Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 88 - Seventy-Nine: Fight to the Death (Part Two)

Chapter 88: Chapter Seventy-Nine: Fight to the Death (Part Two)

The elf struggled to control his impulse to rush forward, knowing he had to keep distant from the front line—with the firearm in his hand causing disruption to his opponent.

It could also attract the enemy’s pursuit.

When humans first invented firearms, elves looked down on these iron tubes, because initially, firearms could only shoot a few dozen yards. Past that range, even the best sharpshooters could only manage to hit the ground at their feet.

But as time passed, the history of human firearms began to stride forward. In just a hundred years, humans had shared the newest firearms with the dwarves, those that could shoot two hundred yards or even farther. Some rangers in the elf kingdom had even seen humans and dwarves with firearms that could shoot four hundred yards.

Such firearms were extremely rare—it seemed you could count them on the fingers of one hand—just four of them.

One belonged to the dwarven hunter Karl Mithril-Ingot, who was said to have been named by his foster father—a legendary dwarven hunter with an unfortunate childhood. His village was slaughtered by Chaos, and a legendary craftsman of unknown identity raised him until adulthood and crafted a firearm for him. Now he leads a dwarven patrol team in the Central Mountains, vowing to kill all unwelcome Chaos intruders.

One was in the hands of the legendary punisher of the Church of Justice, the human Jean Faber Reynaud. Like Karl, he was a foster son of that legendary craftsman. Unlike Karl, he had a happy childhood; as the third son of Earl Reynaud, he had a small fiefdom, but upon reaching adulthood, he declined it and became a punisher. He also had a firearm, and it was rumored that a shot from over five hundred yards away was related to him, but he never admitted it.

One was held by the legendary wood elf shepherding the Sea of Trees, Rosa Green-Sea, an abandoned half-elf with the appearance of a wood elf but a human father. The craftsman lord took her back home, taught her hunting and killing, and after reaching adulthood, the wood elf returned to the Sea of Trees to become a shepherdess. Her devotion moved the Goddess of Nature, and the firearm in her hands was the biggest nightmare for all desecrators of the Sea of Trees.

The last one... was in the hands of an elf.

Or rather, it was a relic that the elf had received from his mentor.

His mentor was a high elf, an apprentice of that lord. He was the first elf sharpshooter among the high elves to start using firearms. The mentor often said that his teacher told them when they were young that if people cannot look or walk forward, they will face destruction.

The elf didn’t know if his mentor had been right because he had witnessed his own destruction—the Pure Council of high elves had exiled him. Throughout the years in the human world, the mentor said he had never resented the Pure Council because every race has its own way of living; he had chosen to live outside his race, forsaking the natural path of the high elves.

So, when the mentor was on his deathbed, he handed over the firearm to the elf.

"Child, take it and face the world... I’m sorry, I can no longer accompany you on the hunt."

That was the last thing the mentor said.

It was also the driving force of the elf’s survival.

The human paladins had already ignited their souls, and the elf had seen members of the Church of Justice treat their own lives as trifles more than once. But they were remarkable humans because few were willing to give up their right to live to save others.

He killed a Chaos warrior, his spectral longsword ignored the thick armor on the Chaos warrior, cleaving both the man and his armor in two.

What surprised the elf was that the second kill was made by that child named Malin. Perhaps thinking him too weak, the Chaos warriors sent only their smallest to kill him, but when the young one bared his fangs, Chaos realized that the roles of hunter and prey had switched in an instant.

.........

With a swing of his hammer, Malin shattered the Chaos creature’s left leg. He then flipped the hammer’s head and stabbed the pointed end of the handle into the slit of the kneeling foe’s helmet.

The enormous size of the Chaos creature meant the slit in its helmet was too large, so without any resistance, the silver-tipped spike pierced through the Chaos creature’s brain.

As the howling Chaos creature fell to the ground, Malin raised his hammer high and crushed its head completely.

Ten Chaos creatures had closed in on eight, with two at the back casting spells. Our side had already suffered losses—the dwarf thought his shield could block the incoming longsword but hadn’t considered that there was something wrong with the sword—the Chaos creature wielding it cleaved the dwarf and his shield into four pieces.

The mercenary captain and the half-human, with the help of a healer, barely held their own against two Chaos creatures. The Paladin’s spiritual body slew one Chaos creature, then struggled in an even fight with two others, while another pursued an elf; Malin killed one and the Chaos who killed the dwarf immediately charged at Malin.

As the creature raised its longsword, Malin took a step back, grabbed the gun strap, and snatched the four-barreled shotgun into his hands.

He forcefully pulled the trigger, and four hollow-point bullets flew out of the barrel, each punching a hole in the Chaos creature’s breastplate—although the steel-core armor could only penetrate the front plate, it was enough to inflict fatal damage on the Chaos creature.

The gunshot drew the attention of a Chaotic Sorcerer, who hurled a ball of Chaos straight at Malin. Naturally, Malin dodged swiftly instead of trying to ’catch’ it with his face.

By then, the Paladin had killed a second Chaos creature, the mercenary captain had been felled by a Chaos swing, and his longsword pierced through the neck of a Chaos creature.

While rolling, Malin managed to load two hollow-point bullets into his gun and stood up to fire at the Chaotic Sorcerer.

The Chaotic Sorcerer blocked the incoming bullets with his longsword.

Malin, dumbfounded, watched as the Sorcerer pointed at him.

Instinctively ducking, a black ray shot over Malin’s head from where it had just been.

Malin wanted to curse—what kind of monster was this, blocking large caliber hollow-point bullets with its sword?!

But the fact was, Malin had successfully drawn the attention of another Sorcerer. It was only then that Malin noticed another Chaos creature had appeared beside the elf—unlike its companions, this new arrival wore leather armor and looked like a thief or assassin.

So Malin pulled out his revolver and, in one breath, emptied the chamber at the assassin.

The Chaos Assassin, who had been hunting the elf, had not anticipated that a small fry would pull out a revolver amid the chaos of battle and shower him with bullets. After receiving all the bullets, the Chaos creature tumbled to the ground, bursting into flames—Malin had been using bullets engraved with silver and holy blessings, and had just fired off hundreds of dollars’ worth.

It was money well spent, Malin thought, as he tossed aside his revolver, leaped over a dead tree, while the Sorcerers’ beams of spectral power and fireballs destroyed the tree.

Clearly, the elf had noticed Malin’s actions. He balanced his rifle with one hand, snapping the neck of the unlucky child who failed to cut him down and raised the rifle, aiming to take out one of the Sorcerers.

As the elf got his sights on the target, a pang of pain from his waist made him cry out. As he fell to the ground, he only then noticed the Chaos Assassin pulling the dagger from the wound at his waist.

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