"I can only try my best to teach them, hoping that some of them will live until the end of the Tide of the Dead," Lady Karlmo mentioned this with some melancholy. To Malin, her sadness seemed completely normal, for the Tide of the Dead was perilous, with the entire world facing an invasion from Chaos. Whether in the Western or Eastern parts, Asia or Europe, the whole of human civilization had to confront this indiscriminate catastrophe.
Thinking this far, Malin addressed the children on the field: "Madam, I will do everything within my power to arm these children."
"I know. I have heard of the performance of your workshop’s weapons in the North. They say casualty rates have decreased by at least seventy percent, right?"
"Yes," Lady Karlmo referred to a figure that Malin was rightfully proud of.
According to the military statistics of the Northern Kingdom, units equipped with firearms from Malin’s workshop had an amount of fire per unit time that was tens of times higher than those using muzzle-loaded firearms.
Under the same circumstances, a Chaos unit could break through the line and perform well in exchange against a unit with muzzle-loaded firearms. But facing the new units, equipped mainly with breech-loading bolt-action firearms, and Elite units even with semi-automatic firearms, the same Chaos units were unable to accomplish breaching the line.
Now that a large number of new firearms had been distributed, the Northern Kingdom’s military discovered that their troops were becoming increasingly effective in combat. Units that fought hard battles against Chaos and had more veterans than recruits were everywhere.
Seeing everyone as Elite was the happiest annoyance for those in the military at the moment.
Similarly, after confirming the current state of all their front-line units, ensuring that the veterans got no sawdust, sand, and stones mixed in their bread became the most crucial task for the Marshals and the General Staff — a simple affair, since Malin had already given them a hand before. Now, all they needed to do was to maintain it.
This was also quite straightforward. Everyone had witnessed Malin’s thunderous methods. He was the Chief Priest of the Goddess of Harvest Church, an Honorary Paladin of the Church of Justice, and a God-chosen Champion—and even a secret one not openly mentioned. Anybody contemplating to give him trouble had better think about the strength of their own neck first.
With these thoughts, Malin was relatively optimistic about the situation in the North. In his opinion, as long as the military leaders in the Northern Kingdom didn’t lose their minds and the intelligence of the front-line troops didn’t fail, the current strength of Chaos was still manageable. Even against those invisible Chaos Demons, crude methods were effective — scattering empty ration cans, silver imbued caltrops, and various noise-making trigger mechanisms in front of the defensive lines worked quite well. There was a battle report just now: earlier today, an attack had been successfully contained due to early detection, with only twenty percent casualties incurred by the defenders during the reorganization. With the support of reinforcements, these demons were thoroughly routed — their invisibility served them well, but because of it, they didn’t even have thick shells, and even longswords could cause them considerable damage.
"Malin, work hard to produce more and newer equipment to arm these children. Please freely drive my compatriots," Lady Karlmo said before she left, taking the new Apprentices back to school.
Malin bade her farewell and took one last look at the tall tower... then returned to the great hall.
A team of Punishers just happened to rush past Malin, carrying a stretcher. Malin glanced over and saw Lady Cassandra Moria, who looked pale.
"What’s wrong, Punishers?" Malin asked.
One of the younger Punishers turned and glanced at Malin: "This lady is injured! Don’t bother us unless it’s important, young man." Since Malin wasn’t wearing the Church’s standard attire, he didn’t recognize Malin’s identity.
Malin saw him as a stranger, and he saw Malin the same way. However, an older Punisher noticed the commotion here, and when he saw Malin, he immediately ordered those carrying Cassandra Moria to turn back: "Lord Malin, please save Lady Cassandra."
"What happened?" As the stretcher was set down, Malin kneeled in front of it and examined the lady’s condition, noting she had three bullet holes in her abdomen.
"We ambushed a Chaos cultist stronghold, the battle is over, but during the site confirmation, a Chaos youngster brandishing a three-barreled muzzle-loading pistol came over. Lady Cassandra was shot three times while saving a young person. We were just going to find Lord Ferreiro."
"Young man, go and call Lord Old Ferrero here," Malin said with a smile to the young Punisher, who awkwardly nodded, said "I’m on it," and then ran off without a trace.
Bippo took out his surgical tools from his private space, and Malin first poured a bottle of healing potion for Mrs. Carson, then asked Old Punisher, "Did the bullet pass through?"
"Two bullets passed through. One did not; it’s the lowest bullet hole," the Old Punisher replied.
So Malin lifted the already cut open clothes, revealing three diagonal bullet holes scattered across Mrs. Carson’s abdomen.
"The intestines sometimes need stitching. This is not a suitable place for surgery; let’s go," Malin said, and with spiritual energy, he lifted the stretcher—the place was crowded, stirring up much dust, and Malin didn’t want to pull Mrs. Carson back from the brink of death only to send her back due to infections.
Carrying Mrs. Carson into the side hall of the temple, they placed her on the long table there. Malin asked the Punishers to wait at the door and took out his surgical tools. With spiritual energy, he probed the bullet that did not pass through and found it lodged against the spine.
This was certainly a headache-inducing location.
Malin felt overwhelmed but also marveled at Mrs. Carson’s luck. With the kinetic energy of a muzzle-loader, had it been a rifle from Malin’s workshop, Mrs. Carson might have had to spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.
Even so, Malin had to be careful. With the bullet stuck there, he did not know precisely what part of the spine had been damaged.
Therefore, he needed to find someone to assist him.
"Kid, missed me?" A voice rang out from the side door.
Malin turned and saw Old Ferrero and the little guy beside him.
"I’ve missed you to death, Old Ferrero, long time no see."
"Yeah, you’re a busy man, kid. But this time, Miss Carson is lucky," said Old Ferrero, moving to face Malin: "Are the wounds confirmed?"
"Yes, confirmed. And with spiritual energy, I found the bullet lodged in the spine. We need to perform a laparotomy, and it’s going to be difficult."
"It looks like you’ve already thought of how to do it. So, do you need someone to help you with the hooks?" Old Ferrero smiled and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
"If you could help me, that would be great," Malin replied with a smile and nodded, then looked toward the child: "Your new Apprentice?"
"Yes, I’m getting old. I need to pass on my skills to a kid. After all, I can’t bring my skills to the battlefield with me. The Tide of the Dead is near, kid," Old Ferrero answered flippantly, but Malin heard the stubbornness and courage of the old man in his words.
"So, we need everyone to do their duty, Mrs. Carson included. Now let’s begin the laparotomy. Old Ferrero, let the kid come up and watch," Malin said. Without waiting for Old Ferrero to speak up, he turned to the child: "Kid, would you like to come over for a look?"
The child looked at Old Ferrero, confirmed his encouragement and expectations, then carried over a small chair and stood on it.
Just like Malin had done years ago.