Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 828: Section 552: Vow (Part 2)

Chapter 828: Section 552: Vow (Part 2)

Marshal Constantine sat in the conference room, his arms crossed over his chest, watching generals with different viewpoints fervently arguing on both sides of the long table.

These two factions, one believed that Lord Malin Gaiate was their great Savior, a Savior sent by the Deity, who had united all the races that could be united. Now even the least cooperative Dwarven clans in the northern provinces of the Northern Kingdom had agreed to dispatch troops to help their human brethren.

The other faction thought Malin Gaiate was a disaster, his emergence had split the entire army. Now those poor folk, peasants and people of other races had rallied to his side, and soon there might be incidents within the army where soldiers would not recognize their company leaders, and company leaders wouldn’t recognize their battalion commanders. Afterwards, it was feared that once the Tide of the Dead ended, these folks would gather together and rebel.

Neither side could persuade the other, so the end result was just a waste of time arguing.

"Marshal Constantine, won’t you say something?" Link from the Svenson family leaned forward and asked.

"Let them tire themselves out first," Constantine didn’t want to play peacemaker. As for these two factions, he believed as long as no lives were taken, they could fight however they wanted.

"I understand." The young man took two steps back and stood behind Constantine in silence.

Hmm, a fine lad, Constantine thought internally. This young man was someone Constantine had recently come to value highly, much like his own brother, intelligent, sensible, knew when to advance or retreat, and most importantly—he had connections with Malin.

Constantine differed from Sergei and Cameron, those two old fellows were trapped in the vortex of commercial dealings, but Constantine never involved himself in those matters; he was the Marshal of the Kingdom, not one of those peddlers quarreling over every penny.

No matter how much you earned, when you are of no use to the King, being replaced is only a matter of time.

By comparison, finding ties that connect was the opportunity Constantine most wanted; he had already made modest acquaintances with Malin. Last time over bread, he even chipped a tooth just to establish a connection and stand completely with Malin.

As a Marshal with a keen political sense, Constantine acutely felt the significance—the King Manheim inviting Malin to mentor his youngest child, and old Hagelberry from the Hagelberrys even gave away the only child born in the Purple Chamber from their third generation.

In the Northern Kingdom, such a thing was impossible. If it wasn’t for Malin, Lulu Hagelberry would have married one of her cousins or perhaps formed an alliance through marriage with a new talent emerging from the Tide of the Dead, and her children would have succeeded the Hagelberry lineage.

But now, she had been wed to Malin through the manipulations of that cunning old fox.

In other words, old Hagelberry had already made his choice, he didn’t wait for the Tide of the Dead to recede before he picked what he saw as the best grandson-in-law.

Everyone said the Hagelberrys had been having a tough time recently since their family had not had a child born in the Purple Chamber for two generations. They finally had one, but it was a granddaughter... Now it seems, perhaps Fate still favors the Hagelberry family after all.

It’s just that no one understood in the past years.

Speaking of which, Constantine also felt quite regretful. He had four grandsons born in the Purple Chamber, which originally pleased him greatly. But now when he thought about it... he realized a problem; almost all eligible families of the Northern Kingdom, who could send children to the Purple Chamber in their third generation, had only had boys. In the last twenty years, except for Lulu, there wasn’t another girl.

Fate seemed to heavily favor this girl from the Hagelberry family.

Thinking of this, Constantine silently watched his subordinates, most of whom had exhausted themselves arguing. The few who still had some energy stopped bickering and looked towards Constantine, waiting for the Marshal to pass judgment.

"I have clearly heard your arguments. Some of you hate what Malin has done, others like everything he says and does, all based on his performance described from yesterday. Indeed, compared to trusting us, the soldiers are more willing to believe in Lord Malin. Here I ask you, why would they rather believe him than us?"

Constantine of course knew what was in these soldiers’ hearts; Lord Malin brought them unsullied black bread, lifesaving Holy Water, and even one victory after another. Such a commander, such a leader, why believe the trash seated here instead?

Sorry, although the soldiers are mostly comprised of serfs and freemen, they are just a bit impoverished, their minds are definitely more reliable than those fattened individuals among you.

As expected, after Constantine spoke, everyone present fell silent.

Whether glorifying or vilifying, they all knew what they lacked compared to Malin.

What they lacked was an empire-wealthy industry, unbeatable skills, boundless courage, and...the confidence to lead soldiers from one victory to another.