Release That Witch

Chapter 100: The Ancient Book and the Relic (Part I)

he next morning, all the witches were led downstairs by their maids. Like Wendy had said, each of them was given a roll of fine parchment by the prince after breakfast. In consideration of the fact that some witches were illiterate, Scroll explained what the contents were on the parchment. After that, everybody signed and put their fingerprints on it.

Roland knew that they barely understood what the contract really entailed. But it did not matter, as he believed they would eventually learn its meanings. He was also pretty sure that these witches would even be willing to sign all their rights away giving the present circumstances. Nevertheless, he did not think it was a bad deal to provide a relatively generous offer. Since he had decided to officially employ witches, he must look at the big picture. All that he had done so far was to create a virtuous, sustainable cycle that would benefit both parties in the long run.

After everybody handed in the signed contracts, Roland told each of them their individual training schedule which he drafted the night before. He then asked Leaf, Scroll and Soraya to come to his office with him.

Nightingale soon revealed herself and winked at the other witches after Roland closed the door.

“I’ve been thinking about what Wendy told me yesterday.” Roland pulled the curtains to let the bright sun rays shine through the window. “She said you came across some hideous, horrible monsters from which only seven of you managed to escape. Even the supervisor of the Witch Cooperation Association, Cara, died in the wilderness. I wonder what exactly you encountered? Demonic hybrids?”

Leaf broke off first. “No, they were not demonic hybrids, but demons from the Gates of Hell. They got big statures and could summon demonic beasts. They had magic power as well, just like…” She hesitated for a moment. “Like us.”

“Demons?” Roland knitted his brows and glanced at Soraya. “Were you there at that time?”

Soraya nodded.

“You can sketch out what happened that day, can you?” Roland handed her a piece of paper.

Soraya shut her eyes, appearing to be a little anguished. But she took the paper and walked to the desk.

As she summoned her power, an obscure quill emerged in her hand, whose tip emanated a beautiful rainbow glow. The quill soon sprang up and started to draw automatically. Soraya kept her eyes firmly shut. Gradually, a vivid picture appeared on the paper.

Roland approached the desk and saw the drawing was so lifelike that it was more like a photograph than a picture. Like a video camera, Soraya’s ability enabled her to reconstruct the murder scene and relate the story on Barbarian Land from the first-person point of view.

By the time the painting was done, Soraya’s forehead had been beaded with perspiration. Apparently, the memory of the incident agonized her like a prolonged nightmare.

At this point, Nightingale also joined the conversation. “Are they demons?”

“Yes.” Leaf pointed to the one closer to her. “This one with metal gloves could summon lightning to attack us. He was also physically strong and powerful. More than half a dozen sisters were killed by him. The one farther could shoot spears several times faster than bolts. They couldn’t, however, launch continuous attacks. During such intervals, I managed to kill them.”

“By yourself?” Roland asked.

“Cara’s Snake of Magic bit and broke the leather tube underneath this demon’s helmet. She later died with the demon together. The tube turned out to be the demon’s weak point, so I killed the other demon using the same method with my hand crossbow. There seemed to be some red gases in the tube. The demons didn’t die until all the gases ran out.” Leaf pointed at the neck of the gloved demon and said.

Roland could not figure out why there was such kind of creatures in the wilderness. They were definitely not extraterrestrial beings, for, from the patched leather tube that functioned like an oxygen tank and the animal skin garb they wore, one could tell that demons were by no means from a higher civilization.

Whether by means of scientific technologies or magic, the ability to visit another planet itself was a piece of solid evidence of power. In the case of human beings, it took men tremendous efforts just to land the moon.

Of course, the demons might also come from some queer civilization outside his knowledge, who had come to this world by some quirk of fate. Above all, now Roland knew that “demons” were not invulnerable enemies who could not be killed.

“Apart from the demons, we also saw a city in the air.” Leaf continued, “It was always there at the front no matter how hard we tried to get close to it. Lightning once mentioned the phenomenon in one of her adventure stories. She said it seemed to be a mirage.”

“Can you draw it?” Roland asked Soraya.

Soraya nodded and summoned the Magic Pen again. After that, she painted the air-built city that Leaf had just talked about on the paper.

Roland looked at the picture carefully, but could not obtain much information out of the blurry drawing. If what they had seen was really a mirage, the real city must be somewhere on Barbarian Land. As to the blood mists that obscured the sky above the city, they could be the breathing gases demons relied on. This explanation appeared to be more reliable than the alien theory. After all, the Impassable Mountain Range was a mysterious area never imprinted with the foot of man. It was perfectly normal that some other races lived there.

Now, the only question left was regarding the ancient book. “Nightingale and Wendy told me that Cara decided to seek Holy Mountain because of an ancient book.” He asked, “Scroll, have you read that book before?”

Scroll hesitated for a while and answered, “Cara didn’t allow any of us to read that book. But I, I once stole a peek at it. The contents are bewildering and at the same time… incredible.”

“Can you make a copy of it? Let me take a look.”

“What the book says isn’t true, Your Highness. The non-existence of Holy Mountain has already shown it’s a lie.” Scroll sighed and raised her right hand. “I hope you won’t be too absorbed by what’s written.”

A gilded book emerged in the air, with its front and back covers spread open. The book pages in between swiftly flipped through. It then abruptly closed and descended on Scroll’s hand. “Your Highness, I hope you read it alone because I don’t want the rest of our sisters to become as stubborn and radical as Cara.”

Roland took the book and replied, “Got it.”

After all the witches left the office, Nightingale silently showed up by the couch. She raised the skirt of her robe, cocked her feet on the stool and then started to chew dried fish like she always did.

“Don’t you want to take a look?” Roland asked her smilingly.

Nightingale dismissed it contemptuously. “I’m not interested in what a crazy old witch was obsessed with.”

Roland shook his head and returned to the desk. He opened the book with great care as if the book had possessed some real magic power.

Just like what Scroll had said, most of the contents were difficult and inarticulate. It appeared that the wording and the grammars were also out of date. The book recorded everything from the Bloody Moon to the giant stone gate, but just not Holy Mountain. In fact, other than a few phrases here and there, the rest was simply a bunch of jibber-jabbers. To conclude, Roland recognized every single word in the book, but could not make any sense out of them. He wondered whether the missing information resulted from the hasty manner in which Scroll had read the book, or the book was simply incomplete as it was.

Roland ignored the tedious paragraphs in the middle and directly skipped to the end. Only the first few pages of the big book contained some contents. The latter part of the book, however, was totally blank. On the last page, the handwriting changed abruptly. The earlier neat handwriting suddenly turned into a sort of scribbles, as if the author had written them in a rush. The contents, nonetheless, started to become clearer and more coherent.

