Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

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Ails immediately begged for mercy, genuinely a qualified flatterer.

"Alright, alright, if you don’t want it, we’ll leave it," Malin consoled him and then asked Ails if he could deal with the scene, "Hey, big chin, can you gather up the Chaos souls that died on the battlefield?"

·Absolutely no problem, leave it to me, I will definitely be the most professional soul handler you can find.

Ails said the souls of the Chaos warriors were each twisted, not to mention belonging to Lord Nagoth, but as they say, something is better than nothing. After that declaration, Ails pulled a bunch of souls, releasing the human souls on the spot and then produced a batch of Gold Coins right there. In his words, these Gold Coins were of suspect quality, which even a devil might not want, only the least picky demons might have a use for them.

But so long as there was a demand, that was all that was needed. Everyone could get what they needed and have a happy transaction.

I guess that’s fine, Malin told him that if he could swap some ores from the demons, that would be great too. If the other party dared to welch on the deal afterward, no problem, he’d have Nameless and the Terror go wreck the place. Now that Malin also had some clout, he could join in the fun and lay the foundation for his future of trashing such establishments.

Ails said no problem and added that now he just had to mention he was working for Malin Gaiate, and at least half the demons would act very honestly, the other half would also try their hardest to appear very honest—the story of Malin’s previous battle had already spread. A legendary Mortal wielding two artifacts who cut down one unfortunate chosen champion of a god; this tale was currently in wide circulation.

There’s no helping it, news about such divinely blessed brutes tends to spread fast. After all, in this Multiverse, the distance between high-end powers can be considered both far and close; one might bump into them any day.