Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

Maya dragged over a stool and, just like before, the little Leopard Girl sat on it, pulling a small knife from the rack beside her to start peeling potatoes.

Her thick tail coiled behind her, swishing happily from time to time.

Today, Father said he had to go out for a while, with work requiring him to visit nearby Salaman City, so for the time being, it was just Malin and Maya depending on each other.

Father had left money, enough for the two children to live comfortably, and he had also notified the Church, so there should be no problems.

Brother had been focusing on his studies at the Church recently, he must be getting stronger.

With that thought, the wind chime on the windowsill started to move on its own, without a breeze.

Maya looked up, puzzled at first, then hurriedly dropped the knife and potato in her hands and ran to the door, only to see the beautiful mahogany door frosting over.

Quick as a cat, she yanked a chain lock from the door and fastened it to the hook on the door frame, then without pause, she moved to the window, barely able to see outside, and let the curtain fall. The silvery curtain chains glinted faintly, as did the boards of the curtains, stamped with symbols.

The temperature in the room began to drop.

The Cat Girl quickly took a lighter and lit the small stove on the dining table in the living room, followed by the stove in her own room. She hung the board that was behind her room door over Father's bedroom door, and then, looking at Malin's room door, Maya finally cut her own finger and drew the symbol their father had taught her on it.

"Serve God with sincerity, and your actions will always be answered."

The Cat Girl bowed her head, took a small silver flask from a secret compartment under the table, poured the alcohol into her mouth, then, bringing her mouth to the flask, let the alcohol flow back inside. She carefully poured it into the chamber of the stove.

The whole room was frosting over.

Footsteps seemed to come from the hallway, faint but distinct, and from time to time the walls would twist and contort, yet none of the oddities breached any of the defenses Father had laid down before.

Just as Maya breathed a sigh of relief, the small clock on the wall fell, crashing onto the floor.

Looking at the clock's hour hand, Maya remembered a very serious problem.

Brother had no classes this afternoon; he would be coming back.

......

"Not bad, kid, in just three months, you're already able to exchange a few moves with me," said Carlmo, the Half-human instructor, who was as chatty as ever, which Malin thought was fine, considering this was a lady speaking.

After all, according to the intel, this lady had a specific reason for being against him at first, and after understanding her painful past, Malin felt there was no need to hold a grudge against her.

After all, she lost her entire family in an incident, giving her every reason to question an obsessive genius.

Putting his wooden sword back on the rack, Malin glanced at the training room's wall clock: "Madam, I must be going."

"Hey, why are you always in such a hurry to get back, just like those old fogeys? I heard your father has gone to Salaman City. If there's no rush, why don't you have dinner here at the Church before heading home?" Carlmo, the Half-human lady, tried to persuade him.

To which Malin smiled and shook his head: "My little sister is waiting for me at home."

"...All right, your sister has a good brother," said the lady, as she turned and tossed her short stick into a bucket nearby, where it joined its companions.

"With Father working out of town, it's my duty as her brother to take good care of her," said Malin while walking to the coat rack, taking down his jacket and gun holster, strapping the latter onto himself, fastening the chest ring to the front, and affixing the small and lightweight silver-plated chest plate to his gun holster.

After putting on his jacket, Malin looked to the other side of the training room: "Those people are..."

"They came before you, but their progress is not as good. That kid with the greatsword I told you about is in there—the one with the thickest neck," she explained.

With her guidance, Malin immediately noticed the one with a face full of flesh.

A child? He's grown much too quickly, hasn't he? His arms are thicker than Malin's waist, and he looks to be at least one meter... one meter ninety?

"You think he's quite large, right? Yeah, he's a half-giant," she said.

"Then he shouldn't have problems handling a greatsword," Malin commented as he glanced at the wooden greatswords on the weapon rack.

"The weapons for giants are over there, made of pure iron. His sparring partner is also a half-giant; normal instructors only teach him the basics," she said with pride, puffing up her chest: "For instance, I taught him his first lesson."

Malin rolled his eyes, thinking it must have been her intentional tough treatment to swing a real weapon hundreds of times.

Although he saw through it, Malin had no need to point it out. After parting with Carlmo, Malin left the training room, made his way through the normal corridors to the front hall, bid farewell to Miss Mowish from the reception, and walked out of the Church.

Recently, Malin had learned thirteen first-circle Spell Formations and four second-circle ones, after which his tutors at the Church decided he couldn't continue growing so wildly and resolved to teach him new Spell Formations only after he demonstrated a flexible application of the ones he already knew. At the same time, they weren't idle; they began imparting knowledge to Malin about Spirits and different kind.

Under their tutelage, Malin had come to understand that in this world, Spirits were indigenous, existing from the time humans began recording history as creatures of terror. Though terrible, they were at least a native species, well known to all, loving and killing each other, arguably the most familiar of foes.