"No grenades, but we have this." Malin raised his hand, a blazing fireball forming in his palm, and tossed it into the alley.
Two seconds later, flames burst out of the alley, along with screams that didn’t sound quite human.
The veteran waited for the fire to pass, then peeked out with the mirror again, "There are still two burning humanoid figures on the ground."
"That’s right, I’ll lead, Old Soldier, you follow me, and you two watch our back," Malin said, patting them with a psychic shield.
The spell sounded like a protection magic that Malin wasn’t good at, but it was actually assistance magic, so the psychic shield Malin gave was very effective. One of the young men immediately felt the difference: "I thought I heard whispering, but as soon as I received your spell, it stopped."
"Good, this is definitely an abode of Chaos, be careful," Malin said as he made his way to an entrance of the ruins along the alley.
"Your Excellency, be careful of the backdraft."
"Right, so this time we use this." Malin took out two shock grenades from his spatial bag, put one in the pocket on his chest, pulled the pin of another, released it, waited two seconds after the safety spoon flew off, then threw it inside.
The motion was gentle, and as the shock grenade reached the apex of its upward trajectory, it exploded. Malin raised his shotgun and entered the first floor, toppling a man holding his head and eyes but brandishing a firearm with a shot.
Then he reversed the gun, and with a stock hit, knocked another youngster to the ground: "Clear."
"Clear." The Old Soldier came over, checking under the table: "Your Excellency, how did you make sure there was no one under the table?"
"I kicked the body of the shock grenade in, and it seemed to hit something," Malin replied.
The Old Soldier looked again, this time noticing the damage on the wall and the body of the shock grenade visible through the hole. If there was someone there, they were most certainly dead.
"Follow me, Old Soldier."
The Old Soldier looked up, grunted assent, and followed Malin into the corridor.
This part of the building had collapsed, leaving only one side of the staircase usable. Malin glanced at the location of the doorway on the second floor, motioning for the Old Soldier to help him up from the other side. After reaching the second floor, Malin waited for them to ascend the stairs.
The staircase to the third floor was completely destroyed. Malin confirmed they couldn’t climb up from their position, so he threw another shock grenade into a room.
After the explosion, Malin rushed into the room, blasting the guy covering his ears at the window out of it, then the second shotgun blast smeared the one covering his face against the wall.
Then, using the shotgun as a bludgeon, Malin knocked down a strong-looking human, delivering an extra kick to finally stop the high-decibel screaming of the unfortunate guy.
Glancing at the firearm at his feet, Malin figured this was the guy who shot at him.
Picking up a gnome who was squatting and covering his head, Malin tossed him out the window, then scanned the room, spotting a large wardrobe. Pointing at it, the Old Soldier, who had already fixed a bayonette to his firearm, pried open the wardrobe door, revealing a woman with a dagger who screamed and lunged out.
Watching her impale herself on the bayonette, Malin shrugged his shoulders, reloaded his double-barreled shotgun with hollow point bullets, and fired at a wooden door of a closed compartment, promptly followed by cursing from inside.
So Malin aimed at the general direction of the sound and fired, and immediately the sound of something heavy hitting the floor echoed through the room.
Malin reached out, pushed the door open and took a glance, finding a large-bearded Fatty lying on the ground with a bloody hole in his chest, obviously having kicked the bucket.
He took a look around the room, a simple sleeping mat, no place to hide... Malin pushed the door forcefully and then dragged out a Half-human, screaming and struggling, from behind it.
The old soldier had already prepared a rope, tying one end into a slipknot and the other to the doorknob. He looked at the Half-human in Malin’s hand, "Although we are on the second floor, I made sure the length was sufficient, there won’t be a situation where it’s too long."
"Is this also your tradition?" Malin checked the Half-human and noticed he carried an air of Chaos, but looking at the wounds on his body, he seemed more like a slave.
"Yes, in the North, this is what we did when dealing with Chaos towns, only dead Chaos are good Chaos," said the old soldier, looking at Malin.
After thinking for a moment, Malin eventually shook his head, "Tie his feet and hang him down. We can’t possibly kill everyone; he’s so afraid of death, he would make a good candidate for questioning."
"That’ll work," the old soldier took over the Half-human, tied the little thing up, and then hung him out of the window.
Then the old soldier gave all the corpses an extra stab, before following Malin downstairs.
"Who could these guys be?" Malin felt something was off as he went downstairs—why did these guys attack him? Could they be members from the camp who couldn’t retreat in time and thus sacrificed themselves to draw attention?
When did Chaos cultists acquire such influence?
Malin scoffed at himself, then pushed the door open and waved at two young lads flitting across the street, "Go back and bring over that lad named Cain and the old Bishop from the Church of the War God."
So the two youngsters ran off quickly.
Getting the Bishop to bring people over was to secure control of the place; asking for Cain was to let him sense around again to see if he could detect anything.
The old soldier sat down on the ground nearby, took out a cigarette, lit it up, took a deep drag, and after blowing out the smoke, he looked at Malin, "Sir, have you also served as a soldier?"
"I’ve only seen some combat manuals and had some thoughts about what to do," Malin said with a smile, telling a harmless lie—he certainly couldn’t tell the old soldier that in his past life, he’d learned these things, and even used them.
The old soldier took another puff of his cigarette, "Then you really are the genius everyone talks about. Watching your actions, you’re more organized than anyone I’ve ever seen. When you shot the target through the wall on the second floor just now, I was almost startled." He looked at Malin, "Being able to fight alongside you in my twilight years is truly an honor."
"Don’t say that, you did well, too. By the way, how old are you?" Malin asked, curious about the old man’s age.
"Fifty-five years old. I joined the Union army at twenty-two and retired at forty-four," the old man said after taking the last puff, then tossed the cigarette butt aside and stood up, "When you get old, you truly understand what it means to be past your prime. But seeing a vibrant young person like you, I feel that all the sacrifices by our generation were worth it. You and your generation will stand against the Chaos tides just like ours did..." He paused, smiling awkwardly, "It’s embarrassing to say, but I joined the army in the last few years of the Tide of the Dead, and these words, they were what the company commander taught us. He said... if possible, just remember that they once came to this world."
Malin pursed his lips, and finally squatted down, pulled out half a pack of cigarettes from his Spatial Bag. He’d gotten them in Parol City from the body of a City Guard who had died in battle. Having been in the Spatial Bag for a long time, they seemed to still be good, "Here, try this."
"Thank you, Sir. This is some good stuff from Parol City," the old smoker smiled as he took the cigarette, "By the way, how do you have cigarettes?"
"I got them in Parol City, from a poor fellow who didn’t have the chance to tell me to remember him, but I think I’ll remember all of them... Don’t worry, old soldier, every conscientious person will not forget you," Malin said as he stood up and smiled.
The old soldier looked at Malin and eventually nodded affirmatively, "I believe what you say, Sir."