Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 864: Section 572: Conflict (Part Three)

Chapter 864: Section 572: Conflict (Part Three)

Koser Town didn’t seem bustling at all, perhaps because the snow had just stopped, or perhaps because there had just been a murder. Only a few townsfolk who took advantage of the cessation of snowfall were out and about. When they saw Malin, who was fashionably dressed in their eyes, and the soldiers following him in a combat formation, they were momentarily at a loss.

Malin is now matrilineal, a standard Frost Giant half-blood and a clothes rack, a common race in the North.

The soldiers behind him were basically slaves who had fled or had been sold to Malin from the North. To the townsfolk, they looked like locals. The only issue was that their clothes were different from those of the regular soldiers.

That was the cause of the townspeople’s confusion—they looked like one of their own, yet not quite.

In this dilemma, Malin saw the approaching militia—these middle-aged men who looked like soldiers without the uniforms and equipment and who mostly bore battle scars. They held melee weapons, and only one, seemingly the leader, had a revolver holstered at his waist.

"Who are you, and what brings you to Koser Town," the leader came over, placing his hands where Malin could see them and simultaneously pushing an overeager youngster, who had tried to follow and bolster his courage, to the ground: "Adults are talking, scram."

The youngster had just stood up when another middle-aged militia member grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to the back of the formation.

This was the attitude one should have in the face of dozens of rifles.

Malin nodded, "Malin Gaiate, Malin from Carterburg."

The leader paused for a moment, then turned to glance at his troop, "Old Jack, go fetch your son, and take mine away too, the little rascal’s got no sense, just a nuisance."

A One-eyed man handed his hatchet to his comrade, then grabbed the youngster and dashed back toward town.

"My lord, the squadron leader has already begun to encircle along the town walls," Tuojin came up to Malin’s side and spoke in Sydneyan.

Perhaps assuming others wouldn’t understand, but someone in the militia shouted, "It’s the Sydneyans!"

Malin glanced at the militia’s formation. These Northerners were somewhat puzzled—why are the people opposite Northerners, but the two that seemed to be the commanders speaking in Sydneyan?

Malin looked at the leader and took a cigarette case out, pulled out a stick, and offered it to him, "State your name."

Accepting the cigarette, the leader watched the small flame drift over and eventually leaned in to light his cigarette.

He took a deep drag and then, looking at Malin, there was a flash of recognition: "Val Huedra, my lord, what brings you and your soldiers to our town?"

"Why was the Chandler family hung outside the town?" Malin took a cigarette for himself, and the small flame came to him, willingly igniting his cigarette.

Then the small flame twirled and vanished from everyone’s sight.

"You saw it when you arrived? The mayor said they colluded with the Chaos Cult," the middle-aged man named Val said with a sigh.

It was clear he didn’t wish to say more.

"Where’s Halsan Chandler, I didn’t find him on the gallows," Malin asked while tossing out his cigarette case. The cigarettes inside flew towards the militia members in a very slow motion, prompting the eager ones to catch them immediately and filled with dread.

For there was a flame in front of each person.

Faced with the choice of smoking a cigarette or smoking themselves, everyone made the decision that was best for them.

"Halsan Chandler has escaped, but we’re certain he hasn’t left town, the town gates are manned by the mayor’s men, and he also broke an arm, just yesterday," Val explained, and Malin finally cleared up the whole issue.

Halsan Chandler returned five days ago. His family was negotiating with the Dole Vince family at the time. The Chandlers did not want to sell their ancestral lands to the Dole Vince family, nor did they want to swap—everyone knew that the Goddess of Harvest Church’s work team had just left, and swapping lands at this time meant cutting off one’s own livelihood.

Since the Chandler family was also a major household in town, things were somewhat restrained the first few days. But for some reason, something went wrong yesterday morning during negotiations held on the second floor of the Adventurers’ Guild, the most neutral place in town. It’s said Halsan Chandler drew his gun and shot the patriarch of the Dole Vince family, then chaos ensued on the negotiation floor. Halsan Chandler had his right arm broken by the younger Dole Vince generation but managed to escape through a window with his clan’s protection. His pursuers were delayed, and by the time they followed the blood trail to the northwest quarter of the town, they had lost him.

Yes, Halsan Chandler had used a tourniquet and medicine; he must have hidden somewhere he deemed safe.

At that moment, the One-eyed man returned with his men. The young man, upon seeing Malin, immediately ran excitedly over.

Malin stopped his soldiers from stepping forward and looked at the young man who approached and appeared bewildered, smiling, "I remember you, you’re a soldier from the 17th Northern Battalion. When I awarded a medal to your platoon leader, you helped him hold his rifle. Your name is... Joe, Joe Wynes, right?"

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.