Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 693: Section 481: Follow-up (Part 2)

Chapter 693: Section 481: Follow-up (Part 2)

The Noble God’s messenger arrived tardily, half a month later, purportedly journeying from the Northern Kingdom. Malin was quite curious about this—half a month, regardless of the travel distance, in this age, even those less tolerant of transport should have arrived within a week through a transfer gateway.

In that half-month, the marquis had already admitted to lying in a confrontation overseen by the Church of Justice with Linz, subtly influencing Linz’s thoughts—not with spell formations, but with highly practical rhetoric. He leveraged Linz’s resolve to protect the royal family, exaggerating Malin’s ambitions and pushing the lady to stand against Malin.

Ah, ambition. Malin, to tell the truth, was quite fond of the word. Considering that newspapers from Carterburg to Farole were now talking about Malin’s benevolence, kindness, and how he saved the world—how his corporation provided so many job opportunities that day, granting salaries to families that should not have expected them, allowing the impoverished a living, and those destined to flee a food supply.

Malin felt that entrusting the educational press to Clovis was absolutely the right move.

As for ambition... such a fresh, elegant, and universally appreciated adjective had never before been associated with Malin’s head.

Malin has specifically inquired what this ambition represented.

At first, the Bishop considered death before dishonor, doggedly refusing to speak. Then, under the aid of a questioning divine art, he tearfully confessed what the ambition represented.

It represented Malin’s desire to become Emperor.

"Emperor? I thought he would only say I wished to be King," Malin complained to the old Bishop of the Church of Justice, who, chuckling, patted the young man’s head and suggested that this meant the esteemed Marquis held Malin in high regard.

Besides, Emperor does sound mightier than King.

Regarding this, Malin could only smile knowingly—what a joke, Malin was a man who shattered crowns, such a thing as putting a crown on one’s head was indeed not what he aspired to do.

It was Queen Nova who, upon hearing the story of this ambition, revealed in her laughter an expectant gaze.

For his part, Malin could only give a wry smile—such was the unfortunate consequence of shortsightedness crafted by the royal perspective of the era. Rekindling the old Empire’s glory was indeed a beautiful dream cherished in every royal heart, but alas... times had changed. With the advent of nations, that type of multiethnic empire could no longer arise in this world.

As for why, the fate of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was a textbook ending for multiethnic empires in this world.

When loyalty wanes, the team becomes hard to manage.

There must be a term that represents all beings on this planet more effectively than nation, to unite such diverse lands.

It is civilization, a word that signifies a cohesion stronger than nationality.

The Earth Federation before the Great Destruction achieved this, but ultimately, this Federation was terminated during the era of Chaos’s invasion and the Great Destruction, Fate accelerated this civilization into the fast lane, while simultaneously stripping its brakes and clutch, turning a descent into a fatal issue.

"Take a look in the mirror, dear, don’t space out." While tying Malin’s tie, Matilda shot a glance at the distracted Malin: "That Divine Envoy is waiting outside for you, one way or another, show courtesy to a Deity’s messenger."

"Aside from your God of Justice and Goddess of Harvest, I recognize no other deity—eight good-for-nothings lucky a thousand years ago, no reason to feel devout," Malin spoke frankly, adding in his mind—excluding that Deity who focuses on doctrines of vengeance.

According to Casaman, he once received aide from a goddess who claimed to serve the God of Vengeance, this made Malin wonder about extraterrestrial deities—where they truly came from, just as mysterious as the four merchants from Subspace.

With these thoughts, Malin donned his formal attire and minutely adjusted the angle of his tie.

Matilda shook her head: "I’m glad to hear you say that, but regardless, deities do exist, Malin. At least show them some respect, even if you are a mortal who has slain an Evil God."

"All right, I’ll heed your advice." Malin couldn’t bear to cause the little fox any more distress over his words and actions, he nodded, took another look in the mirror, and having ensured perfection, snapped his fingers and proceeded to the living room with his Paladin girl.

A guard opened the door for Malin, and as he walked through the hallway, he mused: "What do you think he’s here for, to challenge me to a champion’s duel?"

"Unlikely, it’s a master of the Sage Sequence who has come. I’m afraid if you shake his hand too hard, the next second you’ll be kneeling beside him, begging him not to die," Matilda’s barbs were becoming ever sharper, leaving Malin somewhat at a loss for a response.

"Is he that frail?" Malin pondered aloud.

