Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

"What the hell happened to that little devil's head?"

As soon as Colin pushed open the front doors of the Church, he saw the bandages and gauze on the head of the little devil he had brought back yesterday. He turned his head to glance at the Mowish princess who had stayed behind yesterday, "Dear Margaret, can you clear up my confusion?"

So, the elder sister told an embellished story about why Malin's head ended up wrapped like a turban.

"You're saying this kid drew blood from that girl's tail, ignorance truly is fearlessness, huh." Colin shook his head, thinking that considering the temper of cat-people, this kid was lucky to be alive; it must have been a beating, "He must have been hit, right?"

"No, he was bitten." The elder sister chuckled and shook her head, signaling that Colin's guess was off the mark.

"Bitten, pfft." The young Carterburg supervisor nearly laughed out loud—Panso cat-people often retaliate when threatened, ranging from grabbing any handy object to striking directly, and if circumstances allow, using their mouths is also accepted.

Of course, not just anyone is graced with the 'privilege' of being gnawed on the head. Usually, only their kin or friends are indulged by the younglings in such a manner. In between retaliation and confusion, the youngling's first instinct is to bite, then decide based on the situation whether to bite a second time or abandon further attacks.

"Speaking of which, how did this little devil get his sister to forgive him?" Colin looked curiously at the little devil lying on his own sister's lap; the two kids were simply sitting and lying on the sofa, which made Colin, an only child, a bit envious.

"Using the interest from his prize money advance and the third-party usage rights of his savings card, he's a truly good older brother," said the elder sister in response.

"Yeah, a good brother indeed." Colin smiled and then approached the youngster, "Malin, in half an hour we'll start the spell formation check. What kind of magic do you hope to have a high affinity with?"

.........

Malin turned his head, looking at the supervisor in front of him, referring to the affinity for spell formations that practitioners of this world classify for various types of magic.

Firstly, in the Ancient Era, spell formations were categorized into six major types: light and dark, wind and fire, water and earth.

Later, spell formations were classified by their types into blessings, curses, enhancement, shaping, assistance, and protection.

Among these, blessings, enhancement, and protection spells were the most retained in the Church, whereas curses and shaping spells were more common in the guilds. As for assistance spells, due to their broad utility, they were extensively preserved in both the Church and the guilds.

To tell the truth, after confirming his talent for immunity to mind-control spells, what Malin hoped for the most was to have an affinity for blessing and protection spells—to have the thickest armor, withstand the harshest beatings. You only have the privilege to be reckless if you are alive; without a life, there's no recklessness possible.

In the classification of spells in this world, blessings oppose curses, enhancement opposes protection, and shaping opposes assistance. Alternatively, blessings correspond with protection, enhancement with assistance, and curses with shaping. This means that if you gain an affinity for one type of spells, it inherently represents a non-affinity for the opposing type.

Of course, Malin dared not guarantee which type of spell he'd have affinity with. Moreover, according to the spell introduction books he had read before, around seven out of every ten practitioners were unlucky enough to be unable to use spells at all. These individuals made up the entire lower-middle strata of the practitioner system, while the remaining thirty percent—if their affinities were strong, their talents outstanding, and their luck good—most could survive to the end and become part of the upper-middle or even the top strata of the system.

To be human, Malin thought it was good to have some dreams after all, especially since this world was so dangerous; living as cannon fodder isn't pleasant.

Of course, having said that, no matter the danger, could it be as dangerous as the 40K world?

```

Thinking of this, Malin felt that life still held some hope. If he had transmigrated to the domains of 40K, that would truly be a moment to cry like a sprite with a stepped-on toe—there were so many non-human beings there that even pulling out a blue-skinned squad leader may not be something Malin could face without fear.

This place was better, with its steampunk vibes. Everywhere he looked, there was a sense of historical heft encapsulated by the words "riveted steam steel," everything Malin had either read about in books or seen with his own eyes.

Even the vessel holding the Magic Affinity Test Reagent was a thick and sturdy metal cup.

Isn't this amount a little too much?

As Malin was pondering this, the person in charge poured out a small cupful and handed it to Malin, "It's very bitter, do you need some candy?"

What's this nonsense, as an elite office drone from the vast lands of China, am I still unable to down a bitter medicine?

With that thought, Malin tipped his head back and drank the potion.

It truly was... Malin's face nearly crumpled into itself. The stuff was more bitter than coptis and bile put together—though he had never actually drunk such a concoction, the bitterness that reached deep into his heart nearly made Malin vomit.

All the medications he had ever taken combined didn't make him feel as nauseated as this one did.

"Wow, you're something else, Malin. You didn't throw up after the first sip," the lady beside him exclaimed, tapping her thigh in admiration.

Malin turned his head to glance at the lady, somewhat confused as to why she said that.

"Well... usually, a child as young as you would vomit at least four to five times before getting used to its taste. It's my first time seeing someone like you who shows no reaction after just one gulp," the man in charge sighed, placing the small metal cup back on the table, "Now, touch these slabs one by one. They will detect your affinity for spell formations."

You should have said that earlier. I've already swallowed it!

Malin rolled his eyes.

"I've always wanted to mention to the Archbishop that 'Testing Slab' is too common of a name. As something that can change the fate of a child, we should call it a 'Fate Slab'... Wow..." The lady marveled at the red light emitting from the first slab Malin touched, "That's an affinity for shaping magic."

"Judging by the ten-point spectral measuring device, seven points, a respectable score. Many professionals with shaping affinity never reach seven in their lifetimes. Continue, Mr. Malin, your fate has already been altered. Let's see now how many obstacles fate has smoothed out for you," the man in charge put down the face-covering measuring device he had been holding.

Malin placed his hand on the second slab: no light. "No light," Malin said, a little disappointed.

"Eight points, Spectral Flame burning brightly in my view," said the man in charge, holding the measuring device with a sigh, "Curse Formula. My child, it seems the Church might not be the place for you."

"But you must complete all the tests," the lady encouraged, "Mr. Malin, come on, continue."

So Malin placed his hand on the third slab, and in an instant, he felt as if he was blossoming, with even the illusion of flowers appearing on the slab.

