Release that Witch: 1-50
Author: Er Mu
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

1 Becoming a Prince

Cheng Yan felt as if someone was calling him.

"Your Highness, wake up…"

He turned his head away, but the sounds he had heard did not disappear, instead they became even louder. Then, he felt someone gently tug on his sleeve.

"Your Highness, my Royal Prince!"

Cheng Yan opened his eyes immediately. He did not see any of the things he had grown familiar with—the screen was gone, the desk was gone, and so too, was the wall which he had plastered with Post-its. They were replaced by a strange scene—rows of small brick houses, a round public square that was crowded with people, and a door-shaped gallows that was erected in the middle of the public square. He was seated on an elevated platform from across the square. The chair he sat on was not his usual soft swivel chair, but instead, a cold and hard iron chair. Sitting alongside him was a group of people whose gazes were fixated upon him. Among them were a few young women who were dressed as medieval ladies like what he had seen in Western movies, and they were busy giggling among themselves.

"Where on Earth is this? Wasn’t I working urgently on my blueprints?" Cheng Yan’s mind was vacant, perhaps caused by three consecutive days of working overtime that had pushed him to the limit mentally and physically. All he could remember was when he finally broke down, his heartbeat began to palpitate unsteadily, and he wanted nothing but to lie on the office table for a brief rest…

"Your Highness, please announce your verdict soon."

The speaker was the person that had quietly tugged on his sleeve. His face was old, seemingly in his fifties or sixties, and he wore a white robe. At first glance, had a little resemblance to Gandalf, from The Lord of the Rings.

"Am I dreaming?" Cheng Yan thought as he licked his dry lips. "Verdict, what verdict?"

He soon knew. The people in the public square were all looking in the direction of the gallows, while waving their fists and yelling as loud as they could. Some even threw stones at the gallows.

Cheng Yan had only ever seen such an ancient instrument of death in movies. The gallows of two pillars extending upwards about four meters from a raised base. The top ends of the two pillars were connected by a crossbeam, which was embedded with rusty metal rings for a thick yellow hemp rope to travel through. One end of the rope was tied to the frame of the gallows, and the other end was tied around the felon’s neck.

In this strange dream, he discovered that his eyesight was extraordinarily good. He would usually require glasses to read the words on a computer screen, but now, he could clearly see every detail of the gallows, which was fifty meters away, without his glasses.

The felon was hooded and her hands were tied behind her back. Her shabby gray garment was akin to a piece of rag. Her body was so emaciated that her ankles—the only part of her body which was exposed—seemed like they could be broken by pinching them. It was her faintly bulging chest which gave away that she was a female. She shivered terribly in the cold wind, yet she was observably trying hard to maintain her straight posture.

"Alright then," Cheng Yan thought to himself, "exactly what crime did this woman commit that so many people are waiting with indignation for her to be executed?"

As he pondered, memories suddenly came flooding back to him, and the answer to his question abruptly appeared in front of him. Cheng Yan’s memories appeared, almost as if they’d suddenly been turned on and he realized the cause of the situation, and the answer to his question, at almost the same time.

She was a ’witch’.

Witches had degenerated after falling to the temptation of the Devil and are now the incarnation of impurity.

"Your Highness?" ‘Gandalf’ urged cautiously.

Cheng Yan glanced at the old man. Ohhh, actually, he’s called Barov and not Gandalf. He’s the Assistant Minister of Finance, and was sent here to assist me with government affairs.

As for myself, I’m the Fourth Prince of the Kingdom of Graycastle, named Roland, and I’m in charge of this place called Border Town. It was residents who caught and arrested the witch, and immediately brought her to the police station—no, it was the court of justice. The warrant to execute the witch would typically have been issued by the local lord or bishop, which, in this case, would mean me.

His memory answered every question he had indiscriminately. It was as though this bout of memories was derived from his personal experiences, rather than knowledge he had gained from his extensive reading. This confused him. A dream can never be as detailed as this, therefore is this not a dream? Could it be that I have travelled back in time to the dark ages of medieval Europe and became Roland? Have I transformed from an ignoble draftsman to a dignified prince?

Albeit this piece of territory seems barren and backward, and I’ve never seen the name ‘Kingdom of Graycastle’ in any history book.

Well, what should I do next?

I shall leave aside the question of how something scientifically impossible like time travel happened. Right now, I need to end this circus. Before civilization, it was common to assign the blame for disasters and misfortune to these pitiful witches, but Cheng Yan could not accept that they had to be executed as well to satisfy the dark desires of the audience.

He snatched the formal written orders from Barov’s hands, tossed them on the ground, stretched his arms and said languidly, "I’m tired. The judgement shall be postponed to another day. Court’s dismissed!"

Cheng Yan did not act recklessly or without thought. Instead, this was in accordance with his memory’s detailed recollection of the way that the prince behaved, and all he did was reenacting their willful manner. The Fourth Prince, Roland, was indeed this screwed up and abominable, and did whatever he wanted. Certainly, it was impossible for a twenty-something unruly prince to be well-cultivated.

The members of the noble who sat with him seemed unsurprised, but a tall man wearing a suit of armor stood up and argued. "Your Highness, this isn’t a joke! All witches should be put to death immediately upon being identified, or else, what can we do if other witches attempt to save her? The Church will get involved if they know of this."

"Carter Lannis. This handsome man is my Chief Knight." Cheng Yan frowned and replied, "Why? Are you scared?" His voice, which was full of blatant mockery, sounded natural. "How could a man, whose arms were thicker than a normal person’s body, be worried about witches breaking into our prison? Does he really think that witches are the mouthpiece of the Devil?" "Won’t it be better to catch a few more witches?"

As Carter remained silent, Cheng Yan signaled to his personal guards and left. Carter pondered for a moment before he decided to catchup with the guards and walked beside Prince Roland. The other nobles stood up and paid their respects to the prince, but Cheng Yan could see the disdain and contempt in their eyes.

Back in the keep, which was considered to be the castle in the south of Border Town, he ordered his guards to deny entry to the anxious Assistant Minister so that he himself could finally catch a brief respite.

As a person who had usually spent 90 percent of his time sitting in front of a computer, he had outdone himself by speaking in front of such an audience. Using his newly-gained memories, Cheng Yan located his bedroom, and then sat on the bed for a long rest which allowed his heartbeat to regain normalcy. At the moment, the most important matter was to clarify his situation. "Why is the prince not residing comfortably in King’s City, but instead sent to this desolate land?"

The answer popped up spontaneously and left him a bit flabbergasted.

Roland Wimbledon was sent here to contend for the throne.

It all started when the King of Graycastle, Wimbledon III, quizzically proclaimed, "The heirship of this kingdom will not be based on age, but instead, the capability to govern." He then dispatched his grown-up sons and daughters to govern different territories, and after five years, he would decide his successor based on their level of governance.

Although the ideas of meritocracy and gender equality sounded progressive and futuristic, it was difficult to implement in reality. Who could guarantee that each of the five children faced the same initial conditions? After all, this was not a real-time strategy game. According to his new knowledge, the Second Prince was given a much better territory than Border Town. In fact, among the five of them, none had a place as bad as Border Town, and thus he had a huge disadvantage.

Furthermore, he wondered how the level of governance would be assessed. By population? Military power? Economic standing? Wimbledon III did not mentioned his criteria, nor did he put the slightest restriction on their methods of competition. In case someone secretly assassinated the other candidates, what would he do? Would the queen stand by and watch as her children kill one another? "Wait…" He carefully recalled another memory. "That’s right, another piece of bad news is that the Queen died five years ago."

Cheng Yan sighed. This was obviously a barbaric and dark time during the feudal era. The way that people wanted to kill witches recklessly was enough to give him a few hints. Yet, even if he did not attain heirship, he would forever be a blood prince of Graycastle, and would be the Lord of a Realm for as long as he lived.

Furthermore… so what if I become the king? There isn’t Internet or other comforts of modern civilization. Like the locals, the only fun thing I’ve to do is burning witches. And living in a city where shit is excreted and dumped anywhere and everywhere, won’t I eventually die of the Black Death?

Cheng Yan suppressed his chaotic thoughts and walked up to his bedroom mirror. The man looking back at him in the mirror had light gray hair, which was the royal family’s most distinctive feature. Although his facial features were regular, his face lacked a proper shape and seemed devoid of royal disposition. His pale face gave away his lack of physical exercise. He recalled from his new memories that he did not indulge much in wine or women. He did have several sexual relationships while in King’s City, and all of them were consensual. He had never forced anyone into an affair with him.

He also discovered a probable reason for his time travel. Because of his company’s urgency to make progress on a project, his boss had arranged consecutive nights of overtime work for him that caused him to die of exhaustion. The victims of such a case were usually coders, mechanical engineers, and programmers.

"Forget it, no matter what, at least I got the equivalent of an extra life, and therefore I really shouldn’t complain too much." He began to wise up to the fact that he would probably adjust to this life in the days to come, but that for now, the most important mission was to act well as the Prince Roland and not let anyone find out. Or else, they may believe that the Devil had possessed the real Prince Roland, and immediately burnt him at the stake. "So, most importantly, live well. " Cheng Yan took a deep breath, and whispered towards the mirror, "From now on, I’m Roland."

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2 The Witch Named Anna Part I

For a period of time Roland locked himself in his room as he thoroughly reviewed the memories of this new world, and had dinner sent directly to him by his servants.

Because of his strong desire to live on, Roland fully suppressed his fear and discomfort of the unfamiliar environment he found himself in. He was fully aware that if he wanted to blend in and avoid being suspected by the people around him, he needed to acquire more information as soon as possible.

It had to be said that, apart from information about himself fooling around with other noble children, his new memory consisted of nothing much else. He was unable to recall any information of value, such as knowledge of the aristocracy, the political situation in his own country, or the diplomatic ties with neighboring countries... Although he had some general knowledge such as city names, and the years of significant events, they were completely different from the history of Europe that he knew previously.

It therefore appeared evident to him that he had absolutely no chance of obtaining the throne. Perhaps the King of Graycastle himself was aware of this, and because of that, he sent Roland to this hellish place. Even if he made a mess of things, it would not cause too much damage.

The next memories that Roland recalled were regarding his brothers and sisters, and what he found left him unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Roland’s eldest brother, the First Prince, was a great fighter. His second brother was sinister and scheming, his third sister was aggressive and savage, and his fifth sister was extremely smart. What should he say? After living with them for more than a decade, his impression of them could be summed up in a few words. He knew nothing about the extent of their power, their subordinate officers, or their skills and talents.

Just three months into his leadership of Border Town, the noble had already stopped concealing their disdain and contempt towards him. It was evident that the Fourth Prince wasn’t cut out to be a leader. Fortunately, when he left King’s City, he was accompanied by two assistants—one for civil issues, and one for military issues—who were provided by the king, or else it would have been a much bigger mess.

When Roland woke up the next morning, he was repeatedly reminded by his maid, Tyre, that Assistant Minister Barov wanted to see him. Realizing that he could put it off no longer, he groped the maid’s behind twice—as he recalled it was customary of the original Roland to do so, and told her to inform Barov to wait in the sitting room.

He saw Tyre’s face flush a bright red as she walked out the door. Suddenly, Roland thought, "Since Border Town is primarily involved in farming, is there a system of any sort in place?" He yawned and mentally repeated the word ‘system’ many times in his head, but could not think of anything.

Indeed, novels were all fiction.

Barov was waiting restlessly in the drawing room. The moment Roland appeared, he immediately hurried towards him and asked, "Your Highness, why didn’t you order the execution yesterday?"

"One day earlier or one day later, what’s the difference?" Roland said as he clapped his hands to order the servants to bring breakfast in. "Have a seat and let’s talk."

It was in line with his memory that the Chief Knight preferred to ask questions in front of other people, while the Assistant Minister usually chose to talk in private. In any case, he could trust both of them to be loyal to him, even though they probably did so as part of their duty to the king.

"Just one day may be enough for other witches to appear, Your Highness! This isn’t like any other trivial matter, you cannot act as recklessly as before!!" Barov cautioned.

"Why are you also saying this?" Roland asked while frowning. "I thought you could distinguish between rumors and facts."

Barov looked bewildered. "What rumors?"

"That witches are evil and are the Devil’s emissaries," Roland replied glibly. "Isn’t this part of the Church’s propaganda? If we don’t want them to interfere in our affairs, we should do the opposite of what they say. We shall deliberately not hunt down witches, and instead publicize to our citizens that these are all shameless rumors spread by the Church."

Barov was shocked. "But… witches are really…"

"Evil?" Roland asked in reply. "How so?"

The Assistant Minister remained silent for a moment, as if he was guessing whether the prince was purposely making fun of him, "Your Highness, this problem can be discussed later. I understand that you don’t like the Church, but this way of causing conflict is counterproductive."

Roland curled his lips. It seemed that reversing this myth about witches could not be done overnight, and he decided not to dispute it further for now.

Breakfast finally arrived on the table, consisting of fried bread, fried eggs and a carafe of milk. He first poured a full cup of milk and offered it to Barov.

"You haven’t had breakfast right? Let’s eat as we talk." According to the maid, Barov had arrived outside the keep at dawn, and therefore should not have had time to eat. While he’d decided to imitate the former prince’s way of life, and he’d also decided to begin to change the way people perceived him a bit at a time. Although he had determined to imitate Prince Roland’s way of doing things at first, he also wanted to make changes gradually. The Assistant Minister is a good first target for my plan. Roland thought to himself. "Making one’s subordinates feel valued invariably makes them more motivated to work for oneself. Taking the initiative is always the most efficient way of doing things, no?"

Barov accepted the cup of milk from Roland but didn’t drink. He anxiously said, "Your Highness, we have a problem. Three days ago, guards reported that a camp suspected to be inhabited by witches has been discovered in the western forest. They left in a hurry and didn’t clean up their traces. A guard found this in the camp."

He took out a coin from his pocket and put it in front of Roland. This was not a common currency seen in the kingdom, at least according to Roland’s memories, and he had never seen such a coin. In fact, it did not appear to be made of metal. He pinched the coin in his hands and was surprised to feel that the coin was becoming warmer. The heat definitely did not come from the Assistant Minister's body, as it was above 40℃ at least, and it made him think of heating pads.

"What is this?" Roland asked.

"I thought it was just some foul trinket that a witch made, but it’s actually more serious than that." Barov had to pause to wipe his forehead. "The printed pattern is known as the Insignia of the Sacred Mountain and Magic Eye, which is the emblem of the Witch Cooperation Association."

Roland rubbed the coin’s uneven surface, and guessed that it was probably made of fired ceramic. Indeed, he saw that in the center of the coin was carved a mountain-shaped pattern—It was formed by three juxtaposing triangles, and the image of an eye was placed in the space between the triangles. The pattern’s contour lines were very crude, and therefore he judged that it was polished by hand.

Roland attempted to recall the two terms "Insignia of the Sacred Mountain and Magic Eye" and "Witch Cooperation Association", but did not discover any relevant information. It seemed that Prince Roland knew nothing about occultism.

Neither did Barov expect Roland to have any knowledge about this. He continued, "Your Highness, you haven’t seen a real witch before, so it’s understandable that you’re unimpressed. Like us, they can be hurt. They bleed, and aren’t any harder to kill than the rest of us, but that’s only for witches who don’t have resistance. The lifespan of witches who receive the Devil’s power would shorten greatly, but they would obtain a terrible amount of power which ordinary people are unable to rival. Once the witches are fully developed, our armies will suffer greatly. Their appetite for disaster is extremely difficult to restrain or suppress, and they’ve already degenerated into the devil’s minions. The Church therefore formed a Punishment Army, which would arrest and execute any woman who was discovered to have the slightest chance of transforming into a witch. The King has approved of this decree, and in fact, these measures have been highly effective and the incidents of witches wreaking havoc have greatly declined in comparison to a hundred years ago. Rumors about the Holy Mountain, or rather, the Gates of Hell, were derived from an ancient book of that era."

Roland, while gnawing on his bread, sneered in his heart continuously. Although the histories of this world and the world he was from were very different, their historical trajectories were surprisingly similar. The Church was still the Church; he understood that religion was the real Devil’s minion and the real source of evil. Executing a person because a small sign was discovered, and using God’s name to set laws, and then to arrest, trial and sentence a person, were in itself a form of degeneration. The Prince Roland’s memories of the Church’s misuse of authority corroborated with his views.

Unaware of Roland’s thoughts Barov continued, "It’s recorded in ancient books that witches can only find real peace in the Holy Mountain. There, they wouldn’t be reverse bitten by their magic powers, and wouldn’t be troubled by burgeoning desires. There’s no doubt that the so-called Holy Mountain is the birthplace of evil and an entrance from the human world to Hell. I think that only Hell won’t punish this bunch of degenerates."

"How about the Witch Cooperation Association? What’s their relationship with the Holy Mountain?" Roland enquired.

Barov explained with a grimace, "In the past, witches acted solitarily, whether it was to flee or to live in seclusion. But in recent years, the Witch Cooperation Association appeared and made a difference. They wanted to gather all witches and find the Holy Mountain together. For this purpose, the Witch Cooperation Association would even lure other people to become witches,, In the Port of Clearwater, there have been many cases of female babies disappearing in the past year, and there are rumors that they were the doings of witches."

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3 The Witch Named Anna Part II

After Roland ate the last piece of fried egg from his breakfast, he took a napkin and wiped his mouth before saying, "So, are you saying that you’re worried that the Witch Cooperation Association will try to rescue the witch when they hear the news that she did not die?"

"It’s as Your Highness says." Barov stamped his feet and exclaimed. "I hear that they’re in a hurry and probably on their way to somewhere. Had that prisoner died, and then it can’t be helped, but she’s still alive! If those witches are crazy enough to steal babies, I’m afraid that they won’t forsake a degenerated companion."

Roland was somewhat confused, and he could not help but feel that there was something amiss about the situation. Why is it that my Assistant Minister and Chief Knight speak of witches as if they’re a forthcoming and formidable enemy?

The woman who’s to be executed is a witch, right? She’s so thin that even the wind seems like it can blow her off her feet. If she truly possessed frightening power, why would she be standing there and awaiting her death? No, she wouldn’t even be caught. According to the Church’s explanation, she’s a Devil incarnate, and therefore the Punishment Army and other military troops would suffer losses if they fought her. Yet, she was caught by the normal citizens of Border Town, and was tortured by every means possible up until she was led to the gallow, but there was still no sign of her frightening power.

"How did she get caught?" Roland queried.

"I heard that when the North Slope Mine Area collapsed, she revealed her identity in order to escape, and was then captured by angry villagers," Barov answered.

"I’ve a certain impression of this matter, and it happened right on the day before I travelled through time," Roland thought.

"How did she reveal herself?" The prince asked aloud.

"I, well… I’m not sure." the Assistant Minister shook his head and said, "The situation was very chaotic, and it could be that someone saw her using witchcraft."

Roland frowned as he asked, "Aren’t you able to investigate the situation properly?"

"Your Highness, our priority is to restore the production of the mining area." the Assistant Minister retorted. "Half of our revenue is derived from the iron mine, and what’s more, the guards have confirmed that someone at the scene was killed by witchcraft."

"What kind of witchcraft?" Roland asked, becoming more interested than before.

"The head and a large part of the body were spread out on the ground, as if they were melted. They reminded people of burnt-out black candles." Barov's face was filled with disgust. "Your Highness, you wouldn’t want to see such a scene."

Roland played with his silver fork as he pondered over the issue. Historically speaking, most of the victims who were hunted by the Witch Cooperation Association were innocent people, and thus, the witches bore the brunt of the Church’s and the ignorant people’s anger. In truth, a small percentage of witches had sought their own deaths. This group of witches dressed bizarrely, and spent their days mixing all kinds of materials in large pots, claiming that they could predict the future and knew the conclusion of life and death. They based their legitimacy around a few tricks, for example, making use of a natural flame reaction to ‘prove’ that they had obtained the power of God.

To a modern person, these were nothing but some simple chemistry tricks, but in medieval times, it was easy to mistake them as godly phenomenon.

As for melting people, the first thing that Roland thought of was a chromic acid solution. However, the preparation for this was tedious and the process itself required the entire human body to be immersed in the chromic acid. Furthermore, the melting effect was definitely not as strong as the melting of candle wax. And chromic acid was the strongest of the known acids.

Then how did she do it?

If she relied on alchemy, that meant she could have been a chemist, which was very rare in the whole territory, but if not…

Roland thought until here, and then said in a determined tone, "Take me to see her."

The Assistant Minister stood up in a flurry and accidentally knocked over the cup of milk that he had not drank. "Your Highness, you want to see the witch?"

"Yes, this is a command." Roland looked back and smiled at the Assistant Minister. In a way, he was thankful for Prince Roland’s unreasonable style.

As Roland walked over to the door, he suddenly paused and asked, "Right, I always wanted to ask why we use the gallows."

"What?"

Roland reiterated his question, "Why the gallows? Shouldn’t witches be burned at the stake?"

Barov seemed puzzled. "Is that so? But she’s not afraid of fire."

There was only one dungeon in Border Town because such a barren land could not afford to upkeep too many prisoners. Most criminals would face trial within a few days and either be released or executed.

In addition to Barov, the prince was followed into the dungeon by the Chief Knight, the prison warden, the castellan and two guards.

The dungeon had a total of four floors and its walls were made of hard granite blocks. It was Roland’s first time in this kind of place. He noted that the deeper down he went, the narrower the hallway became, and the lesser the number of cells. He imagined that the builders probably dug a pit in the shape of an inverted cone first, and then piled it up with layers and layers of stone..

This type of crude engineering project would naturally not provide for a good drainage system. The ground was always very wet and muddy flowed down the stairs, all the way to the last floor.

The witch was imprisoned in the bottommost floor of the dungeon. Every floor down they went, the stench in the air became thicker.

"Your Highness, you’re risking too much by doing this. Even though she’s sealed with God’s Locket of Retribution, it isn’t completely safe."

It was Carter Lannis, the Chief Knight, who spoke. As soon as he learnt that the prince was planning on visiting the witch, he immediately rushed over and pleaded with the prince to turn back... He did not accept the prince’s command and refused to leave—not when the prince seemed to blatantly disregard his own safety. "How could such a tall and handsome man be such a bugbear?" Roland thought. He wished that someone would just sew Carter’s mouth up. "If you don’t even dare to look evil in the eye, how will you have the courage to defeat it? I thought you knew that," he said.

"Before fighting evil, one must know one’s strength. Reckless behavior is not courageous." Carter rebutted.

"You mean to say that you’ll uphold justice against an inferior enemy, but turn a blind eye to a superior enemy?" Roland challenged.

"No, Your Highness, I mean …" Carter stammered.

"Before this, you were afraid of a witch raid, and now you’re even afraid to see a little girl, my Chief Knight is indeed one of a kind."

Although the Chief Knight was talkative, he was not proficient in debate, and thus was helpless against a smooth talker like Roland. Soon the party reached the bottom floor of the dungeon.

This floor was many times smaller than the ones above, with a total of only two cells. The castellan lit the torches on the walls, and as the darkness faded, Roland saw the witch curled up in one corner of her cell.

It was already late autumn and the temperature in the dungeon was low enough for people to see white fog when they exhaled. Roland wore a fur coat with silk lining inside, and thus he did not feel cold, but the girl only wore a thin garment that did not fully cover her body, and hence her exposed arms and legs were frozen white.

The suddenly lit up torches made her turn away and close her eyes. But soon, she was able to open her eyes and looked straight at the party.

It was a pair of pale blue eyes that resembled a calm lake before the onset of heavy rains. There was no fear on the witch’s face and neither was there any sign of anger or hatred. For a moment, Roland had an illusion that he was not looking at a weak little girl, but instead a shadow that devoured flames. He felt as though the torches became a little dimmer.

The girl tried to stand up against the wall, but her sluggish motion made her seem as if she could fall down at any time. Eventually, she was able to get on her feet and hobbled her way towards the light.

This was enough to make most of the party members gasp in horror and take two steps backwards. Only the Chief Knight held his ground and shielded the prince.

"What’s your name?" Roland patted the knight on the shoulder to indicate that he did not need to be so nervous.

"Anna," she replied.

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4 Flame

Chapter 4 Flame

“In the end, what happened when the mine collapsed, can you repeat it for me step by step?” Roland asked.

Anna nodded and began to describe it.

Roland was a bit surprised, he expected her to stay silent or to angrily curse at him, but instead she just responded with, “ask whatever you want,” and obediently told her tale.

It wasn’t a complicated story, but a sad one nonetheless. Anna’s father was a miner and when the mine collapsed, he was at work. Immediately after they got the news of the collapse, Anna and the other miners’ families went over to help rescue their loved ones. The North Mine was previously rumored to be an underground monster lair with many forks in the road, extending in all directions. Since the rescuers were under no unified command, the volunteers separated after arriving at the mine entry so that when Anna found her father, only her neighbours, Susan and Ansgar were by her side.

Anna had discovered that her father’s leg was crushed under a full ore cart and he couldn’t move, but at his side was another miner patting him down, searching for her father’s money. As the looter saw them arrive, he took a pick and rushed at Ansgar and knocked him to the ground, but just at the moment when he was about to strike her, Anna killed him first.

Anna’s neighbours vowed that they would never say anything about this matter, and with their help Anna rescued her father. But before dawn, the next day, Anna’s father went out on his crutches and reported to the patrolling guards that his daughter was a witch.

“Why?” Roland, when he had heard up until this point, could not help but ask.

Barov sighed and answered, “Probably so he could receive the gold reward. The discovery and reporting of a witch, can get you 25 gold royals. For a man with a crippled leg, these 25 gold royals are equivalent to what he could earn for half a lifetime of work.”

After a moment of silence, Roland asked, “Your opponent was a strong and grown-up man, how were you able to kill him?”

