Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 829: Section 552: Vows (Part 2)_2

Chapter 829: Section 552: Vows (Part 2)_2

"Why aren’t you speaking? Do you not have the courage and confidence to lead your soldiers from one victory to another?" Constantine asked loudly.

Everyone seated seemed unable to respond, but Link, who stood behind Constantine, answered.

"I do not possess such courage and confidence, Marshal."

What the hell is this little bastard thinking? Constantine turned his head to look at the young man.

Fine, since you want to speak, let’s have you say enough.

With that thought, Constantine pointed at Link, then toward the chair on his left hand side, and Link walked over to sit on the chair.

"I do not have the courage and confidence like those sought by Lord Malin. He is a double Legendary, both the Lord of Justice and a dual chosen champion of a certain being. I am well aware that I do not have his kind of courage and confidence, for I lack the strength to match it," Link looked around to make sure no one else stood up to debate with him, then continued with his speech: "But I do have the courage and confidence to follow Lord Malin into battle. I know he is the finest commander, the finest lord, and I will not be sacrificed over a foolish action. Should my death truly be needed, Lord Malin would provide a reason worthy enough to make me and my family proud... With that, even if I die in this Tide of the Dead, my comrades and I will surely be cast into statues, our deeds extolled along with those heroes of old. That is enough for me, knowing that in the Tide of the Dead, many more Mortals will be swallowed by Chaos. I have made my mark in history, and have no more regrets."

Having finished, Link turned to the older middle-aged men on both sides of the long table and asked: "Sirs, do you believe that what I say is right?"

There was not a sound from anyone at the table, which made Constantine laugh—You wastes of space: "Lieutenant Colonel Link is asking you a question."

It was then that the generals and officers in front of Constantine began to echo in agreement.

This filled Constantine with a heavy heart—No matter how the world changes, the gap between the incompetent and the genius remains the same. It has never changed. If these wastes were to manage the soldiers, that would be the ultimate fatality.

And under these circumstances, Malin emerged as the needed figure. His every exhibition so surpassed those of his subordinates, it even caused Constantine some doubt—just who was the top talent of the Northern Military Academy? These wastes, or Lord Malin?

If possible, it must be Lord Malin.

...

Upon returning to the defense line, after resting for a day, the next afternoon, Marshal Constantine took charge and transferred command of the region to Malin. This left Malin in awe of the marshal’s boldness—he only left Stein Manheim as Malin’s assistant, then left with his generals—legend has it that in the West, a new defense line was being established, and they were preparing to set up new fortifications there.

Although Malin was puzzled, it was quite obvious that the soldiers greatly appreciated Marshal Constantine’s decisive action. They ate black bread and drank hot soup, then energetically started to expand the defense line, using their strength where they had it, and their capabilities where they could. The soldiers were preparing to spend a week digging artillery caves beneath the right hilltop defense line. From those semi-open positions, the artillery could sweep across the entire defense line from the right side.

Furthermore, more trenches needed to be dug—according to aerial reconnaissance, the Chaos from the south was gathering, seemingly ready for another invasion.

Malin even had the World Tree Saplings prepare a dozen shallow ditches in front of the defense line, filled with plenty of Holy Oil to be ignited once Chaos invaded, believing it would give the beings of Chaos an unforgettable experience.

Malin also called upon three hundred Frost Giant female chefs through his relationship with the Royal Court of Giants, letting these chefs prepare Frost Giant hot pots—this is a sort of mixed stew made with various meats, edible organs, and tuberous plants typically enjoyed by Giants.

In Malin’s view, such things were outright inedible, but in the Northern Kingdom, this dish had already become a rare delicacy. After seeing the soldiers enjoying their meal so heartily, he finally understood one thing—this food was full of starch, meat, and animal fat, which was far better than bread and meat soup under this damnable weather.

Then it was simple. With what could be provided daily from Malin’s side, combined with supplies from the Giants and the shauro beasts ordered from Farole, they could basically ensure a hot pot meal a day. Sometimes, the most enthusiastic work teams could even enjoy a few skewers of roasted meat.

```

A week passed just like that, and when Lulu came to see Malin, she encountered Jon from the Svenson family. Her first words were: "Jon, you’ve gained weight."

Malin’s face was filled with question marks, then he glanced at Jon: "Ah, really, Jon, your face does seem a bit rounder."

The young man touched his face: "How can you tell I’ve put on weight with all this beard on my face!"

"You’ve got a double chin." Malin said so.

Jon touched his chin and went off to look for a mirror in surprise.

Meanwhile, Lulu glanced at Malin: "We’ve known each other since we were little," and then the girl hugged Malin: "Malin, all of Copenhagen is talking about you lately, some say you’ll be a grand thief of the state, others say you’re a Savior, all kinds of rumors are going around, I’m a little worried about you."

"Don’t worry, I’m here, with my soldiers," Malin reassured with a smile: "By the way, why not stay at the guest house? Is there a problem?"

"There’s no problem, I just wanted to see you... because the recent atmosphere really isn’t quite right, whether it’s His Majesty or my grandfather, they both seem unwilling to deal with these rumors circulating in Copenhagen, so I wanted to come and check."

"Now you’ve seen, my dear." Malin said with a smile, comforting Lulu.

"Mm, I’ve seen, as long as you’re fine, then I should leave, I’m heading back to Copenhagen, I need to utilize my connections in the newspapers to help you turn the situation around, this is what my sisters told me."

"Indeed, go ahead." Malin personally opened a portal for Lulu, and after sending her off, he truly wanted to praise his girls far away in Saharol — how wonderful, to find Lulu an activity she enjoys, so she won’t be bored in Copenhagen.

As for those rumors, Malin really doesn’t care at all — because a big part of those rumors were spread by Malin himself.

You see, self-deprecation, self-cleansing, this sort of no-brainer strategy can span eight millennia, helping everyone who needs it in the intersection of the New World and Old Age.

Indeed, that’s just the case, even a clever girl like Lulu fell for it, it seems likely that old Hagelberry has come to understand that there must be something questionable, so he kept quiet, and King Manheim... seems to be feigning illness again.

This guy isn’t old at all, why does he keep pretending to be sick lately?

Malin is somewhat unclear about what exactly King His Majesty is thinking, but considering that all this acting doesn’t conflict with Malin’s plans, he can’t be bothered to care.

Anyway, right now, in the streets and alleys of Copenhagen, everyone is discussing whether Malin is a grand thief of the state, or a heroic Savior.

Whether they’re commoners or nobles, everyone is discussing what Malin will do next. Surprisingly, the majority of the lower nobles believe Malin is the Savior, while the thoughts of commoners are much more complex, with the narrative of Malin the grand thief and Malin the savior being evenly split.

There are rumors that some newspaper reporters are coming to interview on the battlefield.

Hmm... Hopefully, they choose a good time, otherwise, Malin is going to have to spend quite an effort to save their lives.

```

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