Half-step Purgatory

For a long time, Malin always felt that Fate had been quite generous to him. Although he had to face that life-threatening job every day, as long as he had the lovely Leopard Girl cooking delicious food for him daily, and as long as there was meat to eat and cats to stroke, life wasn't too unbearable. Working a bit harder and facing some difficulties on the job weren't really an issue for a man.
Moreover, being able to live two lives meant one shouldn't have too high demands, right, Mr. Different-Kind?
Having said that, and without waiting for an answer, the young man snapped his fingers, and the white flame on his fingertip lit the tobacco in his other hand, then he flicked it towards the non-human entity on the stake.
Welcome to Abield, to witness the last splendor of the steampunk era.
And the madness.

Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

They were hoping to overwhelm us with numbers. Watching those Black Orcs stubbornly advancing in formation toward our side, Malin shook his head—if it were a hundred years ago, the Black Orcs could indeed use this method to combat the human legions, and they would even have a great chance of victory—because in the era of cold weapons, one Black Orc could fight against two or three humans without falling behind.


But today, when humans use firearms to combat the Black Orcs, not only has the manner of warfare changed, but so too has the fate of both sides.


The field cannon shells struck the Black Orc formation, raising copious amounts of flesh and blood, but these Black Orcs continued to advance.


"Your Excellency, at what distance should the machine guns fire?" A bearman ran down from the top of the hill, bowing his head as he awaited Malin's instruction.


"Wait until their main forces reach three hundred yards," Malin said, and the bearman turned and ran toward his gun crew.


Chapter 397: Saving the Collapsing Building (Part 6)