At this Anna laughed, and the flames of the torches shook, just like high waves on a previously calm lake’s surface.

“It was exactly like what you think, I used the power of the devil.” Anna said.

“Shut up! Vile sorceress!” Shouted the warden, but everyone could hear his voice trembling.

“Is that true? I want to see it.” the fourth prince was unmoved by their antics as he calmly said.

“Your Highness, this is no laughing matter!” The Knight Commander interjected as he furrowed his brows.

Roland stepped out from behind the protection of his knight, step by step moving closer towards the cell as he said, “Everyone who is too afraid of her can leave, I did not ask you to stay here.”

“Don’t panic, she has a ‘God’s Locket of Retribution’ around her neck!” shouted Barov loudly to comfort everyone, but likely also to reassure himself, “no matter how powerful the devil is, he cannot break God’s blessing.”

Standing in front of the prison bars, Roland and Anna were at arm’s length and he could clearly see her dusty and bruised cheek. Her soft facial features showed that she still was a minor, but her expression did not have any traces of childishness. More than that, even anger was hard to find. It was the kind of disharmonious thing Roland had only had seen on TV.

It was the face of a wandering orphan who had suffered from poverty, hunger, cold, etc… but it was not exactly the same, normally in front of the camera the lost children always stood with a bent and beaten down body, their head down, but Anna did not.

From the beginning until now, she had still tried to stand straight with her gaze slightly raised, calmly looking into the prince’s eyes. She did not fear death, Roland realized. Instead, she was waiting for death.

“Is this the first time you have seen a witch, my lord? Your curiosity might get you killed.” Anna said.

“If it was really the power of the devil, you would absolutely not be in this current situation,” Roland responded, “If that were true, it is not I should be fear death, but your father.”

The fires in the prison suddenly became dark, and this was definitely not an illusion, what seemed to be like suppressed flames were soon left with only tight flame clusters. Behind himself, Roland could hear the sound of rapid breathing and prayer, as well as the muffled sound of panicked people accidentally falling down.

Roland’s heartbeat accelerated and he felt himself at an unusual turning point. On one side was the world with common sense, which was in accordance with the laws and constants that he knew, not one thread loose, And on the other side was an incredible new world, which was full of mystery and the unknown. And right now he was standing in front of this world.

Hung on her neck is actually the ‘God’s Locket of Retribution’? What a simple and crude locket, Roland thought. A red iron chain with a sparkling and translucent pendant, if the witch did not have both her hands handcuffed behind her back, couldn’t she use a quick pull to destroy this kind of thing?

Roland glanced at the crowd behind him, who were still mouthing prayers in panic. He quickly reached into the cell, grabbed the pendant, and with a little tug the necklace’s chain snapped and then crashed down broken, the move startled even Anna.

“Come on.” Roland whispered.

Are you in the end a liar, some type of alchemist, or are you a real witch? If you now take out bottles and jars and start compounding acids, I will be disappointed, Roland thought.

Roland then heard a crackling sound, which was the noise of the thermal expansion of water vapor. Thanks to a dramatic rise in temperature, the water on the ground beneath them had changed to steam.

Roland saw a blazing flame rising directly from Anna’s foot, and then the ground where she stood was burning up. The torches behind them exploded simultaneously, as if they received pure oxygen, in a burst of brilliant light. For a short time, the whole cell was as if it was in daylight, and all this was accompanied by the onlookers’ terrified screams.

When the witch moved forward, the flames surrounding her moved with her. As she came to the edge of her cell, the dozens of iron bars that made up the wall became pillars of fire.

Roland was forced to retreat, the heated air was biting his skin, making him feel pain. In just a few breaths of time, he had escaped from a late autumn summer, no, this was a different kind of heat, this was solely generated by this high-temperature flame and not a full ambient summer heat. One side of his body was facing the flame’s heat, and on the opposite side Roland felt a chill. He could even feel cold sweat trickling down his back.

…She really does not fear fire. Roland thought.

Roland remembered the words of the Assistant Minister. Only now could he really understand the meaning of that sentence.

She is the flame herself, and how could someone fear oneself?

Soon, the iron bars turned from crimson to a light yellow, and they began to melt. This meant that they have been heated to more than fifteen hundred degrees celsius, and achieving this in a condition without any insulating measures, which was far beyond the imagination of Roland. Like others, he had stepped away from the cell, firmly attaching himself to the wall farthest away from the cell.

If he had not done this, the heat the molten iron produced was enough to kill him even without direct contact, but it was also enough to clothes to combust, such as Anna’s, her prisoner’s smock had burnt to ashes and her body was now surrounded by a raging fire.

Roland didn’t know how long it lasted, but in the end, the flame completely faded.

The torches were quietly burning on the section of the wall next to them, it seemed like nothing had ever happened. But Anna’s burned clothes, the hot air, and the prison bars which looked like as if it was burned by the devil’s minions, all this, told everyone that this wasn’t an illusion.

In addition to Roland, only the Knight Commander was still standing. The others had collapsed to the ground, the warden was so scared that his pants smelled of urine. Anna was now standing naked outside the cell, her arm shackles were gone. She did not block the view at her naked body, her hands were hanging naturally at her side and her eyes which were blue like the sea were restored to the tranquility from before.

“Now I have satisfied your curiosity, Sir,” she said, “Will you kill me now?”

“No,” Roland stepped forward and wrapped his coat around her and said with a tone as mild as possible, “Miss Anna, I want to hire you.”
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5 Reasons

Chapter 5 Reasons

“Second Law of Thermodynamics: Heat can never pass from a colder to a warmer body without some other changes, or it is impossible to convert heat from a single source into useful work without causing other effects, in an irreversible or spontaneous change from one equilibrium state to another the entropy always increases.”

Roland carefully copied this law onto paper, writing in the language of this world. At first glance, the text resembled a moving earthworm. He really did not understand how the locals could learn so many varied and complicated characters.

If you asked him which of the numerous physical laws would be the one to cause most people to feel depressed, Roland would choose the second law of thermodynamics. It tells everyone that this world’s heat will always pass from high to low, replacing the disorder into order, increasing the entropy. Eventually, everything will end in nothingness and the universe will become deathly silent.

And this world had broken away from the ever increasing entropy problem. It could make magic out of nothing, which was much more impressive than the theorized invention of a perpetual motion machine! The forces of evil? Roland scoffed and thought to himself that the people of this world did not understand the true nature of this power, and it was so enormous that it could even change the entire universe.

Of course, for a beginning, he could only start to change this small border town.

Roland hummed a tune, tore up the paper he had written and threw it into the fireplace where it was reduced to ashes, feeling the pleasure of breaking out of a cage.

The assistant minister looked askance at the fourth prince’s unexplainable actions, but fortunately for Roland the old 4th Prince had always acted in this manner. In the end, Barov decided that the prince’s strange whimsy would pass with no need for him to bother about it, and he could see that the prince was enjoying himself.

“The killing has been completed, the ‘witch’ was hanged at noon,” reported Barov to Roland.

“Good, did anyone see it?” Roland spoke while writing, “No matter, all of the condemned wear hoods.”

In order to prevent the Holy Church and the Witch Cooperation Association from knocking at his door, Roland had ordered the dungeon warden to find a woman with a similar build and let her replace Anna on the gallows. In addition to the Knight Commander and Assistant Minister, everyone who was with him in the dungeon hush money consisting of 20 gold royals. This was an enormous windfall for them.

Barov even proposed killing all of the witnesses, or they would never keep their silence forever, but Roland rejected this. He knew he could not prevent this secret from spreading, but this didn’t matter because he actually wanted someone to spread the word, just not now. He would fall out with the church sooner or later anyway, those idiots who promoted the intolerance that caused such a waste of resources! On the other hand, other witches would hear there was a border town in the kingdom where they could live a free life, and could even get preferential treatment, what would these witches think?

No matter what age in time it was, the talent one possessed was the most important thing.

“Then everything is alright,” Roland said, “Next point, for the tariffs, taxes and expenditures of the year, you previously gave me a short summary, let me have a proper look at them. Furthermore, those workshops in the city, the places that make ironware, textiles, pottery and such, you also have to include the numbers and sizes.”

“I’ll need three days to prepare these records, but…“Barov said as he first nodded, then paused and looked like he wasn’t sure how to continue.

“What is the matter?” Roland asked. He was aware that finally, the moment had come where his ability was about to be tested. Yesterday everything he had done was questioned by the assistant minister because of his doubt in Roland, a scoundrel would always be a scoundrel, but having a bad character didn’t mean that they were also brainless. To aid and harbor a witch, in the eyes of the assistant minister, was akin to declaring war on the world.

“Your Highness, I do not understand …” Barov paused as he wrestled with his words, “In the past, although you made trouble, it was always more harmless, but now … taking such a significant risk only to save a witch? The law to hunt them down was proclaimed by the Church, and even your father, his Majesty Wimbledon III supports it.”

Roland thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you believe that this border town is a good place to live?”

“Uh, this …” Barov did not understand what this question had to do with the problem, after some time he gave his true opinion, “no.”

“It is awful, compared to Valencia, the City of Golden Harvests or the Port of Clearwater, what do you feel my chances are of winning the rights to the throne against my siblings?”

“…” The assistant minister opened his mouth but didn’t answer.

“Almost zero. So I can only choose to walk another path,” Roland continued as he watched expressionlessly as Barov took one step after another into the trap he laid down. “The kind of road that would even impress my father.”

He did not state the point that the witches were not inherently evil because to do so would have little success. Barov had been the Assistant Minister of Finance for twenty years and was regarded as a competent politician. For politicians, their personal gains were usually more important than the moral law of good and evil. Also taking the emotional route was not suitable for him, as Roland recalled the previous prince’s actions, he found out that he really couldn’t be considered as an upright and righteous person. So he chose to play on the eternal conflict between religious and secular authority, as the expanding power of the Holy Church was a constant thorn in the side of Wimbledon III.

The Church claimed that the world worked in accordance with the will of God, and the pope was the voice of God. If the people found what he said weren’t the truth, even full of lies, the dominance of the Holy Church would be greatly shaken.

With the phrase, “the witch is not evil, so I want to save her,” it would be hard to convince the assistant minister, but replaced with “she is not an evil witch, and I can use this to attack the church,” Barov could easily be persuaded to accept this conclusion.

” Regardless how the territories of my brothers and sisters flourished, it was a foregone conclusion that everything would end in the possession of the church. They had already stepped on the divine right of kings, if only the pope can be considered as rightful ruler, then are they the actual rulers of this land or are we?“ Roland paused for just the right amount of time before going on, ”even my father will have to place his hope in me: A leader who isn’t suppressed by the Holy Church, one who holds all the exclusive rights of a royal king, his choice would be very clear. ”

Changing the “enemy of the entire world” into “only the enemy of the Church” was easier to accept for many people, not to mention Barov, who was himself standing on the side of the royal family.

“In the same way, if he is aware of the extraordinary abilities they have, that they can pry open grip of the Holy Church, the execution orders will be nothing more than a paper joke. While there is no possibility to guarantee success, it’s not impossible either. Do you think I’m worth the risk? ” Roland stared at the assistant minister while saying these sentences in a row,”Do not falter now, Barov. You’ve been an assistant minister for twenty years, right? If I can become Wimbledon IV, the word assistant will be removed, or even further, something like… becoming the Hand of the King is possible, hmm? ”

……

Looking at Barov’s back who was leaving, Roland felt relieved. It was easy to see that he didn’t think much of his promise, this was normal, even Roland himself did not believe that this just recently scraped together plan, which was made up out of hubris could be realized. But that was not important, the key was to let Barov believe that he really thought that way. A sheltered noble’s son could only think of a simple plan, not to mention that the 4th Prince really hated the mentality of the church. At this time, the way to attract more witches was also paved.

As for his real thoughts? Even if Barov knew them, he wouldn’t be able to understand them.

Roland summoned the maid, “Call Miss Anna and tell her she should come to see me.”

Roland happily thought that the following business would be the best.

TN: if you’re interested into the Second Law of Thermodynamics
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6 Training Part I

In the castle backyard stood a single cottage, which was covered with wooden planks and had two windows. There was a pond in front of the cottage with a circumference of roughly nine and a half yards, and it was filled with river water, making it not only fire-resistant but also modifiable. Piled atop the ground were several iron ingots, which came from a blacksmith and were placed there by Carter.

Roland had chosen this location for the cottage because of its proximity to a well, but it was still too crude to be a laboratory. He shook his head, realizing that building a perfect lab overnight was not possible. He would need Barov to collect the resources before he could build an official workshop.

"How are you? Did you sleep well?"

Roland turned around and asked Anna, who seemed confused.

The witch in front of him and the witch he saw yesterday were two completely different people. After a thorough bath, her long flaxen hair draped over her shoulders like a shawl and had a soft luster. Her skin glowed with vitality and a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose added a youthful vitality to her face. Her body was still so thin that a strong breeze could topple her, but her cheeks were rosy and the bruises and marks on her neck had faded. Roland suspected that magic power not only gave witches extraordinary power, but also improved their health. Anna’s recovery rate was much faster than the average person’s.

"Since you experienced so much difficulty, you should be allowed to rest for a few days, but our time is limited, so I’ll make it up to you later." Roland walked around the girl. "Does your dress fit well?"

Anna wore clothes that he had carefully selected to satisfy his lewd tastes. The protective clothing that iron workers wore was too thick and unsuitable for her, while the elegant and classy robes many mages wore in games actually restricted mobility and would quickly be turned to ashes. As for maids’ dresses, was there any better clothing than this?

Even though this world had no modern maid outfits, it was not an issue since the current maid clothes were similar to those of later generations. Thus, Roland took a set of clothes from Tyre and cut it to Anna’s size, shortened the skirt, shortened the sleeves, folded the collar, and added a bow, thereby creating the new witch uniforms.

This was accompanied by a witch hat (customized), black boots (ready), as well as a knee-length cape (tailored), and Roland found himself looking at a character he had only seen in movies..

"Your Highness… What can I do for you?" Anna asked.

Anna really could not keep up with the ideas of this man, and she felt that she was losing her judgement. As she was dragged out of the dungeon with a bag over her head, she thought she would soon be free from her cursed life. However, after taking off the bag, Anna found herself not in the gallows or the guillotine, but a magnificent room. Then, a bunch of people flooded in and began undressing and bathing her from her armpits to her toes, leaving nothing unpolished.

Next was her clothing, and Anna didn’t expect that someone would help her get dressed. She also never knew that clothes could be so comfortable that they laid gently on her body and created no friction at all.

Finally, a bearded old man entered the room, and after he ordered everyone else to step out, he placed a contract in front of her. At this moment Anna realized that the man who said he wanted to hire her in the dungeon was actually Prince Roland of this kingdom, and that he wasn’t joking. The contract clearly stated that if she worked for the prince, she would be paid a gold royal every month.

Anna knew how much a gold royal was worth. Her father’s pay as a miner was determined by the amount of ore he mined, but even his best haul was only worth one silver royal. One hundred silver royals were equal to a gold royal, and this still depended on the purity of the silver royals. So, was her job to sleep with the prince? Anna had heard the maids whispering this while she was bathing, but she didn’t think she was worth this price. Her blood was tainted by the devil, so anyone who knew of her identity avoided her at all costs. Even if the prince’s curiosity was so compelling that he didn’t fear the devil, he didn’t need to pay her.

However, no one came into her bedroom that night, and she fell asleep peacefully. It was the softest bed Anna had ever slept in, so she lay down and immediately fell asleep. When she woke up the next day, it was already noon, and lunch was being served in her room, consisting of bread, cheese and steak. She had been ready to die, but after tasting the luxurious meal, Anna could not but start to cry.

The sauces and seasonings exploded in her mouth with a strong spicy flavor mingled with a sweet taste, attacking her taste buds… Suddenly, she felt that the world was a little bit brighter.

Anna felt that if she ate this food every day, she would even have more courage to fight the demons that attacked her body.

Standing in this garden that looked nothing like her prison cell, Anna secretly made up her mind. Since the prince needed her, whether it wearing strange clothes, or even using the devil’s power, she was willing to try. So, she repeated her question, but without hesitation this time.

"Your Highness, what can I do for you?"

"Right now, I want you to learn to control your own strength. Practice it over and over until you can send out and retract your flames freely."

"You mean the devil’s…"

"No, no, Miss Anna." Roland interrupted her. "This is your power." The witch blinked her beautiful blue eyes.

"Most people in the world have the misconception that witches’ power belongs to the devil and is incredibly evil, but they are wrong." Roland bent down and met her at eye level. "But you already figured that out, right?"

Roland remembered Anna’s chuckle in the dungeon. Would a person who felt she was evil laugh with such self-mockery?

"I didn’t use my power to hurt anyone else," she murmured, "except that looter."

"Self-defense is not a sin, and you did the right thing. People fear you because they do not understand you, and they only know that training will lead to power, but they do not know how to become a witch. Unknown power is always scary."

"You’re not afraid," Anna said.

"Because I know your power belongs to you." Roland laughed. "But if that looter had such incredible strength, I wouldn’t be able to stand so calmly in front of him."

"Well, let’s get started," he said.

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7 Training Part II

The fire rose up from her feet but quickly dispersed.

That had been her twenty-third attempt.

And she had failed again.

On Anna’s forehead, beads of sweat constantly appeared, but she used the back of her hand to wipe them away, and the crackling sound of rising flames went out.

Without stopping to rest, the end of one exercise was immediately followed by the start of the next. The witch’s uniform lay at her side, neatly folded. If Anna had not insisted on doing so, her new uniform would have already been burned to ashes.

Fortunately, given Roland’s identity as the Fourth Prince, getting a few spare robes for her to practice in was not difficult. He had his maid Tyre deliver a whole bucket of robes, gathered by the maids for Anna to use.

The twenty-fourth attempt had finally been successful. The flame no longer came from her feet. Instead, it appeared in her hands. She gingerly moved her arm to try and have the flame go to her fingertips, but the flame suddenly shook twice and engulfed her arm, setting her sleeve on fire, spreading from the sleeve to engulf the whole robe.

Anna dispelled the flames, but her robe was already completely burnt and unusable, so she turned to the bucket and got a new one.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but whenever it did Roland would look away. He would stare off into the distance, even if Anna herself didn’t care.

In fact, if it weren’t for Roland’s strong objections, she would probably have taken off all of her clothes and practiced in the nude, in broad daylight! But even if Roland would look at her, he wouldn’t be able to work well with a naked girl, especially when that girl burst into flames and her body gave off an entirely different kind of energy.

Roland shook his head, removing such impure thoughts from his mind. For the moment, it seemed very difficult to master the use of magic. Roland had instructed Anna to try to control the fire to such a degree that she could release flames from her palm or her fingers without destroying her own clothes. However, he also wanted the flames to be hot enough that they could melt the pig iron ingots that were in the yard.

After Anna’s thirtieth attempt had failed but before she could begin the next one, Roland stopped her and told her to take a break.

Anna looked startled, but she gave no other response.

Roland had to walk over and even pull Anna by her hand, leading her to a chair and forcing her to sit down.

"You are tired; when you are tired you need to rest. Do not be too impatient, we still have some time." He helped her wipe the sweat from her forehead and said, "Let us have some early afternoon tea."

Roland knew that the noble of the Kingdom of Graycastle were not in the habit of drinking afternoon tea. Since this world’s economy was underdeveloped, the vast majority of people would not have the opportunity to taste such delicious food. The people in this world were not familiar with the idea of eating three meals a day, not to mention a fourth one. As for the sons of nobles, they generally gathered together in the afternoon at bars or casinos.

If Roland wanted to introduce the custom, he had to prepare the food and drink himself, for the maid and the cook were not familiar with it. Since prepared some light refreshments and they didn’t have any tea, he was forced to use ale as a substitute, but it would be important to get some tea in the future.

So, in a wooden cottage in the castle backyard, the first afternoon tea party of Graycastle was held.

Anna looked at the dishes of exquisite snacks, not believing her eyes. How could food look so beautiful?

Although she did not know the name of the cake she ate, it was a pure white, and the bright red collection of fruit could make a person’s mouth water.. The edges of the pastries were decorated with exquisite patterns. This experience exposed her to things she had never seen before, forcing her to change her view of the world once again.

Roland proudly observed Anna’s expressions; she looked stunned, but also slightly frightened. Although the strawberries on the cream cake were marinated in sugar and didn’t even taste fresh, Anna ate the whole thing.

Roland found that watching the witch’s face while she ate was more satisfying than eating himself. Roland observed Anna, who was carefully placing the cake into her mouth, her blue eyes twinkling and her hair gently swaying in the wind. Seeing all this, his heart suddenly beat faster and he thought to himself, why would anyone eat food which is not only delicious, but also beautiful!

Well, these strong feelings were also very important.

Watching Anna while she practiced and having afternoon tea with her became Roland’s daily routine. He had not shown any interest in government affairs. Barov helped him to take care of any issues so that everything was in order.

Three days later, Barov delivered the information on the Border Town’s industries that Roland had asked for to his office. This was an unbelievable moment; the former Fourth Prince had never actually had the patience to see such a large pile of complicated reports.

In fact, even now he still didn’t have it. Roland needed only to read two lines of text before he began to feel dizzy, and he told Barov, "You’ll read it to me."

He spent an hour listening to Barov read the reports before he found a mistake. "Why did the Border Town have no trade revenue or annual taxes in the winter?"

Since the winters were so cold, the lack of agriculture revenue was reasonable, but how could it be absolute zero? Did the local people hibernate?

Barov coughed, "Your Highness, have you forgotten? During the winter months, the ‘Months of the Demons’ takes place. Since the town cannot guard its borders, all of the residents must evacuate to Longsong Stronghold. But rest assured, your safety is certainly our main priority."

"Months of the Demons?" Roland seemed to recall having heard that phrase before. He personally didn’t believe the tales of ghosts and the legends of wicked witches, and he privately considered it to be part of this uncivilized world’s nonsense and superstition. But now it seemed that the monsters were not myths, since witches did actually exist. Then, what about other famous legends, like ghosts?

When he was receiving his education, his history tutor had told him the story of the "Month of the Demons." Every winter, after the first snow fell and the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, an intense darkness would descend upon the world. At that time, the gates of hell would open and release demons into the world.

The evil spirits would corrupt living creatures and turn them into the slaves of the devil. Some of these animals would change into powerful demonic beasts that would attack humans. Most witches were born during this season and would be much stronger because of it.

"Have you seen the Gates of Hell?" Roland asked.

"Your Highness, how could we ordinary people see them?" Barov shook his head repeatedly. "Don’t say such things. The mountains they come from cannot be conquered. Even being close to the mountains means you’ll be affected by the foul miasma. First you get a mild headache, and then you can lose your mind in the most severe cases. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless the person who goes to the Gates of Hell is a witch. Only a witch would be able to travel to the Gates of Hell because they have fallen from grace and become the devil’s minions. Naturally, they don’t need to fear the evil forces," Barov said, glancing in the direction of the backyard.

"Have you ever seen one of these demonic monsters?" Roland said, knocking on the table to recapture the attention of the Assistant Minister.

"Well, I personally haven’t see them. Like you, this is my first time I have ever been to the kingdom’s borders. In the capital, only a few people there have encountered real demons."

If he needed to evacuate once a year, how would Roland be able to develop the Border Town? He initially thought that the Border Town was a barren land, but that it could be developed; that now seemed to be a pipe dream.

"Since we can hold of the demonic beasts at Longsong Stronghold, and since they aren’t invincible and they can be killed, then why can’t we defend this Border Town as well?"

"Longsong Stronghold has a very high wall. Also, Duke Ryan’s elite troops are stationed there. It is nothing like this Border Town. This small town cannot be compared to it," Barov explained. "First, the Border Town was established to provide an early warning to the stronghold. Therefore, the town was set between the North Slop Mountain and the Redwater River."

It seemed that the Border Town only existed to slow down the demons. It was the only path they could take to reach Longsong Stronghold. Roland laughed at his bad luck.

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8 Months of Demons Part I

If Roland wanted to develop the Border Town, he would have to put down roots. Even though the area was a wasteland, it could easily be reclaimed and improved. If the size of the territory was too small, people could expand outwards. However, all of talk was useless if no one was willing to stay.

If they could be forced to abandon their land at any time, then who would be willing to purchase it? Who would want to improve it?

After the Assistant Minister left, Roland called in Chief Knight Carter and ordered, "Assemble your men and go and find some of the local guards, hunters and farmers who have lived here for more than five years. Ask them if they have experienced the Months of the Demons. If you find someone who has fought a demon, that would be even better."

After the knight saluted and left, Roland rubbed his forehead and continued to look at the data compiled by the Assistant Minister.

The Border Town primarily exported products from hunting and mining, and mainly imported food. Everything was transported directly along the Redwater River to Longsong Stronghold or Willow town.

The mining exports included all kinds of minerals, such as iron, copper, sulfur, crystal, ruby, and sapphire, etc. This was completely against the concept of associated minerals. He thought about what Anna had said to him: the North Slope Mine area was rumored to be an unknown underground lair, and until now there had been no proven bottom to the mine. It was also unknown how far the mine extended.

The minerals the town exported weren’t paid for with the kingdom’s gold royals, but instead they were traded for the foodstuffs that arrived. It seems reasonable that, since the gems were a high-priced luxury, in these last five years the Border Town should have saved a surplus of food, but there was nothing left.

In other words, the annual mining production of the Border Town was only enough to feed two thousand people. Before the prince had arrived, the Border Town had been governed by the duke who also controlled Longsong Stronghold; it was him who had set up this arrangement. In his opinion, it would save food and also created a warning system for the monsters.

The fur trade was how the local people made their living. They ventured into the Misty Forest to the west and hunted birds and other animals. They then sold the animals to the acquirers of Longsong Stronghold or to the residents of Willow Town. No transactions took place in the Border Town and so no taxes were collected.