"It’s not that he’s so weak; it’s that you’re too strong, Mr. Malin with 40 un-blessed strength," Matilda unleashed another combo of her mocking prowess.

Malin felt something was off with the little fox today, she’s usually not this proud and sarcastic—aren’t you still a Paladin, you big-tailed fox?

With such a sigh, as Malin entered the living room through the large door opened by the guard, he immediately saw a young human male.

Hmm, according to the introductory assault, Malin knew this sort of battery, oops, no, Divine Envoy, they are beings stamped by the deity themselves, with lengthy lifespans serving the gods, and their strength is extremely formidable, sometimes even gaining a small portion of the deity’s power.

It was only an outsider like Malin who had the confidence for a one-on-one, otherwise one Divine Envoy could easily take on five legendary figures.

So, you must never judge a Divine Envoy by their appearance because the answer will usually be disappointing.

"Hello, Mr. Malin, I come bearing goodwill, on behalf of the Noble God." The man smiled as he extended his hand, "You prefer this way of communicating, right?"

"Yes, it seems you’ve done your homework on me, but what I’m more curious about is..." Malin glanced at Logan, "Logan, my old friend, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, you’re talking about Logan? I’m his cousin," the Divine Envoy explained with a smile.

This response gave Malin a dire urge to vent his frustration—just how astronomical is the number of your cousins, did your family really descend from the Habsburgs in hiding?

Regardless, Malin still shook hands with Logan, a member of the envoy team, while marveling at the number and quality of his cousins: "I’ve met many of your cousins; this one is the most outrageous, really, old friend, he’s the most outrageous."

Malin’s remark left Logan also helplessly smiling; he looked at Malin and voiced his true feelings: "I was twisted-faced when I heard I was this cousin’s relative."

The two young friends released their hands, gave a thumbs-up, pointed fingers at each other, high-fived, bumped fists, and then shoulder-bumped each other.

"It’s the real deal."

The friends laughed and shook hands again, then Malin turned to the curiously looking Divine Envoy, "This is a little secret between Logan and me, a method to identify if the other is counterfeit. So, what exactly brings you here this time?"

"I wish to help a fellow follower escape his plight," said the seemingly young Divine Envoy with a smile.

"That’s going to be difficult; he acknowledged his crimes a week ago and is now in the Church of Justice’s prison. They’re planning to send him to whatever maximum security prison has room." After speaking, Malin inwardly lamented that the Noble God was truly ruthless, mentioning only the name of a Bishop while not spending a word on the obliterated Protectorate Army and Punishers... But he couldn’t blame him, with everyone gone, one certainly couldn’t mention it during fierce talk.

Besides, this envoy didn’t seem like the type to spout threats and make enemies.

"What, that happened?!" The envoy’s face was a picture of shock: "Why haven’t my fellow followers told me about this?"

...You’ve been sold out, haven’t you?

As Malin made his sarcastic remark, he began to outline the story to the envoy, who visibly cringed upon hearing it. After a while, the envoy asked if he could visit the unfortunate soul in prison.

Malin issued a pass on the spot, suggesting a visit before it might be too late.

Logan knew the way, so Malin let him take his "cousin" there. After seeing the two leave, Malin turned and sent a message to the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, asking them to investigate why the Noble God would choose such an unfortunate soul for the task.

Half an hour later, news came from the North—the envoy had just finished a long deep cover operation and was about to take a vacation. He encountered the Church’s mission, and since he was not suited for long-distance teleportation immediately after the operation, he took a week-long train journey. After recovering, he teleported over from Regensburg.

It seemed he must have approached the Noble churches in the South and perhaps even inquired at the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, yet he was still in the dark... "He really was sold out."

Malin let out a long sigh—what is going on, does the Noble God truly wish for reconciliation?

If you say he has the intention, from his dispatched envoy’s cluelessness, Malin felt they had no such intention at all.

But if you say he’s not interested, such an envoy being sent wouldn’t make sense either... Malin didn’t buy it.

Without this intention, could it be they wanted to deceive this unfortunate soul, leaving it to Malin to deliver the final blow?

This was utterly baffling; Malin thought this whole affair was preposterous: "I believe this is the most nonsensical negotiation I’ve ever encountered." Turning to Matilda, the large fox with a stern face nodded, "Indeed, you’re right, I cannot fathom the Noble God’s church harboring such... ’unexpected’ approaches, to put it mildly."

Malin chuckled, "Perhaps we’ll get used to it."

Yes, perhaps one day, we’ll all get used to it.