The first sentence read, “We failed. It was impossible for common people to defeat demons.”

Chapter 101: The Ancient Book and the Relic (Part II)

quot;What does that mean?” Roland wondered while stroking that line of the sentence. “Has the author of the ancient book fought against the monsters on Barbarian Land?” As he continued to read, more information came into sight…

“The number of demons increased while ours decreased.”

“Even God’s Stones of Retaliation failed to stop them. These enemies were so ferocious and frightening that they could easily quash our resistance just with their monstrous, unparalleled physical strength. They didn’t even need to summon their magic power.”

“Holy City of Taquila had fallen, and we scattered to run for our lives.”

“Across mountains and rivers, we strove to stay as far away from the Gates of Hell as possible.”

“But where can we take our refuge next time? ”

“Nonetheless, I don’t need to worry about this problem anymore. I’m dying, Natalia.”

“Demons’ power is destroying my health. My illness is now beyond any medical treatment.”

“I write these in hopes that you can help me with something.”

“Alice’s experiment of God’s Punishment Army is almost completed. It was a great success. These extraordinary warriors are capable of competing against demons. However, she has forgotten that even if the God’s Punishment Army wins the battle, the victory won’t be ours.”

“That’s right. God’s Punishment Army will bring us nothing but devastation.”

“Go stop her, for this is something only you can achieve.”

It was not a long paragraph. After skimming it through, Roland sank into thoughts and tried to put himself in Cara’s shoes.

Suppose Cara did not know the existence of demons and replaced the word “demons” with “witches” in this paragraph, she would easily make the assumption that the church’s army was defeated by witches. Combining this assumption with the afloat rumors that witches were demon’s accomplices, whose magic power came from the Gates of Hell, Cara would readily jump to the conclusion that the church endeavored to cover up the fact that the Gates of Hell was the entrance of Holy Mountain. For hundreds of years, witches had been looking for their Holy Mountain for an eternal life. That was why the number of witches increased while the church’s army decreased.

Of course, there were quite a few points in this speculation that did not sound plausible. For example, the “monstrous, unparalleled physical strength” was definitely not a faculty possessed by witches. Another peculiar theory was that witches crushed the church’s army despite the influences of God’s Stones of Retaliation. Roland did not know what exactly made Cara resolve to come to Barbarian Land. Had her fervent eagerness to find Holy Mountain clouded her judgment? Or rather, the real reason behind her decision was actually hidden in the part Scroll had missed?

Roland preferred the latter conjecture.

At least he now knew that the last page of the book was talking about demons, a real foreign race, rather than witches.

But it did not answer his questions. Instead, it created more.

When had the church had a battle with demons?

Roland rummaged the memory of fourth prince’s, but could not find anything. The church had established its general headquarter in the north after the Battle of Faiths, for the purpose of preventing demonic beasts from invading the inner land from the ravine. Later, they had built a magnificent stronghold city on the plateau of Hermes and had named it New Holy City. The two connected cities, one high and the other low, were both used to defend against demonic beasts instead of demons. As to the name “Taquila”, Roland had never heard of it.

If such stories were true, the church had no reason to keep them from the public. In the church’s history books, every major battle the church had won were recorded in great details. The church people would elaborate on each victory they had gained to manifest their glorious achievements. It seemed strange, however, that they failed to mention anything about the battle against demons, for such a fight was absolutely more intense and worthy to be advertised than the ones with demonic beasts or witches.

The last question was in regard to the God’s Punishment Army.

Evidently, this church member who wrote the book did not wish to build such an army. So, he asked somebody else to stop the experiment that appeared to be successful. Roland only knew the church had the Judgement Army but had never heard of the God’s Punishment Army. Of course, there was also a big chance that the former Prince Roland was too ignorant and had not been provided with such information.

Roland did not understand why the writer thought the God’s Punishment Army would bring destruction. From its description, the army seemed to be as powerful as demons. If this was the case, it could but greatly benefit the church.

These two arguments were probably what Scroll felt inconceivable.

“Do you know where Cara got this misleading ancient book?” Roland looked up and glanced at Nightingale.

“By the time I joined them, they had been looking for Holy Mountain already.” Nightingale muttered with a mouthful of dried fish between her teeth. “But Wendy once told me the Witch Cooperation Association was initially not an association at all. It was just a small group of a few witches who happened to gather at Seawindshire, among whom were Cara, Wendy and Scroll. They later found a secret meeting spot in the Eastern Forest not far away from Seawindshire, which, unexpectedly, appeared to be the entrance to an underground relic.” She swallowed the snack and licked her lips. “But only Cara went down there.”

“Was the ancient book found in the relic?”

“Well, that’s what Cara claimed.” Nightingale twitched her mouth. “After that, more witches joined the group. Someone might accidentally expose their traces during a meeting. So, one day, the church sent a great number of Judgement Army and surrounded the forest. During that raid, more than a dozen witches were killed. It was at that time that Cara made up her mind to go to the Impassable Mountain Range and seek Holy Mountain. From then on, they started to call the group the Witch Cooperation Association and regard the search for Holy Mountain as its members’ ultimate goal.”

Roland was absorbed in thoughts after hearing the account. His knowledge of mythology was so limited that anything related to histories or folklores just escaped his mind. The ancient book did not specify the year, so he had no idea whether other history books recorded such a battle. As the soldiers in that battle had all passed away, Roland thought the only way to figure out what had happened was to explore the relic in person.

Nonetheless, Roland knew it was impossible. The Eastern Forest was too far. His current priority was to develop his territory rather than travel across the whole Kingdom of Graycastle on a whim.

Roland paced to the window and looked at the garden down there through the French window. The witches were training themselves as he had instructed. Now, he had 12 witches in total working for him, and it was time to formally establish an organization.

He did not plan to set up any guidelines or regulations for the organization, for the organization was essentially founded for an easy management and to help the witches develop their abilities. It would be similar to the industrial unionism in the modern world.

There were only two simple rules for the organization, which were: a) the prohibition of using abilities to violate laws; and b) the prohibition of using abilities to evade legal liabilities.

Roland was initially thinking about following the example of the Three Laws of Roboticsand formulating some rules to forbid a witch to injure or cause harms to an ordinary person by using her power. But he soon realized it was rather unnecessary. Power to a witch was like a gun to a human being. There was essentially no difference between using a gun and using abilities, for both were self-defense. Besides, an overemphasis on the difference between witches and ordinary people would only widen the gap between the two groups.