Roland thought that, since he had come this practice could not continue; minerals would no longer be paid for with food. The Redwater River ran through the whole kingdom, and anyone could use it. It was essentially a highway; even if they no longer bought food from Longsong Stronghold, there were other places they could trade with.

However, this was all built upon the premise that he could stay in the Border Town and hold off those damn monsters.

Carter worked quickly and by the next day he had found two local guards and a hunter. He reported, "These two men are part of the town patrol, every year they are responsible for lighting the beacon. The hunter said he has crossed paths with the demons. He returned with the head of a demonic beast, which he said he cut off with his own two hands."

The three of them bowed simultaneously.

Roland nodded, gesturing for them to stand up; the first person stepped forward to speak.

"Honor... respected prince... Your Highness." The first guard who spoke was so nervous he was unable to speak clearly, "Brian and I are... are the people, uh... when it begins to snow, we... we’ll go to the North Slope Mine area... to the Beacon Tower. There it is the first possible... it is the first place where you can see the demons, and if they are crossing over in great numbers... we’ll conceal ourselves in the Misty forest... and light the beacon in the tower… We retreat up the road and board the boat, which we prepared beforehand... then we leave."

"Since you both were together, let your partner answer." Roland covered his face to hide his disapproval. "What are the demonic beasts like? Can they be killed?"

The other guard was also very nervous, but at least he did not stammer. "Your Highness, I believe so. They used to just be ordinary animals in the forest, but because of the evil miasma they become manic and ferocious; however, they can still be killed. During every past Months of the Demons, Longsong Stronghold would send cavalry to cleanse the remnants of the demon monsters along the land from Longsong Stronghold to Border Town."

"How long does the Months of the Demons?" Roland asked.

"Generally two to three months... it depends on the sun," said Brian.

"The sun?" Roland asked doubtfully.

"Yes," the guard explained. "Your Highness came to this town not too long ago, so you do not know. In this Border town, once the snow begins to fall it does not stop until the sun shines again and then the snow goes away."

"So the snow indicates the end of the Months of the Demons?" Roland recalled that at least in Graycastle, it was not like this. The next day it would stop snowing, and the sun would seem to be no different.

"It is exactly like this. The longest Months of the Demons I have experienced was two years ago, which lasted for nearly four months and many people starved."

"Why, shouldn’t be the grain reserves in Longsong stronghold large enough to support the town for more than one month?" Roland asked.

Brian’s face got a little angry. "They had enough. But Reynolds, the Municipal Administrative Governor who was responsible for managing such things, declared that the amount of ore and minerals mined was only enough to buy food for three months, and for the fourth month we had to deliver a new shipment of ore. But the Months of the Demons had not ended, and we couldn’t leave the fortress."

"So that is what happened... I understand."

They were fools to be alienating people. If Longsong Stronghold treated the people who lived on the frontier with this kind of cold harshness, like a spring wind, the frontiersmen would most likely want to stay and not leave. At the moment it seemed that the group of people controlling Longsong Stronghold were not the good-natured sort. Roland beckoned the last person forward to answer, while putting the name of the Municipal Administrative Governor in the back of his mind.

The third man looked courageous and strong, standing over 6 feet tall, making Roland feel tense. Fortunately, he came forward on his knees.

"You said you killed the beast?"

"Yes, Your Highness." His voice was low and hoarse. "A demonic boar and a demonic wolf."

"Species?" Roland repeated, "what do you mean?"

"This is the name of the demonic beast, Your Highness. The fiercer the animal was before, the more difficult it is to deal with variation after. The transformation emphasizes the advantages of the animal. The demonic boar’s back fur becomes extremely tough, even within 50 meters it is difficult to hurt it with a crossbow. The demonic wolf becomes more cunning and it runs faster. To kill it, you need to set up traps in advance."

"Stronger animals become even stronger and faster animals become even faster." Roland nodded as he heard this. "But they are still animals."

"Yes, they are, but they aren’t the most terrible kind of enemy," the hunter said. He swallowed his saliva before he could speak further, "The worst ones are the demonic hybrids."

"They are the devil incarnate; only hell is able to create such a horrible monster. I have seen a demonic hybrid. It had not only strong limbs of beast, but on its back there was a pair of huge wings, allowing it to fly short distances. And it always knew where I was. No matter how much I tried to hide, it could always detect me. It was not hunting its prey, Your Highness, but it was just teasing it." The hunter lifted his clothing, revealing a large scar extending from his abdomen to his chest. He said, "Before I lost consciousness I fell into the Redwater River. I was lucky to survive."

"Such a monster actually exists." Roland felt that the world was becoming more and more fantastic. A strong wall could stop all ordinary kinds of demonic beasts, but if they could fly, what should he do? "Demonic hybrids are very rare, right?"

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9 Months of Demons Part II

"There are not many, Your Highness," the hunter replied. "During every Months of the Demons, there’ll only be two to three demonic hybrids, otherwise Longsong Stronghold would be unable to defend itself."

"Well, you are very observant." Roland noted. He ordered the man to stand up and asked, "What’s your name? You don’t look like you are from my Kingdom of Graycastle."

"Half of my lineage hails from the Mojin Clan, and the townspeople call me Iron Axe."

Mojin, the Ironsand people were said to be the descendants of Ironsand Giant, who once lived in the southwest of the barren lands. Roland searched for any memories he had related to the Mojin Clan and realized that Iron Axe did not use the name his clan called him by, but instead used the name given to him by the people of Border Town. Apparently, he did not want to have a relationship with the Ironsand people. As for why, since it was obvious that he was from the southwestern border of the desolate lands, Roland estimated that there was a series of sad stories involved.

For the moment, those stories weren’t important; everyone was welcome in Border Town regardless of their background.

Roland clapped his hands. "That’s not why I asked you all to come here. Carter, give each of these men ten silver royals, and then they may go."

"Thank you very much for the reward, Your Highness," the three said in unison.

Afterwards, the men were taken away by Carter. Carter returned once again and asked, "Your Highness, why did you ask them these questions? Do you want to stay here?"

Roland didn’t express any opinion, but instead asked, "What do you think?"

"This matter is out of the question, Your Highness!" the knight said loudly. "According to the hunter, even the demonic boars would be difficult to defeat. Outside of 50 meters a shot from a crossbow would have no effect; we would have to wait until it came within 40 meters, or even until 30 meters before taking our shot. Only our elite soldiers could accomplish this. Plus, there’re too many demonic beasts, and we have no strong walls. We could only stand with the local guards to stop them. I’m afraid that the casualties would outstrip the accomplishment, and our defeat would be assured."

"You already saw what a witch is able to do, so why can’t you think positively?" Roland sighed.

"These... witches are evil, but Anna... Miss Anna does not look so. As your Chief Knight, I use facts to look for the truth."

"If I could give you a city wall, do you think it would be possible to defend Border Town?"

"What?" For a moment Carter suspected that he had heard Roland incorrectly.

"If I give you a wall between the North Slope Mountain and the Redwater River, could you defend Border Town?" Roland stressed every word he said. "Although they would not be like the enormous walls from Graycastle and built only to stop beasts, but they should be enough.

"Your Highness, do you understand what you are saying?" The knight honestly didn't know whether to be angry or to laugh. "Even your nonsense should have a limit. If you don’t stop, you’ll have to excuse my lack of manners."

"We still have three months, don’t we? I looked at Border Town’s records, and the first snow usually falls then."

"Even if we had three years it would not be enough! Building a wall would require many workers. To set the foundation they must compress the earth and every one or two feet has to be reinforced; otherwise, there is a high risk of collapse. This would only be the most simple of earthen walls." Carter shook his head repeatedly. "Brick and stone walls are even more difficult to build and it would need hundreds of stonemasons who would first have to cut the stones or bake the clay into bricks. Afterwards they would need to build it block by block. Your highness, all walls are built this way, without exception. A city being built in a day and a night is only the stuff of legends."

Roland indicated he had heard enough. "I see. You don’t need to be so upset. If there is no reliable wall in place when the time comes, I’ll evacuate with you to Longsong Stronghold. I’m not prepared to die in this place."

The knight knelt, swearing, "I’ll protect you!" Afterwards, in the beautiful castle gardens, Roland nipped at his bitter ale. Looking at Anna, who was intently eating cream cakes, his mood recovered substantially.

He had decided to stop the demonic beasts at Border town by joining the elite soldiers with the town guards. He would also increase the amount of available farmland by expanding the area the guards patrolled. If he wanted to build a wall connecting the North Slope Mountain and the Redwater River within three months, he would have to use technology from modern times.

It was not that Roland had just suddenly thought of this. Previously he had checked the edges of Border Town (although he didn’t go personally). In his mind he had a clear picture—the Northern Slope Mountain and the Redwater River were only separated by 600 meters at their closest point; it was a natural bottleneck. And due to the year-round, the area was surrounded by rock gravel mined from the cave.

These gravel cast offs were ash gray, containing plenty of calcium carbonate, which could be used as limestone after it was ground. With the limestone, he had his solution. It would be the same as cement. Being able to build with a water hardening material, with raw materials which were easy to obtain and simple to prepare: it would change the history of mankind. It would stand as one of humanity’s greatest achievements, among the most efficient tools for tilling fields.

Roland estimated the time he would need. Even if he could implement new technology, even with cement, he wasn’t sure if it was possible. The amount of cement they needed was too much and he wasn’t sure if they could calcine so much cement powder in three months. The strength of the concrete would be subpar and they would need to reinforce it with steel. Thus, the odds for successfully building a concrete city were not great.

They had to maximize the usage of existing materials in order to save cement, so building a fieldstone wall seemed to be the most appropriate choice.

The so-called fieldstone was a stone which had not undergone any grinding; it was just a natural byproduct of mining. This stone, because of the irregular edges and corners, had no direct uses in building, but instead it first needed to be processed by the stonemason into usable bricks. However, building a fieldstone wall and using cement as binder was possible. Regardless of how oddly shaped the stone was, it could still be used, and the gaps between the stones was filled in by the cement. This process saved cement and used leftover materials.

With this, the course was set, but as for the actual implementation, Roland was afraid he would have to do that by himself. Regardless of whether it was the calcined cement or fieldstone wall, both of these were new ideas. Except him, no one had ever seen these things, and no one knew how to make them. He was afraid he would be very busy for the next three months.

"You, look here." The sound of Anna's clear voice came from behind him.

As Roland turned, he saw a small cluster of flames in her palm burning quietly. There was no wind, but the tip of the flames was rising up and down, as if it was nodding to her. She shook her finger and the fire slowly moved towards the tip of her finger. Finally, it stood at the very tip of her index finger.

"You did it." It was an incredible scene. Roland felt sincere admiration for what he had just witnessed. This was not a magical illusion, nor a chemical trick, but a real supernatural power. However, this was not the thing Roland was attracted to—many times more dazzling than the flame was Anna’s expression.

While she was intently staring at her fingertips, her lake water limpid eyes were reflecting the vibrant flame, as if an elf was sealed within a sapphire in her eyes. The traces left from being tortured in prison had already faded, and though she rarely smiled, her face was no longer lifeless. On the tip of her nose was a speck of sweat and the rosy color on her white checks emitted vitality. Anyone who looked at her would be put into a cheerful mood.

"What happened to you?"

"Ah... Nothing." Roland noticed he had looked at her for too long, and he removed his gaze and coughed. "Well then, try using it to melt the iron."

In the past few days, except for eating and sleeping, Anna had continuously practiced. In front of the hardworking enthusiast, Roland could only endlessly blush in shame—even when he studied for the college entrance examination he did not work so hard.

"Apparently, she’ll not need long until she completely grasps this power," Roland thought. "Once she does, my ideas for new projects can be put on the agenda."

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10 The Stonemason

Chapter 10 The Stonemason

This week, the weather wasn’t good, the sky was always gray, Karl van Bate’s mood was like the weather, gloomy to the extreme.

Walking on the wet stone street, from time to time there were people greeting him. In in this town, Karl run a school. At Graycastle those noble children with the talent to go to school, attended a different kind of college, here he was also teaching for the children of ordinary people. Therefore, in this border town, he had a very high reputation.

“Hey, Mr. van Bate, good morning.”

“Sir, is my son doing all right?”

“When are you free, Karl, let’s go fishing together.”

At ordinary times Karl would always smile and would respond to them, but today he just nodded, never saying a word.

Since he witnessed the hanging of Anna, in his eyes the world appeared to be flawed – or to say since his departing from Graycastle a crack seems to be rising into existence, but he deliberately turned a blind eye. He used his busy work to numb himself, and to a certain extent, he even used the innocent smile of the students, to cover this crack.

Until Anna died, he thought, that the world had not changed. But after the hanging, the crack not only did not disappear, but it expanded.

Regarding Anna, he recalled the memories of the previous half a year. Withinthe more than thirty children in her class she stood not out, with a normal appearance, she was never a person of many words, but there was something that let Karl felt a little impressed.

That was her passion for knowledge. No matter what they would teach, characters or history, she could always remember it on her first try. Even if it was the boring history and evolution of the religion, she was always seen holding a book. He had seen the young lady help to take care of her neighbor’s sheep, sitting down in the sun, Anna would carefully brush the sheep’s hair, gently, like someone would do it with a baby. The picture he could still remember very clearly was the sweet smile of a happy girl, no matter what or how he could not think of her as a sinister and evil person.

Later there was a fire at her place, and Anna’s mother unfortunately passed away, afterwards Anna never came back to college. He never saw her again, until a week ago, when she was proved to be a witch and hanged in the town square.

Be tempted by the devil? An unclean person? Evil? All fart! In his heart, he had for the first time doubts about the Holy Church, for the first time he doubted the knowledge they imparted.

Whether or not Anna was a witch, he didn’t knew, but she would never turn evil! If a yet to mature girl, a girl ignorant of the world and full of curiosity could be called evil, then the administrative officials of Graycastle were from hell and possessed by the devil too! In order to save several hundreds of gold royals, they deliberately stole stone material in exchange, leading to the collapse of the half-finished theater building; more than thirty masons of their guild had died.

But were they hanged? Not even one! The judge finally ruled that the leader of the stonemasons was unsuitable for his job, he was punished into exile, the stonemasons were forced to disband.

And Carl, who knew the insight story, fled out of the limelight and left Graycastle, he followed the road into the west, eventually ending in the border town.

He managed to establish a college, with a lot of students, he already got to know the new neighbors, he found new friends, but the crime from the officers of Graycastle was always engraved in his mind. Now, once again he felt the world was mocking him- what was evil, the gods of heaven could they really see it clearly?

The last overwhelming straw for Karl was Nana.

Nana and Anna were nothing alike; one could even say they were the complete opposite. She was a very lively girl, quite well known in the college. Only seldom attending class, and when she was there, she could never pay attention, only lying in the grass. If you asked what she did, she would giggle for a while, and then she would answer that she was looking at a fight between a grasshopper and ants.

Nana’s face was always full of laughter; it seemed to be her nature. The evil world had nothing to do with her, at least in the college, she could always be happy and was able to laugh. Karl was even a little curious – if she had ever cried since she was born.

Until two days ago, when suddenly, with a long face, Nana came to find him, “teacher, will I be hanged too, like Anna?”

This let him knew, his student, Nana had became a witch.

“Ah, isn’t that Teacher? Come over here and help us to look at what it says.”

Karl felt as if someone had pulled his sleeve. He looked up and found that he had arrived at the town square. Many people stood around the board andshouted, that someone should let them know what the announcement said,hearing van Bate’s name, everyone consciously get out of his way.

“Teacher, you coincidentally came, help us to look at it.”

“You are right, originally it was Meg who would read this to us, but the end result was, that before he could tell it to us, he got stomachache and had togo to the toilet, until now he did not come back.”

Like always, he nodded with a smile, then he explained in detail the content of the bulletin board to everybody who listened. But at the present Karl discovered it was impossible — the smiles and enthusiasm of these people was not fake, but for him it was, but seeing this, it became more and more intolerable to wear the fake mask himself.

The post of the hanging of Anna was placed above the notice, everyone was cheerily discussing about it. In a sense, you were her murderer; he could say it only in his own heart, your ignorance and fear had killed her.

Karl had to swallow down his emotion, took a deep breath and walked to the front of the announcement list.

“The prince called for hands to help with the construction of new buildings for the border town, a variety of different kinds of jobs is available,” he said.

But I am also one of her killers, and what qualifications do I have to blame them? The one who told them that witches were evil, was it not me? Karl had a bitter taste in his mouth, look, everything they knew I have taught them, word by word the Holy Church doctrine, I always thought I taught well, to hell with it!

“Stone grinder, they have to be male, from 20 years to 40 years old and healthy. Payment, 25 bronze royals per day.”

Mud craftsmen, not limited to gender, over 18 years old, they should have experience in masonry, the daily payment would be 45 bronze royals.”

“Handyman, requiring to be men, 18 years of age or older, 12 bronze royals per day.”

“……”

No, he had to do something, if Anna’s death has been irreparable, then at least he couldn’t let Nana die. Karl heard his inner voice shouting, “the Mason guild collapsed when you did not stand up, Anna was hanged when he did not stand up, do you like what happened when you staid silence, helplessly looking at these lovely child, when she would be sent to the gallows?”

But what could he do? Could he flee with Nana out of Border Town? He had his own family, a family who traveled with him from Graycastle, just whenthere live got better would they need to leave again? Even Nana herself, who was born into a rich family, would she leave her fixed place of life?

Stonemason, not limited to gender, age is not limited, preferred are people who participated in building for the municipal administration, like the stronghold, or other fortifications, the city hall recruit for long term , with monthly remuneration of 1 gold royal.”

“Additional Term: People with rich experience and excellent performance, could get granted an official position.”

After reading the notice, the people become even more noisy, “paid monthly 1 gold royal, this is even better than the payment for the stronghold cavalry!”

“Will you go? Can you build a fortress?”

“You, just don’t only stare at this, go get a job, every day you would get payed for the work, count together you would not get much less than with hunting.”

“Indeed, when going to hunt it is possible to lose one’s own life and when you have to dodge it is also possible to get lost.”

Karl van Bate did not pay attention to this; he concentrated on the seal and signature on the final notice. It was the autograph from Roland Wimbledon, the fourth prince.

Did the prince not know, that the Month of the Demons was already coming? Whatever he wants to build, at the moment it’s not a good time to start. It seems his Highness knew nothing about constructions, provided that oneself could become the stonemasons, would he then brought to his attention …… Karl had suddenly an idea, perhaps through this recruitment, he could see the prince himself, the highest ruling in Border town.

This thought let Karl swallow a mouth of saliva, could he convince the prince that the witches were not evil? There were rumors of his Royal Highness unique ideas, he should have a character different from ordinary people, but also that he hated the church very much. Maybe he could do it! He thought, although in the end the hanging of Anna was ordered by Prince Roland, but everyone could see he was not willing to do it.

The prince himself was still in his early twenties, this should make it easier to understand, those girls were still in the marriageable age, how will they suddenly become evil and do unforgivable acts?

Of course, there was a possibility that Karl would end as a Witch Helper, he would have to go to the gallows, together with the witch. The Church’s law stipulates that anyone who shield a witch or who would plea for leniency, should be regarded as someone who abandoned himself and become a demon disciple.

Only the prince, the prince who hated the church, could be his last hope, since only he could declare the church’s law as a waste of paper.

Karl prayed in his heart.

Even though he did not know to which God he should pray, he closed his eyes and prayed for a blessing.

In memorial of the dead Anna, for the sake of Nana who was still alive, andfor himself, so that his own heart crack would no longer expand.

He decided to take the risk.
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11 Princess Garcia

"The air is getting colder." Garcia Wimbledon lamented, combing her hair with her fingers that blew in the wind, as she gazed at the ocean beyond the shoreline.

"It's because winter comes soon," the handsome man behind her replied, "and although we live in the south, we are not in Southernmost Land. Only the people of Sand Nation are ignorant of the meaning of winter."

"The ocean current will stop all movements of our fleets in winter. This is our last chance to sail out." The young woman retorted. "Ryan, how long has the Blacksail Fleet been away?"

"Two months and four days," the man replied without hesitation, "If there are no hiccups, they'll arrive at the Port of Clearwater in three days."

Garcia laughed. "I do hope they bring enough surprises."

Ryan Koban looked at the famous woman in front of him, and feelings welled up in his heart. Her long gray hair reflected a faint silver glow in the autumn sun, and her eyes were narrow and light green. When she stared at someone, her eyes would give off a kind of unspeakable sense of oppression. Her long stays at the beach had turned her skin rougher and less fair than that of the other women, but Ryan did not mind. In his eyes, Garcia's temperament made up for any lack of beauty.

Unlike her close relatives at Graycastle, Garcia Wimbledon is the true genius. She had the wisdom and pride of the noble, but she was not dulled by the constant routine. In fact, she showed aspects that were closer to that of the common people, she was full of expectations and adventurous.

Of course, no common people could have such power and vision as hers. Even the duke and the princes seemed short-sighted in front of her. With all the income from the Port of Clearwater trade being poured into the construction of the fleet, there was not even a copper left in the vault. This characteristic was far beyond those misers.

"There is no meaning to put gold royals in the coffer. It's like a stone when it's not in use, and only when you spend it, can it reflect its value. To spend the money doesn't mean you lose it, but rather, you create a return value that's even greater." Ryan's memory of what she had said to him echoed deep in his psyche, and this was a sobering concept that formed in contrast to the usual perceived stereotype.

Compared to that of the noble families who spent their time accumulating and growing wealth, Ryan believed that hers was the demeanor of a ruler.

So he went under the command of Garcia without hesitation, and followed her to the Port of Clearwater.

But after arriving here, Ryan learned that the princess was so much more outstanding than that. She not only had ideas but also was full of actions. She created the plan of Blacksail Fleet and executed it in a well-ordered way. As early as five years ago, Garcia's forces had penetrated the Port of Clearwater, preparing for the formation of the Blacksail Fleet, with no Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince announced by Wimbledon III. In other words, she had long been ahead in the race of all other heirs.

"Let's go inside; the wind grows stronger," said Garcia. Her palace was located on the Salmon Harbor at the southernmost tip of the Port of Clearwater. The tower-like building looked like a watchtower on the coast. It possessed a circular terrace at the top, allowing a bird's eye view of the harbor and all ships that entered and exited it.

Five years had passed since the beginning of the operation, and the Port of Clearwater trade had begun to take shape. A three-masted ship would appear at the harbor every six months, and a foundation of trust had been laid down. Taking advantage of Princess Garcia's good mood, Ryan asked the question that had been plaguing his mind for months.

"Your Highness, there's something I don't understand." Ryan closed the door, cutting them off from the whistling wind.

"Go ahead." She smiled and nodded.

"How is it that you were able to predict all of this, even before the King had announced the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince?" He had guessed that the King had alerted her in advance, but it was impossible to know for certain. It was known that the king favored the second prince, and that this competition was set up in his favor. After all, he was given a clear win when he was assigned Valencia for his fiefdom.

Was she able to guess this all on her own, so that she could set out the framework as early as five years ago? Heavens, she was only 20 years old!

"I could predict it?" She shot him a strange look. "Do you take me for a witch? I have no such powers."

"But..."

"I had no idea that my father would take the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince as a way to give everything to his precious second son. In all truth, is there any relationship between what I'm doing and that Royal Decree?"

"No relationship?" A thought occurred to Ryan, and he could not help but gawk.

Seeing Ryan Koban's strange expression, Garcia laughed. "Is it that I must wait for my father's permission, and only then I can compete for what is thrown? Will it not always be the case that he who governs best will become the ruler of the Kingdom of Graycastle?" "I thought you understood the plan behind the Blacksail Fleet."

"So she has not created the fleet purely to increase her property," Ryan murmured. After the trade was completed, the fleet would put up black sails somewhere far away from the port and rob the merchant ships of other cities or countries. Similarly, the princess would encourage her subjects to sail into the sea and participate in the Blacksail Fleet plot. She gave her word that the Port of Clearwater would never tax any profit gained in this manner, and that it would remain the property of the captain of the ship.

This move had brought the princess great wealth, so this time she had simply ordered the Blacksail Fleet to move towards the south. They would plunder any ship throughout the Endless Cape, as well as those people of Sand Nation.

Yet these movements were not solely for the sake of money. Garcia did not use the profits from the fleet to build a city or expand trade by roadway, rather, she poured the money back into her ships, expanding the size of the fleet.

Over the past few years, she had won over a large number of people—experienced sailors, aggressive warriors, and popular figures. If she lost governance of the area, those who committed the crimes of theft and plundering would be sent to the gallows.

'The person who governs the best city will win the throne of Graycastle?!' No, Ryan now knew it was Garcia Wimbledon that would ascend the throne, because she possessed a large number of ships and soldiers and could move along the Sanwan River to pose a threat to Valencia.

"Did you know that you'd be assigned to the Port of Clearwater?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't expect that. It was a move to increase the trade of this city." Garcia shrugged. "It was also payback to the church who'd tried to fool me."

"This had something to do with the church?" When Garcia did not continue, Ryan dared not ask. If there was one thing that he was sure of, it was that even if she did not come to the Port of Clearwater, she would take over the place and continue with her plan.

"Let's move on." She took a sip of her black tea. "My little plan seems to have failed."

"Ah, yes," Ryan quickly recovered and replied, "and the only news we have received from Border Town was that the plan had failed. We have received no more information since then."

"Our spies must have been killed by my brothers. It's unsurprising. These people were just pawns that we placed in order to win some time, and had no weight on the actual situation. Nonetheless..." She changed the topic of the conversation. "It's normal that other plans have failed, but I didn't expect the fourth Prince to remain safe. To tell you the truth, I'm a bit disappointed."

