"Well, it's like this, Miss Executor. If I tell you, you might get scared," Luo Po said, spreading his hands.
"I am an executor under the Pope's banner. I don't fear anything," Angelina responded, gently resting her chin on her hand. Her head tilted slightly toward the window, and in her narrowed reddish-brown eyes reflected the steam cavalry outside, like latte art on dark coffee.
The young man before her, who called himself Luo Po, was clearly a foreigner. His pitch-black eyes, emblematic of pure Eastern lineage, and his casual yet refined black hooded trench coat, along with his faint, elusive smile on a delicate face, all marked him as someone not from around here.
Angelina herself, in contrast, wore a pure white military uniform. The scarlet rose medal on her chest stood proudly, and her long legs were clad in white military stockings made from the most advanced "arcane technology" of the papal state, with just a hint of her tempting skin visible through the ultra-thin fabric beneath her boots.
With her striking appearance and aura, Angelina should have been the focus of attention on the entire "Porkman" steam train. Yet, no one on the train—whether barons of some standing or common street ruffians—dared let their gaze linger on her for more than three seconds. A single glance at her white uniform and the crimson rose on her chest was enough to send anyone retreating in fear.
Angelina sat atop the table in the carriage, her long legs gently swaying in the air. She gazed down at Luo Po, who was seated near the window, her reddish-brown eyes glowing with a sly light, like a fox eyeing its prey.
After all, the young man before her had spent a hefty price to bribe one of the Pope's servants, arranging to meet her on this steam train today, hinting at something significant about to happen.
"Have you ever heard of the 'Pilgrim'?"
Without lowering his voice, Luo Po spoke just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the moving steam train.
Before Angelina could respond, Luo Po continued, "It's the one who, 150 years ago, in front of hundreds of steam knights, beheaded the first Pope's armored humanoid."
At this point, a faint unease seemed to flicker across Luo Po's otherwise calm face, and he scanned his surroundings warily, pulling his collar up slightly.
"That's just a legend," Angelina frowned slightly, the disdain on her face fleeting. "Still, you seem to know your history well. Not many are familiar with such obscure tales."
"Not bad," Luo Po smiled, his modesty underscored by a hint of quiet pride as he blinked slowly.
"I'm an arcane major at Mobia Academy. The reason I troubled you today is because I found this at the steam market…" Luo Po glanced at his satchel, rummaged around for a moment, and pulled out a thick piece of metal covered in steam holes.
The reddish metal plate was badly bent, but the numerous steam holes and the fine arcane inscriptions on its reverse side were a testament to the craftsmanship of its creator.
"This…" Angelina froze for two seconds, staring at the metal piece in a trance. Even the finest engineers in the papal state would struggle to replicate, let alone invent, something of this caliber. The intricate arcane inscriptions and dense steam holes sent a chill down her spine.
She couldn't imagine how much arcane material and steam would be needed to power such an arcane armor. The heat and energy generated would rival that of a small army.
This metal plate could only come from a war machine that had transcended countless eras. The only weapon she could think of with such a design was the rumored "Pilgrim."
Could the legend from 150 years ago be true? The doubt crept into Angelina's mind.
"I hear today is the Pope's birthday," Luo Po clasped his hands, his expression solemn and reverent as he softly recited a holy creed: "May the God of Arcane and Steam be with me."
"You're suggesting…"
At that moment, a sharp whistle cut across the tracks.
...
...
The steam train began an emergency deceleration, shaking many passengers into dizziness with its sudden change. Soon, it screeched to a halt on the tracks in mid-city, still far from the station.
"Strange, we haven't reached the stop yet," grumbled the passengers.
Then, from the distance, the sound of a holy hymn filled the air, and the once-chatty passengers fell silent, turning their eyes toward the source in fearful reverence.
Clang… clang… clang…
Mechanical hooves pounded across the tracks, and steel warhorses released thick clouds of steam from their nostrils, shrouding the entire city in mist. Within the white steam, red lights flashed, the arcane glow from the steam knights as they switched their armor to berserker mode.
Steam knights!
