow-up (Part 1)

The Noble God’s local Bishop was a Marquis in Rongma, a title rarely bestowed upon nobility in Farole—usually reserved for members of the royal family. In Sydney, only the Crown Prince held this title, a unique situation for the era.

Under normal circumstances, for Malin to deal with this Bishop would have been extremely difficult, as he was also a nephew of the previous King. Unfortunately, it seemed he held the Deity in higher regard than the royal family. Therefore, when Nova heard about this, she made no significant comment, simply telling Malin to handle it as he saw fit.

This was already choosing sides. Farole’s new Queen had no fondness for clerical power. From her perspective, having her own kin openly contest the royal family’s dignity was a severe crime. Even with divine protection, such a person was a target to be swiftly removed—in other words, such individuals were the most resented by their own relatives in any kingdom.

Naturally, Malin knew what to do, hence his decision to spare Linz. Linz’s confession was a crucial factor in bringing down the Bishop. The Archbishop under the God of Justice joined Malin’s forces to apprehend the man, resulting in a minor clash in front of the Church of the Noble God. Malin’s side, clad in blue, lost seven dead, eleven severely injured, and twenty-one lightly wounded; the Church of Justice suffered seventeen severely injured and nine lightly wounded.

The Protectorate Army of the Church of the Noble God was entirely wiped out. Six out of seven members of the Punisher squad were killed, with the sole survivor surrendering and being spared.

The Marquis was beaten and had both legs broken, dragged away in the street like a dead dog.

Malin believed in total commitment; once an enemy was made, there was no soft-hearted holding back. The only options were a struggle to the death.

And in a struggle, there are casualties.

In the North, Malin’s guard team—ah, now the Seventh Army of the Farole National Defense Force, composed of four divisions—was making headway. According to today’s reports, they were seventy miles from Stadal City, home of the Spencer family.

Their progress was slow, passing each castle and village on the way. Malin intended to teach the nobles by strength what true power meant—the first castle along the border refused passage to the Seventh Army, so it was bombarded for two hours. The artillerymen used cannons for the first time against a complete fortress, which took some time, but the knight in charge and his worthless defenders suffered. After two hours of bombardment, then a round from the infantry storming the collapsed walls, not one was left—they all hung from the castle gates.

With this example, other small castles and villages quickly learned their place. The former remained locked down but still sent some wine and meat. Malin commented that the wine was sour and the meat as tough as wood, questioning which would be harder—the meat or one’s teeth.

Given the times, only Malin’s troops could afford to eat like human beings, so the head of the Seventh Army refused this rubbish, ordering it to be returned to those who brought it.

The provisions from the villages were better, but considering Malin’s campaign was against unjust lords, the head of the Seventh Army turned them away as well.

Then some villages sent all the girls and boys of the third industry to labor for the army. The responsible person, not knowing what to do, asked Malin. Malin told him to send these unfortunate young people away. As for the two villages that brought along their livestock, Malin ordered the head of the towns to be hanged and flogged.

What ignorant country bumpkins.

The second battle of the day was at Dam Fortress in the North, a key point against zombies and beastmen. Malin had to open a gate there and hung the middle-aged knight who adhered to chivalry to give him a good beating. Naturally, this key member of the Gallo family wouldn’t oppose Malin, but he had to consider his family’s honor, which is why he challenged the commander to a duel.

Malin taught him an unforgettable lesson with a World Tree Sapling.

The bad news is that his younger brother wouldn’t be useful for the coming months, but the good news is once struck by the World Tree Sapling, as long as their side had no issues, he would be free from certain male diseases for the rest of his life.

"I am still very merciful," Malin said, proudly boasting to his own girls.

"Just the other day someone wanted him to become a tyrant," Faye said, laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, while Nova watched the report in her hand and listened to the sound outside the window: "The Master of Wisdom’s Bishop wants to see you. Why won’t you meet him?"

"I choose to fight one at a time because I don’t think it’s wise to go against two deities at once, and since he’s a subordinate of the Lord of Justice, he wouldn’t dare confront me openly," Malin finished, glancing at the gate outside the window. His gaze leapt across the square to where the bald Bishop was talking to a court steward: "Let them wait outside, they are to say nothing upon their return. Nova, how is your family’s situation?"