"Kingfisher reported in her letter that the pills were consumed, but..."

"A failure is a failure, and I don't need an explanation." Garcia interrupted. "The Months of Demons are around the corner, our fourth Prince will go to Longsong Stronghold for refuge. When demonic beasts invade Border Town, Stronghold will be in chaos for a while. Write to her and tell her to take this chance. Will the goddess of luck continue to stay on my brother's side?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"You may take your leave." Garcia waved, but as Ryan was about to leave, the princess stopped him. "Oh, yes, if I remember correctly, the pills were bought from the alchemist Enbis?"

Ryan nodded his head.

"What did he say? It was colorless and tasteless, just like water? It caused death, and had no cure? It was his latest invention?" Garcia yawned. "Hang him."

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12 Firing the Cemen

Roland stood by the kiln, waiting for the first batch of cement.

The brick structure was designed for cement production, about 15 meters long and four meters wide. It had a front and a back door. The front door was designed wide enough to allow the transport of materials and people coming in and out of the room. The back door, on the other hand, was only large enough for one person and functioned as Anna's secret entrance.

To this end, he also built a wall surrounding half of the kiln and stationed guards at the entrance and exit. They were all Carter's men and he had no doubt about their loyalty.

The cement production process was easy to explain. First, limestone was crushed into powder, and then mixed with clay or iron powder. It would result in a paste whether they use the wet or dry method. After combining it with gypsum, the cement would be ready for use. Raw materials were readily available and no iron powder was included for it was difficult to produce. The key was in the calcination temperature.

Roland could not remember the specific temperature required to melt the cement. Thanks to the fact that he did not have the necessary tools like an infrared thermometer or a thermo coupling temperature gun needed to measure the said temperature, the process was made incredibly difficult. He only knew that the melting point of cement was similar to that of iron, and that the calcination process was also a tricky factor when it came to making cement.

For such an era of undeveloped technology, it was a huge problem to simply maintain the temperature of the blast furnace. The common open furnace would result in great heat loss and it was difficult to keep it burning above 1,200 ℃. As for the reverberation furnace, it required an inner capable of sustaining higher temperatures, but he did not know how to create the refractory bricks. The traditional blast furnace used for iron was even worse. The temperature may suffice, with only a narrow furnace cavity available to calcite the cement, but they could not produce enough cement before the end of Months of Demons.

With this in mind, Roland designed a kiln that needed no heating and relied on Anna instead.

Broken particles of limestone and clay were mixed with water to form a paste, which was spread evenly throughout the firing room. Then the knights locked the door and cleared out the laborers. Anna then entered through the back door and heated the ground beneath the paste until the iron bar placed inside the room also melted.

Roland was becoming restless. This was his first step in guarding Border Town. If he could not produce any cement, his plan of building a city wall in three months would just be empty words. Without a wall to protect the town, he worried that no one would be willing to stay in this godforsaken place. Whether in history or fictional literature, a stable base was necessary for agriculture.

"Your Highness, you're saying that this material can hold stones together?" asked Carter Lannis, who stood near Prince Roland. Even though the prince had said this was the result of the latest research by the alchemical workshop in Kingdom of Graycastle, he was nonetheless skeptical. After all, that group of people was never famous for being useful.

"Who knows? That's what they said," Roland replied.

In this world, alchemy and astrology were known as the sage arts, and were very popular in the mainland. The royal family would generally keep their own alchemists and astrologers to predict and improve their fate. For ordinary folks however, such knowledge was beyond their comprehension and thus had little enthusiasm for them. Keeping this in mind, it was only natural for Roland to claim that the cement was a product of the alchemical workshop. He did not care about whether the chief knight believed it or not.

The flame in the window eventually died down. The firing of the cement seemed to be complete.

Roland stood up at once. Sending Carter away to the yard, he waited alone in front of the brick house.

The iron door creaked as it opened and Anna stepped out, naked. Roland draped a robe over her at once and handed her a glass of water. "How was it?"

The witch's face was painted a dusty gray. Even though wet cement would not produce much dust, it would still appear when the cement was burning. Since she could not wear a mask, it was uncomfortable for her to stay inside for tens of minutes. She coughed twice and nodded. "The mud has turned gray."

Roland was too impatient to wait for the temperature to be lowered. Wetting a towel, he wrapped it around his head and grabbed a shovel. He then went in through the back door.

Hot air instantly engulfed him and he found it difficult to breathe. The skin on his hands was burnt raw. Fortunately, shoveling the ashes took only a short moment. Otherwise, he might really experience thermal shock had he stayed any longer.

"Is this what you want?" Anna asked, staring at the material. She had already put on her witch's robes.

"Looks like it." Roland flattened the powder and tested the temperature with his fingers. "I wouldn't know for sure until we use it."

"What's the use of this thing?"

"To build houses and bridges and to repair roads. There are too many uses for this thing. If it succeeds, people won't have to worry about the cold or the rain and snow damaging their houses." Using his other hand, he patted the girl on the head. "It's all thanks to you."

Anna lowered her head. He wasn't sure if it was just an illusion, but the girl's breathing seemed to have sped up a notch.

In theory, the fired material should be grinded with gypsum as to adjust its hardening time. But there was no need to think about so much right now. After a short break ,Roland picked up two shovels and called for Carter, who was standing outside the courtyard. Roland told him to mix the gray ash proportionally with the river sand in a ratio of 3 to 1 to prepare cement mortar.

The chief knight did not mind doing menial work. In his opinion, it was much better than fighting or chasing after the noble ladies for His Highness in the Kingdom of Graycastle.

As there was no iron powder in the raw mixture, the resulting paste looked off-white. Roland piled the paste on a brick and placed another brick on top of it. It would usually take around four hours for the cement to become solid. As this was merely a trial run, he decided that it would be best to wait until tomorrow to test the mixture.

The next morning, Roland hurried to the kiln room, bringing Carter and Anna with him. When he opened the door, he noticed that the cement appeared solid and the bricks seemed to have stuck together. The surface of the material seemed rugged and part of it was covered in white frost.

Roland squatted down. It was natural for the alkalization process to result in some white frost. He pressed onto the hardened cement and his heart leaped. The cement was rock solid, completely different from the texture of the solid clay. Even when he pushed into the cement firmly, there was no mark on its surface.

After getting the signal from Prince Roland, Carter first tried to lift the bricks. He then attempted to kick the bricks until they gave way. The cement dislodged from the ground, yet the bricks remained stuck firmly together. He ended up using the hilt of his sword to knock them apart, but he succeeded in only knocking off a small corner of the bricks.

"So this is the effect of the so-called cement." The purpose of the material dawned on Carter. "It's simply incredible. It flowed like wax from a melting candle yesterday, but in just one night it had become as strong as a rock. With this, we can build the wall as fast as we want. As long as we have enough bricks, we could even build a wall around Border Town in less than five years!"

"What's the use of that?" Roland asked. "A tall wall would not be able to stop enemies from within. I'd rather turn the old wooden huts in Border Town into solid cement houses, so my subjects would no longer have to worry about losing their homes in natural disasters."

"..." The chief knight was stunned. He did not expect Prince Roland, who was known for his many aristocratic vices, would suggest such a thing.

"You'll understand it in the future." Roland reaffirmed the path he was taking. For many people who travelled through time, technology was the gate leading to productivity. But here, the witches were their path to the future.

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13 The City Wall

The production of cement went into a rapid development. In order for Anna to have ample amount of rest, the kiln room only operated once every two to three days. Hoping to obtain more raw materials, Roland once again issued a recruitment notice, thus doubling the population of the workers.

However, Roland himself knew that he could not always depend on Anna to do these. Working in a dusty environment for an extensive amount of time would cause people to suffer from Silicosis. Plus, once the production scale was expanded, Anna alone would be much too insufficient for the demand.

Witches should not be utilized as consumables, but instead as the engine to stimulate the development of civilization. Although Roland recognized the fact very well, as of this moment, he could only spend all his efforts in constructing the city wall. After all, nothing could be done if the demonic beasts could not be stopped.

A project was launched to dig the foundation for laying the city wall that connected the North Slope Mountain and Redwater River. As chief manager of this project and in accordance with the routine of the world Roland previously lived in, he dug out the first shovel of dirt amidst a mass of flabbergasted faces in audience.

Roland thought that after solving the cement problem, building a city wall would be effortless. However, when he actually began to do the work, he discovered that he was utterly ignorant in engineering. How deep and wide should the foundation be dug? How to solve the unevenness of the ground? How to ensure a 600-meter-long wall was kept in a straight line after construction? Back then, when the city government was constructing the road, Roland saw a group of young fellas measuring the road with tools and rulers, something called theodolites and leveling instrument, but there was hardly anything like those to be found over here!

As a mechanical blueprinter, although Roland and the next-door civil engineer were known as the ultimate geeks, however, their expertise was much too different. Not only that, none of the recruited bricklayers had ever participated in the construction of a big engineering project. Their capabilities were not even comparable to Roland's. Therefore, progress was extremely slow after the city wall project started. It took a whole week to even dig an incomplete, shallow trench.

Once the engineering project lost control, the final product would be unimaginable. For instance, this shallow trench that they dug with much difficulty looked more like a drainage ditch instead of the foundation for the city wall. Although Roland gestured an estimated width before they started, the width became increasingly narrow as they continued to dig. It even appeared to be a twisted snake if someone looked at it from a distance.

Nevertheless, Roland was reluctant to terminate the project. Based on the mindset that, a gradual progress was better than no progress at all, as long as the kiln room was not in its operating hours, Roland would spend all day at the foot of North Slope Mountain. He would adjust the direction of the pit with his naked eye and slowly push the project forward. At the same time, he also doubled the rewards of the stone craftsmen.

Fortunately, such an awkward period did not last too long. While Roland was in the firing room to direct the firing of the sixth batch of cement, Assistant Minister Barov reported that a stonemason had responded to the recruitment notice. The stonemason claimed that he joined the Mason Guild in the Kingdom of Graycastle for a while and was now waiting outside the hall.

Roland thought about it for a moment and was exhilarated. In his memory, the Mason Guild in the Kingdom of Graycastle was a prominent and pioneering team that even Prince Roland had heard of. Even though the team was ordered to be dismissed due to a construction accident, but how could there be no accidents when you work in the construction industry?

"Bring him in." Roland made a pretense of being composed and nodded. He wanted to tell Anna to leave but changed his mind after a while. Border Town had a population of 2,000 residents and hardly any residents had ever seen the faces of witches. Besides, Anna looked totally different from the girl who previously wanted to commit suicide. Plus, with the peculiar clothing that Anna was wearing, it was unlikely that anyone would recognize her.

Karl Van Bate was upset when the knight brought him into the courtyard. He wanted to first inform his Highness that it was unsuitable to undertake such a big project in this season, and then gradually obtain the trust from His Highness and ultimately change his perspective towards witches. However, according to the rumor, His Highness had always been quite capricious. What if his advice received adverse effect from His Highness?

His heart was shaking when he bowed and saluted to His Highness. While lifting up his head, he stood aghast at the sight—the girl stood next to His Highness looked so familiar, he even had this delusion that he might be dreaming. Karl rubbed his eyes, stared again, and cried out uncontrollably, "...Anna!"

Jesus Christ! What a coincidence? He just randomly hired a craftsman and he hired a neighbor of the witch? Apparently, the craftsman seemed very familiar with Anna. Otherwise, he would not be able to recognize her in an instant. Roland turned his head and looked at Carter Lannis, who immediately understood Roland's thoughts. Carter quickly locked the door, blocking the only exit.

"Professor... Karl?"

Anna's reaction puzzled Roland for a bit. "What? Professor?"

"It's you indeed, Anna, I, I...." Karl felt the warmth in his eye socket, and something started to spill down. He fell on the ground hopelessly, and repeated endlessly, "Sorry, I'm so sorry... I'm so glad... What a blessing..."

After a while, Karl Van Bate finally was able to appease his emotions. He slowly stood up, and again bowed to Roland. "I'm sincerely apologetic Your Highness, I have forgotten my manners."

"What's the matter? Aren't you a stonemason?"

"I used to be," Karl swiftly replied after he released his concerns. His Highness did not execute Anna! It was a surrogate that was hanged on the execution ground—realizing this fact, he already knew what his next move would be. Although he was fuzzy about why His Highness would rescue a witch, nevertheless, even if His Highness intended to take Anna as his lover, that would still be much better than sending her to the gallows. At least it proved that the prince did not fear the rumor that witches were the incarnation of the demon.

He confided his experience of being exiled from Kingdom of Graycastle to Border Town, including incidents such as establishing a local school and finding out that Nana Pine also turned into a witch. At the end, he beseeched His Highness to also hide Nana in the castle, in order to protect Nana from any persecution in case the residents found out her true identity.

Anna, who was standing aside did not speak a word, although she seemed to desperately want to plead for Nana.

"A new witch. What great news! Although the name Pine sounds familiar," Roland thought and called the assistant minister for further inquiry, and he found out that Pine was the last name of a middle-class noble in Border Town.

"You could bring her to see me. If she is truly a witch, I vouch that she'll be safe from any sort of harm." Roland promised. "But I can't take her away from the Pines, especially when she isn't threatened by her family. Besides, the reason that I saved Anna is far different from what you thought..." He pondered for a bit, and decided to tell the truth. "I need her help. Compared to such incredulous tales of demons and evil power, I'm more inclined to believe that the power of witches has nothing to do with good or evil, it can instead be controlled. So, regardless of Anna, Nana, or any other witches, as long as they did not commit any real crime, I'd not consider them as sinful."

"Next, let us talk about some serious issues. Have you ever participated in the construction of the city wall of Kingdom of Graycastle?" The prince brought the subject back to the construction project.

"Yes!" Karl nodded. Even though Prince Roland did not keep Nana as how Karl predicted, saying that His Highness needed the help of witches was also perplexing, however, it was good enough that His Highness promised to protect Nana.

"Very well, I'm planning to build a city wall over the Redwater River and at the foot of North Slope Mountain to block the invasion of demonic beasts. From now on, you're responsible for this project."
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14 The Ability

"Your Highness, how tall and how wide do you plan to build this city wall?" Karl asked.

"At least five meters high, two meters wide, and allowing four people to march forward side by side." Roland subtlely acknowledged that Karl was indeed a professional, first asking about the technical data and then confirming the construction plan.

"Then a trench needs to be dug that's about one man's height in order to stabilize the upper portion of the city wall. Also, if the top of the wall is about two meters wide and the wall is about five meters tall, the width of the lower portion of the wall at least needs to be doubled," Karl promptly replied, "The process of trenching will need huge manpower. Your Highness, if you could provide me with 150 people, I could probably finish the trench before the Months of Demons."

"A gutterway could not possibly block the demonic beasts," Roland said noncommittally.

"That's why, it'll take three years if the upper portion of the city wall is masoned with stones. If it's solely for the purpose of blocking the demonic beasts, then there's no need to build the wall to such a great height. About four meters high would be enough. We can also shrink the width by one-third and the bottom to about two meters. Digging trenches and masonry will proceed simultaneously. Increase the number of workers by 200... that way, I can complete it before next year's Months of Demons.

Karl paused, and then continued, "Pardon me in my frankness, Your Highness, now it's not a good time to undertake the construction. If we don't mason the wall in a timely manner, even if the trench is dug, but after soaking by the rain and snow through the entire winter, it'll lose its original functions. That way, it'll cost more time and manpower to clean and soften the trench, causing the trench to be dug even deeper."

"Assuming we adopt your plan, and build the city wall four meters high and two meters wide. How long will it take to complete the trench?"

"It'll most likely take one and a half months," Karl answered.

"Then let's take this plan. Digging the trench and masonry will proceed simultaneously so that the construction is completed before the Months of Demons." Roland waved his hand and interrupted Karl. "I know your concerns. Look at this first, a new product from the alchemical workshop of Graycastle."

He, of course, did not have time to once again stick the bricks together to show the stonemason. He simply presented the two bricks that he stuck together beforehand. Fortunately, no one dared to question the prince. When Karl heard that an alchemic adhesive, called cement, was able to solidify within one night and produce massive adhesive force, he looked astonished.

Karl, as someone who devoted half of his life to the Mason Guild, naturally recognized how groundbreaking this invention was. Besides adhering stones, most importantly, it would be able to transform into any shape.

Roland judged Karl's expression with satisfaction, and pursued again. "What do you think? Would three months be enough?"

Karl Van Bate replied with a trembling voice, "If what you said is true, no, no, I mean... if the alchemical workshop described this thing truthfully, I, I'm willing to give it a try."

"Very well, I'll have someone write a detailed document for you regarding the usage of cement. You can speak to my assistant minister for any other needs." Roland smiled. "Mr. Karl, now you're a member of the Administrative Office."

Roland saw Nana in the next afternoon. The young girl stared at Anna with some degree of bewilderment. She clutched her clothes and was finally able to compose a sentence. "Have, Have I already died?"

When Roland first met Nana, he had to admit that the power of witches not only bestowed them incredible abilities but also in some degrees, changed their countenance and aura. Nana was a totally different type compared to Anna, but they all had their unique charm. Such feelings had nothing to do with age or lifestyles. Even when Anna was waiting for the coming death in prison, the brilliance that was illuminating from her was not affected at all. Searching through all his memory, Roland did not even encounter this sort of feelings, whether it was the hooker on the streetside of Kingdom of Graycastle or the well-mannered noble mistress. If Roland had to describe it, when he placed witches with those ordinary girls on the same page, it was as if colorful figures appeared on black and white photos.

Karl, who escorted Nana, gracefully excused himself. Now there were only Roland, Anna and Nana left in the palace garden.

"You're alive, and Anna is here, safe and sound." Roland tried to suppress his smiles. "I'm Prince Roland Wimbledon, and you're..."

"I'm Nana Pine." The young girl was back to her usual lively self after she heard that she did not die. Nana rushed straight to Anna, rambling on and on with her, and completely neglected the presence of Roland, the prince of Graycastle. Certainly, Roland would not care to haggle over the impudence of a 14-year-old young girl. He poured himself a glass of ale and started to appreciate the "daily life" of the two witches.

Anna was apparently not accustomed to the overwhelming friendliness from Nana. She occasionally responded while Nana continued her speech. After all, Anna was merely 17-years-old, but she already appeared to be an elder sister. Roland could not help but think how outstanding Anna would become after she became fully grown-up.

When Nana finally slowed her speech, Roland coughed and inquired. "Miss Pine, according to your professor, you have awakened as a witch?"

Compared to the public, who most often referred to the word "fallen" when describing someone that had turned into a witch, Roland believed that "awaken" was a better word choice. He would not naively consider all witches as innocent and pure. Those malicious individuals who obtained power would only beget a catastrophe. This was the same as using a weapon as it can create violence, but also resist violence. The essential aspect was that it all depended on the person who was using the weapon. Perhaps the church's propaganda of the massacres done by witches was based on evidence. However, it was unfair to use that as the proof to treat all witches as guilty.

Nana's expression stiffened and she mumbled in a soft voice, "Are you going to hang me?"

"No, of course not, those individuals who were sent to the gallows were all heinous and despicable villains. You're not one of those, nor is Miss Anna. So don't concern yourself with that."

Nana took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm not sure... Professor said that witches obtain the demonic power after being lured by the demon. But, but I have never seen any demon!"

"When did you find out that you've become different?"

"About a week ago," Nana muttered, "I saw a bird with a broken leg, I really wanted to help it. Then... I felt something come out of my hands."

"What came out of your hands?" Roland questioned, "What happened next?"

"Umm... all of a sudden, it surrounded the little bird like a mass of sticky liquid." Nana tilted her head and recalled. "Then the bird's leg was healed."

"Is her power the healing type?" Roland's heart missed a beat. He was very clear what this kind of power meant. In the days where there was an absence of antibiotics and a lack of advanced medical technology, people died easily from injuries and infections. Although this power might not work to promote the development of civilization, it was meaningful to every individual human.

Roland immediately walked to the door, and demanded the knight to bring a living hen. If he could prove the credibility of her words, perhaps he could change the situation of witches being mercilessly oppressed in Border Town.

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15 Misconceptions

After seeing the knight leave with his orders, Roland returned to the table. "If you can heal small animals, why would you still think that witches are evil?"

"The teacher said that witches can do things ordinary people can't. Sometimes it does not look bad, but this is the devil's ruse in order to lure more people..." The girl's voice lowered, "I... I've never seen the devil, I swear."

"Of course you haven't. That is just one of the church's lies, and your teacher was deceived as well," Roland comforted.

"The church lies?" Nana exclaimed, "Why?"

Roland shook his head and did not explain. Even if he tried to explain, they would still not understand. When civilization had not yet developed to a certain extent, these sort of strange things would always happen. Even without personal gain, people would automatically attribute man-made, natural disasters or any unexplainable phenomenon to the invented culprit behind the scenes—historically speaking, the blame always fell on the women.

And in this world, if witches possessed powers of unknown origin, it was even easier to become the target of the church. The church could allow for the witches to be ordained as saints by saying they were the gifts of God or the witches could be hunted, proclaiming they were the demon's advocates. However, once the former was chosen, monotheism would greatly lose its power—because the appearance of the witches had nothing to do with the church. If churches that believe in other deities also recognised the witches as saints, and everyone was the chosen one, which church's God was the true God?

The prerequisite for the coexistence of polytheism was that the gods were real and could restrict each other. Since Gods did not exist and were only hearsay icons, why should the other party share the world? So any faith would claim that they believed in the true God, and the infidels would have to be eliminated. So they could only choose the latter, to spare no effort in destroying the witches.

This was irrelevant to preference, it was all about gain.

There was a living chicken in the castle's kitchen. It was still kicking and fluttering when the knight carried it by its wings.

The next thing left Nana stunned. Roland pulled out the silver knife, and stabbed the chicken once, the knight held it in place firmly, and he let Nana treat it before he tried a different method and continued... He did this repeatedly.

When the chicken finally died, Roland had a better understanding of Nana's ability.

She could restore the damaged parts, including splits, fractures and bruises. But If the body part was completely missing, for example, after the chicken feet were cut off, she could not regenerate claws. But the broken claws could be connected if she used her ability to make the fracture intact. Finally, she could not reverse life and death. Once the chicken died, her treatment became useless.

Throughout the whole treatment, Roland did not see the "sticky water" that she described. She simply put her hand on the chicken's wound, and then it was healed at a speed visible to the naked eye. After several experiments, Nana did not deplete much energy, at least she did not sweat profusely like Anna.

Only Nana was dissatisfied, as she felt it was too much to treat the chicken like this, so she kept staring at Roland even after the experiments.

"Come on, stop staring and eat something," Roland had to resort to "summon afternoon tea" so as to divert her attention. This move had worked several times on Anna, so he assumed that many girls her age could not resist the temptation of delicious dessert. And truth be told, Nana did not fare any better than the one before her.

After eating the pastries, Roland sent Nana away. Anna asked in confusion, "Why didn't you make her stay? She's like me, we're both witches, right?"

"She still has family members, and they have not realised she is a witch."

"Anna whispered," It's just a matter of time."

"Yes, sooner or later," Roland sighed. "So anyway, the later the better. Do you... miss your father?"

She shook her head, and her eyes were like a calm lake with no ripples. It seemed that the betrayal by her father had left her completely disappointed. But even without any relatives, she still had friends.

"Nana will come often, in fact, I intend to let her come every two days to train her ability."

Hearing this, she blinked her eyes and nodded quickly.

"Do you want to go back to Karl's college with her, and learn from the other kids?"

Anna did not answer, but he felt he heard her thoughts.

"This situation won't last too long... As long as I'm here, you'll eventually live like ordinary people, and not be hunted wherever you are or sent to the gallows. This day will come, "I promise," said Roland firmly.

*******************

Since Karl Van Bate took over the project, Prince Roland immediately became idle.

He stayed in the castle garden every afternoon, practising with Anna or Nana. Now Anna's training no longer required additional clothing, even if each finger was in flames, she could skillfully operate them without lighting up her witch hat by accident.

Nana also put on a set of witch uniform. Although she was reluctant to practice, for the sake of afternoon tea, she still poutingly did so. Watching the two witches dangling in the yard, Roland's wicked humour was greatly satisfied.

Occasionally he would go to the foot of North Slope mountain to check on the progress of the project. After more than two weeks of construction, about 100 meters of the city wall had been built. In the absence of the theodolite distance measurement, Karl asked the craftsmen to use a piece of wood at the same time every day, according to the shadow of the sun, to determine the distance and flatness. At a distance of every ten wood markers, a viewing tower was set up to play a role in stabilizing the city wall.

Such large-scale employment naturally caught the attention of the town's nobility. However, other than getting some information from Barov, they made no further movement, as if the situation had nothing to do with them. Roland did not mind this. These people's family businesses were in Longsong Stronghold and would certainly not stay here to help him guard Border Town. He could even imagine the gang of people ridiculing his attempts in private.

Not just the nobility, but businessmen were the same. In previous years in Border Town, once animal fur traders realised nothing could be purchased, they also returned to Stronghold. They naturally vented their discontent about returning empty-handed, on the ruler Roland. The news about Kingdom of Graycastle's Prince Roland Wimbledon's construction before the arrival of Months of Demons, was deemed as simply stupid and ignorant. News of this spread along the Redwater River.

At this point, no one thought he could protect the town, and in fact, most people simply did not consider this a remote possibility. After all, Prince Roland did not give the impression of being a courageous fighter. Whatever he was contemplating, he would eventually have to obediently retreat to Stronghold.

And just like this, amidst discussion by the masses, Roland ushered in the first winter.

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16 The Road Ahead

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, chasing away the chill coming in from the door and window gaps. Atop of the fireplace hung a huge horned deer head, and under the shadows, the horns looked like huge claws.