Therefore, no breach of laws and no evasion of liabilities were the most concise terms a dull engineer could think of.

As for the name of the organization, Roland had had an idea long before.

This brand new organization would be called “The Witch Union”.

Chapter 102: The Honeysuckles and the Elks (Part I)

hen night approached, the Earl Elk’s mansion was brightened up by glitters of lights. After Petrov handed in his invitation card, he was led by a servant to the hall. The earl’s third daughter, Aurelia’s birthday party had just started.

The guests invited to this party were invariably nobles from prominent families in Longsong Stronghold. From the woolen carpet in the hall and the servants’ gilded black uniforms, one could tell the earl took the matter very seriously. After all, it was Aurelia’s 16th birthday. She had reached an age of maturity and was ready to be introduced into society for a decent marriage.

The music rang while the servants passed through the crowd with wines and glasses in their hands. Steamy food was placed on the several round tables in the hall. Aurelia, on the other hand, like a proud canary in full bloom, enthroned herself among a group of ladies at the corner, appearing to be in good humor.

Unlike the banquet in the Western Region, where everybody sat around a long wooden table, waiting for chefs to serve food which was usually a big bowl of pork, a whole chicken, buttered bread, some golden fried eggs and lettuce, the party here was all about style and fashion.

Having said that, it was still uncomparable to a true first-class banquet. To Petrov, who had lived in the king’s city for several years and knew the real extravagance, the birthday party was merely a superficial imitation.

For instance, the wine glasses delivered by the servants were in various colors rather than pure, transparent ones. Because of this, the glasses could neither display the vivid color of the grape wine nor enhance its mellow taste. The table should be entirely covered with white draperies to conceal the grease underneath. Meanwhile, the food, which still stuck to the typical Western Region tradition, was served in large portions and chopped into big pieces. Petrov shook his head. At least, the chef should slice them before serving.

It was a common practice for nobles to eat before the banquet so that they would not need to bother cutting these big chunks of meat on their own. Since every guest at the party represented his own family, it was considered as very impertinent to devour like a savage. Petrov did not want to become a conversation piece of those ladies.

“Hey, man, long time no see.” Someone suddenly flung his arm around his neck. “I’ve heard you were appointed as the ambassador by the lord again? How’s the mining business in Border Town going? I bet you’ve reaped a big profit from it, haven’t you?”

By the familiar voice, Petrov soon recognized the person as Rene Medde, the second son of the Elk Family, a complete idiot who had been longing to become a knight yet was not even capable of managing his own territory. In spite of this, he was still a friend of his. “Not bad.” Reluctant to talk about his experience in Border Town, Petrov simply steered away from the subject. “Did you put your combating skills to good use at Coldwind Ridge this time? Or you just locked yourself in a tavern at Hermes shaking like a leaf?”

“Damn it.” Rene pushed Petrov in his back, complaining. “You just won’t stop criticizing me, will you? I didn’t even go to New Holy City this time because I happened to have caught a cold on the very first day the troops set out. So, I lay in bed for a whole week.”

“Good. You did better than last time. At least, you saved the troops a lot of trouble.”

“You’re wrong though.” Rene suddenly summoned up a mysterious smile. “If I didn’t happen to stay in bed at Coldwind Ridge for a week, I would probably stay at the freezing city wall of Holy City forever.”

“What do you mean?” Petrov raised his eyebrows.

“I got the news from someone else.” The second son of the Elks whispered in Petrov’s ear. “New Holy City almost fell. Demonic beasts dashed into the inner city and nearly took the cathedral. Fortunately, the church sent out their strongest warriors and stopped them. The armies of the Four Kingdoms, however, suffered great losses. Only very few people returned to Coldwind Ridge from the battle. It made tons of women in the city into widows within just a month. Those who don’t have savings…” Rene winked and made a gesture. “Two silver royals for a night. Hey, don’t look at me like this. I didn’t do anything.”

“Are you sure it’s true? What about the border guards?”

“I saw it with my own eyes. The lord was shocked and got sick on the very day he received the news.” Rene shrugged. “As to the troops… there’s nothing he can do about it but slowly recruiting more in the future. Experienced soldiers are currently in urgent need in the Northern Region. I would have been able to command a group of knights if my family didn’t desire my immediate return.”

“This isn’t the point,” Petrov said within himself. The main purpose to garrison a troop at the border of Coldwind Ridge was to defend against the Judgement Army from the church. Now, soldiers of the four kingdoms’ died in Hermes altogether. Petrov somehow smelled conspiracies. If the church was indeed scheming something, the north of Graycastle was currently as vulnerable and defenseless as a stripped, helpless woman. “What about the casualties among the Judgement Army?”

“Won’t be better than troops of the four kingdoms. It’s pretty obvious because they’re all crazy men who always rush at the very front. In fact, nobody will voluntarily fight until the Judgement Army takes the first move,” Rene said scornfully, “Those knights are always talking about their chivalrous manners. But when it comes to a real battle against demonic beasts, they’re the last to put their words into action.”

“There’s one such kind of fellow right in front of me.” Petrov smiled. Perhaps he had just been paranoid. Even if the church did plot to invade the north, it had nothing to do with Longsong Stronghold. It was something the new king should worry about.

“Unfortunately, nobody wants to employ me—or rather, I haven’t found anyone I want to pledge alliance to.” Rene paused for a moment and looked toward the door. “I saw the Wolf Family coming in. I’ve got to greet them. Talk to you later.”

“Sure. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Right.” Just when Rene was about to walk off, he turned around again. “Have you noticed the handkerchief tugged in the invitation card?”

“You put in there?”

“No, I’ll only put my old socks.” Rene waved his finger. “My sister made the handkerchief herself. Although you’re a lot older than her, I’ll fully support you if you have the intention to seek this union. You have to think about it, man. You’re 22 now.”

Petrov gave him a side look. Rene whistled and walked away with a smile.

Petrov took a glass of wine from the servant and picked a corner, starting to study the bustling hall in secret. He noticed Aurelia would steal him a glance from now and then in the middle of her conversation. The moment their eyes met, Aurelia soon turned away to avoid his gaze. Petrov noticed a vivid flush gradually rose to her cheeks.

He smiled back as a courtesy. To him, Aurelia was simply an innocent little girl.

Just then, a furious voice on one side of the hall drew everybody’s attention.

“What? He really said that?”

“Yes. Cornelius that coward just came back without even defending his honor.” The loudest person exclaimed. “Such a shame on Longsong Stronghold!”

