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

Then, after the team had advanced a certain distance, Malin saw the shattered parts.


Skaven weapon squad? Rat Special Troops?


This thing didn't belong in Malin's world, and if really necessary, Malin wouldn't need to reverse engineer anything from it; he cast them aside, looking with a frown at the sea of rats charging at them once again.


Yes, a sea of rats, because all the rat-men were swarming over in a frenzy.


"It seems as if they're defending something," the elf ambassador keenly sensed the problem.


"Exactly, and even the cannon fodder are not retreating," said the dwarven Great Craftsman, stepping to one side so that his flame soldier brother could get to the front.


"What are we waiting for, tell the mages in the back, mark at 120 yards, fire a salvo of six Flame Burst Spells."


While Malin spoke, he gestured to the machine gun crew on the mechanical body's shoulder, and then he saw the machine gun crew gesturing back at him.


Section 460: Victory (Part 1)_2