```

"Assistance Magic... nine points?" The person in charge put down the all-metal Measuring Slab, his face a picture of bewilderment. He glanced at Malin and then turned to look at the young lady, "Perhaps we need a new Measuring Slab?"

The test was interrupted, and the person in charge went to fetch two new testing devices. Besides himself and the young lady each with a device, there was also an old man with white temples but no beard who entered the testing room. He picked up the device that was thought to be broken.

"Repeat the test for the third Testing Slab."

Malin repeated the test.

"Eight and a half points." Mr. Person in Charge stood there dumbfounded.

"Nine points." The lady's voice was all tremulous.

"Nine points," the old man set down the Measuring Slab, "Please continue, child."

So Malin placed his hand on the fourth Testing Slab.

"Protection Spells, two points." This time, Mr. Person in Charge seemed somewhat relieved, "Finally, something normal," he sighed.

"Two and a half points," the young lady said, setting down the device to look at Mr. Person in Charge.

"Two and a half, Colin, your device is off by half a point," the old man said, setting down his device and looking at Mr. Person in Charge.

So the person in charge was named Colin.

But what did Protection Spells with two and a half points mean? Malin pursed his lips, it seemed that stacking the heaviest armor was out of the question.

"Continue, dear Mr. Malin," Colin also pursed his lips.

So Malin placed his hand on the fifth Testing Slab.

"Reinforcement, one point?" Mr. Colin turned to look at his colleague.

"Yes, one point," the young lady nodded.

"Indeed, one point. It seems our Mr. Malin is somewhat unbalanced, but nonetheless, seven points in Energy Sculpting, eight points in Curses, and nine points in Assistance are more than enough to make you a very strong Professional. Congratulations to you, child favored by Fate," the old man nodded to Malin with a smile.

"So, do we need to conduct the final test?" Malin asked, looking at the old gentleman.

"Why not? At least we should fill in all the blanks on this test paper, shouldn't we?" the old man replied with a smile.

So Malin withdrew his hand from the fifth Testing Slab and then looked at the last slab, placing his hand upon it.

In that instant, a warm white light engulfed the entire testing room, and before Malin could grasp what was happening, the light disappeared, and the slab under his palm had cracked.

Colin, holding the testing device, was stunned for a long while before putting down the device in his hand. He looked at the old man, "Is the slab broken?"

"Change the slab," said the old man, glancing at the device in his hand, "fetch the slab yourself."

So, Colin ran out quickly.

And the young lady at this moment raised her hand, "I think... it's not that the slab is broken."

"Why?" the old man turned his head towards her.

"I, I fell down yesterday, and my knee was hurting, but now it's better," the young lady said, hesitating as she looked at Malin, "This child... might truly be a child favored by Fate."

The old man did not answer, nor did he dispute her, only turning his head and moving his neck, eventually remaining silent until the arrival of a new slab.

"This is a Measuring Slab used by Professionals, able to withstand greater Spiritual Energy," he said, placing the slab in front of Malin, "Come, child, try this."

Malin placed his hand on the new slab.

Once again, a warm light appeared in the testing room, and this time the slab did not crack; the light persisted for about a minute before it began to fade.

Colin set down the testing device he was holding, "Ten... ten points?"

"Ten points," the old man set down his device, "My teeth aren't hurting anymore."

And the young lady, setting down her device, "Curses eight points, Blessing ten points, this is... this is...?" the young lady stumbled for words, thankful for Mr. Colin, "What an immense favor."

"You are truly astonishing, child. There really are geniuses in this world, and true lucky ones at that, and you are one of them," the old man looked at Malin, "Child, would you like to learn from me?"

Malin thought for a moment and then nodded, "I feel extremely honored. May I inquire your esteemed name, sir?"

"Hoffman Sherington, Archbishop of Carterburg diocese, and you will be the last Apprentice I will teach," the old man stepped beside Malin, placing his hand on Malin's head, "I will guide you along the path of supreme goodness."

Wait a minute, even though this is the world of steam punk fantasy from the Middle Ages in 1840, why did the atmosphere suddenly become so heavy?