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

Speaking of which, he raised his head to look at Malin, his face not tear-stained, but as resolute as steel.


"The people of the Northern Kingdom, generation after generation, face sacrifice head-on. In the face of the Tide of the Dead, Noble and serf die the same death. Maybe in the mouths of the Northists, we Nobles are placed high above, but have they ever considered why, after every Tide of the Dead, there are always numerous Noble families that come to an end... because these families have lost all their men and women, even children, to the battlefield," he said, unfastening a small metal flask from his waist, unscrewing the cap, and took a small sip.


Section 533: The Winter Campaign (Part 4)_2