Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

By the time the tenth column was assembled, his troops were already wavering—understandably so, given the common perception these days of skeletal gunmen as bare-bones skeletons wielding a dilapidated one-meter-long spear.

However, Ails’ skeletal gunmen donned heavy armor, and their exposed bones, thickened by growth, were covered in intricate engravings, with pure white soul fire burning in their eye sockets.

When approximately two thousand of these bone gunmen, utterly beyond comprehension, marched forth, the Bone Gate paused for several seconds. Bishop Zhang scratched his shiny bald head: "Although this lich’s army is impressive, if this is all there is, it won’t be enough to defeat the Chaos."

· Of course, I wouldn’t rely solely on this force to defeat the Chaos.

As soon as Ails spoke, skeletal archers clad in breastplates and leather skirts made a dazzling entrance.

"What a flaunting display of opulence," grumbled Miss Meng Quyi, standing with arms akimbo beside Malin.

Ails chuckled mischievously.

· Miss Meng, how can you say that? These firearms, you see, I spent a hefty sum to buy them from Sir Malin himself. This is a huge business venture!

The archer regiments, arranged in columns of ten troopers each, stretched into the horizon even after thirty columns appeared. Unable to contain his curiosity, the Sage’s disciple walked over to Malin: "Sir, what the lich mentioned earlier—are these new-style firearms indeed sold by you?"

"Yes." At that moment, Malin smiled and nonchalantly took out a comb to tidy nonexistent flyaway strands.

"Can we purchase production licenses from you?" The Sage’s disciple looked at Malin. "We have artisans and an artisan guild, not to mention master dwarven craftsmen—they’re the finest in the trade."