After hamring those kids, Malin carried the World Tree Hamr back to the mage seats. When he passed by the Church of the War God’s mage seats, the lady called out to Malin.
Out of respect for a lady, Malin stopped, "What is it, madam?"
"You truly are very suited to the War God’s Path, child." As soon as the lady spoke, it almost made Malin run—what’s the deal with your Church of the War God? Why does everyone have such a hard head? The old man from Carterburg said the sa thing to you, but what was the result?
Thinking about this, Malin sighed, "Madam, I am living quite well in the Church of the Goddess of Harvest. Here, I have friends who are as dear to as life itself. I have a loving partner with whom I share mutual affection, and ntors who have given so much. I truly have no reason to abandon all this to choose a path I do not delight in. So, I must politely decline your kind offer."
"I knew it, my brother said the sa." The lady said with a smile.
Her brother? For a mont, Malin wasn’t sure who she was.
"The Bishop of Carterburg, my brother, was demoted to that countryside because of a little mistake when he was young. But it seems he grew to like it there. He could have returned long ago, but he never seed to want to. In retrospect, maybe it was fate that he was there waiting for you, only your foster father got there before him."
The lady was quite the storyteller, yet Malin felt quite favorable towards her comnts—it was clear that the lady was soone who knew how to speak well, and compared to the old man last ti, she was truly more impressive.
"Perhaps it is fate, madam. I must be going." Malin lifted his little flat cap in a gentlemanly salute.
Just as he was about to leave, he was called back, and out of kindness for an acquaintance, Malin looked toward the lady.
"I have two injured n here, both with serious bone and muscle injuries. They got hurt during the match earlier against your Carterburg team. Would you mind healing them?" The lady asked, her smile sincere, and several half-grown boys being treated on the nearby healing table certainly weren’t pretending.
Malin had intended to open a detection grid and then swing his hamr, giving each of them a whack.
The Positive Energy Crush would surely cure their ailnts.
Then he reconsidered, and decided to simply cast a moderate healing spell—If he unleashed a detection grid, the next second, the arena would probably be awash with blood. It was better to control such a dangerous thought. After all, he wasn’t a Paladin of the Lord of Justice; it wasn’t Malin’s turn to uphold justice yet.
"Thank you, take care on your way." The lady smiled and waved goodbye.
Malin nodded and then jogged back to his ho turf, sitting back down and watching as the senior team from the North was being overpowered by the Church of the War God. He shook his head, "Why is our Northern team so weak."
"It’s because they lack soone like you who hamrs them every day." Instructor Aeth Serk rested his chin on his hand, replying in all seriousness.
Malin rolled his eyes, thinking you really are a piece of work.
As if I, Malin, am such a violent person.
Though he thought this, Malin had to admit that it was indeed as Instructor Aeth Serk had said.
In the four senior matches, only the Southern team from the Church of the Goddess of Harvest won, while the other three teams lost. Fortunately, both sides managed to control their emotions this ti.
"See, that’s the reality." Instructor Aeth Serk said, looking towards the distance.
Malin followed his gaze.
He saw a stranger, a man, talking with a strange woman.
"Who are they?" Malin asked, curious.
"Just two of my friends," Instructor Aeth Serk replied.
Malin grew even more curious—and just then, Instructor Aeth Serk frowned, "They’ve activated a soundproof Spell Formation."
Malin frowned, "Does that concern you?"
"That’s my sister," growled the Quasar family’s brother.
That answer made Malin understand a bit more—how unexpected for you to be such a protective brother.
As he thought that, Malin saw the sister kiss the man.
"Romance?" Malin asked tentatively.
"Romance my ass, that’s not her husband!" Instructor Aeth Serk blurted out angrily.
......
As soon as Zem yer stepped into the Investigation Departnt Headquarters, it felt like he had entered a marketplace.
Colleagues pushed cart after cart of steel ingots towards the storage area and then ca out pushing empty carts.
"I heard there’s a legend from the chanical Plane that opened a passage with Magic Carpets?" He glanced at the director beside him.
The latter nodded, "The chief just confird it; it’s a perfect temporary portal, usable for at least five days. There’s no leakage, and they’re specifically asking for a lot of tal Ingots and so materials. We’re in contact with the Dwarves, seeing if they can produce what the other side needs."
"We’ve really struck it rich. Speaking of which, Magic Carpets have always been replicated based on human imagination. How did they manage to find the real thing this ti?"
"Who knows, it’s very strange. According to the staff who went to the other side earlier, they felt that world was very similar to ours."
Hearing this explanation, Zem whistled. He felt this was not good news at all. Following the director to look at a screen, Zem felt even more so—that such oppressive architecture, a civilization nearly identical to his own world? It was truly baffling.
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