Petrov recognized that man. It was Simon Elliot, a remote branch of the Wolf Family, who married a quite beautiful woman. He had seen the wife once. She did possess some unique charm.

“Like you have a solution to that.” Someone retorted with mockeries.

“Perhaps I can’t do anything about it on my own. But if the duke notices such absurdity, I don’t think Roland Wimbledon will still be able to act so unscrupulously”

Hearing this familiar name, Petrov was stunned for a moment. He was soon intrigued by this interesting conversation.

Chapter 103: The Honeysuckles and the Elks (Part II)

Petrov approached the crowd and asked, “What happened?”

“Mr. Hull,” Seeing the kamon of the Honeysuckle Family, someone replied, “we’re talking about the Lord of Border Town. He wants to seize the properties that the nobles in the stronghold leave in the town.”

“Just call me Petrov. What’s it exactly about him?”

“Let me explain it to Mr. Petrov.” Simon came up to him with a half-fawning smile. “The truth is, we live in Border Town in peacetime on the duke’s order to manage the North Slope Mine for him. Every winter, we take our townsmen to Longsong Stronghold and protect them from demonic beasts. When we returned to the town after the Months of Demons this year, however, one of my colleagues, Cornelius from the Fletcher Family, was told by the Lord of Border Town that his residence was torn down by the townspeople and that he would not receive any compensation for his loss!”

“You’ve got two choices: a) admit that the property doesn’t belong to you; and b) imprisonment and being hanged for defection.” Simon imitated the tone of Prince Roland. “Sir, how could he charge Cornelius with defection? I dare say all the managers of the mine have been doing this for the past 100 years.”

The image of the gray-haired young man involuntarily flashed across Petrov’s mind. Notwithstanding the prince’s widespread notoriety, Petrov, from his personal intercourse with him, knew that Roland Wimbledon was definitely not a person of mediocrity. The so-called “defection” was merely a pretext Roland used to assert his absolute authority in his territory. He had never planned to reason with these nobles.

It appeared that the prince had resolved to sever relations with Longsong Stronghold. Petrov thought that Roland must know very well that the nobles and townsmen took refuge in the stronghold every year. But he still forced Cornelius to make a choice between a death penalty and confiscation of the property. On top of that, he publicized his unreasonable, almost ruthless decision across Longsong Stronghold, which made Petrov wonder what on earth the prince intended to do.

“But he’s the Lord of Border Town. A lord is entitled to make laws within his territory,” The one who had mocked Simon earlier replied.

“Border Town is also under the jurisdiction of the Western Region!” Simon retorted coolly. “Are you challenging Duke Ryan’s authority? The duke has ordered us to live in the town and manage the mine. Now, Roland has seized all the properties of the nobles. He’s defying the six families. Duke Ryan will absolutely not tolerate it.”

“Are you talking about the murderer who hanged Kihls Medde without even issuing an official document?” Rene, who swung by unnoticed, suddenly voiced out. “My father was furious about it.”

“Lord Medde.” Simon bowed. “Yes, that’s the man we’ve been discussing. He’s now become more reckless and defiant than ever. I’m afraid we have to rely on the duke’s power to stop him. I hope you can take a message for us.”

“Don’t worry. At any rate, Duke Ryan has determined to weed him out,” Rene answered carelessly. “I came back to let you know that my brother is currently tied up with some business in the king’s city. So, it leaves me the only person in the Elk Family to command the army.”

“Really? How fantastic!” Simon rejoined in delight.

Petrov’s brows knitted. He knew such a day would eventually arrive after the prince sent out the letter in winter, in which he announced his intention to stay at Border Town. Yet, Petrov had never anticipated his friend would also participate in the war. Ignoring the curious looks of others, Petrov pulled Rene aside and tried to dissuade him. “Don’t meddle in it. He’s a prince.”

“I know he’s a prince, but he’s just a dummy prince among some country bumpkins.” Rene Medde patted Petrov on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. In any event, Duke Ryan won’t hurt a royal family member. Perhaps the prince will surrender soon after we get there. Even if he decides to resist, I’m sure those farmers and miners will flee as soon as we officially launch the attack. Plus, Prince Roland doesn’t possess any combatting skills. I reckon he’ll remain intact during the entire battle.”

[No, I’m afraid it’ll be the other way around…] Petrov tried to say something but eventually chose not to speak his thought aloud because he knew Rene would not believe him. Indeed, he himself could hardly believe that the prince would defeat the alliance army commanded by the duke with only a bunch of miners, either. Nevertheless, a sense of evil forebodings pervaded him.

“Master Petrov, your father wants to see you at home. He needs to talk to you.” A silver-haired steward walked up to Petrov hastily and whispered to him.

“Noted.” Petrov nodded. After bidding farewell to Rene, he, along with the steward, threw himself into the carriage that conveyed him to the mansion of Earl Honeysuckles’.

“Father.” Petrov entered the study and saw Sharafi Hull writing something at his desk.

His arrival, however, did not interrupt the earl’s occupation. “Send me a report on the production, the population, and revenues in the domain. I can plan for the upcoming war in spring. Duke Ryan has issued an order of conscription. After the snow melts, we five families will need to provide our knights and mercenaries to help him attack Border Town.”

“How many people do we have to provide?”

The Earl paused his writing and looked up. “You never cared about these matters. Why are you interested now?” He unfolded a letter on the desk and said, “25 knights at least, as well as the squires and horses they need. The 40 mercenaries we need to provide must be fully equipped and armed. As for freemen or serfs, the number should be over 100, and they should be lightly armed.”

Petrov did a quick math in his head. In that case, the five families would be providing around 1,000 people. Combined with the duke’s troops, such an army would be considered unbeatable in the whole Western Region. It would be an alliance sufficient to suppress the resistance of Border Town, where only 2,000 people in total garrisoned. They did not even need to dispatch all the troops in Longsong Stronghold to gain their victory.

“Father, can you stay at the rear?” After a momentary hesitation, Petrov asked.

“Why, my child?” The earl was a bit surprised.

“I’m concerned with your safety.”

Shalafi could not help laughing. “Do you know what you’re talking about? What danger can there be for an elephant to trump an ant? His Highness has but a few knights and less than 50 guards, whereas our people are 10 times more!”

Petrov would have also thought so had he not met the prince. Technically, his father was correct. Yet… “Father, everybody says a mud city wall will be washed away by the rain, but the one built under His Highness’ supervision stood erect in the rain. They’ve also said it’s impossible to stop demonic beasts with merely a group of miners in Border Town, yet His Highness managed to do so. Not a single person fled to the stronghold in the whole course of Months of Demons this year.” Petrov felt increasingly agitated. “Now, everyone believes the duke will subdue Roland Wimbledon in the same way an elephant tramples an ant. Do you really think this will be the case, father?”