Opposite was a dark red long wooden table, filled with parchment rolls and books, mostly executive orders waiting to be signed. Roland usually came here to deal with official matters—after converting the third level of the castle into an office, he gradually started to like it here.

Through the French window behind him, he could see the town extending into endless mountains. The mountain passed through the continents of the Impassable Mountain Range, dividing Kingdom of Graycastle and Wild Places into east and west. And North Slope Mountain was just a branch of the Impassable Mountain Range.

At the foot, you could see the garden surrounded by the wooden fence. The wooden shed built for Anna's training had been removed, and the brick pool was made into a long table for afternoon tea. When the weather was good, he would also go downstairs for a suntan, or lie on a specially tailored rocking chair to take a nap.

Although the castle was not big, at least it was still considered a villa with an independent garden. In his previous life, it would have been almost impossible to own a real stone castle. He would have had to pay for tickets just to have a visit. But now, he not only owned the castle, but also the town.

"Your Highness, recently you've had a lot of expenses from recruiting the craftsmen and the manual laborers. If we continue such expense, we won't be able to last until next spring." Barov held a pile of parchment while reporting the recent financial situation to Roland.

The original income and expenditure of Border Town was very simple. One line was ore in the precious stones trade. This line was monopolized by Longsong Stronghold, turning North Slope Mine's output into wheat or bread, with no tax in the middle, and Stronghold sent people to host the exchange of resources. As the saying goes, those nobles stationed in Border Town can be seen as regulators of the shareholders, and their fiefs are mostly in the east of Stronghold, where they are only temporary and different people are dispatched each year.

In fact, the history of Border Town was less than three decades long. Compared to nearly 200 years of Longsong Stronghold, it was a mere newborn baby. Originally Duke of Ryan was just going to build an outpost here as an early warning for the invasion of demonic beasts, but he did not expect to discover a wealth of mineral resources at North Slope Mountain after land reclamation. So he decided to set up the town here, and named it Border Town. In a sense, it was North Slope Mine that created the town.

In order to prevent theft and cover-ups, the duke did not employ the noblemen, but instead employed local residents, refugees and even criminals to serve as miners. The output of ore was evenly distributed according to the resources allocated by the investors. Longsong Stronghold only needed to provide the employers with a full year of grain and a small commission, which was a fixed amount regardless of the output of the mine. Border Town had more than two thousand residents and half of them worked for the mining area.

The rest, was the other industries in the town, such as blacksmith shops, pubs, textiles and so on. The meager tax of Border town came mainly from here, and not much was left at year's end. The previous lord did not take this barren land seriously. After Roland was sent by Kingdom of Graycastle, he simply stayed in Longsong Stronghold and did not come back.

Therefore, Roland could only pay people to repair the wall with his own money. If it was the previous Prince Roland, this would have been out of the question. But for Roland, as long as he could stabilize Border Town, he would not mind investing his whole property. Anyway, in the future, ore trade would no longer be bartered with food. If it used currency, then his investment would be just a small price to pay.

The only problem was Longsong Stronghold was not willing to give up the monopoly, and continued normal trade with Border Town—this was quite like snatching food from the tiger's jaws, but Barov's data showed inefficient manpower and transport hurdles. The annual value output of the ore was no more than a thousand pieces of gold royals. Compared to the entire revenue of Longsong Stronghold, it was but a drop in the ocean. The only loss was that of the nobles.

For the long-term development of Border Town, this line had to be recovered. Roland knew very well, that even if their investment was fully recovered ten years ago, the nobles would not easily let go. Even if this was a small piece of meat, yet this was a passive income without doing anything. He was willing to give the previous investors a certain amount of concessions and compensation, such as half-price purchase and the like. But dragging a ship of ore back in exchange for just half a boat of food was not allowed to happen again.

As Roland stared at the list, Barov was also watching him intently.

Over these three months, well to be exact in the last month, Prince Roland underwent some unspeakable changes. Outsiders might not notice, but he was with the prince every day, and the change could not escape his eyes.

At the Kingdom of Graycastle, he had already heard of Prince Roland Wimbledon's notoriety. He did what he liked, wantonly and without caring about noble manners. In short, he did not make grave mistakes, but he made numerous errors and was far worse than his two brothers.

When Barov was sent by His Majesty to come here, he was very disappointed. If not for the fact His Majesty promised to appoint him as the official Treasurer after the struggles of the throne ended, he would have given up ages ago.

In the first two months at Border Town, Prince Roland showed his usual extreme childish behavior, and offended almost all the local nobles. Fortunately, the town was very small, even if all the administrative staff vacated, he could easily fill their posts with the dozen civilian staff he brought.

And then, things started to change.

When did the change begin? He thought, probably... after he saved the witch.

Barov had considered that Roland was possessed by the demon, or maybe he was controlled by another witch. But this was a slim possibility. If demons and witches had such ability, would they look for Prince Roland? Wouldn't it make more sense to control His Majesty or the pope? What further dispelled his suspicions was the fact that he saw the prince hold God's Locket of Retribution.

This was the church's weapon to deal with witches. Any demon would collapse in front of the God's Locket of Retribution. Yet Roland held it directly. In other words, if he was not Prince Roland but a devil that did not even fear the divine power, then would it be necessary to expose him? Saving one's life was the most important thing.

The prince continued with his notorious behavior, but he left a different impression on Barov. No, Barov thought, the two had clearly opposing behaviors.

The biggest difference was in motive. He could feel Roland was planning something. In order to achieve his purpose, he had to use some inexplicable means. Just like how Roland tried to persuade himself to save a witch, the plan may not be mature and have loopholes, but the prince was indeed moving forward with his plan, and was confident about the results.

This was the most puzzling thing. The throne could be taken by any one of Roland's siblings, but definitely not the prince himself. He would have been clear about this fact. Talking about development in this small place, Border Town? Even the gods could not do it! What crazy plan was Roland making, trying to develop a border town to be more successful than Valencia? Even convincing himself that it would work?

If it was just a crazy fantasy, that would be fine, but Roland's construction of the walls proved otherwise. He really intended to be stationed here, relying on a type of alchemy product--"cement", to build a wall that was impossible to complete.

Barov's family had an alchemist, but he had never heard of alchemists creating such a thing. To build a wall based on what had never been seen, was this self-confidence or imagination? What else was Prince Roland concealing? He found himself starting to have a faint interest in the future.

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17 The Ambassador Part I

"This place is just as lousy as it used to be," said Petrov, the ambassador from the Stronghold, as he stepped out of the cabin and was immediately hit by the stench of rotten wood. Sinking in the moist and dull atmosphere that discomforted him from head to feet, he sniffed and looked up to the sky where the clouds were gathering. They were a sign of heavy rain that drew near.

"It's been a year since your last visit," said the assistant as he wrapped his boss in a wool coat. "There is nothing here except stones."

"It's been one and a half years," stated Petrov. "Every season the Lord Duke sends a different person here and the last time I came here was in summer. Apart from stones, there were other kinds of things here like fine furs and… "

"What?" the assistant said with a dazed look.

Petrov shook his head and said no more. When he crossed the board and set foot on the moss-covered wooden dock, the planks he stepped on were creaking so loudly that it made him believe it would only be a few years before the whole dock shattered into pieces. Yes, in addition to stone and fur, it was the land of Border Town that could not be underestimated. But a common assistant who only dealt with papers and numbers was not open-minded enough to understand.

The land between Border Town and Longsong Stronghold was untouched and squeezed into a narrow channel, caged on each side by the Impassable Mountain Range and the Redwater River. If it was Border Town that worked as an outpost and took the duty as a defensive line, the Stronghold would easily possess the untouched land, and farm it constantly. And with the natural barrier guarding it on both sides, managing it would be simple. The food harvested from the land would feed the rising population in the Stronghold, and Border Town would become part of the Stronghold rather than staying independent.

The only disadvantage was that the operation would be expensive and would take three to five years.

What a shame, when it came to investment, most nobles were no better than a poor businessman.

"Why is there no ore in the storage yard?" Pointing toward the clearing, the assistant said, "Shouldn't they stack the ore before we arrive?"

Petrov sighed softly. "We should pay our respects to His Highness."

"Wait… Mr. Ambassador, why not wait for their welcome party?" the assistant suggested.

Petrov was unsure if there would even be one, so instead he stated, "Let's go, the stables are just in front of us."

This illustrated the difficulties with having the two lands independent. When the king sent out Prince Roland in the name of the Royal Decree on the Selection of the Crown Prince, how would a loyal young man behave? Surely he would sweep everything under his wings, and as such, it was hardly possible that he would trade ores and gemstones for food and bread. He feared that gold royals would be all that the prince held dear.

He would do the same under such circumstance because no one would tolerate when all that they've reaped from the land was exchanged at such a low price. It seems that many people have forgotten that Longsong Stronghold is not merely a station run through Redwater River. Beyond it also exist many other places, like Willow Town, Fallen Dragon Ridge, and Redwater City, where he could sell minerals at market price, and he could take the refugees. They were only a little further than Longsong Stronghold.

And then what would Longsong Stronghold do? Bar the river and block the prince's procession? No, to do so would be treason. Even if it was a well-known fact that Prince Roland did not earn much favor from his father, the loyal name and blood could not be ignored.

There were no better horses in the stable other than the old ones. They were weak and skinny with scruffy fur that left them trembling all over as they trotted slowly. The ambassador had no choice but to pay two gold royals as a pledge for two shabby horses, which carried them slowly on the flagstones along the river.

"Look! Sir, is that a cargo boat from Willow Town?"

The assistant called out, causing him to turn his eyes to where his assistant was pointing. Slowly, there came a sailing boat with one mast and a banner bearing a green leaf and scimitar hanging over it. It's high waterline meant that the boat was full of cargo.

Nodding his head and keeping a poker face, Petrov hid the very real concern that was triggered by what he had seen. He had not expected Prince Roland to act so early. "If Prince Roland has begun to trade with the towns downstream of the Redwater River, then the advantage he has is shifting. He had intended to persuade his father to agree on acquiring ore at 30% less than the market price. And at any rate, there are gemstones that will be crafted into many valuable luxuries. However, this issue is under a monopoly, and is not for him to decide. Even the Honeysuckle Family as a whole cannot make a decision unless all six noble families agree."

But they seemed unaware of what had been changed as time had gone by, and barely had any response… Or maybe the production in the mine was too low to draw their attention. It ended up that the other five families remained indifferent and his own father, looking so sure of himself, rejected his advice. But all of them had made a huge mistake since the low production of the mine, caused by the trade-off based on materials and food, could easily be transformed into a much greater amount when the exchange became normal and the ore was bought at a fair price. With this, the more Border Town sold, the more money they would earn, resulting in an increase in ore the following year.

But with this, Petrov thought the monopoly on ore that he had hoped for would be unlikely to realize. From the view of the empty storage yard on the dock, it seemed that the prince had no plan of trading his stones for inferior wheat, as he had already summoned other buyers.

Thirty percent off would be his last bargaining chip if he still wanted to maintain business with Border Town. Willow Town would offer as much as half off the market price since the long waterway between the two towns would add transportation costs and they also had more than one source of minerals. The prices offered by Fallen Dragon Ridge and Redwater City would be even lower. As a result, Prince Roland may continue his business with the Stronghold, especially for gemstones.

But the problem was whether his father would agree on the contract that he decided to sign. What if the other families thought that the contract was a sign of surrender and handing over family interests?

After all, they always treated Border Town as a sub-area of the Stronghold and a supplier for whatever they needed.

They rode slowly to the gate of the castle that was standing in the southeast corner of the town, whose lord had changed since his last visit.

The guards saw the ambassador's voucher and immediately went to inform the lord.

Prince Roland then quickly sent for Petrov. When both of them arrived at the hall, the Prince was seated and waiting.

"Mr. Ambassador, please take a seat."

Roland clapped his hands, and the maids brought forward a scrumptious looking meal. It included an entire roast chicken, boar trotter stewed with mushrooms, buttered bread, and a huge portion of vegetable soup. It looked like, whether in the border or not, whatever a prince wanted, he got it.

Petrov naturally could not hold back. It took two days from the Stronghold to Border Town with good winds. If he traveled on a freighter with multiple masts, then it would move even slower and take three to five days. There was no kitchen on the boat and they would usually eat their own dried meat or wheat cake. Seeing the hot churning dishes, his mouth and throat filled with saliva.

But the courtesy that he had been trained since his youth helped him keep his decent manners at the table. In comparison, the prince paid little attention to his own manners, especially with using a knife and fork. Petrov noticed that he used a pair of little sticks to pick up the food, and only used the knife and fork to cut the meat. The little sticks looked... handier than a fork.

"What do you think?" Roland suddenly asked when the dinner was about to end.

"Of... what?" The ambassador was lost.

"These." The Prince shook the sticks in his hand and went on without waiting for Petrov's reply. "A knife and fork seem beyond most commoner's means, not to mention they are made from silver. However, a man who grabs food with his bare hands could easily take in much filth and become ill. Do you follow?"

The ambassador did not know what to say as he barely understood the question. Maybe, he guessed, that the filth attached to the food that we eat could make us vulnerable to sickness. But how could that be true? People have eaten with their hands for a long time, and no one has died from such a thing.

"There are numerous pairs of oak sticks in Misty Forest, and they are both clean and accessible. This means that the common people should use them to grab the food, instead of using their hands." Prince Roland sipped some of his drink and said, "Of course, for now, meat seems a little far from their real life, but things will change."

Petrov was relieved, as this was not a hard topic for him. He routinely expressed his approval and blessing, but in his heart he disapproved. Let the common subjects eat meat? It was simply whimsical. Even in Graycastle they are far from this point, not to mention in Border Town of this desolate land.

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18 The Ambassador Part II

Petrov tossed aside his complaints and enjoyed the feast.

Under the harmonious atmosphere during the dinner, Prince Roland did not talk about the ore, so Petrov thought it was inconvenient to speak anymore.

When the prince told the maid to serve the dessert, Petrov tentatively said, "Your Highness, according to the previous practice, today should be the day when the ores are delivered. However, I didn't see any on the dockyard."

Roland put down the sticks in his hand and nodded. "Unfortunately, the Northern Slope mine collapsed a few days ago. My people have been trying to resume production this month. However, the gravel from the collapse has not yet been cleared up. If we go by the schedule, we can't start mining until the start of next year."

"A collapse?" Petrov was stunned for a moment. "Was it an excuse?" But he soon realized that it was unnecessary for Roland to deceive him. Otherwise, it would be clear if he went to Northern Slope, and it would show on his face if the prince told such an obvious lie.

"Then... what about the ore from the past two months?"

"Not many are left. According to the normal practice, there aren't enough to support the livelihood of my subjects." Roland emphasized the words "according to the normal practice". He continued, "Mr. Ambassador, you remember the Months of Demons two years ago, don't you?"

Of course Petrov remembered that. The cold lasted four months and nearly one fifth of the people in Border Town starved to death due to the greed of Municipal Administrative Governor Reynolds. There was also opposition brewing among the nobles. Some even demanded Reynolds to be penalized. But this incident finally resulted in zero consequences for him, simply for the fact that he was the husband of the duke's second daughter.

Now that the prince brought up this issue, Petrov had a bad feeling.

"It's worse," said Roland with a sigh. "I'm afraid we only have enough for two months if we trade wheat the way we used to. My people can't survive winter with so little food. The ways of the past must be abolished."

Petrov opened his mouth, but did not know how to refute the prince's words. He wasn't a professional diplomat, and hearing such good reason, he had no choice but to pause. "Your Highness, I'm sorry about this. The tragedy will never happen. I'll persuade the six big families to lend you food for a month. Your people can return them next year when the production is resumed."

"If I sold the ore to Willow Town, I won't need to repay the food so slowly."

"But..."

"There's no 'but'." Roland interrupted. "They're willing to buy ore with gold royals and sell their wheat, cheese, bread, and honey at market prices... They can sell anything that can be bought with gold royals. Not to mention, Mr. Ambassador, even if you're willing to lend us one month's worth of food, would the other five families agree with your decision? As far as I know, it's not easy to reach an agreement with Duke Ryan."

Petrov fell into silence. Prince Roland was right. He was not confident in persuading his father, least of all the other five big families. To maintain their monopoly, they must change the trading scheme. But he simply had no right to give the final word. He held the title of an ambassador, but he was nothing more than a mouthpiece in reality. Perhaps the duke did not want anyone to make private agreements with Border Town. The current agreement withstood, whether it was with the former lord or with Prince Roland. That was why the duke assigned different candidates every season and they were never the ones in charge of their families.

Regardless of the outcome, he had to give it a try. With such resolution, Petrov showed the last of his cards. "30%." He stretched out three fingers. "The Stronghold will buy the ore and gemstones at a price 30% lower than the market price. I think our offer should be higher than that of Willow Town, Your Highness."

Roland threw up his hands and said, "The old question remains. Can you make that decision for the six families?"

"I'll go back to Longsong Stronghold tomorrow. I'll come up with a new contract after reaching an agreement."

"But my people can't wait that long. You should know that it often takes forever for nobles to reach an agreement."

"Your Highness, working with Longsong Stronghold is the better choice for you and your people. Willow Town is too far away, and even though you could go there during the Months of Demons," Petrov said and felt his throat became dry, "the journey... is dangerous."

"Good God! What am I doing?" His heart was pounding. "Am I threatening a prince?"

"Hahaha." Roland unexpectedly did not fly into a rage, but laughed instead. "Mr. Ambassador, you seem to have made some mistakes. I haven't thought of going to Willow Town."

"You mean…"

"Of course, I don't intend to go to Longsong Stronghold either." Roland looked at the ambassador with interest. "I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment, Petrov suspected that he misheard the prince.

Fortunately, the prince broke the silence and explained himself. "I'm staying in Border Town this winter. Border Town will become the new border of the Kingdom of Graycastle. Don't be surprised, my friend, this is not me saying nonsense. I'll take you to the new wall at the foot of North Slope Mountain for a visit."

"City... wall?"

"Yes, the city wall is a stone wall of about four meters high and two meters wide, connecting Northern Slope and the Redwater River. With the wall, we can fight off the demonic beasts in Border Town."

Petrov felt his brain was not working. The former ambassador had not mentioned any city wall. Back then, the Lord of Border Town was from Longsong Stronghold. How could he send the limited manpower he had to build the wall? In other words, did Prince Roland began building the walls as soon as he arrived? Even so, it had been only three months. How could they have built something like that in such a short time?

"Wait a minute... What did his Highness say? Is it about four meters high and two meters wide, connecting Northern Slope and the Redwater River?" Petrov calculated in his mind. "It would take years to build such a wall! Firstly, he did not have enough masons to cut and grind the stones! Border Town was not like Graycastle, and most people who lived here were poor laborers."

He had yet to digest the news when Roland's next words shocked him again.

"As for the sales of the ore, I can slash the price by half from next year, my good sir. But I won't sell all of them to Longsong Stronghold, for you won't need so much ore. I think, compared to the low profits the ores make, you'll prefer metal products like spades, shovels, and things like those." He paused for a moment, seeming to wait for Petrov to absorb his words. "As for the raw gemstones, they'll be sold to the highest bidder through an auction. I'd like to sell them at a good price after the gem is cut, but unfortunately no one in Border Town has that ability."

"Do you even have the ability to build a city wall in a few months?!" Petrov screamed from the bottom of his heart. "And what did he meant by saying the Stronghold not needing so many ores? Besides, it already took a whole year for them to produce 1,000 gold royals . Even if there will be an increase in the production, it'll be doubled at best! Was he saying that the Stronghold can't even take in ores worth of 2,000 gold royals? That was too presumptuous of him!"

He tried hard to suppress his frustration and maintained the last of his etiquette. "Your Highness, I've memorized everything you said. I'll return immediately and negotiate with the six families. But there's one last thing. The city wall you speak of... I want to go and have a look."

"Of course." Roland smiled. "You don't need to be in such a rush. Enjoy the pastries of King's City first. It's not too late to go then, right? Mr. Ambassador?"

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19 The Lecture

The winter's first rainfall finally arrived, lasting for two days.

Roland leaned against his working desk and looked out at the hazy town in rain through the window. The wind brought a shower of rain against the window, causing bursts of ripples. The town's silhouetted outline became distorted through the ripples. The houses and the extensions of the streets seemed bent and deformed, in contrast with their tidy look in the past. Due to the lack of effective drainage measures, the crisscrossed flagstone pavement became overflowing with accumulated water. From afar, the water on the road looked like many little crystalline brooks.

The distant mountains and forests were covered with mist, looming and changing like a lost world on earth.

If in modern times, such a landscape would certainly be a tourist attraction, but what Roland wished to see was a jungle made of concrete and steel. Because of the rain, the city wall construction also had to stop. This fact affected his mood and made his previous delight in successfully "discouraging" the stronghold messenger the day before yesterday fade away.

"You just said the air around us is made up of lots of different gases, is that true?"

Anna's clear voice interrupted Roland's thoughts, while she looked at him curiously, blinking her beautiful blue eyes.

"Ahem, Miss Anna, you should address His Highness with honorifics," warned the chief knight next to her.

"Don't make a fuss about it." Roland turned around, "She's now my student." Since it was raining and they had not much business, he called Carter and the two witches to attend his class—yes, he had decided to give a small lecture on natural science. He was inspired by Stonemason Karl's college. If a mason could open a school, then a mechanical engineer like himself could open one too. Why did discrimination exist? Was not it because of ignorance? During any period of history, universal education was the most effective way to promote the development of civilization.

He originally wanted the assistant minister to attend the class too, but the latter was too busy with other administrative tasks and politely declined his offer. Roland did not know why, but since the beginning of the winter, Barov seemed to be overzealous and took charge of all the daily management of Border Town all alone.

At the prospect of gaining new knowledge, Anna's eyes immediately sparkled with curiosity. Nana also became happy for she did not need to treat any wounded animals. As for Carter, since he had nothing special to do, he attended the class to see what new nonsense the prince had thought of.

But not long after the class had begun, the knight's eyes became drowsy. Nana also had a bewildered look, her eyes staring at the words "Natural Science". It seemed that Anna had only grasped the general idea trying hard to remember everything she had heard. Roland could not help but stop the lecture for a moment, letting the three of them contemplate on his lecture.

As for Anna's question, he smiled and nodded. "Of course, even though they look alike."

"Your Highness, I don't understand, since they all look the same, how can you tell that they're different gases?" Carter expressed his doubts.

"I can prove it to you"

Roland knew that using only words, most of the people would be confounded by listening to these theories. He decided to make them interested by showing them the example of a simple experiment.

A candle, a glass, a wooden basin, a bowl of clear limewater—he had prepared these things in advance. Although at this time they only had pale brown glass, which was far less transparent than normal glass, it could still serve the purpose of the experiment. After all, there was no need to observe the modification process during this simple experiment.

Roland had done the experiment beforehand, and the results showed that although magic existed in this world, the rules of nature were still the same as on earth. He let Anna light the candle and put it in the basin.

"The process of burning requires a specific gas. This gas is also related to all life. If we stop breathing it, we'll be like this candle. Take a look." Roland put the glass on the candle, and after the flame shook a few times, it soon went out.

"It exhausted the air, Your Highness, this is not surprising," the chief knight said disapprovingly, "Of course we'll die without air, for example, if we fall into the water."

Nana nodded repeatedly.

"So, do you think that there's nothing in the glass anymore?" Roland asked and then poured the limewater into the basin. The waterline rose quickly and stopped rising when half of the glass was filled.

This was a classic experiment, often used by most elementary school teachers to arouse children's interest in natural science. Until today, Roland still remembered the shock he felt when his teacher had demonstrated it. It was at that moment that he embarked on the road of science and engineering without looking back.

He gently lifted a corner of the glass, and instantly bubbles of air could be seen rising out of the limewater.

Then, the clear limewater appeared to be a little bit cloudy, and some white particles slowly spread within the glass.

"If there was nothing in the glass, we wouldn't see any bubbles or changes on the water surface. This proves that the air contains at least two different kinds of gases. In reality, burning a candle consumes only a part of the air, while the other part doesn't take part in the burning process. ''Though they are both colorless and odorless, their nature is the complete opposite.''

"Well… That seems to be the case." Carter thought for a long time before figuring out the relationship between the two. "But what's the use for knowing this?"

"If we can obtain the former gas, then we can let the flame burn longer, and if we obtain the other gas, we can quickly extinguish the flame!" Anna suddenly said.

"What a genius!" Roland praised her silently. Even though she made a small error, she had shown herself to be a genius by suggesting separation and purification of gases before use. She had not received any systematic modern education, but yet she could quickly think of this point. This showed that her logical skills were far beyond those of normal people—at least far better than those of his chief knight.

"Correct, since the time humans learned to use fire, they were separated from the animals. Perhaps it all started as a coincidence, a lightning that hit a tree and lit it up, or a spark generated between two rocks. But if no one had noticed it and tried using it, we would still be the same as animals," Roland replied patiently, "The goal of this experiment is to show you that curiosity and thinking are the driving forces for human progress. There are many similar forces hidden in nature, waiting for us to discover and use them."

After he finished, Carter still had a doubtful look while Nana was staring at Roland with open eyes, amazed but unable to comprehend what he meant. Only Anna gazed down as if she was thinking about something.

Well, Roland sighed that, indeed, teaching advanced theories would not bring enlightenment, and it would only make people confused. Their intellectual level determined that they would not be able to understand the significance of these forces unless they saw it with their own eyes. Only then they would understand how amazing the hidden forces in nature were.

At this moment, the kettle hanging from the mantel gave off a clanging sound—the sound of the steam hitting against the lid.

"Ah, the water is boiled." The knight walked over to remove the kettle with a fork, and soon the sound stopped. He wrapped a piece of cloth around the handle, and then filled everyone's cups with water.

