Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 998: Section 646: Observations in the East (2)_2

Chapter 998: Section 646: Observations in the East (2)_2

"I have a sister who became the emperor’s consort," Old Kay said succinctly in response.

This aroused Malin’s curiosity even more. Scratching the stubble on his face, Malin asked, "Is that guy by any chance from the Roencalm family?"

"No, the surname is Mullier. But the Roencalm family you mentioned does exist; however, that is His Grace the Duke of the East, and has no relation with this clown." Old Kay became somewhat agitated when he mentioned the name Roencalm, and his agitation seemed to spread to Kasdav. The young man sighed, "His Grace Duke Roencalm lost his three sons in the previous retreat, and because of his sacrifice, my father finally chose to stand up. Though I don’t understand why he led everyone to stand on the death ground, I do understand he wanted more children to return to their fathers... I understand his intentions, though I don’t understand him. Grandpa is dead, but I am still here."

Listening to his murmuring, Malin felt a mix of conflict, sentiment, and a sadness that he wanted to comfort but couldn’t voice. This is the damn war, Chaos that lacks any humanity will only drag this world into the abyss of destruction.

"They’re coming up," a soldier shouted.

Malin let Mana poke its head out, the World Tree Sapling surveyed the scenery beyond the trenches on its master’s behalf. Those enemies in Malin’s eyes were advancing, crouching low, heads down, and scattering as they approached the barbed wire ahead.

The Eastern human world lacks all materials, especially things like barbed wire, so they only use it to cover the most important areas. The front line in front of Malin only had half an area that couldn’t be concealed.

It’s certain that these chaotic beings will bypass the barbed wire — it’s too cumbersome to cut a hole in the barbed wire in a hail of bullets.

So Malin adjusted his position with the team, letting Mana fix a few coordinates—it would suffice to cast the spell formation toward the coordinates when the time came.

"By the way, Kasdoff, here’s a suggestion: take my marshall’s staff and go with Mr. Meng to the second trench." Malin glanced over at Mr. Meng. Though this middle-aged man could fight, he was ultimately just an ambassador, and Malin felt that leaving him in the first trench was risky—if they lost him, how would he explain to Miss Meng Quyi when he returned?

Should he tell that tomboy, "Sorry, your father accidentally got himself killed on the Kerch frontline, a bullet drilled into his forehead, bringing out just enough fragments that I couldn’t piece it back together despite great effort"?

It sounds incredibly awkward, doesn’t it?

"Mr. Malin, are you questioning my bravery?!" Mr. Meng said, then flexed his muscles—whoa, didn’t see this coming; he had a bit of a berserker vibe, with muscles looking even sturdier than Malin’s.

Well, at least they look that way.

Malin flaunted his slender arm, "That’s right, I am questioning you. If you can take a punch from me and still breathe, I’ll acknowledge your courage."

"Is it not enough if I walk away?!" Mr. Meng’s anger faltered for a moment, then he left grumbling, with Kasdoff in tow.

"Your Excellency, if you landed that punch, you would likely find yourself kneeling by Mr. Meng’s side, begging him not to die, right?" Old Kay said with a laugh, and then he rubbed his nose, "Thank you, Your Excellency."

"No need to thank me, I must thank Kasdoff’s father and grandfather. Their actions inspired me to do something for them," Malin said, turning to stand.

"Sir, Chaos is still some distance away. Do we need to switch weapons to shoot?"

"No need," Malin said, extending his left hand. Maya reshaped into a long staff, and then in the next second, a hailstone fell three hundred meters ahead on the frontline.

Then a streak of ice storm about twelve meters wide and roughly six hundred meters long began to form.

Such an ice storm is impossible in nature; Malin executed a spell formation and immediately sensed being spied upon from afar. So Malin reached out again, this time pulling an eyeball from a rift in Subspace. Malin hummed, and the eyeball began to burn, and as he tossed it to the ground—before it even landed—holy flames had already enveloped the eyeball. Meanwhile, Maya observed a being in the distance, hugging its own eyeball and wailing, seemingly not human at all.

In the next moment, the located Chaos Sorcerer was totally engulfed in sacred flames, howling as it finally fell on the prairie.

Heh, Malin laughed somewhat insincerely—this era’s chaotic sorcerers are brazen now; who gave it the guts to spy on Malin?

As the sorcerer combust all by itself, the assault of Chaos suddenly became more ferocious. Many chaotic beings relied on their transformed body’s resilience to endure the damage while rushing over.

Then they had no choice but to gather in the open space between the barbed wires.

And here, the ground had already been transformed into mud by Malin’s spell. These chaotic beings crawled and struggled in the muck, desperately trying to leave — machine gun teams had already discovered the place, joyfully executing short and long bursts, flipping the unfortunate ones in the mud.

Malin intercepted a Flame Burst Spell and two shells for them. After such a blatant warning, the machine gun team chose to retreat. Chaos barely managed to reorganize their assault, but they had already entered the soldiers’ shooting range. Malin saw these chaotic beings suffer heavy casualties — targeting ones mired in mud was much easier than hitting those swift-footed fellows.

Malin observed and noticed that some Chaos had already rushed into the trenches on the right flank.

Malin whistled, leading Old Kay and his troops toward the right flank.

The right side was a mixed unit — whether speaking of the Eastern Kingdom’s army or the chaotic army.

The chaotic army was a hodgepodge of entities, making it difficult to achieve unity in battle, but they also left enough methods for Malin to exploit — like the shotgun.

The chaotic troops had just rushed into the trench, without time to unfold left and right; Malin was already there with the shotgun, alongside Old Kay, emptying the shotgun in one go. The two took cover by the trench’s sides, finding shelter. Soldiers behind began shooting, one veteran evidently had the knack for pulling the trigger faster than his comrades, emptying his rounds quicker.

Malin covered him for two rounds, allowing the soldier behind to take over, "Next time, control yourself with your partner, don’t waste all your shotgun rounds on corpses."

"No problem, sir," the soldier saluted Malin.

Malin immediately ducked back behind cover as a spear was thrown, landing exactly where his head had just been.

"Don’t salute me!" Malin cursed, then reloaded and pulled out two Holy Oil incendiary bombs — a new engineering marvel. Malin removed the safety and tossed them out of the trench.

A couple of seconds later, many ignited chaotic beings screamed as they fell outside the trench.

The soldiers had already finished clearing the chaotic beings in this part of the trench. Malin stood up and went to the entrance of the communication trench, calling Old Kay to relay orders. With Malin’s broken Eastern Kingdom language, a classic might be created with just one sentence.

Old Kay successfully conveyed the message, and then the soldiers from the second line of defense came over, their commander expressing gratitude to Malin — if Malin hadn’t cleared this stretch of the line, he would’ve had to rush over with his men to fight desperately.

In such a narrow communication trench, it’s uncertain how much sacrifice was needed.

Malin patted the young man’s shoulder, sweating profusely in the cold wind, and smiled, "You got lucky this time."

"Yes, sir," he said, unfamiliar with Malin, but recognized his face — Malin’s face appeared on cans exported to the East, thanks to some genius in the advertising department.

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