“Enough!” Shalafi whacked the desk, rose to his feet and shook his head. He walked to the wall upon which the portraits of all the ancestors of the Honeysuckles Family’s were hung. “I know you prefer business and trades to battles and wars. However, a tradesman isn’t necessarily a coward. For those merchants who sail out to pursue their enterprises, they put their lives on the line every day.” Shalafi knocked on the wall and hollered. “Look at these portraits. Your grandfather and your great-great-grandfather, they fought with their swords and bows against their enemies before establishing themselves on this land full of beasts, refugees, and bandits. Your cowardice really disappointed me!”

[No, father.] Petrov hanged his head and stopped arguing. He muttered, however, in silence, [You also know that these are my grandfather’s and great-great grandfather’s stories. Look at their fearless countenances and toned bodies, and then at your own wide waist and your puffy double chin. Father, are you still able to fight on horseback?]

Chapter 104: The Planning and Recreation

oland fulfilled his promises on a sunny afternoon.

He conferred Tigui Pine with the title of Viscount and granted him the domain of the south Redwater River, opposite to the river that separated the town. It was a densely-grown forest, an area still waiting for development. In order for him to give up the autonomy of territory, Roland had promised to prioritize the development of Tigui’s territory and divide a certain stake of the industrial land established to the viscount and his descendants. Of course, Roland tactfully described it as an underlining benefit that there would be no work needed to manage the property, he could just sit and wait for the money to roll in.

Tigui happily accepted it. He had never liked these, as nothing was more meaningful to him than fighting on the horse. However, he had diverted his attention to hunting since his daughter was born. In addition, Tigui asked Prince Roland to sell all his land in the east of Longsong Stronghold and move his family to Border Town as the properties within his domain had long been declining. Roland agreed.

The other one was Brian. Roland awarded him identity as a knight and asked him to choose either land or serving in the army.

If he chose the land, he would not be allowed to join the First Army of Border Town again. If he joined the army, he would be promoted according to his military exploits to obtain land like the others. Brian chose the latter, without hesitation.

Roland had a rough picture of how he would use the land.

Using the Redwater River as a border, there was a wide space of seven to eight kilometers and a narrow space of about three kilometers. The land in between the Impassable Mountain Range was the residential area. It could be used as a construction area or a reward for promoted officers.

Opposite the Redwater River was the future industrial and agricultural area, the land could be extended all the way to the Southern Territory. However, it was still covered by forest and hills could be seen some distance away. Roland would have to reclaim the forest when the population fulfilled its demand.

Misty Forest, to the east of Border Town, was an important development point. There were all kinds of treasures in the forest, such as wood, edible fungi, wild animals, and herbs. Wood could also be used as fuel, not just for construction and industrial use. The forest was incredibly huge. Roland had sent Lightning to explore and even after flying 30 kilometers, the end was still not seen. If it were only used for the firewood, it could be used for a long time.

Finally, the empty space in between the Misty Forest and the Impassable Mountain Range was also a restricted area that no one ever set foot on. Judging from the boundary of mountains and forests, the tundish area was vast, a lot larger than the Kingdom of Graycastle. Roland was very tempted looking at the abandoned land. However, he knew that he could not attend to it for the time being as the population growth of Border Town was more necessary.

When he was back in his office in the castle, Roland summoned the artist, Soraya.

“How’s the completion of the task on assisting the City Hall?”

“I’ve never drawn so many pictures in one day.” She looked much better compared to their initial encounter. “I’ve almost finished drawing for today. However, it felt a little strange to only see from a window the size of a head when I was drawing.”

“It’s to prevent your Magic Pen from scaring the people,” the prince smiled and said, “Although they know witches exist, such close contact could easily cause an accident. Thus, I would rather take a hidden approach to prevent them from knowing you’re a witch. It’ll improve it in the future.”

Soraya’s photographic skill had brought Roland’s citizenship registration scheme to a new level. The City Hall had vacated a house for the plan as the archives to store the information of the people. They recorded their name, age, address, relationship status and other information on paper. Barov had briefly totaled the information once during the winter, and the record showed it had expanded a lot in this time. The biggest change was that there was now a “color photo” attached on each personal account.

According to Roland’s request, the City Hall had built a single-access small house in the hall. It was covered with linen from the outside, leaving a square window at the front that allowed Soraya to see the appearance of the other. It prevented them from seeing the magic pen when the witch was painting the portrait.

Roland had come up with a very simple method to get the people of the domain to come forward and register, they would be subsidized 10 bronze royals. The money would be paid by the City Hall.

“I’ve summoned you here today to draw something else,” Roland said. He laid the ready-cut papers in front of Soraya.

She noticed that the size of each paper was exactly the same. They were all square in shape and only half the size of her palm.

“What would you like me to draw?”

“A few recreational props,” Roland said.

He’d had this idea for a while. The witches had basically nothing to do other than their daily practice. Life was getting a little mundane, even to the prince himself. Especially before the snow melted, his range of activities within the castle was limited. Therefore, it was imperative to think of recreational activities and get a few witches to accompany him to relax. ..

The simplest, of course, was poker cards. However, the normal soft paper was not suitable for holding in the hands and shuffling would be troublesome. He could consider making something more advanced with Soraya’s help.

“Recreational?” she wondered with her head tilted. She did not understand what kind of recreational thing was to be drawn on a square paper. “Alright, tell me about it.”

“First, you have to draw a soldier holding a heavy crossbow on this paper.”

“From my imagination?”

“Yes, his armor, body-build, age, the surroundings. It’s all up to your imagination. The only requirement is he’s holding a heavy crossbow.”

“Uh… I’ll try,” said Soraya. She closed her eyes and contemplated for a moment. A set of colorful magic pens appeared in her hands.

Soon, an archer who looked like a middle-aged man appeared on the paper.

“That’s great.” Roland praised. “Let me think what to draw next, ah… Draw a small circle on both the upper left corner and the center of the card. The first circle has a white color base with a gold frame and the second circle has an orange color base with a gold frame.” He tried to recall the look of the cards in his mind.

When the painting was completed, Roland asked her to add a number in the first circle and the symbol of a bow and arrow in the second circle.

Soraya’s magic power was that she could ignore the material she was painting on, so blank paper and the patterned paper did not make a difference to her. The formal pattern could be perfectly covered by the newly painted pattern like a cover.