[Take this for example.] Roland reached out for the cup and felt the temperature of the handle. [From the discovery of fire, the principle of boiling water became a reality. Numerous people had witnessed "Boiling water" and used it, but no one thought that the gently curling and rising water vapor could also contain such a tremendous amount of energy.]

[In a few hundred years, it would become the driving force behind humankind's development, and it would quickly change the history of mankind. Although the principle was simple, due to limited technology, it would not be the first choice when it came to farming. But this world was different,] he thought, [there are witches here. Using magic to fight wars was the way of barbarians… Instead, applying magic to create and to replace some of the key technologies to make civilization develop faster was the correct way to use magic.

They chatted until the sunset, and after having dinner together, Roland went to his bedroom.

There was no nightlife in that era, and most people went to bed early if they did not make love. He had previously considered taking advantage of his position as a prince and calling a maid to do some physical activities. But in the end, he was too embarrassed to do it.

Right after he lit the candle in his room, he heard the sound of applause behind him, and then someone spoke, "It was a spectacular lecture. I didn't expect Your Highness was actually a learned man."

It was the voice of an unknown woman. Roland instantly felt cold sweat on his forehead. If she could and would suddenly appear like this in his room without giving him notice, what else could she be if not an assassin?! He immediately ran towards the door, but before he could reach the doorknob, he felt a cold wind blowing next to his ear. When he was back to his senses, he found a silver dagger firmly logged into the door, with only a finger's width to his cheek.

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20 Nightingale

Chapter 20 Nightingale

“Please don’t be impulsive, Your Highness, I don’t mean to hurt you, I just came here to talk with you.”

Heck, was this a way to tell people you want to talk with them? Roland swallowed his fear and slowly turned around. Under the threat of a dagger, he could only give way to the pressure and do what the other side wanted.

In the light of the dim candlelight, Roland could see the other – she was sitting on his bed, her body hidden under a robe and her head covered with a hood, so he could not see her real appearance. Her shadow which was thrown by the candlelight occupied more than half of the wall behind her.

“Who are you?”

“I do not have a name, but my sisters call me Nightingale.” She stood up and straightened out her robe, then she squatted down on one knee, and unexpectedly gave a standard noble bow, “First of all, I’m here to express my gratitude to you Roland Wimbledon, Your Highness.”

Show your gratitude? Roland noticed that some lines of her gown, due to the firelight, gave off a unique flash; they formed a pattern of three parallel triangles with an eye in the middle triangle… it seemed he had already seen it.

” The pattern on top of the coin… It is the Eye of the Holy Mountain, which is the insignia of the Witch Cooperation Association.”

In his mind, Barov’s words appeared once again, “You’re… a witch!?”

“Ha ha ha!” she issued a series of light laughter, “Your Highness is really knowledgeable.”

Hearing the other side reveal their identity, Roland breathed a sigh of relief, she was not an assassin sent by his brothers and sisters, “Why has a witch like you come to this remote town in the Northern Mountain area? I do not know where you heard the news from, but your ability to arrive is too slow. If I really wanted to hang her, she would have been dead long ago. “

“I know. And if you had really done it, I would never talk with you…” Nightingale sat back on his bed, “The Witch Cooperation Association does not like to intervene in world affairs, especially with things related to the kingship. Honestly, for a witch to kill a prince, it would not be such hard work, but I want to honor the Witch Cooperation Association. However, if you leave a bad second impression I can still kill you.”

This was a hanging threat. Roland tried to ease the mood, “The witch, she is alive and well.”

“I know that, and in addition to her, there is another little girl.” she nodded, “I came to this place a week ago, but I did not show myself to you. But I have seen everything you have done. Although I do not quite understand why you are not showing the usual malice against witches, no matter what, on behalf of the Witch Cooperation Association I have to thank you. “

“Since a week ago…” Roland rubbed his forehead, but also “everything he had done was seen by her?” This implied that she was always following him, but he and his guards were completely unaware of her? “Well stop, saying that you wanted to talk to with me wasn’t only for saying ‘thank you’, right?”

“Are you already tired of talking with me?” asked Nightingale while taking off her hood, “See, I do not look that awful, I will not scare you away, Your Highness.”

She was far more than ‘not that awful’, you could simply only call her beautiful. As her hood fell, her golden hair instantly cascaded down like a waterfall; the candlelight reflected by her hair made him feel dizzy; with her aquiline nose and her sparkling eyes, instead of Anna’s and Nana’s slightly childlike look, her features revealed a more mature charm. In this dim light, he could not take a close look, but her well-proportioned facial features were sufficient proof of her beauty.

Step by step Roland slowly went over to her, and in the end they were sitting on the bed side by side. Not because he was attracted to her, that would be even dangerous, no, he just simply felt that the other side had no malicious intent.

“Now you can talk.”

“Sure enough, you’re not afraid of me.” Nightingale’s voice sounded a little happy, “You and I have already seen those people who react differently… They hate us because they are afraid of us. I can see the fear in their eyes but in you… “She couldn’t help herself, she had to reach out and gently stroke his cheek, “Roland, I only see curiosity. “

Roland embarrassedly coughed twice, and then moved his head away from her hand. Hey, don’t change the atmosphere so much, just a moment ago you were still an assassin, how can you so suddenly completely change your style?

Fortunately, the other quickly restrained her emotions, “I came here to tell you that I want to take Anna and Nana with me.”

“No!” Roland became frightened, and impulsively responded. Then he was worried that if he refused her altogether, she would be annoyed, so he added, “They have a very good life here, no one can hurt them. Besides, where do you want to take them? There is no other place safer than here. “

“I will take them to the Witch Cooperation Association. After all, their home is there,” despite Roland’s denial Nightingale didn’t got angry, instead she still continued to talk with him in a calm tone, “The other members of the Witch Cooperation Association are their companions, and there will be no discrimination or persecution, and they… no longer need to disguise themselves.”

“You and the Witch Cooperation Association don’t have a fixed home? A month ago, my guards discovered your hiding camp in the forest. They found footprints leading to the north… But in the north, there are only the endless mountains! “

“You’re right, the Witch Cooperation Association is hiding somewhere in the mountains, for us witches it is absolutely safe there.”

“Like a wild man living in the mountains during the winter, in the end where would you be safe? Do you have clean water? Do you have enough food? Is there a warm shelter? And the Months of the Demons is coming, the entire north-west will become a dangerous place, in the end what – “here Roland suddenly paused, what was is it again, what had Barov said? “only at the Holy Mountain can a witch obtain real peace. The purpose of the Witch Cooperation Association is to find the Holy Mountain together.” To hell with it, don’t do that… “Are you going into the impassable mountain range in search of the Holy Mountain?”

“I am afraid that I can’t give you an answer,” Nightingale smiled, but her look clearly told Roland that he had guessed correctly.

“If so, I will never agree.” Roland flatly overruled their plan, “It is only two months until the entire outside world is full of demonic beasts, even when you can avoid the humans in the mountains, you cannot hide yourself from the demonic beasts. How about this idea, instead of looking for the Holy Mountain during the winter, you all come to Border Town to get through the winter, and when winter has ended you all can try to find Holy Mountain again. “

This time it was Nightingale’s turn to be stunned, “The Witch Cooperation Association should be moved here? You… really are an interesting person,” for a moment she thought over it, but in the end, she still shook her head, “Your Highness, even if you are not afraid of us witches, you can’t guarantee it for your people. I’m afraid once we are exposed to the eyes of everyone, the Church’s minions will soon come to knock on your door. “

As long as the witches can help us smoothly get through the Months of the Demons, they will realize that the witches are not the evil ones. Just before Roland could open his mouth to speak, he was stopped by Nightingale, “In addition, there is another reason why I want to take the girls away, Anna will soon turn into an adult.”

“Adulthood?”

“Yes,” it seemed that she could see the doubt in Roland’s mind, so Nightingale calmly explained, “Adulthood is the first hurdle all witches need to cross, the later they cross this hurdle, the harder it becomes to bear. Generally, people usually turn into witches at a younger age than Anna. Your Highness, do you know why we can be regarded as the devil incarnate?”
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21 I“m Not Going Anywhere

When Nightingale finished, the room returned to silence, only with the occasional crackle of candle flame.

Roland had a serious look on his face, for he finally understood what the witches were.

Most of the witches' awakenings occurred during the Months of Demons, and it was on that day that the Gates of Hell were opened. Generally, the time when witches reached adulthood was a dividing line. If a girl had not yet awakened by her 18th birthday, then it was unlikely she would become a witch. However, the one who awoke before her 18th birthday would suffer the Demonic Torture on her awakening day every year thenceforth.

It seemed that the pain was hard to understand by normal people. As Nightingale spoke about this part, her voice trembled. According to her personal experience, it was like something was trying to escape from you. Each blood vessel and tendon was in distending pain. In the end, blood would seep through your skin and eyeballs would protrude out...

If you could survive, the body would slowly recover after four or five days of rest, or you would die in this torture miserably.

Nightingale had witnessed the deaths of many companions. Their body lost the energy to support the power and turned into a mass of bulging meatball. Blood mixed with viscera burst out of the body's holes, and then the air turned into black mist. Spray after spray would continue until nothing was left but sections of scarred flesh.

It was why witches were regarded as the embodiment of demons.

Ordinary people were terrified when seeing it, and who would care what caused the death? Plus the church added fuel to the fire, claiming that this was what would happen to demons. Over time, the witches became the spokespeople of evil.

No matter how outsiders saw it, this torture was real, and it was for this reason that the lives of witches were generally short. As time went on, it got more and more difficult, and as such, many of the witches chose to end their own life.

The demonic torture when a witch hit adulthood at the age of 18 was the most difficult hurdle to pass. In fact, prior to this point, the magic within them was incomplete, it was only after reaching adulthood that their power was stabilized. After the magic had stabilized, it would also see an increase, and new branches of the abilities could even be created.

Unfortunately, the process of stabilization was extremely painful. The torture of the magical power was so strong that the ordinary adult could not take it, and many witches would die on that day.

Hearing that, Roland was silent for a long time before he whispered, "According to the ancient books, the witches have to find Holy Mountain where they will receive eternal peace and save them from demonic torture. Is that true?"

"No one knows. Holy Mountain only appeared in the legend. However, if we bring them to the Witches Cooperation Association camp, they'll have a better chance to survive. Over there, they would not have to hide themselves and could live freely. The physical suffering will be much less than that of the past."

Roland was vexed because Anna and Nana played an important role in his plan, but he could not bear that they would take tremendous risk for the sake of his plan. "Anna is downstairs. I'll call her over, and if she is willing to go, you can take her with you. As for Nana, I won't see her until tomorrow," he said in a weak voice.

"Thank you for your understanding, it seems I didn't misjudge you," Nightingale said as she stood up to give her regards.

At this time, Anna had not yet slept, and when Roland called her, she was copying something at a desk. Seeing Roland she looked surprised. When she was asked to go to his chamber, she followed him without saying a word.

When she found there was another person in his room, the girl was shocked. Roland took her hand and introduced them briefly, and then the three sat down around a roundtable. Nightingale repeated what she had said before. "In the camp, there are many people like you, and they'll be your sisters."

"This seems to be the case, Miss Anna. Although I signed a contract of employment with you, in the event of life-threatening circumstances, I must respect your opinion. If you agree..."

"I'm not going."

Roland was stunned. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm not going." Anna quickly interrupted. "I want to stay here."

"Anna, I'm not lying to you." Nightingale frowned. "I can feel the soaring magic power in your body is close to maturity. Your day of adulthood will come two months into the Months of Demons. The earlier you come to the camp, the safer you'll be. "

She paid no attention to Nightingale, but turned her head and looked at Roland.

"Your Highness, do you remember when you asked me if I'd like to go back to Karl's College with Nana and learn with the other children?"

Roland nodded.

"At that time I did not respond. But what you said after... I don't care whether to live like a normal person." Anna's voice was smooth and natural. "I just want to stay with His Royal Highness, nothing more."

Roland had thought he had understood Anna's mind, but now he realized that he did not understand it at all.

He could not see any emotions in her eyes. It was neither dependency nor love. There was nothing to see... only deep, bottomless tranquility.

He remembered the first time they met. Back then her eyes also looked as calm as they were now.

The difference was that at this moment her face was full of life, like a blooming flower. Still, she did not fear death, nor did she await it.

"The demonic torture won't kill me," said Anna, "and I'll beat it."

Nightingale closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright, I understand."

"So then, will you leave us alone?" asked Roland.

"No, I'll stay here," she said, pulling on her hood and standing up. "Regardless, the camp won't move until the end of the Months of Demons."

"Why?" Roland was shocked. Did she actually plan to watch them throughout the whole winter?

"I don't think that the chicks who haven't yet seen adulthood will understand its danger. I've hung over the edge of death and witnessed the loss of my companions. When that day comes, I'll help her. If..." Nightingale shrugged. "If she should not survive, I have experience in dealing with the funeral."

She went to the door, unsheathed her dagger, and kneeled once again in front of Roland. "Then I shall take my leave," she said, and her body gradually disappeared into the dark. The mist did not even leave the slightest trace.

"Is this Nightingale's ability?" Roland pondered. "Her silent voice simply makes her a natural assassin. And from how she threw that dagger, she had obviously had the relevant training. Apart from being a group of the same type of people, did the Witch Cooperation Association also assist her with the training? Or was it that she had possessed the skills from her life prior to joining them?"

The information available about the group was simply too little, and Roland could find nothing useful in his memories. However, Roland had a feeling that he would meet yet again with the group, as long as he continued searching for witches.

"It's late. Go back to bed," Roland said as he patted the girl's head.

To his surprise, Anna pushed away his hand, and left without saying a word.

As she shut the door, the lights were cut off behind her and she was left wrapped in shadow. She gently leaned against the door, and the calmness left her as her eyes filled with tears.

She raised her head with her arms in front of her face, and whispered with a voice that no one could hear.

"Fool."

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22 The Declaration

The day after the rain stopped, Border Town became boisterous again. Many villagers gathered in the square, waiting for the speech of Prince Roland amidst heavy discussion.

Roland put up the official notice a day before the speech, saying that anyone who came to the square for this speech could get a dish of oatmeal and half a piece of bread. This amounted to a free lunch for the townspeople. Thus, the audience that showed up was much more than those who watched hanging.

When it approached noon, Roland mounted the elevation stand.

He would be deceiving himself if he said he was not nervous while confronting the sea of people. He mainly dealt with computer monitors before. Even at meetings, he just applauded the speaker from below. Therefore, this was the first time he needed to deal with such a big crowd.

But in order to make the townspeople stay in Border Town, he had to do it. There had to be a general mobilization.

Roland waved his hands and the people became quiet immediately.

This scene had been repeated a lot of times in secret. However, when this formal performance came, his lips still turned dry, "My subjects, good afternoon. This is Roland Wimbledon, the fourth prince of Kingdom of Graycastle. I have gathered you here at this moment to declare an important message."

"The envoy of Longsong Stronghold reached here four days ago for ore delivery. One clear fact is that the collapse of the mine of northern slope was a terrible accident we came across. Till today, the production there has not recovered completely and this accident meant there was only two months' output last quarter. "

"I explained to the envoy this condition and hoped he would distribute enough food to Border Town and we would make up the ores at the end of winter. However, he refused and accepted no negotiation. He refused to distribute more food just like two years ago."

The crowds exclaimed, showing that the food shortage two years ago left a deep impression on them.

"It gets even worse this time. Astrologer of Kingdom of Graycastle informed me that this year's winter would be much longer than before and Months of Demons would probably last for over four months. That is to say, everyone might face two months of food shortage. You lost your companions, brothers or children two years ago. What else are you prepared to lose this time?"

"No! Your Highness, save us, please!" Someone shouted loudly and more screams came next, "Your Highness, we beg you to help us!"

Roland was relieved that he hired a few extras for this occasion. He put up his hands trying to suppress the screams of the crowd. "Of course, I won't leave my subjects behind, not even one. You may not know that the value of wheat and bread Stronghold brings every year is not equivalent to the value of ores they take away. Normally, we just need two months' ores to get half a year's food. I have sold ores to merchants from Willow Town and the freighter they sent would soon get to Border Town. Besides bread, there is also cheese, mulled wine, dried meat. This is enough for everyone during the entire winter!"

There was a burst of cheer in the square.

"However, that means we end our relationship with Longsong Stronghold and they won't take in anymore of our townspeople. We need to pass this winter in Border Town. As most of us can see, there is a substantial city wall being built in the west of Border Town. I want to tell you that you don't need to worry about the threats from demonic beasts. They are not stronger than the beasts from forests. Although huge and strong, they cannot pose threats to the city wall and merely serve as a target."

"Make your choice, my subjects. You have two choices here. One choice is to hide behind the shack of Stronghold and die of hunger. The other one is follow my order and guard Border Town till the end to protect your relatives and children. I promise you that if you hold up until the end of Months of Demons, all those who take part in the building of city wall, will be rewarded 25 silver royals. And anyone who sacrifices his life, his family will get a compensation of five gold royals!"

"Fight for Your Highness!" Following the example of the extras, the audience shouted they would fight to their death. Sensing their high spirits, Roland took the opportunity to distribute lunch. He did not expect all of them to stay in Border Town. He was confident that if just half of them stayed, he could stop the demonic beasts from invading them.

*******************

Petrov didn't know how his Highness Prince Roland maligned him. When he delivered the message to the six nobilities of Stronghold, they all laughed uproariously.

"Do you mean to say that the naive prince intends to throw us off? Even daring to repair the city wall before the coming of winter? Should I praise his courage or ridicule his over-confidence?"

"The bravery of Your Highness is without equal and known to all. However, Prince Roland isn't equipped with this boldness. He is just ignorant!"

"Sure, he doesn't even have any stonecutters. He just piles up those unpolished stones, and add wet mud in between. Be careful they don't all fall down after a certain height."

"Anyhow, it is a good thing. If he escapes to Longsong Stronghold, he has no choice but to submit to us. If he dies in Border Town...we can end this farce early."

"What do you think, Petrov?" The Duke suddenly broke his silence.

Petrov stared blankly for a while and he didn't expect the Duke of Longsong would ask for his opinions. "Uh, I originally planned to carry on the monopoly management. And if the price is 30% cheaper than the market price, it is worthwhile for us. But..." He swiftly organized his thoughts, "His Highness doesn't want Stronghold to specialize in ores management. He would like to sell ores at the price 50% cheaper than market price, which means he plans to increase the output of ores. And once it doubles the output, we could earn more than before. He also intends to produce ironware. It’s popular everywhere and easy to resell. However...these are not the key points."

"What is the key point?"

"If he is able to guard Border Town, that would be nice for Stronghold. We don't need to spend too much effort on fighting against demonic beasts, which could save us a lot of money. Besides, the wide land between Longsong Stronghold and Border Town would belong to us. It would be a good choice to cultivate or migrate, which can relieve the condition of population congestion." Stronghold demonstrated his thoughts one by one. "Besides, Prince Roland won't stay in Border Town forever. Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince just lasts for five years. We are going to obtain a more prosperous Border Town. Longsong Stronghold will be the third largest domain of kingdom with the joining of Border Town. Thus, my advice is..." He peeked at Duke, cautiously saying, "Stronghold needs to send hands to repair the city wall and coordinate to guard Border Town."

"Well done," Duke smiled, "But that's just from a business aspect, analyzing the benefits."

He then straightened up, glancing at all the other participants and his tone became gloomy, "I have come so far today and it is not all about benefits. Why should I deal with a person who is out of my control? You need to obey the rules or you will get punished. It is not that important whether Border Town is prosperous or not. The point is, that is my territory, and no one can interfere, including the prince.

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23 The Source of Power

"Come and try to put the two pieces together," said Roland.

Anna stretched out her fingers and pressed on the seams of the iron plate. The flame sprayed from her fingers, and the interface melted at a visible speed.

"Reduce the firepower, and start from the back again."

She nodded and did as she was told. The two iron plates were joined at 90 degrees and firmly welded together.

Roland scrutinized the interface and the effect was as he imagined—a perfect weld without any flaws. If the traces of grinding could be polished away when the iron was molten, the two iron plates would look no different from a single body.

"Very good, Miss Anna, that was fantastic." Roland could not help but praise. "Next, we'll also attach the other two pieces of iron."

"What's this? An iron... bucket?"

"No, it's a cylinder." He corrected.

"Cylinder?" Anna repeated confusedly.

"Yes, it can be used to fill the air." Roland pointed to another square iron plate. "See the hole above? Air flows from this hole into the cylinder, activating the piston. Hum, the piston is an iron plate smaller than a cylinder's diameter, and it can move freely in the cylinder."

Even Anna, began to feel dizzy in the face of so many foreign words. "Then these... cylinder and piston, what do they do?"

"They are used to create a machine that can move automatically."

The steam engine, the driving force of mankind's first industrial revolution, completely liberated human and animal power.

Its schematic diagram was familiar to every mechanical engineer. In short, it was a magnified version of the kettle. The boiled steam was introduced into the cylinder, pushing the piston and connecting rods, converting heat into mechanical energy.

The principle was very simple, but that did not mean it was easy to manufacture. Its difficulty lay in the airtightness between the cylinder and the piston, as well as the manufacture of the gas pipe. If the metal processing was not advanced enough, relying on manual forging to create a qualified cylinder would be simply impossible.

However, Anna's ability made up for the deficiency in technology.

Roland just needed to design four same-sized pieces of iron plate in advance, let the blacksmith polish the cast, and then use the right-angled plate to fix the shape. Followed by Anna's welding, Roland could get a very stiff square cylinder. With the help of the witch, he did not need to follow the traditional production process, which firstly to make a gun barrel machine, and then to process a circular cylinder. It was the same with the other large parts. You could make small pieces and then join them. In this way, even the blacksmith shops could work together to create a steam engine with all the necessary components.

In fact, before welding was invented, people could only rely on bolts or rivets to connect small pieces. The internal of the cylinder had to be smooth, and the conventional connection obviously could not do this.

The only trouble was the gas pipe. Its production method was not really anything special. A long iron plate was welded untill it became red hot, and was placed into the groove-type mold, and then was knocked into shape with a hammer. This was also the method of producing flintlock barrels. But the barrel also needed to be straightened afterwards, including drilling and rifling, hence it was a little more complex.

The trouble was that Roland could not call the blacksmith to his castle backyard, as the witch could not be exposed yet. Besides, he was not good at forging iron. In desperation, he had to let Chief Knight do it instead.

So after three tedious days, Roland finally created the first steam engine in the backyard.

"So this is your great invention?" Carter frowned at the strange machine. He also ascertained it had nothing to do with the cult. The machine seemed more like a sealed stove, each of whose iron lumps was manually installed by him. It would be strange if the demon had any interest in it.

But how could a pile of iron lumps move? It looked very clumsy, and had no feet. How could it fly?

But in Roland's eyes, this seemingly simple machine exuded the beauty of industrial charm. With the scientific knowledge he acquired in the previous life, he naturally would not make the Newcomen steam engine, the Watt steam engine, or the steam engine. His first trial product was a high-pressure steam engine with double connecting rods and sliding valves. Its manufacturing process was not more difficult than that of the most primitive steam engine, but the key lay in some innovative ideas.

"You'll find out soon!"

Roland poured a bucket of water into the steam compartment, and let Anna light some firewood.

Ten minutes later, the water boiled, and kept boiling furiously. Soon, a crackling sound came from the cylinder, and Roland knew that was the sound of thermal expansion in the cylinder. The piston's iron plate was thin, the expansion was larger than the cylinder block, and would ultimately be edged firmly in the cylinder wall.

"Isn't this boiling water? Didn't expect it to be a stove," Carter muttered.

When the cylinder was full of steam, what happened next made Roland very excited. The piston began to push the connecting rod outwards. When the rod moved to the vertex, the other connecting rod pulled the sliding valve, causing the steam in turn to push the piston inward. The two connecting rods worked alternately to make the wheel rotate, and with the increased firepower, it quickly reached its peak.

The machine let out a harsh roar, and the exhaust spat out white gas, with a kind of unstoppable momentum.

"This is what you mean by... the hidden power of nature?" Anna asked blankly.

The chief knight looked incredulous. He installed the big iron wheel with a huge effort. Yet now it was like a feather spinning, and he could even feel the air blowing caused by the spinning wheels—this could only mean this machine of iron lumps had a surprising strength.

His heart gradually became a little uneasy.

His Highness said that it could replace manpower and animal power. If this was not a lie, when it replaced the horse and the chariots, even ten knights would not be able to resist this brute force.

It took fifteen years to train a qualified knight, but to make such an iron furnace, it only took three days. If the time of building certain parts by blacksmith was counted, it would only take a week in total.

It did not need food, was not afraid of cold and hunger, and also not afraid of arrows, swords and guns. As long as the embolon was mounted, it would be able to rampage on the battlefield.

In this way... what's the point for traditional knights to exist?

*******************

At night, when Roland returned to his bedroom, he saw Nightingale again.

She did not wear a hood this time, sitting at the table with a smile, holding a few pieces of parchment in her hands. "It seems the rumors are really untrue. It's said that Prince Roland is ignorant and unskilled, of vile character, but you're actually much better compared to the court master. Is it the design of the iron furnace on this piece of paper? You call it... steam engine, right?"

"Oh damn, can't I get any privacy? You come and go as you wish, do you think this is your home!" Suppressing his displeasure, he said blankly, "It's a design, but without Anna's help, it's just a sheet of paper."

"What is it for?"

"A lot. Transportation, drainage, smelting, forging. It's useful wherever massive power is needed."

"In that case, I'll keep it." Nightingale rolled the parchment and put it in her robes. "There's also someone in the Witch Cooperation Association who can control the flames."

"Hang on..."

She waved her hand to stop Roland's protest. "Of course, I'm not going to blatantly take your things. Take a look at this first." She placed a small lump of white thing on the table.

