Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 787: Section 533: The Winter Campaign (Part 4)

Chapter 787: Section 533: The Winter Campaign (Part 4)

Although Malin’s warning was strong and forceful, there were still some who observed the drastic changes overtaking that Fatty Noble and, in a bid to reclaim their once splendid past, dared to take risks. That very night, seven elderly women and two old men came together, somehow penetrating the military’s cordon, and drank the undiluted No. 1 Holy Water.

Three of them with questionable allegiances who drank more met immediate ash to ash, dust to dust. The rest, by the time they were found, had been transformed by Holy Energy into beings only capable of repentance and seeking redemption.

The sacred energy is not merely Spiritual Medicine, it can save lives or judge those audacious enough to test its limits. As a species, the longer humans live, the more regrets and guilt accumulate. After all, there are very few who live a life as clear as a mirror, where all their actions are just, in this world.

In the end, Emperor Manheim had the families of these people take them back home. As for the ashes... they were scattered by the wind and snow long ago, with only their clothes left as relics, signifying their last presence in this world as humans.

With such harrowing precedents set, Malin was pleased to discover that no one else dared to attempt a sip afterward. And once the Holy Water was diluted to become No. 2 Holy Water, when it was sent to the southern frontlines, the first batch alone saved the lives of at least hundreds. Although it necessitated their withdrawal from the battle Sequence to await the end of their convalescence, preserving their lives significantly boosted the soldiers’ morale at the front. Originally, battling the Nagoth Legion was akin to a job where one always risked life and limb, but now with Holy Water, as long as one did not perish immediately, they could be saved, and the soldiers no longer worried about their lives, fighting with more bravery and fearlessness.

Even some of the officers began to stand courageously on the frontlines, and their presence further convinced the soldiers that they would survive the campaign.

Courage is contagious, and such outcomes left Malin somewhat contemplative—see, as long as supplies were adequate and the soldiers spared no effort, the scales of victory in battle would naturally tip in humanity’s favor.

News of Malin turning an entire lake into Holy Water quickly spread throughout the entire war zone, and soon the soldiers began saluting him. Each time Malin and his young companions joined the battlefield, the soldiers would become the most fearless warriors. Today, Malin even witnessed soldiers, confronted with the Tide of the Dead breaking through the defenses, heroically charging with Bayonettes smeared with Holy Oil in a counter-offensive.

Without anyone’s call to arms or a sergeant’s rallying shout, the soldiers charged spontaneously, repelling the Plague Messengers with volleys of gunfire and stabs of Bayonettes.

This left Malin feeling helpless—to protect these brave soldiers, Malin always had to expend a great deal of Spiritual Energy and personally Purify those who died in battle.

Even so, the soldiers on the frontlines remained high-spirited, which made Malin feel guilty for not being able to protect everyone.

Sitting beside the trenches, Malin lit a cigarette for himself. The soldiers in this area were recuperating, uncertain when Chaos might launch its next attack. They needed to seize every breath to secure moments of rest.

"Lord Malin," an old officer approached Malin, smiling as he looked at him. "Thank you for coming. The boys are in high spirits."

"You are...?" Malin could not see any Noble insignia on the man, and the scars on his face wrought by the elements, along with his thick Big Beard, made him somewhat unrecognizable.

"Keders Hagelberry, a distant relative. I’m cousins with that old white-haired fellow."

Oh, so you too have albinism.

Malin smiled, just learning of Hagelberry’s albinism today. But looking at Lulu, it didn’t seem like a hereditary case: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Keders."

"No need for ’Mr.’, Lord, just call me old Keders. Your Holy Water these last few days has saved the lives of at least a thousand in my battalion. Just earlier, if it weren’t for your help healing the kids, I’d have had to discipline those three units that lead the counter-charge... or rather, they wouldn’t have survived the battle."

"I just wanted to help you all, I have my own selfish reasons too, you know. Every day you fight here, the south enjoys one more day of safety," Malin said honestly with a smile.

"But you’re sincerely helping us, aren’t you?" The old man sat down next to Malin, took out a paper from his pocket, poured some tobacco from his pouch, rolled it up, licked the paper to seal it, then reached for the torch that was ready to light an oil drum and used it to light his cigarette.

The old and the young smoked together, flicking their ashes in unison, watching the ash grow until it fell.

"Lord Malin, you’re too kind."

"Is that so?"

Hearing such a comment, Malin turned to look at the old man, who flicked off the final stub of his cigarette.

"You’re too kind. You want to save everyone on the battlefield without realizing that it’s a battlefield. You’re Legendary, but even a Deity can’t save everyone... there will always be those who die today, Lord." Old Keders said, finishing his thought, then looked down at his wrinkled hands. "When I was young, I also wanted to be a hero, save everyone... but my strength couldn’t support my dream. During the last Tide of the Dead, I was only fourteen, and when the fighting was fiercest, I and my brothers were conscripted. In the first battle against the Plague Messengers, out of thirteen children in our family, nine died. I personally killed my favorite younger brother because he was about to turn..."

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