"Both his parents died young. He has two uncles, but I’ve already rejected them. For someone who places clerical authority over royal sovereignty, if it were someone else, it wouldn’t incur my wrath because it’s only natural for a Bishop... But after all, he is of our family lineage. As the Farolians say, traitors must die."

Speaking of this, Nova turned the page of the report, "Look at these, Malin. With your help, the entire western part of Farol near the Raging Sea is reviving. Every city, every town, every village is improving as reported. The farmer’s produce can be sold, the woven blankets and clothing, as well as the semi-finished products in the towns, are all being sent to the next stage of the industrial chain with the help of the trains. Every citizen, every farmer, and even every City Guard is making money."

"Old Sek, tell the person in charge of the City Guards that I can raise their salaries, but if I ever hear of a City Guard reaching for a farmer’s basket of eggs again, I will have no choice but to have him carry out filial piety." Malin turned and said.

"Old Sek will convey your orders to Viscount Dorin, the person responsible for the City Guards," the old butler answered with a bow.

"Tell our Viscount that the farmers are, aside from the largest source of conscripts in the Farol Principality, I don’t want to recruit people filled with resentment toward this realm into the Farol defense forces. If he can’t manage that, then I might just have to borrow his head for a while."

"My dear Faye, do you see? Our Malin really does seem like a tyrant," Nova said with a smile.

"Then he must be the gentlest tyrant in the world," Faye finished, then glanced at the report Nova handed over, "Establishing the first parallel railway from Carterburg to Rongma?"

"Yes, the capacity is insufficient. To prevent the trains on that single track from colliding head-on, our train schedule adjusters are overworking every day." Malin described the state of the adjusters to Nova and Faye—dark circles under their soulless eyes, hyper-awareness to time, even sitting up straight in their sleep if someone mentioned time.

"I find it too pitiful, so I decided to build a parallel railway line. This way, the trains coming and going won’t turn the scheduling into a nightmare." In Malin’s view, the increased capacity would soon turn into a new source of tax revenue, and the newly developed cotton plantations could sell their cotton made into winter clothing to the Northern Kingdom. Given their buying power, the stylish and attractive new winter clothing was bound to be a bestseller.

And for the Nobles and the Royal Family that valued uniqueness, Malin had plenty of tailors and patterns to satisfy their fashion tastes and wallets.

"Malin, what is there that our group cannot control?" After listening to Malin’s vision for the future, Faye was inspired to ask.

"Of course, the most sincere love," Malin knew exactly how to respond to this, especially since it was an ironclad answer. In fact, both of them liked Malin’s reply very much, and Faye and Nova smiled knowingly.

"Your Highness Prince Malin, do you mean... that if there comes a day, even the throne could be controlled?" The old butler’s question made Malin pause for a moment, then he smiled and nodded, "Yes, even the throne can be controlled. Old Sek, just think, when a group controls everything in a realm from top to bottom, when mortals’ births, aging, illnesses, and deaths are under their control, when their clothing, food, living, transportation, their joys and sorrows, and even everything at their weddings and funerals are using the group’s products, what difference does it make between the leader of this group and a King?"

The old man thought for a moment and nodded vigorously, "You’re right, it’s indeed as you say."

"So, I’ve always been avoiding this from happening, because I understand how terrifying it all is, to let profit-driven merchants control everything. It’s no different from handing the scythe to the Grim Reaper," Malin continued, noticing a hint of confusion in Faye’s and Nova’s eyes, he raised an eyebrow, "Do you have any questions?"

"How did you know? I’m very curious," both asked in unison.

Malin chuckled, "I’ve seen it in a dream."

Yes, I’ve seen it in a dream. In the world of my dreams, there was once a river of blood for this reason. People with great ambitions and those with ulterior motives slaughtered each other, all to ensure that survivors could live like humans, and not two-legged sheep, or any other kind of beast.

Malin was well aware that fairness was a beautiful but nearly unachievable ideal, which was precisely why he felt that working with the God of Justice was the best choice.

Faye and Nova pursed their lips in agreement, in this moment deeply inheriting Malin’s crooked-mouthed War God legacy.

But they still agreed with Malin’s seeming nonsense that was delivered with a straight face.

Malin laughed, subtly shifting the topic at the same time; after all, that era had passed eight thousand years ago, and all of it had been swept away by the mighty river of time.

A new era is entitled to forge new legends.

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