Roland went over, picked it up with his fingers and found that it was a roll of paper.

He gently spread it and had a quick look. "This is..."

"The letter sent by the pigeon," said Nightingale in a joking tone. "The recipient is your head maid Tyre, and it seems that your harem is not safe."

"I have never laid a hand on her," Roland said, frowning.

Tyre, seemed to have followed him for a long time in his memory. Originally, the prince was quite interested in her, but he failed in several harassments. After they came to Border Town, he directly promoted her to head maid, so that she could attend upon him. Her room was also arranged just next to his. He did not realize she was a spy sent by his siblings.

Although the letter was not signed, judging by the content, it was very likely the handwriting of his siblings. The letter said the lord was very unhappy about the failure in the last attempt. She was ordered to strike during the riot at Longsong Stronghold next time and not allowed to fail again. "Well, actually she had succeeded," he thought, "or I would not have become Roland Wimbledon."

This letter was unlikely to be forged by Nightingale, because only those who participated in this conspiracy, would know about the first assassination. Plus Nightingale did not need to take so much trouble to kill himself.

"Did you steal this from her?"

"Your head maid was not so stupid. She was about to burn it, but luckily I happened to appear behind her back." Nightingale made a switching action. "So what're you going to do? Do you need my help to 'handle' this?"

Roland definitely knew what she meant by "handle". He hesitated for a moment, and then finally nodded. "In that case, thank you for your kind help." He has no confidence in doing something like this. "If you can, please help me to find out who her mastermind was."

"As you wish, Your Highness," said Nightingale with a smile. "The design will be the pay."

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24 The Development Plan

Waking up in the morning, Roland was not attended to by Tyre, but an old maid.

Walking out of the bedroom, Chief Knight Carter was waiting outside for him.

"Your Highness, I have to tell you a piece of unfortunate news," he said, "Your head maid was found dead last night."

"What?" Roland's eyelids jumped, although he already expected this result, his heart still felt uneasy. After all, she died because of him.

"She fell from the balcony of the room, and there were no traces of fighting. The guard did not see outsiders come in. So... she must have accidentally fallen. It was an accident."

The knight reported the results of the investigation, while looking at Roland a little weirdly. Roland knew what he was thinking of course. In the Kingdom of Graycastle, everyone knew that Prince Roland wanted to possess Tyre. In that era, the prince and the maids having relationships was very normal. There was hardly any entertainment, much less nightlife, so there was literally nothing else to do except fornication. Besides, the prince and the noble would also exchange women among themselves, and even organized orgies. So to say that the circle of noble was chaotic was more than a harmless joke.

Prince Roland was already considered tame in this aspect, and after Cheng Yan woke up as Roland, he did not touch a single woman. Other than Tyre, the rest of the maids were considered quite shabby. Plus after the time travel, he had to face the Months of Demons, so his brain was full of the farming project. He did not have the time to enjoy the decadence of noble life yet.

"It's a pity," said Roland, with a feigned look of remorse. "About Tyre's funeral, ask the old maid who served me this morning to handle it. And she'll now be the new head maid."

Carter nodded, bowed and left.

As soon as Roland entered the office, he saw Nightingale sitting on the mahogany table.

"Did you manage to find out anything?"

"Nothing, she committed suicide when she saw me," Nightingale said, with some frustration. "It was too fast, she didn't hesitate at all."

"You didn't try to stop her?" Roland went round the other side of the desk, and sat back on the chair.

"I had tied her up," said Nightingale, leaning over, "but I didn't know she had poison in her teeth. So I had to set it up like an accidental fall."

"I thought you were very experienced, and you expect to be rewarded for this?"

"Hey, hey, don't put it like that. Although I didn't get any information from her, that does not mean I have nothing to report." Nightingale chuckled and put a folded paper in front of Roland. "Found in her room."

Roland spread out the paper. It was a letter, from someone who called Tyre elder sister, and the content was just ordinary chit-chat. But he noticed that the writer mentioned the sea several times, such as how beautiful the seaside scenery was, and how she liked to stay on the beach to watch the sunset and the like. Finally the writer asked Tyre when she would come back, as she deeply missed her. Recalling the domains of his siblings, Roland asked uncertainly, "Garcia of the Port of Clearwater?"

"That's probably the case as the sea can't be seen in the domains of your two brothers. I guess Princess Garcia Wimbledon must have taken Tyre's sister as a hostage, and used Tyre as a hidden pawn. From Tyre's decisive style of suicide, it's unlikely to be a coincidence. That means before she was arranged to be by your side, she had received at least two to three years of professional training."

Roland sighed softly, and reiterated that the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince would not end so easily. Even if he did not fight for the throne, it did not mean he could stay out of it. To get the throne, his brothers and sisters had no scruples, therefore it was likely something similar would happen again later.

"Ah, somebody is here. I'd better make my move, Your Highness."

Nightingale blew a flirtatious kiss through the air towards Roland, and disappeared with the blink of an eye.

Even if this was not the first time he saw this, it was still shocking to see this in bright daylight. He hesitated, and stretched out his fingers towards the empty space now beside the table, but was stopped halfway by a soft hand. "Your Highness, you'd make Anna sad in this way."

[Well it seems her ability was invisibility and not disappearance,] Roland thought. [That would have been too scary.]

There was a knock at the door. "Your Highness, I'm Barov."

Roland took back his fingers and became expressionless. "Come in."

With a large bundle of files in his arms, the Assistant Minister began to report nearly a week of government affairs right after he came in. Roland also cleared his thoughts, and concentrated on his report. After more than a month of contact, he found himself familiar with Barov's working style, rather than being completely confused and puzzled like in the beginning.

In general, the finance of Border Town had a certain degree of improvement. This was mainly due to the ore and gemstones being sold to Willow Town in exchange for nearly 200 gold royals. After being used to purchase food and pay wages, there were still 90 royals remaining.

Barov was also in a good mood, now that there was some extra money, surviving this winter would not be too difficult.

But Roland was determined to not let him be idle. "I want to pick a group of people from the subjects to fight demonic beasts. And from now on they must be gathered to receive training. The instructor will be my chief knight, and I'll give him the specifics later on. You need to make a purchase plan, as these people must have solid leather armor and a gun, but also two sets of winter clothes."

"Your Highness, this... according to the convention, isn't this a temporary recruitment of subjects for war?"

"Fighting on the battlefield without proper training makes them but a group of mobs. Can we scare off demonic beasts by relying on sheer masses? It's more troublesome if they break up."

"Don't tell me you really want to stand by Border Town?" Barov hesitantly asked.

"If we really can't protect it, of course, I'll retreat. But I don't think we can't defeat even a few mutated beasts.

"If we go according to your plan, you'll need more money."

Barov's miserly face made Roland laugh. "These're necessary expenses, go take care of it."

There were still more than 300 pieces of gold royals in his own vault, mainly used to pay for the cost of building the city wall. He also paid the blacksmith shop for the steam engine materials and components. The first machine cost him almost 20 gold royals, and he needed at least three more.

The steam engine triggered the first Industrial Revolution, but it did not mean that the steam engine was equal to the Industrial Revolution. At that time, the United Kingdom urgently needed a new power to replace people and livestock in order to satisfy mine production. After Watt improved the steam engine, massive orders were immediately received from overseas, and the new power quickly spread to various industries.

At this time, Border Town did not have the foundation for the Industrial Revolution, and industrialization did not even exist. So Roland did not expect to sell steam engines to make the first pot of gold. He just wanted to invest the machine in the Northern Slope Mine Area for mining and gravel. When the mine production increased, then he would expand the steam engine's scale of usage. This was the equivalent of promoting industrial development from top to bottom.

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25 The Militia

"These are the men you recruited?" Roland asked. Looking at the crowd of folks in rags, he had to hold back the urge to turn about and get away immediately.

"Your Highness, these men were chosen according to your requirements," Carter replied, counting his fingers. "Male, no criminal record, above 18, under 40 years old and not disabled... I have checked over everyone carefully."

Alright, Roland knew that he could not expect too much. After all, the productive forces of this world were so low that it would be difficult even to fill the people's stomach, not to mention to dress decently. His identity as a prince prevented him from seeing that refugees who had no clothes on their backs and begged for a living were a common sight out of the castle. As a matter of fact, even in the capital of Graycastle, there existed the profession of corpse collecting. These people dragged away the corpses of the starving who dropped dead in the streets and burned them.

[So what's warfare like in this world?] Roland closed his eyes and contemplated. It seems... it was only a little more elegant than gang fights. Generally speaking, when a lord decided to wage a war, or rather, had a fight, since Roland did not think what they were doing had anything in common with warfare, he would convene all the noble families in his domain, whom in turn convene the lower noble families in their respective domains. For example, a duke would convene his earls, while an earl would convene his viscounts, and a viscount his barons, and so on and so forth.

These noble families usually had a bunch of knights and mercenaries as their own forces. These men were the main forces in a fight, and they were well armed and equipped. At the same time, they recruited common men and peasants in their domains to join the fight. To be honest, their purpose was to carry provisions for the troops and to fight in the frontline. The ones who suffered most in battle were those groups of "cannon fodder". As for the warriors from the noble families, as long as they did not die on a battlefield, they would be captured and then treated well so that they could be traded for ransom.

Roland would not count on those few noble families in Border Town to fight for him. In fact, they had nothing to do with Border Town. Instead, their titles of baron were mostly granted by the Lord of Longsong Stronghold, and their territories also belonged to the domain of Longsong Stronghold.

In this age, a platoon completely composed of common men required some imagination to understand. They were too ignorant to read documents or understand orders. Not to mention that they never had any professional training. How could they be compared with knights who started practicing sword fighting since the age of ten?

Carter approached Roland and said softly, "Your Highness, this method has never been acceptable. Look at them. Which one of them can hold a sword? I'm afraid that they'd soon disperse at the sight of demonic beasts. This would instead disturb the line of defense and have a negative effect. I suggest that we should recruit professional mercenaries from Willow Town or other places to defend the city wall. These men could be kept for sundry duties."

"No, I'll use them," Roland said, refusing Carter's suggestion. He did not like those mercenaries who fought for money. Besides, he was not only building this army to defend against demonic beasts. He knew from history that a powerful and dynamic army must be built from the people, and there were countless feudal, modern, and contemporary armies that had attested to this rule.

"Okay, we'll do as you say," said the knight with a shrug. "Then should I train in swordplay? Though it may not be of much use..."

"Swordplay? No. You should instruct them to stand in formation and run." Roland held back his words after this, as it suddenly occurred to him that the chief knight himself might have never had such an experience. He said instead, "Call the hunter whom you approached last time. You both should pay attention to what I'll do."

*******************

The unimaginable things Van'er experienced today were more than those of the past 20 years combined.

He saw Prince Roland with his own eyes! The prince walked past him and even smiled to him. God, was the prince drunk?

Three days ago, when Prince Roland gave the lecture at the square, he knew that this winter would be different from before. They would not head for Longsong Stronghold, but would instead stay and pass the long winter in Border Town. Most of what the prince said was incomprehensible to him, but yet he agreed wholeheartedly with this decision. Van'er's brother died two years ago in Longsong Stronghold slum. For a whole month there had been no food supply of any kind. He shared the dark bread he bought with the few coppers he had earned unloading cargo at the pier with his brother. But that winter was too cold. Wind came in through every crack of the shack in which they lived, and what they ate could hardly keep them warm. His brother lost consciousness with an ailment and never woke up again.

In Border Town, he at least had a house built by the earth, in which he did not have to fear a heavy snow that lasted long. He also saw wheat transported from elsewhere that piled up on the pier and then was transported to the castle in heaps. So Van'er came as soon as he heard that Prince Roland was recruiting for the militia.

Of course, what had enticed him to give up his quarrying work for enlistment was the pay, which was as high as 10 silver royals per month. It was comparable to the pay of an experienced mason! He was no longer young and planned to marry Sheryl, the tavern waitress the next spring, so it would be wise to start earning money.

As for what the notice said about the militia's duties, he took no notice of it. It was either to carry things for their lordships, or to facilitate the patrol. After all, they couldn't possibly be ordered to fight the frenetic demonic beasts on the city wall.

The selection was strict. The eyes of the knight in shiny armor made Van'er a little nervous. Fortunately, he passed the selection with his rather stout figure, though the knight eliminated many bony fellows through selection. At the end, there were only about 100 people left.

But it had never occurred to Van'er that it was His Highness himself that trained them.

Those who passed the selection were brought to a meadow west of Border Town. Behind them the city wall was being built, while in front of them stretched the endless Misty Forest.

The prince commanded all to stand in formation and then rested aside. It had rained a few days ago and the ground was still mushy. Moisture penetrated his shoes from the water-logged ground, making his whole body uneasy. Not to mention that the posture the prince demanded from them was quite unusual. They had to stand with hands down close to the sides of their thighs and keep their backs straight.

It only took a quarter of an hour to make Van'er exhausted. It was more taxing than hammering stones during the quarrying. But he grinded his teeth and persisted, because His Highness had said the one who moved during the training would not have any egg at lunch. God knew how long it had been since he had last tasted an egg. It was obviously what others thought as well, for they all persisted with all their effort.

It was not until the prince declared that everyone could rest on the spot that Van'er found himself soaked in sweat, despite the fact that he had only stood for half an hour. On the other hand, those who had not made it until the end regretted losing their egg.

Yet Van'er could not think of the use of this training. Could they carry a few more packs of solid food, if they stood like this?

If it was not for the fact that His Highness trained them himself, he would have cried out in doubt much earlier.

But after the rest, the second order His Highness made was even stranger. He commanded that everyone should continue standing in formation. If no one moved this time, each one would have one more egg at lunch. However, this time if even one person gave up, everyone would lose their chance of adding one more egg to their meal.

Van'er heard the sound of someone swallowing.

Hell, was this the new joke of the nobles? With a carrot and a stick, the prince had led everyone on! But Van'er would never consider himself a dumb donkey.

But what if everyone could do it? Then later on he could have two eggs for lunch.

The appeal was too great. Drooling over the eggs, Van'er decided to try his best.

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26 The Experience Learned from History

"Your Highness, what's the meaning of this?" Carter thought Prince Roland was arbitrary before, but now he thought the prince had become divorced from reality.

With regard to how to train a soldier, the chief knight thought that no one would be more professional than himself. His family had a complete set of training method, where a boy of 10 years old could be trained as a soldier, and would master all kinds of weapons in five years. If the soldier was further trained for five years, he would then be a top soldier, a knight who knew all rituals of upper class—of course, the trainees could not come from a civilian family.

[Look at these idiots! They only think of eating eggs!] Carter thought, [Besides... the eggs are so expensive!]

Roland responded casually, "Just watch them, and remember they must be trained in this way for the next few days. Of course, I'll make some changes, and I'll list down the details on paper."

During the cold war era, it was impossible to train a group of qualified soldiers in two or three months. And Roland had never thought of that, as he did not need that kind of Spartan warriors who were strong enough to tear a beast apart with bare arms. The individual soldiers did not have to be strong, but they had to be disciplined and execute every order without fail.

The power of a unit was usually much stronger than individual strength. This was decided by social norm and acceptance. So he needed to form them into a unit quickly. The modern military training, with some modifications to suit the current situation, was a good choice. In his personal experience of military training, it took only half a month to integrate students from all over the country into a cohesive unit. The effect was very obvious regardless of the process.

Only when this group of people completely understood the importance of discipline, could Roland implement the next step of his plan.

Van'er still failed to get the second egg at the end.

They had to stand twice as long as the previous round, and it did not end until someone's legs went weak and trembled.

Just then, Prince Roland announced to have a rest and ordered the attendants to serve lunch. People's anger at the weakling was successfully transmuted into the eagerness toward food. Of course, Van'er began to suspect that His Highness probably had never intended to let them get a second reward.

Lunch was packed in four large pots, which was transported by carriages to the outside of the town. In addition to food, they also brought a lot of wooden bowls and spoons.

Van'er licked his lips, ready to rush to the carriages with the others, but was held back by the chief knight.

His Royal Highness ordered all the people to line up in four rows and come forward one by one for bowls and spoons. Whoever dared to disturb the order would be forced to be the last one to get his food.

The crowd hustled and squeezed, and lined up into four rows. Van'er was lucky enough to stand in the forefront of the outermost row. Of course, some people were not satisfied with their positions. The sound of quarrels and fighting was heard in the rows. Soon the knights and several guards rushed into the crowd and kicked the troublemakers out.

[Fool,] thought Van'er when he glanced at the man who started the riot. That was Insane Fist, the most aggressive street fighter in the town. He used to stir up trouble everywhere with his brute force, but now he had to squat in the corner with swords pointed at him. Look how pitiful he was now.

He felt that he had already figured out what His Royal Highness liked.

He liked order.

They had to stand upright in a straight line, line up to get food, and always follow orders... Van'er had heard from some knowledgeable businessmen that some of the noble had a strange habit: they could not tolerate disorder and once something was out of place, they could not help rearranging things.

In Van'er's mind, this kind of person was purely bored and had nothing better to do. So they would deliberately create some trouble to occupy their mind.

He did not expect that His Royal Highness was such a person.

When the lids of the pots were opened, Van'er smelled the strong flavor of food.

When the flavor spread in the wind, he almost lost himself in it. The crowd also became restless, but soon the knight roared to keep them quiet. [We probably have to line up again,] Van'er thought.

Sure enough, Prince Roland required them to line up for their portions of food just like before.

Their mouths were watering and their stomachs were growling. But thinking of what happened to Insane Fist, they had to line up and wait patiently.

The pots were filled with hot oatmeal. To Van'er's surprise, there was even dried meat in the porridge! Even if he only got one thin slice, but that was meat! In addition, he even got an extra egg like he wished for.

Van'er gobbled down the porridge, even licking the bottom of the bowl once. He swallowed the entire egg without biting. Since he ate so fast and carelessly, his tongue blistered quickly.

After putting down the pot, Van'er patted his belly and made a satisfied hiccup. He had not enjoyed such delicious food for a long time. And what was even more incredible was that he even felt a sense of satiety. Compared with brown bread, the sweet meat porridge tasted like heaven. He even thought, if he could eat such food every day, what would it matter if he had to fight against the demonic beasts in the front?

After lunch, they had a long period of rest. They were brought back within the city wall, walking all the way to the camp of the battalion. A burly man of foreign nation came out and began to teach everyone how to set up tents.

Van'er knew him—nearly everyone in the town knew Iron Axe. With regards to his superb archery skill, he even far surpassed the most experienced old hunters in the town. [Wait a moment, so now Iron Axe is serving Prince Roland? It seemed that I saw him by the side of the knights before.] Van'er frowned and thought, [What's His Highness planning? Iron Axe is a man of Sand Nation.]

"Do you really intend to appoint a man of Sand Nation as captain?" Carter had the same question. "He doesn't belong to Kingdom of Graycastle. And he isn't even from our continent."

"The witches don't belong to the Kingdom of Graycastle either," Roland said, "but they all belong to Border Town. Besides, aren't you watching them for me?"

"But, Your Highness..."

"Don't worry." Roland patted the knight's shoulder. "The origin of a person doesn't matter in Border Town. As long as they don't violate the law of the kingdom, they're still my subjects. If you're really worried, you can choose two more excellent captains. Anyway, the team will continue to expand in the future, and you can cultivate some promising ones now. I have written down the training regulations. Compared to the people of Sand Nation, I think you'd better be more concerned about this."

Carter took the parchment roll from Roland's hands. Skimming through the contents from beginning to end, he got a nasty shock. The training contents were almost unheard of. For example, they needed to run laps around Border Town in the afternoon from 2 p.m. till sunset. The regulations emphasized that everyone had to complete this, and they were allowed to help each other on the way. If they persevered and no one gave up, they would get an extra egg for dinner. Another example, when the whistles were blown at night, everyone had to get dressed and fall in as soon as possible. With these kinds of training exercises, Carter was afraid that most people would quit in a few days.

The first few rules were already hard to understand, and the last one completely confused him.

"Every day after dinner, they're required to go to Mr. Karl's college for cultural training."

"Your Highness... What do you mean by cultural training? Do you want to teach them to read and write?"

"I hope so, but the time is too limited. Karl could only teach them some simple words and numbers so that they can read and write orders. I'll personally explain this part to Karl. You just need to send them over."

"But, why do you want to do this? It's of no use in fighting against the demonic beasts."

"Who said so?" Roland yawned. "A unit good at fighting must also be well educated. That's the experience learned from history."

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27 The Pas

The weather was getting colder day by day, and Roland was waking up later and later.

As the ruling class, he certainly had the right to sleep late. Especially with his large bed and three layers of velvet blankets, his whole body would fall into the soft encirclement when lying down. This made it much harder for him to get up early.

After washing up, Roland stepped into his office and found Nightingale had been waiting there for a long time.

"Well, here is your breakfast. I ate half when it was hot, but now it's cold," she said, with her lips protruding. She nodded her head in the direction of the remaining bread on the table, as if she was the lord of the domain

"Hasn't anyone taught you to be humble before the prince?" asked Roland, as he pushed away the plates and sat at the desk. "I remember you were very polite at first."

He sighed inwardly. He had not realized that she made friends instantly, and she would always be accompanying Anna or him. She had kept hidden at first, but now as long as there was no outsider present, she would stroll around his office and not even wearing a hood.

"Like this?" She jumped off the table and bowed in the style and etiquette of a flawless noble. "You've been getting up later and later recently. Since the breakfast remained unconsumed, I wanted to do you a favor by helping myself to some of it, Your Highness." She walked toward Roland and said, "You don't care, do you? I can see that you don't like the tedious etiquette."

"Did she have a third eye?" Roland wondered silently. "She could see even this."

He sighed. "As you like, but you'd better finish the breakfast once you start it in the future. I'll order another portion if I want to eat it."

"Yes, Your Highness!" She smiled and picked up the plate, moving quickly to one side.

Roland rolled out a blank parchment. He was ready to complete the design drawing, left unfinished from yesterday.

If he wanted to defend Border Town, he should not pursue a win with an almost equal loss in the first battle of winter. Since a corp that had not experienced war was not a qualified one, Roland feared that if there was any major loss, his soldiers who had only been trained for a short time, would not have the courage to stand on the city wall.

He needed epochal weapons in order to have an absolute advantage over the demonic beasts.

There was no doubt that he needed the flintlock.

The era was equipped with all the conditions for the emergence of the flintlock. The alchemists often produced something they called snow powder for palace celebrations. It was essentially gunpowder but with the wrong formula and could burn slowly. When put into the copper tube, it mostly just made a small sound.

In about one century, the prototype of the flintlock, the harquebus, would appear. The firearm had a complicated operation, which relied on the cooperation of two people doing the loading and shooting. In general, it could only be used as a single-shot weapon. As for its speed and power, it was no match for a trained archer.

Roland, of course, was not interested in repeating history. It was better to make use of the witch's ability and create a flintlock with practical value, just like he had created the steam engine.

"I had looked at the order on the table before you came," Nightingale swallowed the last piece of bread and asked casually, "What are you going to do with so many ices? It's winter now, and if you want to drink cold ale, why not directly put it outside for one night?"

The noble liked to use ice during summer, namely, the ice made of saltpeter. Then they could cool their milk, wine or juice for enjoyment. Thanks to winter's blessing, the current purchasing price for saltpeter was very low.

"To make iced cheese, the temperature is not low enough yet. It doesn't work well without freezing," Roland replied precariously.

Although the woman in front of him was not his enemy, he did not know her as well as he knew Anna. Unlike the steam engine, there were not so many technical barriers to the flintlock. Once it became popular, it would obviously be unfavorable to his farming project. Until he learned more about her, it was better to keep some things from her. Thinking of this, he tentatively asked, "Does the Witch Cooperation Association help to train killers in addition to searching for Holy Mountain?"

"No, they're only a group of poor people coming together for a dream," Nightingale waved and said, "and I joined the Witch Cooperation Association only two years ago."

"In other words, you were working for someone else?" She could not have gained such perfect dagger-throwing skills without someone's guidance or years of hard work. Roland was pretty sure about it. "Other than me, is there anyone else willing to take in a witch?"

"Take in?" Nightingale looked a bit strange. "How could it be. If he had known that I would become a witch, he wouldn't have even let me through his door. As for later on, if I had not proved my usefulness to him, I'd have been secretly killed."

"Oh? Can you elaborate?"

Nightingale shook her head with a smile, which contained slightly inexpressible moods this time. "Your Highness, I'll let you know when the time is right. I know what you're worried about. Please rest assured that I have been free for the last five years, and no longer work for others."

Negotiations failed, it seemed that he was not charming enough... However, her answer indirectly confirmed his speculations. At least five years ago, she had secretly done something for someone. Fortunately, the person had only used Nightingale by chance, instead of recruiting large numbers of witches like he intended to.

Roland did not ask more. He bowed his head and went on with the drawings.

To his surprise, Nightingale, who had always liked being around him, became quiet, only leaving the sound of furnace fire burning in the room. When Roland lifted his head to stretch his limp, numb neck, she had left the office.

"She didn't say goodbye," he muttered, folding the parchment and putting it into the inner pocket of his underclothes.

He worked for a few days. He finished all the work, including the drawings, and the designs of the weapons, or the copies.

He was planning to make the famous flintlock, which was time-tested and similar to the harquebus in terms of the technique level, with the ignition charge loaded into the rear, and the lead ball loaded into the front. Its rate could be nearly three shots per minute. So more than sufficiently, it could be used to cope with the unintelligent mutant beasts.

Most animals would not be able to climb the wall, so the shooting distance was approximately equal to the distance from the top of the city wall to the ground, approximately four meters. Within this distance, it was hard to miss the target and the initial speed of the bullet would hardly decrease. As long as the demonic beasts had not evolved with a skin harder than steel, they could basically be killed in one shot.

