As Malin walked through the palace with the Punishers, especially after meeting Constance, the suspicion in Jason’s eyes finally disappeared. He nodded and signaled for Malin and Constance to follow him to meet the lady of the kingdom.
To tell the truth, Malin did not really want to meet that lady. After all, he had almost been killed during their first encounter, a fact he only learned about afterward.
Although they had turned from enemies to friends later on, Malin was still not fond of such a violent woman who would kill at the drop of a hat, even if she eventually agreed not to interfere with his and Faye’s affairs, but that was only because Lady Anna had made a significant investment.
Subconsciously, Malin regarded her as an opponent rather than a friend.
But in the end, Malin still met with Lady Manli quietly.
She sat in her chair, smiling at Constance as he walked in: "Constance, my old friend, you have come."
"Yes, my lady, I am truly glad to see you safe and sound, especially since our old friends are becoming fewer and fewer," said the elderly man, stepping aside after speaking.
Lady Manli looked at Malin with a smile: "Malin, I truly did not expect to meet you here."
"Yes, my lady, I didn’t expect it either," Malin pursed his lips, somewhat unsure whether he should smile or be more serious.
The lady resolved his dilemma. She sent Constance off to the war room to discuss the situation, leaving Malin alone to enjoy some rare rest time.
Instead of sitting down, Malin began to tally the remainder of his ammunition.
There were forty-two rounds left for the rifle, twenty-seven for the shotgun, ten for the revolver, and then came the explosives... no chance to use them yet, but hopefully soon.
He checked the battery life on his flashlight, manually charged the ultraviolet flashlight with spiritual energy, and then reinforced the strap holding the flashlight.
Jason watched Malin finish these tasks and nodded with a smile: "Mr. Malin, you’re very thorough in your checks."
"Because the careless tend to die very quickly," Malin looked up at him and replied with a smile.
"...You’re right, if you’ll excuse me," Jason said, nodding with a smile before heading to the war room.
Malin turned and took the coffee and pastries from the maid’s hand.
He took a sip, bit into a piece, hmm... it was lacking compared to Faye’s.
If there had to be a flaw, it was probably the absence of the taste of love and sweetness.
Casaman peered cautiously out the window to see a column of Chaos passing by in the street; they were likely headed west to engage in combat with the City Guard and the Church of Justice’s Punisher troops, followers of Nagoth.
It seemed that Nagoth’s followers were preparing to dig through the surface, to attack the underground passages directly from above.
They really were a determined bunch.
Besides that revelation, Casaman had another discovery — these followers of Nagoth were completely different from his own sect, even to the point of hunting members of the Order of the Loving Father.
It was because of this realization that Casaman was able to avoid disaster instead of blindly running into them.
He then noticed a robed figure.
By the build, it should be a man. Although there were stocky women, the person in front of him was too broadly built, his arms thicker than Casaman’s waist.
Could it be a Great Demon?
Wrong, if it was a Great Demon, it would be too thin.
It was likely a Chaos Prince.
That fat man must have really gone all out. The Prince’s head would be the most prized offering on the altar of the Church of Justice, next to the Great Demon itself. The God of Justice might bestow a blessing that would give significant benefits to the one who made the offering.
However, where Casaman was now left him with riches he might never live to spend — from here, he could indeed shoot the Prince, perhaps even seriously injure or kill him.
But facing the vengeance of Chaos after such an act would be regrettable.
Therefore, it was best to forget about any reward.
As he was contemplating this, the Prince suddenly halted, pointed to a house across the street, and a team of Chaos rushed inside. Shortly after, Casaman saw a child and a man being dragged out.
"Goddess..." Casaman whispered, even though his voice could not carry.
The giant killed the man and then, like a vampire, drained him of all his fluids. Casaman watched the man ’fold up’ like a blanket and saw the little boy desperately struggle in the hands of Chaos.
Then, as if receiving orders, Chaos hoisted the child onto its shoulders.
Watching them leave, the powerless middle-aged man sighed.
Why do people worship the Chaos from Subspace as deities? Why do they find such ugliness sweet as honey to their eyes?
Is it only for the sake of eternal life?
Casaman’s hand drew the emblem of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest over his chest.
My goddess, please lend me your strength.
After a while, Casaman made another gesture.
My goddess, please help me defeat my enemies.
The girl sitting on the mist-covered bench opened her eyes, her skin as white as snow, her silver hair long, and the delicate creature turned to look at her sister sitting on the same large chair.
"Someone is calling us, sister."
"She is invoking the Goddess of Harvest, sister."
When the sisters’ conversation reached this point, the younger sister opened her eyes, waved her left hand, and made a guiding motion.