Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

Ails nodded vigorously, "Rest assured, a hundred times over."

Then the Bishop casually bestowed a blessing on the young mage, and, amidst the lad’s profuse gratitude, headed towards the door.

Ails watched as the Bishop approached the door, noting his exit just as an undead entering simultaneously caught his gaze—a moment before flaring into self-purified immolation, collapsing into a pile of undead ash that couldn’t be shoveled up.

Taking a deep breath, Ails reminded himself—Ails, don’t be self-satisfied, being friends with Malin is already something you could boast about for a lifetime, and chatting with this person... are you tired of living?

After some self-reflection, Ails was about to leave when he felt a familiar fluctuation from the teleportation gate.

This time Ails nimbly hid behind a pillar, then watched two seemingly ordinary but adorable girls with square ears, hands tucked into the pockets of their fronts, walk out of the teleportation gate.

This was what his senses told Ails, though at that moment, he had already ignited.

Mother of Life, enemy of all Undead, the god of another world’s Prairie Elves—what in the world was happening today.

Struggling, Ails cracked open a vial of Negative Energy potion and had drunk half of it before realizing that its energy was beginning to shift towards Positive Energy.

While combusting, he dumped the Positive Energy potion from his hand and slapped himself with an Icy Claw—a Negative Energy damage that allowed Ails to live a few seconds longer, long enough for the two ladies to leisurely walk out of the teleportation hall.