Steampunk Era: Mad Abield Chapter 317

If he were of neutral alignment, that last blow would have left him in pain for at least ten days to half a month, though it wouldn’t have been deadly, but anyway, he definitely wouldn’t be able to stand up again.

If he were of the evil faction, then that last hit to his face, if he could have left a whole corpse behind, that would be the gods taking pity.

"Thanan dueling techniques, how do you know how to do everything?" Mentor Emet Selk asked Malin.

"I picked up a bit, it was the Church mentors who taught me, elves are quite fond of Thanan dueling techniques." Malin said, noticing the half-blood finally acknowledging defeat toward him—a gesture of placing both hands in front of himself and bowing his head forty degrees.

Standard elf gesture.

Smiling and nodding, Malin turned his head towards the competition stands, "How long do you plan to stand there stunned, there’s still some time before it gets dark, need me to buy you some water?"

Thus, the training battle on the stage continued, Malin propped his cheek and watched, utterly bored, the middle-grade apprentices’ combat from other regions seemed like child’s play to him, and even more so when compared to the Carterburg apprentices he routinely trained with.

"Mr. Malin seems unimpressed with these children’s strength," said a fellow Church mentor from another region as he sat down on the bench behind Malin, smiling somewhat awkwardly.

"Well... the older apprentices fight decently enough to watch, but the middle graders are not so good. Many of their bodies have not fully matured, their reactions or strength, neither have reached their peak." Malin, propping his cheek, didn’t turn around, with the sound of an elderly man’s voice, Malin could only tell the truth, he couldn’t just say out of courtesy that he wasn’t bored by the dull fights but tired because he hadn’t slept well the night before.

Saying this, if it were Logan, that blockhead, he might have believed it, but Malin decided not to embarrass himself in front of the wise old man behind him.

"You haven’t reached your peak either," Mentor Emet Selk gave Malin a glance, "You’re speaking to Archbishop Simon Toby."

Malin turned and saw an old man with kind eyes, who waved his hand with a smile, "Mr. Malin is not mistaken, although he looks just a child too, Mr. Malin is a fourth-year student who was refused entry to the contest, you fought well just now. That boy is a member of a High Elf Clan under the Goddess of the Night, a half-blood who always considers himself a true High Elf, you did us a great favor by teaching him a lesson."

"He’s a bit quirky in temperament, not a bad person."

"Indeed, because he’s not bad, it was enough for you to teach him a lesson like that."

The old man seemed very happy, but Malin thought he probably didn’t know that the World Tree Sapling couldn’t kill a good person.

He thought Malin had held back, perhaps everyone thought Malin had held back, but in truth, Malin hadn’t held back at all in that last hit. It was just due to the special effect of the World Tree Sapling: it cannot kill a target of a good alignment, so the boy couldn’t die.

If he were of another alignment, say lawful evil, Malin thought the boy would probably be turning stiff by now.

At this moment, the two teams on the stage finally finished their match, and next up were the Carterburg team against a team from a place in the east called Daze Land.

Malin sat up straight, crossed his legs, and watched his own Jessica leading the team onto the stage.

"The weapons of your Carterburg team, to be frank, are quite fine; I’ve seen them, all standard Dwarven weapons. I have not heard that the Sect Hierarch of Carterburg has a formal group of Dwarven smiths," said the Archbishop in a murmur loud enough for Malin to hear clearly.

"They belong to my Dwarven smiths. They helped forge the weapons for the Carterburg apprentices..." Malin paused for a moment, then pulled a long face, "Speaking of which, old man, none of those ignorant kids wanted to borrow my weapons, right?"

"How could they, the shame can’t be that great," the old man laughed while repelling Malin’s speculation and squinted his eyes, as the fight on the stage had begun, "That werewolf girl has activated her Orc bloodline, no need to continue fighting, Mentor Emet Selk, call off the match."

So Mentor Emet Selk called off the match. The other team’s apprentice leader was unconvinced, but was still dragged down from the stage by his own mentor.

"I feel that the other team was not without a chance to fight," Malin looked at the old man.

He shook his head, "They indeed had the power to fight, but risking their lives is not the resolve to use against companions who are also followers of the Goddess, they should save such resolve for the real battlefield."

Malin raised his eyebrows, very much agreeing with the old man’s point, "You’re not wrong, I presumed too much."

"Of course, your battles are never drills, each fight is a life-and-death struggle, it is normal that you do not understand," as the old man said this, he noticed Jessica approaching Malin after getting off the stage and gestured for Malin to look forward, "That werewolf girl seems to be looking for you."

"Yes," Malin nodded, reaching out to take the werewolf girl’s hand, "You fought well, but you should restrain your power. Today’s battle was a training fight, as soon as you unleashed your bloodline’s power, the other side simply stopped fighting, you wasted a chance to understand your strength before a real battle."

"I remembered that right after I activated it," the werewolf girl said with an embarrassed smile.

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