Hence, an exquisite “Archer” card appeared in front of Roland.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“This is just one unit of the cards, there are still more similar cards to be drawn. I’ll teach you how to play when it finally forms into a deck of cards.”

Looking at Soraya painting with her eyes closed, Roland felt a hunch from the bottom of his heart. Perhaps such a conversation would soon fill his castle…

“What are you going to do? Let’s play Gwent first!”

Chapter 105: The Military Music

cho was sitting on the highest point of the castle, the roof of the observation tower, where she could see the entire town.

She had troubled Lightning to carry her up here, and the little girl would come back to pick her up after sunset. Lightning was currently on her way to Longsong Stronghold.

The weather was very good today and the sun was bright; the river in the distance was shining like silk, running slowly towards the west, separating the land of green from the white snow. She felt a sense of warmth and softness in her entire body. This was different from the hot sun of the Southernmost Region where the scorching rays would burn the skin.

[Even the wind is different,] she thought. The winds in the mainland varied from the salty sea wind in the Port of Clearwater. From the humid monsoon season in the king’s city, to the chilling wind in the Impassable Mountain Range, to the earthy breeze in the town here. Anyhow, the winds here were pure and simple. Sweltering heat or sweeping windstorms were common in Iron Sand City. Winds were visible, with gravel and grit mixed up in the howling airflow, like a black monster sweeping through. People would have to hide in their house or find shelter to avoid the wind. Standing in the wind would lead to the death.

Echo sighed softly. It had been four years since she’d left Iron Sand City. The Osha clan had unfortunately failed in the battle for power. Although her father had surrendered, he was still killed by the enemy. She had wanted to rush forward and perish along with the enemy after witnessing this, but she was knocked out from behind.

She wondered how many of the clan members had survived after these four years.

She’d heard that the Osha clan had violated the agreement of the sacred duel causing them to be spurned by the Three Gods and exiled to Endless Cape, forbidden from Iron Sand City forever before she was sold to be a slave in the Port of Clearwater. However, Echo knew that this was the conspiracy of the Tibia clan. They had smeared the whip with the black oil from the underground and it could not be extinguished once it was ignited. It was this exact trick that had caused her brother, the strongest warrior in the clan to be burned alive in the duel. It had caused chaos to the team formation.

Aside from the scorching hot golden sand, Endless Cape was left with only the never extinguished fire pillars and the ocean, which was more frantic than mother earth. The people heading there would soon turn into bones, and they’d ended up even more miserable than herself as a slave.

When Echo awakened and became God’s Messenger, she wanted revenge. But her ability was the useless sound stimulation. No matter how much she begged the Three Gods, they did not grant her will. After living in the Port of Clearwater for half a year, she was clear that the saying that the God’s Messengers was loved by the Three Gods was simply the Mojin Clan people’s self-deceiving lie. The God’s Messengers were hunted by the church under the jurisdiction of the four kingdoms. Echo had completely lost all hope for revenge since then.

There was a sudden rise of smoke from afar. She looked over to the east bank of the Redwater River and noticed the shimmering green flame moving through the woods. The black smoke of the burning trees combined with the white mist that accumulated from the evaporated snow, forming a gray pillar in the sky.

It was Anna’s green flames.

When she arrived, Wendy had briefly introduced Anna and Nana to the sisters. Echo was very envious of Anna’s ability. Having the freedom to manipulate high-temperature fire flames that could melt swords… If she’d possessed such a great ability when she was in Iron Sand City, none of the Tibia clan would be left alive.

Echo shook her head. There was no point thinking about these things, she was lucky to have survived, especially compared to the people who were probably killed in the yellow sand. Now that His Highness was willing to accept her, all she could do was finish her missions ordered by His Highness.

She cleared her throat and started to sing.

It was a happy song. She could remember the entire tune even though Prince Roland had only hummed it to her once.

Echo was no stranger to music. Seductive dance and flirtatious crooning were skills she’d needed to master when she was trained as a first-class slave. However, this song His Highness requested was totally different. It was full of rhythm and upward vigor, especially when he requested her to perform the music by imitating the flute, it felt like every note was jumping, making people wanted to dance along.

The difficulty was in adding in the drums and strings along with the music at the same time. It was Echo’s first time to stimulate and overlap all the three different sounds at the same time. She had never thought that music could be played like this!

Initially, it was difficult for her to make sure that the drum did not interrupt the rhythm of the flute. She managed to gradually merge the two sounds together according to His Highness’ suggestion by tapping the beat with her hands or feet.

After a few days of practice, Echo had gradually mastered the stimulation skill.

After singing a few times, she stood up and decided to add in the final string.

As the music played, Echo noticed that the minor tune changed again. If the elated fluting formed the body, the passionate drumming had given it a skeleton, and the last seemingly embellished string had given the music its soul. She worked on the beat repeatedly, unifying the three instruments into one; her voice became increasingly higher and finally she was singing loudly.

“My attack power was higher than yours, so I won.”

Roland put his final card on the table, and Soraya sat opposite to him. She covered her face and cried softly in awe.

“Let’s play another round,” she said after a moment of contemplation. She gathered the cards again and said, “I’ll draw your 10 cards this time.”

“Ahem,” Roland coughed and said, “It’s getting late and I still have something to do, you can play with someone else.”

After making a roughly sufficient set of cards, replication was the next step. Soraya’s drawing skill was comparable to the copier machine when the template was in front of her. Soon, Roland had a few sets of Gwent cards.

Hence, Soraya became his first opponent.

After stating the game rules clearly, a card war was launched. In the card war, Roland found that the witch’s acceptance was higher than most ordinary people. Soraya had quickly mastered card handling. Although Roland still managed to win for the following rounds, he had to use the special cards. He had to shamefully refuse now as she requested to draw the cards for him.

“Alright.” Soraya carried the cards in her arms and ran out the door. This was when the cheerful music came through the window. She stopped and ran back into the room and stuck her head out of the window to take a look. “Is that Echo?”

“Uh-huh. She seems to be quite proficient.” Roland leaned back against the chair to enjoy the familiar music.

The First Army of Border Town would soon enter the comprehensive exercising stage. It was quite different from shooting on the city wall. The comprehensive exercise would be carried out in the wild and required the team to march forward in an orderly fashion. This was also the basic segment of a shooting execution lineup. In order to unify the steps of the soldiers, they needed to rely on drums or slogans to command everyone’s marching speed. With the witch’s ability of mixed sound stimulation, he simply imitated the British style of infantry march music.

Compared to simple drumming, the infantry march music could not only control the platoon’s marching speed but also help to effectively enhance and elevate the troop morale. Of course, the famous marching song, “The British Grenadiers” should be used during the shooting execution lineup. Unfortunately, Roland could only remember the name but not the entire tune.