They were heavily armed killing machines, the pride of the papal military. Once activated, the six fire ports and two-meter-long arcane lances on their armor could turn the area around them into a death zone. Their "iron horses" could easily leap across entire bridges at full throttle.
Whenever these steam knights mobilized en masse, it meant either war had broken out, or…
Hiss…
A golden armored carriage emerged from the mist, like a gleaming shark, carving out a wide "track" through the city as it was escorted by the steam knights. The Pope had arrived!
Imprinted on the gold-plated carriage was a massive silver-white holy crown, the emblem reserved solely for the Pope.
The people descended from the train, kneeling on one knee along the streets to receive the Pope's blessing and grace.
Even Angelina disembarked, though unlike the others, she merely bowed her head slightly as the Pope's carriage passed.
But within the train, one figure remained unmoving by the window. Luo Po, still seated, found himself at eye level with the passing papal carriage, as if by some strange coincidence, he and the Pope were now equals.
Luo Po's faint smile remained, his pitch-black eyes reflecting the enormous silver-white crown on the papal carriage, like a silver flame sinking into the depths of the sea.
...
...
"Loman! Loman!"
The people chanted.
In this world, "Loman" was a church term, roughly meaning "submission, for the glory of the divine."
Angelina, however, was still pondering Luo Po's words. That twisted metal plate was a terrifying disaster for someone like her, well-versed in both mechanics and arcane lore.
The "Pilgrim"—did it really exist? This was a machine from another era, a killing device so advanced she dared not even imagine how it operated.
Whish…
Suddenly, the street grew brighter, as if a sun had risen in the middle of the long night.
No, wait. Why would sunlight make a sound?
At the far end of the street, a figure dressed in a white cloak rounded the corner, steam billowing from their armor, making the cloak flutter in the air. Arcane inscriptions lit up inch by inch along the staff-cannon they dragged, leaving behind sparks and metal shavings as it scraped across the ground.
This wasn't sunlight. It was the glow of the arcane staff, illuminating the entire street!
For a moment, Angelina's breath caught in her throat. The sight of the steam armor was so overwhelming, it halted her thoughts.
The arcane energy radiating from that armor, and the countless steam vents capable of generating near-limitless power without overheating, left no doubt—this was the legendary "Pilgrim" who had decapitated the first Pope in the midst of thousands.
It moved.
The steel humanoid leaped down onto the tracks, charging down the rails. Steam exploded from its vents, accelerating it to top speed in an instant. Despite its weight of over 200 kilograms, the iron behemoth glided forward with the grace of a swift swallow, staff-cannon in hand.
"Assassin!"
There was no time for Angelina to think. She drew her sword, activating the arcane inscriptions on its blade.
Even though she knew her strength was no match for this terrifying killing machine, she resolved to face it. Had she been in her military armor, she might have survived a few rounds.
She braced herself for the incoming attack…
And then, the steel figure disappeared.
All she could feel was the scalding steam and the fleeting gust of wind that whipped past her side.
The crowd had no time to scatter. The formation of the papal procession halted immediately, as the steam knights rushed to shield the Pope's armored carriage.
Was that really the power of armor?
In the blink of an eye, the "Pilgrim" had covered hundreds of meters, a white lightning bolt carried by a cloud of steam.
Then, a silver flash sliced through the steam, crashing into the knights' defensive line.
The helmet of the lead knight caved in, his skull crushed, blood spurting from the gaps in his helmet like a sugarcane being pressed. This horrifying strike was only the beginning, as the arcane inscriptions on the staff-cannon glowed molten gold, and the cannon fired.
The arcane shell skimmed across the ground, lifting the earth as it traveled, and exploded within a five-meter radius, flinging dirt and rocks outward like ripples in water. The eight steam knights in its path were thrown into the air.
Against this killing machine, with its speed and power maxed out, the steam knights' muskets and arcane lances were mere toys.
This was beyond anything Angelina could stop!
Two seconds ago, she had prepared to defend herself. But the enemy hadn't even glanced at her, speeding past at a velocity imperceptible to the naked eye.