Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

The Noble God’s local Bishop was a Marquis in Rongma, a title rarely bestowed upon nobility in Farole—usually reserved for members of the royal family. In Sydney, only the Crown Prince held this title, a unique situation for the era.

Under normal circumstances, for Malin to deal with this Bishop would have been extremely difficult, as he was also a nephew of the previous King. Unfortunately, it seemed he held the Deity in higher regard than the royal family. Therefore, when Nova heard about this, she made no significant comment, simply telling Malin to handle it as he saw fit.

This was already choosing sides. Farole’s new Queen had no fondness for clerical power. From her perspective, having her own kin openly contest the royal family’s dignity was a severe crime. Even with divine protection, such a person was a target to be swiftly removed—in other words, such individuals were the most resented by their own relatives in any kingdom.

Naturally, Malin knew what to do, hence his decision to spare Linz. Linz’s confession was a crucial factor in bringing down the Bishop. The Archbishop under the God of Justice joined Malin’s forces to apprehend the man, resulting in a minor clash in front of the Church of the Noble God. Malin’s side, clad in blue, lost seven dead, eleven severely injured, and twenty-one lightly wounded; the Church of Justice suffered seventeen severely injured and nine lightly wounded.

The Protectorate Army of the Church of the Noble God was entirely wiped out. Six out of seven members of the Punisher squad were killed, with the sole survivor surrendering and being spared.

The Marquis was beaten and had both legs broken, dragged away in the street like a dead dog.

Malin believed in total commitment; once an enemy was made, there was no soft-hearted holding back. The only options were a struggle to the death.

And in a struggle, there are casualties.

In the North, Malin’s guard team—ah, now the Seventh Army of the Farole National Defense Force, composed of four divisions—was making headway. According to today’s reports, they were seventy miles from Stadal City, home of the Spencer family.

Their progress was slow, passing each castle and village on the way. Malin intended to teach the nobles by strength what true power meant—the first castle along the border refused passage to the Seventh Army, so it was bombarded for two hours. The artillerymen used cannons for the first time against a complete fortress, which took some time, but the knight in charge and his worthless defenders suffered. After two hours of bombardment, then a round from the infantry storming the collapsed walls, not one was left—they all hung from the castle gates.

With this example, other small castles and villages quickly learned their place. The former remained locked down but still sent some wine and meat. Malin commented that the wine was sour and the meat as tough as wood, questioning which would be harder—the meat or one’s teeth.