Malin stepped onto the platform, looking at the soldiers in front of him from the Northerner legion, who were clapping incessantly because they believed in themselves. With trust, Malin began to speak: "You, you young men followed your fathers to Carterburg years ago. At that time, you were scantily dressed, noses running, and it was I who gave your fathers work. You grew up, you came of age, and ultimately chose to join my factory guard, finally accepting reorganization to become my soldiers, mine!" The soldiers cheered; they really liked that Malin called them his soldiers. Because that way, they could be distinguished from the soldiers in the north, and only in that way would those oppressive gendarmes not dare to lash them. Moreover, because they saw with their own eyes, if their fathers hadn’t gone south, it would be them facing despair today. "I brought you back to this land so that you could return to your hometown with glory, to give a piece of effort to this land. I know you hate the nobility, I know you hate this land that brought you a painful childhood, I know I shouldn’t let you fight for this unjust land! But we have a common enemy, its name is Chaos." Malin took a deep breath as he looked at the soldiers below: "I brought you to repel Chaos, thinking that with a common threat, we humans should cooperate against the enemy... Yet, I never thought that those gentlemen in Copenhagen would be so eager to raise the blade high." "Master, what should we do?" Tuo Jin Spencer shouted loudly from below the stage. Malin looked at the soldiers below; these soldiers were the descendants of serfs and free men who had moved south for various reasons back then. Their fathers either were betrayed by the nobles who were their masters or went bankrupt for various reasons. To avoid their families being torn apart, they moved south with their entire families, witnessing along the way too many corpses who died roadside from losing hope, yet their fathers endured the pain along the journey. Thus, they earned the right to grow up, the right to study in public schools, and more importantly, to join the factory and factory guard now. They were waiting for Malin to give a judgment to those nobles whom they hated. As for the judgment, Malin raised his hand to signal everyone to quiet down a bit. The soldiers, who were whispering, all stopped and looked towards the platform, towards Malin, awaiting an answer they desperately needed. Thus, Malin gave them an answer. "I will lead you to judge all the nobles, hoping that there are enough streetlights in the town, otherwise, I would have to spend my own money to purchase enough streetlamp poles for those who deserve it." With one sentence, it triggered cheers among the soldiers, Malin saw brothers embracing, comrades crying, and even some bowing their heads to kiss their most precious items. But there were still some soldiers pushing upstream, Malin watched some young men struggling to break through the gendarmes’ block. "Let them through." Malin’s order was carried out, the gendarmes stepped aside, and a leader of the young men walked to the front of the platform below: "Master Malin! Why! Why are you not standing on our side!" Malin was startled, seeing Sudel emerge from the crowd, he pushed through the gendarmes and those young men to his peer’s side, saluting Malin: "Sir! This is Carmen’s deputy." Ah, it’s the Royalist Party, looking at this desperate young man, Malin shook his head: "Young man, before you ask me why, why don’t you ask your King, your Prime Minister, and your elders? The Northism cast aside biases among us, uniting with you, yet how did your elders treat them?" In Malin’s view, these nobles betrayed humanity, deserving to die a thousand deaths. "But they want to overthrow this country! Overthrow His Majesty the King and the Parliament! You are also a noble, Master Malin!" The young man shouted at Malin. "I am a noble, but more importantly, I am the Marshal of this country. In my eyes, some people have betrayed their comrades who stood in the same trench before. Those Northists and their soldiers did not die on the battlefield, but at the hands of comrades they thought were their allies! The nobles of Copenhagen did not regard those who sacrificed themselves as comrades!" Saying this, Malin stared at the young man in front of him who had his hand on his gun holster: "How about it, are you planning to draw your gun to assassinate me." Upon finishing, Malin stretched out his hand to stop both the gendarmes and the agitated soldiers. "Master Malin! We are nobles! Could it be that to save the lives of these traitors, you want to kill all the nobles? Aren’t we fellow travelers?" The young man, with red eyes, asked Malin. "I walk with justice, with the innocent, alongside my warriors; I don’t need traitors." Having said that, Malin raised his hand, looking at the gun barrel pointing at him, and felt a pang of sadness. "Soldier, I know you are waiting for me to kill you, I know there is pain in your heart. To you, this is a catastrophe, you were brothers in arms, supporting each other just a week ago, but today, on distant battlefields, brothers slaughter each other, just because some believe Northism offers them a future, just because some believe the nobles are the rightful...," Saying this, Malin sighed at the bullet halted before him.