This was no trouble for him as there was another song, based on “The British Grenadiers” that had been widely used across the country during the war of resistance. And, the melody was known by almost everyone; it was the widely-known “Guerillas’ Song”.

Soraya turned around as she heard Prince Roland humming along softly. It was in a language that she’d never heard before, clear-cut and perfectly consistent with the beat.

“We’re all sharpshooters,”

“One bullet for one enemy.”

“We’re all soldiers with wings,”

“Unafraid of tall mountains and deep waters.”

“In the dense forests,”

“Our comrades set their camps.”

“On the tall mountains,”

“There are our countless brothers .”

“… ”

Chapter 106: A Different Reason

croll knocked on the door and someone quickly answered, “Come in.”

Entering the room she saw Anna sitting at a table by the window, where she was reading a thick book. The sun streamed through the window, lengthening her silhouette. Her soft cheeks and delicate neck looked fair under the sun’s reflection, and her ash-brown hair, that covered her shoulders, almost appeared gold.

After getting along with her for a week, Scroll had basically understood Anna’s temperament, such as straight-forward, honest, steady and quiet, especially studious… In short, it was difficult to find a civilian who had a pure and peaceful soul like Anna.

“Are you going to play the card game?” Scroll moved a stool and sat down beside Anna. After practice, the sisters would rush back to the castle and squeeze into Soraya’s room to play Gwent. They had fun and enjoyed fighting for cards from each other’s collections. Even Nana Pine, who had been playing with Anna daily, had been coming by less after learning how to play the game. It was uncommon since the little girl with the magic healing power was almost always to be found in Anna’s room.

“I want to keep reading,” Anna turned the page and said, “I don’t have an ability like yours, so I should spend more time on this.”

She had read all kinds of books, everything from historical biographies to long poetry, including the folks’ tales Scroll had heard being told in the streets; she was interested in all things, as long as it was in a book.

Scroll lovingly patted her head and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all that I remember in the books.”

[This is the child who changed the fate of the Witch Cooperation Association’s survivors,] Scroll thought. Nightingale would have never come to Border Town, nor met with Prince Roland from the Kingdom of Graycastle, and everything else that happened after would not have happened either. In other words, she was the savior of all witches.

That was partially why she was so fond of Anna. When Scroll had gained the insight from the Book of Magic, Anna had quickly accepted her and showed her great admiration, so much so that Scroll considered it a little ridiculous. There had been no one admiring her ability in the Witch Cooperation Association. Anna had the largest capacity for magic that Scroll had ever seen, with the exception of Nightingale, and her ability to control the green flames came with a very high attack power.

“Your hair is a little long,” Scroll lifted Anna’s bangs out of her eyes and said, “Does no one help you cut your hair?”

She shook her head and said, “I’d normally thread it myself.”

Scroll’s interest was immediately peaked and she said, “Threaded hair doesn’t look as good, let me trim it for you.”

“Do you even know how to do this?”

“I gave most of the sisters’ their haircuts when I was in the Witch Cooperation Association,” Scroll smiled and then said, “Hold on a moment and I’ll get my tools.”

She quickly came back with a sack clutched in her hand. After spreading out the folded layers of white cloth, a pair of bronze scissors were revealed. They were well worn, both sides of the grips were covered with scratches and the blades had been polished from frequent use. Scroll had relied on this pair of scissors for a living before joining the Witch Cooperation Association—she had been a hairdresser in the pub of Seawindshire. The extra bronze royals she had earned, after buying bread, was given to a captain with a broken leg in exchange for him teaching her how to read and write, this went on until he passed away from old age.

Scroll proficiently shook out and spread the white cloth over Anna, carefully tying it around her neck, and adeptly began trimming the long pieces of hair.

“I… have a question to ask you.”

“What’s that?” Scroll’s fingers were dancing with the scissors in her hand, the blades constantly opening and closing, making a crisp cutting noise. Anna’s ash-brown hair adeptly slipped through her fingers, falling to the floor, cluster by cluster.

“About the book you gave me yesterday, many of the stories end in the same way. Is it fated for a prince to marry a princess?”

Her hand paused a moment. The storybook was not a typical book, it was a collection of folks’ tales that she had heard living in Seawindshire over the years. However, Scroll had filtered out the stories without a happy ending, where the prince and princess didn’t end up together and compiled them into the book Anna was reading.

She had known that Anna would ask about this after reading the stories, however, she did not want to answer honestly.

“Most of them do, of course, there are some situations where a prince marries a grand duke’s daughter. For example, King Wimbledon III of the Kingdom of Graycastle married the daughter of Duke Silverlight.”

After replying, Scroll silently sighed, feeling it in her heart. Wendy had mentioned Nightingale’s thoughts to her, but when compared to the mature and calm shadow killer, she felt more concern about Anna, to whom His Highness felt affection. Everyone could see her importance to him. Roland could not keep his eyes off Anna whenever she was around. She was busier than the other sisters and he did not change her sleeping arrangements. After bunking Nightingale and Wendy together, Roland had explained that Nana could share a bed with Anna when she stayed the night, never realizing that his decision needed no explanation since he was the lord of the manor.

Anna’s reactions to His Highness were similar. She wouldn’t really talk when she was with the other witches and preferred to be a quiet listener. However, she would become active and more animated when Roland was around. Scroll thought, that if there was ever something or someone that could tear Anna’s eyes from a book, it would have to be Prince Roland.

Unfortunately, Roland was the fourth Prince of the Kingdom of Graycastle and the future king. He would be supported by the witches and Anna was one of those witches.

This was not something she could tell Prince Roland, so she had to find a way to indirectly mention it to Anna. She didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings, but she also didn’t want to see it end in tragedy.

“Why?” Anna shook her head, knocking the broken pieces of hair off her neck. “What if the prince doesn’t like the princess or the lady from the nobles’ family?”

“Um…” Scroll didn’t think that she would ask that. “He would still have to marry one. Since the prince is likely destined to be king, his marriage isn’t just up to him.” She tried to remember the relevant knowledge recorded in the book. “As a way to stabilize and unify the nobles from the bordering kingdoms, and to appease the shifting neighboring countries, or to even make strategic deals, a king had to marry for the benefit of his people. However, most importantly the king must have heirs.”

Anna did not continue to pursue her question and Scroll felt relieved. This delicate of a matter would take time and careful persuasion and she thought that someday Anna would understand. After she had finished trimming Anna’s bangs, she brushed them with her fingers and smiled, “Not bad, you look more energetic.”

