"There’s nothing much to instruct," Malin quickly recreated the events of that day on the sand table with practiced ease.
Watching those sand figurine soldiers repeat the battle, the mbers of the command center looked at Malin as if he was a visitor from the Outer Domain.
"Your Excellency Malin, your mastery over Spiritual Energy is truly breathtaking, but..." Marshal Constantine, full of puzzlent, said to Malin, "Your Excellency, isn’t this... isn’t this a bit too simplistic?"
Malin was about to say sothing but held back—indeed, the sand table demonstration of Spiritual Energy couldn’t provide them with a true understanding of it all. So, Malin took out a Recording Magic Crystal—this was given to him by the Mage from the Mage Tower after the battle as a nto of the great war.
Only then did Malin realize that while the Mages were ssing around in front of everyone, they had actually sent soone to report from the battlefield.
With this device, the gentlen of the Northern Kingdom, both young and old, could finally see for themselves the destruction that a well-ard force could inflict upon an army with cold weapons, from an elevated position with an unobstructed field of fire—without ntioning the Semi-automatic firearms and bolt-action rifles, or the machine guns that could spray bullets like water, just the group of hundreds in the Mage Corps was enough to make the military envious.
Faced with such firepower, the Black Orcs were nothing more than walking targets.
Thus, what was a proper debriefing turned into a brand-new round of weapons trade show, where the affluent Nobles favored the machine guns. Though these gold-devouring beasts were the greatest enemy of their wallets, they triumphed in the supremacy of firepower. Against the intersecting fire, the Chaos Folk had no choice but to fill the defensive line with their wretched lives.
So well-to-do Nobles liked the artillery. They felt that the chaotic troop charges and those troubleso Chaotic Sorcerers could be easily dispatched with a few rounds from these weapons. Although the sustained fire power could not compare with that of machine guns, they had the advantage of achieving practical results without spending too much money.
As for the various lesser Nobles, they were utterly obsessed with Semi-automatic firearms—it made sense, given that a year ago, these lords were still using muzzleloaders, and now suddenly discovering these weapons that could fire 8 or even 20 rounds with a single load. Even if they didn’t have enough money to arm all their troops, they would buy so to equip their most Elite guard or battalions.
Malin also sold at cost price—a large influx of craftspeople allowed Malin’s workshop to turn the Western and Northern districts within the third ring of Carterburg’s city walls into one giant workshop area. Each day, the ore acquired from the Dwarves and Frost Giants would be transported by sea, and even more goods would be shipped out. The prosperity of Carterburg was visible to the naked eye. Mr. Mayor had so reservations about his rubber stamp in human form, but not anymore.
Now, he earned far more in a year just sitting there than those so-called country Earls (those truly comparable to the impoverished regions of Regensburg), and besides, with so much money, what use was a stamp, when so many sought but could not go—after all, the royal family was still wary of Malin at the ti, and becoming the Mayor of Carterburg was seen as no different than a death sentence by the Nobles. Mr. Mayor was also a gullible figurehead set up by the forr mayor as a target.
Who could have predicted such a prosperous future for a gullible figurehead? The forr mayor did want to pull so strings, but Malin was not interested—considering how sensible the current mayor was, why risk getting soone who might not listen to advice?
Every day, the materials acquired by Carterburg allowed the workshops to produce at full capacity, and the ever-increasing weapons brought a mix of pain and joy to the officials in charge of export taxation at Carterburg’s Tax Office.
Malin gathered everyone’s requirents and sent them to the workshop, then discussed the upcoming defense points with Marshal Constantine—of the original five Marshals, one, Caron, was dead, and Sergei was under investigation, leaving the three Marshals seemingly swamped with work.
Hence, the three Marshals decided to form a mobile force, similar to Ails’, to respond to any issues along that stretch of the defense line.
This was sothing Malin was skilled in, and what the Marshals had in mind was for Malin to lead this unit—given his status as a Prince of the royal family. Even if he was a Prince from the South, his aid to the Northern Kingdom was clear for all to see. As long as he was fighting Chaos, there was no problem in granting him military command. Although many resented Malin for ddling, when it ca to matters of life and death, everyone was aware of the stakes.
Since the military was willing to give Malin this chance, after consideration, he planned to draw from his factory guard troops, a few battalions native to the Northern Kingdom, to form the backbone of his unit. This wouldn’t require military funding. Malin saw this opportunity as a way to train his factory guards—a perfect scenario, what could be better than slaughtering Chaos without psychological burden and with clear conscience.
Hearing of Malin’s preparations, Marshal Constantine was happy—Malin’s battalions didn’t require military funding, and to him, these soldiers were also considered Elite. Leading the military’s new recruits, they could serve a guiding role. With Malin present, there were no worries about morale issues, and with Malin as the commander of these new soldiers, their equipnt was no longer a concern for the military.
It was a win-win situation, so an agreent was quickly reached. Malin received the authorization and imdiately sent a letter to the Chief Commissar in the South, who was on reserve duty. He needed the old man to select four battalions for the initial reinforcent.
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