Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 755: Section 516: The Shape of Voice (Part 1)_3

Chapter 755: Section 516: The Shape of Voice (Part 1)_3

"What’s the matter, old Francis?" Because there was an outsider present, Malin asked in the tone used for internal Church discussions.

"There’s a little problem. Yesterday, a team of Church apprentices went on a mission to a small town south of the city to dispel some flying heads, but they did not return all night. The Archbishop found it strange, and before dawn today, he sent a team of Church guards to the town. Just now, two riders came back and reported that the town is shrouded in thick mist. Of the eight in their team, only the two who didn’t enter the town survived. The remaining six disappeared into the mist and never re-emerged."

"I’ll be ready in a moment, I need to change my clothes."

Malin returned to his room to change his attire and then went to Lulu’s room to inform the girls about the incident at the Church of the Goddess of Harvest and to wait at home, after which, Malin, equipped with his gear, followed old Francis out and mounted the carriage.

"We’re alone now; what else is there that you haven’t mentioned, comrade Francis?" Once they were certain no one was following, Malin inquired, looking at old Francis.

"My apprentice, Roben Sterling, who’s slated to succeed me, was with that team. He’s a boy I found in a pile of famine victims, a most steadfast northerner. In the past few years, I’ve always had him oversee the village assistance projects. Before I retire, I plan to recommend him as my successor."

"So, dead or alive, we need an answer, right?" Malin gazed at the elder.

"Correct, if he...if anything unfortunate has happened to him, before you perform the Purification, please make sure to capture images for me. I want to see what led to his fall." As he spoke, the old man sighed deeply: "In the ten years since the establishment of our ideals, I’ve seen many whose wills weren’t strong enough. They either chose to withdraw or thought about betraying us, and among them, some had their minds corrupted by the Evil God...This path is arduous. I have confidence in the boy Roben, but...confidence is one thing, reality another. So, if there truly is a problem, purify him. Northerners have never needed hollow mercy. For The Fallen, Purification is a better end."

"Understood, leave it to me. Considering the hazard posed by the mist, I’m going to operate solo this time." As Malin spoke, he began considering the equipment he needed: "Right, I have an assistant, Jason. Contact Eleven for me; I need help."

"No problem, I’ve already made contact. Should he wait for you at the Church of the Goddess of Harvest?" Eleven had already been certified and was currently harmless in the city, as long as Malin could still command him, so Malin decided to take him along as well.

"Yes, have him wait at the gate. We’ll be right there. Oh, and if the satellite happens to be passing over the town, check whether it can see the central point—is it a hollow mist or a solid mound of mist."

"No problem, the next pass is in one hour and seventeen minutes."

With that answer, Malin turned to old Francis: "Don’t worry, we’ll find out what happened to your apprentice Roben."

"I entrust everything to you." The old man looked somewhat haggard, which reminded Malin of old Hoffman.

And the thought of old Hoffman made Malin feel the urgency to handle this matter well.

As soon as they reached the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, Malin, with Eleven using optical camo, entered the hall. When the latter deactivated the camo, it startled everyone, but Malin quickly offered an explanation. With his account and old Francis’s confirmation, the guards dispersed, and Eleven lowered his hands.

"Let’s go to the equipment area." Malin carried his rifle and shotgun, which he considered too long for him, and gave them to Eleven, who was taller. Malin then went back to the workshop to fetch a short-barrel assault rifle and a double-barrel shotgun with both its barrels and stock sawed off — not much good beyond twenty or so meters due to spread.

Having fetched his arsenal, Malin heard from old Francis that Eleven had hit 11 rings with ten shots in a recent shooting test, living up to his reputation as a precision killing weapon crafted of steel.

This reassured Malin greatly — with such a companion, he could be very confident about defense from behind.

"Message from the emergency squad: the teleportation passage can’t be established."

"No matter, Eleven and I will ride there." Following his words, Malin activated a transport channel, and a large-tired quad bike driven by a Great Craftsman Dwarf came through.

"I won’t join you in risking our lives this time." The elder finished speaking and then went back through the channel.

Malin tossed the keys to Eleven and then bade farewell to old Francis: "I’m leaving now, any last words?"

"Do not tolerate Chaos... And thank you, comrade Malin."

"No need to thank me, comrade Francis."

After shaking hands, Malin jumped onto the vehicle, and Eleven drove through the equipment area, with a guard opening a side door for them.

When the quad hit the streets, it caught many glances, but upon seeing the Holy Emblem of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, no one came out to play the curious cat.

And as the vehicle passed the southern gate of Copenhagen and entered Malin’s field of vision, all he could see were snowdrifts.

"It’s terrifying here already, I wonder what Oslo looks like," he mused.

"Unsuitable for ordinary humans to live in," Eleven added: "Jason has already marked out a clear route for us. It will take two hours and twenty-nine minutes to get there."

"Two and a half hours, sounds pretty far." While speaking, Malin turned and settled into the funnel at the back, opened his backpack, and pulled up the snow cover: "This weather is deadly; I once thought Carterburg was very cold, but I was wrong."

"Being from the South, how could you see such weather? Indeed, it’s quite the distance," Eleven remarked, looking ahead. "Considering the rate of snowfall, add seven minutes."

"Good grief, please let’s not increase the time again," Malin quipped, then curled up into a ball — when would his body change back?

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