Anna bowed and said, “Thank you.”

“So, for today’s book…” Scroll contemplated a moment and then decided to summon a book about the revolution of the Kingdom of Wolfheart’s history. She thought this book would support the information she imparted today. “Let’s pick a family biography.”

She was about to leave when Anna suddenly spoke with the Book of Illusion in her arms, “I don’t think Roland is the prince in these stories.” She sounded certain and not as if she were trying to persuade herself. “He would do what he wanted. regardless of his imparted duty.”

“…” Scroll was shocked. “What makes you say that?”

“If he was a prince like in the stories, he wouldn’t have rescued me.”

Chapter 107: Will You Marry a Witch?

oland went back to his office so he could continue writing down the basic mathematical knowledge he had in his mind after dinner.

He did not have an extraordinarily retentive memory, not to mention his memory would decline over time. Due to his profession, mathematics and physics were the most frequently used subjects, while his information about history, geography, biology, chemistry and so on had degenerated to an entry-level. Thus, regardless of its usefulness, it was better for him to take notes about everything in order to retain more knowledge.

After he finished each page he would have Scroll commit it to memory. All she had to do was look over the page and it was permanently recorded. Unfortunately, Scroll’s ability only extended to the memory of looking at the information and she could not teach herself junior-high-school mathematics. So, Roland explained it to her when he was free.

Of course, for someone like him, teaching was a meaningful task. When Scroll was surprised or enlightened, after a long contemplation, he felt especially accomplished. However, Roland knew that this had to do with his specific student. Although Scroll was closer to 40 in age, her magic power had greatly slowed the aging process. The skin on her cheeks was tight and rosy, and her long black hair was tied back simply behind her head, making her look very mature and capable. The fine crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes did not destroy her overall beauty but rather brought out her steady temperament. She would definitely be the elegant and versatile teacher found in the movies. The sense of role reversal was pleasant now that he had surprised the “teacher” with his lesson.

Roland was quietly writing as he contemplated, [What exactly is the magic power found in this world?]

It was everywhere, and it did not matter if its source was in the deep mine of the northern slope or within the Impassable Mountain Range, off towards the Wild Places in the west, or located at the Seawindshire in the east; the witches could always use it to release their various and incredible powers. The power was obviously stronger than electricity and its energy was less processed and closer to its “origins”.

Like with Cara from the Witch Cooperation Association, Wendy had mentioned that she could summon four Snakes of different Magical types and their names were named Death, Suffering, Fossilization, and Nothingness, each with its own venom effect. Or, like Nightingale, and her unfolding Mist that could almost distort the space it occupied. The different forms of magic ability constantly changed, Roland could not think of a better word to use other than the “origins”.

If he were to give the word “origins” a definition, it probably would be the rules and order that control everything universal. In the latter part of his life, Einstein wanted to integrate the four basic forces of the universe into his theoretical framework and called it the “grand unification theory”. In a way he was searching for its source, so, Roland couldn’t help but wonder if there was a universal rule that could span any universe?

Roland couldn’t help but brainstorm, was it possible a force like that existed in the world he used to live in before he traveled across the universe? Had there just not been any witches to act as a catalyst, releasing the magic, and it was only neglected by others?

Roland was just thinking, besides there was no way for him to properly analyze the power with the currently available technologies.

So, in order to promote the industrial revolution, he had to concentrate on propelling the progress of civilization.

Perhaps, someday, mankind would be able to use the power without the assistance of the witches — it was exciting to simply think about the versatile energy, which could transform into various effects.

“Your Highness?” Scroll asked noticing Roland’s intoxicated look.

“Ahem,” Roland pulled himself from the delusion. He coughed twice and said, while looking at the dwindling candle, “That’s all for today.”

“Yes,” she bowed and prepared to leave but then she paused.

Roland noticed that he had not heard the sound of the door closing and looked up curiously and saw that Scroll was still standing by the door. “What’s up?”

“Your Highness…” Scroll hesitated for a moment before saying, “I would like to ask you a question.”

“Ask away.” Roland nodded while laying his quill down before lifting his glass of water and taking a large gulp. The witches didn’t have many shortcomings, except one – they were all too skittish. They were like rabbits that would poke their heads out of their cave, only to immediately retreat at the slightest disturbance, never to be seen again. He was predicting that her question would be something like, “Why were you willing to take us in?” or “Don’t you fear the church?” Nightingale and Wendy had asked him many that times. However, since Scroll had taken the time to ask he would answer her seriously, deepening their friendship and camaraderie.

“Is it… possible for you to marry a witch?”

“Pfft,” Roland almost spat out his water, “Uh, why are you asking?”

“I…” Scroll opened her mouth but could not answer.

Marry a witch? The first person who came to Roland’s mind was Anna, ever since the day he had met her in the prison, her blue eyes had left a deep impression on his heart. Witches started as ordinary, human girls but then their abilities would awaken and they would develop outstanding powers. Moreover, their appearances and bodies were superior to those of a normal human. They would be the focus of attention in the modern society. So, what did he have to hesitate about? In this case —

He looked at Scroll and asked with a smile, “Why not?”

Wendy rubbed her sore shoulders before returning to her room.

Her large breasts were troublesome, especially when she was casting her wind on the top of the Littletown’s wooden shed since she had to raise her arms up and slightly towards her back to keep balance.

Since the first sail trial, Littletown had made a lot of improvements. For example, there was now a simple shed built on the spot she would be standing to shelter her from the sun and the rain. The hull was surrounded by bark that was used to reduce the impact when it went ashore. Both sides of the ship were fitted with two cement short piles for the convenience of fixing the vessels.

And, her ability to control the wind had also made a great progress after nearly a month of training. The ships were moving more steadily now, and the speed could be fast or slow under the influence of the wind. She even learned to adjust the magic consumption by using the existing wind force so that she could last a longer time.

Nightingale had finished her bath before Wendy, and she was already sitting on her bed, in her pajamas, waiting for her.

However, Wendy found it strange that Nightingale was smiling uncontrollably.

“Did something good happen?” Wendy couldn’t help asking. Nightingale shook her head but didn’t say anything, she only smiled a little wider.

Wendy’s mouth twitched, [Her emotions has been low since the last time we talked. Only recently, with the growing popularity of Gwent, has her spirits been lifted. Then, why is she smiling so brightly? Where has the expressionless, quiet Shadow killer, I met in Silver City gone?]

[Whatever.] Wendy took off her clothes and stepped into the bucket of hot water. [She probably won a great card in the game.]