The disadvantage of the flintlock was its long production time. At first, like the harquebus, it was made by craftsmen's repeated beats with a hammer. From the barrel to the trigger, it took about three months to make the whole gun. Among all the parts, the barrel was the most time-consuming. The craftsman had to beat the iron sheet into a thin and cylindrical shape, seal it with iron powder, and then engrave the rifling. Although there was no need for precise instruments, the craftsman must be skilled in order to make qualified barrels.

This was why Roland had produced the steam engine first.

With the steam engine available, he could directly drill a barrel into a solid iron bar with the steel drill. So, the production speed would be greatly improved, without any more reliance on the operation by the skilled craftsmen. The only thing he needed would be a table on which he could fix the iron bar.

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28 Fierce Scar

Chapter 28 Fierce Scar
When Roland tried to change the theory into practice, he discovered that it wasn’t as easy as he imagined.

In the backyard after four or five days, the production of a harder drill was successful. It was easily quiet since he could use the high-temperature flame from Anna, which could easily get above 1500 degrees, and was enough to melt iron. Without needing to think about temperature control, and using the conventional method of producing steel, it was easy and quickly possible to make a small quantity of steel bars – namely the high-speed stirring of iron clubs with molten iron. The excess carbon and other impurities in the pig iron would oxidize when coming into contact with the air. By repeating this several times before letting the molten iron cool down, it was possible to get high-quality steel.

The problem laid within the steam engine.

The worked up noise and vibration by his prototype of the steam engine was very impressive, even when stabilizing the drill it was impossible to complete a pipe. When doing heavy work or menial jobs, this degree of tremor didn’t matter, but processing a gun barrel was clearly not possible.

If he wanted to improve the steam engine, he would have to create a centrifugal mechanics governor to control the output power of the steam engine, and then he could reduce the tremor by using gears to adjust the rotation speed of the drill. And he need a simple lathe machining gear. With all this in mind, Roland simply found no way to achieve this goal while preparing for the coming Months of the Demons.

In the end, he could only use the old fashioned way, and let a blacksmith hammer the drill into the barrel. But the plan to mass-produce firearms was impossible. According to the number of smithies in Border Town, it was only possible to produce 3-4 root barrels each month, but only in the case that he stopped the production of the second steam engine.

The only good news was that didn’t have to worry about the quality of the barrels. The blacksmith only had to knock out a rough pipe, and then Anna could do the unifying commissure, her work was seamless and so good that it basically eliminated the risk of a barrel explosion.

So Roland had no choice but to change his former plan. He had intended to recruit hunters from Border Town, who would then form a rifle team – most of them were proficient in archery with either a bow or crossbow, both were handy weapons. In addition, they only need a short amount of time to train with the firearms, so they could be quickly sent into combat.

But now with only four guns produced before the Months of the Demons, he could only pick the most outstanding hunters and had no manpower to build up an elite group. Roland decided to let Iron Axe handle this matter, he already spent fifteen years in Border Town, so he should know who the best hunters are.

*

For the last month, Brian was unhappy.

Especially when he met the militia in the street, his unsatisfied feeling would be doubled… He even felt a trace of loathing.

He felt His Highness had forgotten him.

A month ago when he was called by the chief knight, he was full of excitement. He would have close contact with the 4th Prince, and get orders directly from His Royal Highness, how fortunate and glorious would that be!

He grew up in Border Town, and although he born from a common hunting family, by virtue of his ability he was able to get a place as town patrol.

He knew he could not rely on his family background to become a knight, but instead could only wait for the opportunity to get enough merits to receive the honor of becoming a knight.

His Highness asked him what he knew about the demonic beasts, so he was apparently unwilling to give up his own territory during the winter. He was trying to find ways to fight the demonic beasts. Later the wantonly built walls also proved that there was no doubt that this year they would spend the Months of the Demons in Border Town.

If he wanted to stop the invasion of the demonic beasts here, we would have to set up a front-fighting team. Brian thought that he himself was a good candidate, he was proficient in investigating, fencing, and riding, and in the last year he was even the last person in Border Town who ignited the flames, proving that he did not lack courage, but he had never expected that His Highness intended to elect a team from the civilian population to fight against the demonic beasts!

Yes, a purely civilian team, and not just him, but the entire patrol team of ten people were not accepted during the review by the chief knight. This was simply incredible, did His Highness think that these people, who had never held a sword, would be better at fighting than his own town patrol? He was afraid that when they got to see the evil beast’s fierce appearance they would instantly collapse!

But His Highness seemed to be serious… He not only trained the mob, but even gave them a uniform and many other clothes. Every afternoon Brian could see this group of people dressed up in a brown and gray leather armor, they were arranged in two columns running down the street. In the beginning, they were lacking any order, but recently the had become neater and neater.

While he himself still had to perform his boring task every day, he couldn’t see any possibility of promotion now.

When he was tossing and turning at night, he could hear a sound at his door, then the door opened and someone came in quietly.

“Hey, we are up,” whispered a person in a low voice. Brian could tell to whom this voice belonged, it belonged to member of his own patrol, nicknamed Fierce Scar.

In his room slept five people. In addition to himself and Greyhound, the other three quickly stood up, and they seemed well prepared, they hadn’t even taken off their coats.

“Captain, get up, I have something important to tell you.”

In Longsong Stronghold Fierce Scar had a noble relative, who had not heard of his great noble uncle? So thanks to this he had a high status within the team. It was not good for Brian to ignore him, so he had to climb up and ask, “What happened?”

Greyhound also woke up, “This is… it’s so late, why don’t you sleep… aren’t you sleepy?”

“I have the greatest job in your lives to introduce to you, you want to be canonized as a knight, right?”

“What…What? Knight?” Greyhound was surprised.

Brian heart jump wildly and he quickly asked, “In the end what is the job?”

“You all know my uncle Hill, he isn’t only the herald of Duke Ryan, even more, he is one of his confidants. This is news he himself personally confessed to me,” Fierce Scar spoke with a low voice, “The 4th Prince preparing to shake off the shackles from Longsong Stronghold made Duke Ryan very unhappy. He has decided to let the prince know who the true owner of the western border is. “

“Difficult, difficult, don’t… your plan… assassination…” Greyhound was so nervous he even begun to stammer, and he didn’t even speak a complete sentence.

“How would that be possible,” Fierce Scar laughed maniacally, “After all, he is a Prince, if we kill him, not even Duke Ryan could shelter us. I said this is your biggest chance in your life.”

Brain felt subconsciously that the deal was certainly not as simple as he claimed it to be, but the temptation to be canonized as a knight was too great, he could not help himself and opened his mouth, “Begin to talk, we are listening.”

“Food! If he has no food, he can only humble himself and go back to Longsong Stronghold where Duke Ryan already promised him a place. As long as we can successfully burn the food, which the 4th Prince had previously bought, Duke Ryan will organize the canonization ceremony for us, and will give each of us fiefdom east of Longsong Stronghold. This is a golden opportunity, Captain, what do you think? “

“Y-you are crazy… now, hadn’t His Royal Highness’ astrologer said that this year… Months of the Demons would likely hold on for more than four months… if we set the food on fire, if we burn it all, what would we eat!?” Greyhound again and again shook his head, “two… two years ago, there was a great famine, has everyone forgotten it?”

“What does it have to do with us?” asked another person disdainfully, “Anyway, I do not intend to stay here, if we do the job for Duke Ryan, we can live a comfortable life in the stronghold.”

“Yes, do you want to eat this hell of slag for a lifetime, do you?” Other people begun to chime in.

Hell, they already colluded at an earlier time. Brian’s heart became cold, and in addition, except Greyhound most of them were from outside of Border Town, they came from all over the kingdom and they don’t have any nostalgia with this town. Feeling powerless to stop them, Brian had to change the subject, “But the purchased wheat was transferred to His Royal Highness’ castle, and all the doors are guarded by His Highness’ knights, how could you go through with your plan?”

“That’s why I need your help,” Fierce Scar smiled proudly, “From an early age you have stayed in this broken place, so no one is more familiar with the environment here than you. I remember that you once said that there is a ravine in an abandoned well, and its end is connected with the castle’s water supply. Through it, we can silently enter the castle garden. Didn’t you find it when you were still a child? How is it? With this easy task, you can become a knight in the future – a knight personally canonized by Duke Ryan. “

A knight… should not do any injustice, instead, he should have the courage to fight against it, and he should not be afraid of any danger, and should always be ready to protect the weak! For Duke Ryan’s personal gains, the residents of his hometown would face the threat of hunger and death? Becoming a knight like this, there was no glory at all!

He refused to open his mouth, but Greyhound begun to shout.

“You are a group of maniacs! You… you’re… actually thinking about the idea of burning the food! I would never! Never let you leave this place! I will report it, report to… ahh,” Greyhound only spoke until here, his voice suddenly became weaker, with an incredible look he turned around, looking at a former teammate standing behind him and sneering at him. A black dagger was insert in Greyhound’s waist; the dagger was totally inserted into the body. Greyhound shivered twice, he opened his mouth and tried to say something, but he could only emit a hoarse breathing sound.

The other guard stirred his dagger twice, and then he abruptly withdrew it. Greyhound, like a doll who suddenly lost its support, softly crumbled to the ground.

“How?” Fierce Scar was suddenly so close to Brian, that the latter could even feel the foul breath exhaled from his mouth, “I think you have made a decision, right, Captain Brian?”

TN:

If you are interested into the centrifugal mechanics governor, here are more informations and a video
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29 Brian“s Anger

The lord's castle in Border Town had not been originally built in its current position.

Whilst burying the foundation of the stone wall, an underground cave was uncovered. The ground suddenly collapsed, so there was no choice but to move the position of the castle.

The waterways that had already been dug were mostly destroyed during the collapse. Even those that were intact were abandoned because of the reconstruction.

When Brian was young, he often played in these tunnels, and one day he accidentally found that the route from an abandoned well led to the well of the castle garden. Brian told his father, and was severely beaten. His father warned him that the punishment for trespassing the castle was death. Once found guilty, he would be sent straight to the gallows.

Brian was terrified and naturally did not walk through the waterway again. But at times when everyone got together to drink and chat, he had more than once boasted that he knew a direct access to the castle. Now he regretted his remarks.

Excluding Greyhound, there were a total of nine people. In other words, the entire patrol team had been persuaded by Fierce Scar—being able to serve Duke Ryan, the lord of the Western Region, with such a lucrative return, was a temptation few people could resist.

The abandoned well was located at the outset of the collapse, and now it remained a wasteland. Held by Fierce Scar's sword and caught in the middle of the platoon, Brian went down the well. What was once a spacious waterway, was now very narrow. No one had passed through in years, plus the water direction had changed. Many vines had sprouted all over the cave.

The bloke who had stabbed Greyhound was in front holding the torch and bowed. He held a short axe and used it to remove obstacles.

Brian pretended he was trying to remember the road, but in fact, he was thinking about getting away.

Obviously in such an inconvenient place, he had no possibility of escaping. He could only wait till he got to the castle, before getting a chance. What should he do once he got there? Shout to attract the personal knights of His Highness? No. Fierce Scar would raise his hand and finish him off. He had to lengthen their distance first, otherwise he would end up like Greyhound.

Thinking about Greyhound, Brian's eyes became bleak again.

He and Greyhound had lived in Border Town before it was even established. The two had spent their childhood together and joining the patrol team was also Brian's idea. He had not expected that Greyhound would be elected as the patrol team leader.

Brian was happy for him for a long time. Because of his stutter, Greyhound had always been despised by others. Now, he had finally gotten the opportunity to be recognized. At least at the time, it was what Brian thought.

But when Greyhound fell and Brian screamed, Fierce Scar told him the real reason they had been elected captains.

"Fool, patrol leaders have to stay until the Months of Demons, to ignite the flames and warn everyone. If you two didn't do it, did you expect me to do it myself?"

The sentence was like a sharp knife piercing Brian's heart.

All those compliments and congratulations were false, and the real reason was actually so ugly. He showed a look of shock and despair to cover up his raging anger. It was simply unforgivable. Brian secretly clenched his teeth. Someone had to pay the price!

After walking through the dried-up waterway for half an hour, they finally heard the sound of water.

This meant that they were not far from their destination.

After turning a corner, it suddenly became more spacious, and could accommodate two people standing side by side. The person walking at the head of the platoon said, "There's no way forward, just a shaft."

"What's happening?" Fierce Scar nudged the sword and asked.

"Ask him to look up," said Brian. "We have arrived."

The abandoned waterway was connected to the middle of the castle backyard's waterway. Perhaps it had not been sealed shut due to negligence. Fierce Scar stuck to the wall and looked up, three feet below him was gushing water, and above his head he could see a small circle of the night sky.

He let people guard Brian, while he pulled out a rope from the backpack, tied the hook, and gently threw it up. When a "dang" sound was heard, the hook was firmly stuck in the edge of the well's head.

Fierce Scar followed the rope, and carefully climbed up. Soon, he tugged the rope several times above, indicating that the rest of the people could come up.

The line of people took almost half a day's efforts to climb out from the well. The castle which was originally far from sight now stood erect in front of them.

Fierce Scar grabbed Brian and shouted, "Hurry and take us to the warehouse."

Brian had only come here once. Though the memory of the castle was obscure, he quietly led the crowd, pried open the nearest wooden door and slipped into the castle.

At this hour, most people inside the castle were asleep, and the lamp lights along the corridor walls were completely extinguished. In the pitch-black darkness, someone from the platoon lit a fire. Faint fire could only illuminate a few feet, and Brian knew his chance had come.

When the platoon went to a crossing leading to the basement, he aimed at the bottom of the ladder, and suddenly rushed over. Although the person who held Brian had been paying attention to his movements, but the leap was too fast. Before he could react, he collided and began rolling down with Brian.

Down the ladder, the two instantly came out of the fire's range, and disappeared in the darkness.

"Oh, damn!" Fierce Scar immediately pulled out the dagger, and chased after them. He thought Brian would use the dark to play hide and seek with him. But not only did Brian not escape, he was also quietly standing under the stairs, as if waiting for him.

Fierce Scar saw that the associate who collided with Brian was lying on the ground motionless. And Brian was holding the man's weapons in his hand.

"Fool, do you think you'll have a chance to win?" Fierce Scar held his attack stance, waiting for the others to come down, and then said, "There are seven of us, and only one of you."

Brian did not answer, and he no longer needed to suppress his anger. He swung the sword, and swiftly struck the peak of Fierce Scar's sword, with sparks flying. Without waiting for the next stance, he stabbed the sword into Fierce Scar's shoulder!

Fierce Scar roared and fell backwards. Another one stepped forward, blocking the pursuit of Brian.

This was an excellent place to strike, as the narrow aisle gave the opponents hardly any advantages. He just had to stand in the middle of the aisle facing the enemy, and the opponents could not do anything. It was just too narrow here to accommodate two people waving weapons.

With regards to swordsmanship, Brian was confident he would not lose to anyone of the patrol team.

When this group of scum was lazing around, gambling, and indulging in the bar, he was honing his fighting skills. Regardless of wind, frost, rain or snow, years went by and his routine was never interrupted. This was also why he did not choose to immediately shout for help.

He wanted to personally avenge Greyhound's death.

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30 Coming from the Mis

The enemy only blocked Brian's two strikes before his weapons were knocked down.

[They're more like a bunch of hooligans than members of the patrol team.] Brian thought angrily. [Other than blackmail and extortion, what else have they done? Greyhound and I meticulously performed the tasks given by the lord, but ended up being the weird ones out of the team.]

But... it just so happened, this group of scum, in order to join Longsong Stronghold, did not care about what happened to the town, and used despicable methods to kill Greyhound.

Unforgivable!

He wielded the sword, aiming toward a frightened opponent's neck...

At this moment, a shadow emerged from the target, and swiftly stabbed close to Brian's heart. This blow was too concealed, so when he detected it, it was already too late.

In desperation, he crashed backwards to the ground, his body popping up, and felt a stabbing pain at his chest.

After rolling a few laps, Brian immediately stood up and put on a defensive stance. That sword attack only pierced his coat and skin, and there was no serious harm done. But the main point was who did the attack! He did not know any guy in the patrol team with such a fencing skill.

"Huh? You actually dodged the attack." The man pushed away his teammate and came forward.

By the firelight, Brian found he did not know that person—he was not tall, and yet his hands were very long, hanging down almost to the knees. His face was unfamiliar, and Brian vowed he had never seen this face before.

"You're not from the patrol team... Who're you exactly?"

Despite having few dealings with the five people next door, but at least he recognized them. This guy obviously replaced one of them, followed the team in and infiltrated the castle. It was not surprising that he did not discover him in the middle of the night, but it was impossible that Fierce Scar did not notice as well. Since they did not seem surprised, then there was only one explanation that this guy was deliberately arranged by Fierce Scar.

"You already know the answer, so why asking me?" He smiled indifferently. "Anyway, you're going to die."

"Damn, he's injured me!" Fierce Scar shouted hatefully. "Viper, chop off his hands and feet, and I want to slowly drain his blood!"

"Unfortunately, Mr. Kihls, I have to first complete the tasks of the earl."

Without much pause, the guy known as Viper continued attacking. His movement was swift and mysterious, plus his abnormally long arms, forcing Brian into a bitter struggle. Brian was forced to retreat, and simply could not find an opportunity to counterattack.

[Too careless!] Brian began to feel anxious. [We've fought for so long, surely the people above would have noticed, right?]

He wanted to personally revenge Greyhound's death, but yet now he only wished he could hold on a little longer, till the guards of His Royal Highness came to ambush this group of villains.

"You seem to be expecting something." Viper suddenly paused attacking. "I guess you're waiting for the prince's men to save you? Unfortunately, this stone castle is different from your usual pubs and hotels. In those wooden houses, the floors would creak when people were entertaining. But here, as long as the door was closed, you could shout at the top of your lungs, and no one would hear any movement upstairs."

After Brian's thoughts had been exposed, he could not help but hesitate, and Viper was waiting exactly for this opportunity. He kept the sword pointing down to dull the opponent while slightly raised the other hand to trigger the hand crossbow in the sleeve.

A bolt with just a finger's length was shot from the cuff, and once Brian heard the light buzzing of the machine, the bolt was already thrust in his lung.

Unbearable pain suddenly exploded in his chest. Brian threw the sword at Viper, and turned back to run. But the blood from the lung exuded quickly into the trachea, making it difficult for him to breathe. He did not run far, before he tripped over the threshold, with a staggering heavy fall to the ground.

Viper caught up with him, and wanted to terminate his opponent, but was stopped by Fierce Scar.

"Let me do it," he said gnashing his teeth. "I want this guy to know what happens to those who stab me!"

A trace of cool flashed across Viper's face, but he eventually moved aside. "Do it efficiently, and don't forget our main business."

Fierce Scar grabbed Brian's hair and shouted at him, "Believe me, you'll die a very painful death."

Brian wanted to spit some blood on his face, but his whole body's strength was draining away, and he knew he did not have long to live. Past regrets surged to his heart, such as the wife he had not yet met, and the dream to be a knight. But the most regrettable was... being unable to avenge Greyhound.

Wait, what was that?

He blinked, and there was a woman sitting on top of a box. Although under the dim light, her look was not clear, that exquisite body proved clearly that she was without doubt a woman.

Hell, was this an illusion... When he fell into the room, he did not see anyone inside. Did the deities in heaven hear his complaints, and deliberately created a fantasy to comfort him?

"Hey, you guys are not only fighting in other people's territory, and even intend to kill right in front of me. Don't you think that's inappropriate?"

Brian could feel Fierce Scar's hand tremble, and let loose his hair. He could hear sounds of weapons bursting out of the sheath, and some shouts. "Who are you!?"

[Their reaction is just too... Wait!] Brian was thinking hazily. [Isn't this an illusion?]

"Of course I'm from here." The woman jumped from the barrel, and patted the dust from her robe. In the dim firelight, Brian saw her gown was embroidered with a strange pattern—three juxtaposed triangles, and a huge eye in the center. The silhouette of the eye shone golden bright under the firelight.

"What about you guys? Rats that come from the gutter?" Her voice was crisp and sweet, yet without any emotion. This was unreasonable... Anyone who saw a murder scene would not behave so calm.

Viper was also aware of this. He looked somber, walked slowly around the other's side, and suddenly stabbed her.

The woman did not even turn her head, but casually waved her hand. Viper did not even see her weapon, but just felt a burst of cold wind blowing through his body.

There was a scream. Fierce Scar stared incredulously, and he saw Viper rush forward and retreat quickly. But the original site of the sword was now an empty space.

His arms fell to the ground, as well as the sword.

Fear suddenly strangled Fierce Scar's throat. The others might not know, but he was very clear about Viper's bottom line—vicious, dangerous and cunning when attacks. This was the earl's evaluation of this person. Someone who could be chosen and recruited by the earl, only meant his strength should not be underestimated. Even Brian would have difficulty in resisting his attack for more than half a quarter. But now, he was nonchalantly attacked by a woman, and his whole arm severed.

"What're you guys waiting for, hurry and kill her!" Viper shouted, holding his wound.

After having lost a lot of blood, Brian's vision began to blur. He heard chaotic sounds of footsteps, weapons, collision, and muffled sounds when bodies fell to the ground. What had happened exactly? He tried to turn his eyes, looking forward...

And then the patrol leader saw an image he could not understand.

That woman's figure was like a ghost, and she strolled amongst the crowd, disappearing and appearing at times. Every attack would penetrate the enemy's vital point. It did not seem like a fight, and it looked more like a dance. He had never seen anyone use weapons with such a sense of rhythm. The sword shadow was flying up and down, and drawing an incredible orbit. The people around seemed like clumsy clowns, compared to her. They futilely counterattacked, and then fell in vain... In the end, she was the only person proudly standing.

That was also the last sight Brian saw before losing consciousness.

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31 Our Friend

Chapter 31 “Our friend”

Roland was sitting at his desk in a dazed state. He actually didn’t expect that someone was trying to commit murder in his castle. He was afraid that if Nightingale hadn’t promptly discovered them, they would have murdered him in cold blood.

Who ordered this assassination attempt? Was it his third sister, or one of his other siblings? Why were they doing this? It was a five-year struggle for the throne, but in the past few months they had already tried to kill him twice. Roland, full of irritation, banged his desk. This was simply outrageous! Couldn’t they just let him face the Months of the Demons?

Footsteps could be heard from outside of the door. It was Carter, his chief knight. After he pushed open the door he said, “Your Highness, the identities of the deceased have been identified. From the eight bodies, seven were original members of the patrol, but the last one is still unidentified. In addition, there are two who are still alive and under the care of the witch… if not… After being treated by Miss Pyne, they have yet to wake up. Also the path to the sewers is being closely guarded now.”

They were from the town patrol? He knew that the team raised by the former Lord wasn’t reliable. Roland gritted his teeth, actually, eight from the ten people were disloyal, so not letting them join the militia was really the right choice.

“That is good, and also make sure they are always well-guarded, don’t let them commit suicide like the last time!”

“Like…The last time?”

“Oh, nothing.” Roland shook his head. Apparently due to Nightingale’s early wake up call, his head was still confused. “Anyway, I want to know everything about them. Who is their leader? Who is their contact person? Who is their investor? You must investigate all of this and more…”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Carter had gotten his orders, but he did not leave immediately, instead he went down on one knee and said, “That the assassins could sneak into the castle was my dereliction of duty. I hope Your Highness will punish me.”

“Enough is enough. At that time, you weren’t even in the castle, so this has nothing to do with you.”

“Well ……” Carter hesitated, “Can you tell me who it was in the end that prevented this assassination attempt? I could see from the scene, that they…” the knight had to swallow, “all of them seem to be have been killed by the same person and were totally defenseless.”

“That you can tell?” Roland was curious.

“If they were evenly matched, the scene wouldn’t be so clean and the wounds would be in a wide range all over the bodies,” Carter whispered, “Everybody was killed down in the small warehouse, in addition to blood and dead bodies there was nothing else on the ground. There was almost no damage to the goods placed down there. Those big boxes which store bacon didn’t even have a sword cut. That shows that the man didn’t need to use any cover, it seems as if he was taking a walk in a small clearing. With all due respect, Your Highness, this is just too incredible. ”

“So that’s the reason,” Roland nodded his head, he understood the meaning of Carter’s explanation. After a theoretically strong person was surrounded, he would fall into an extreme adverse situation – real fights usually didn’t end like what was shown in movies, where the surrounded person sends one enemy after the other towards the ground. An attack from a blind spot would be particularly deadly. So to fight many, the correct approach would be to rely on the terrain and the environment so that they could always face the opposition.

But Nightingale was not one of those ordinary people.

“No matter what you do, you have to complete the mission I gave you, first. This person cannot be revealed yet, but when the time comes, I’ll tell you.”

Although he knew that the chief knight was one of his loyal and reliable subordinates and that he also knew that Nana and Anna were witches, but Roland still chose to hide the presence of Nightingale from him, because the difference between her and the other two witches was that she didn’t belong to their side. She only stayed in Border Town because of Anna. She belonged to the Witch Association Cooperation, and would sooner or later leave this town.

Carter gave a salute and retired.

Roland could understand his thoughts. As a person well versed with the sword, Carter constantly practiced a training program that was produced from summarizing and accumulating fighting techniques for hundreds of years, and in truth they were proud of their heritages. But when he saw the scene in the warehouse, he couldn’t believe it and began to have doubts – if sword play could be perfected to such a state, of which heritage were they normally so proud of?

“I thought you would tell me to come out,” Nightingale revealed herself. She was still sitting on the corner of his desk, with crossed legs.

“I also thought about it. How about it? You can just settle down here as my hidden sword. You will get two gold royals as monthly salary, the double of what Anna gets. What do you think?” Roland began to advise it further “You will get a house with a garden, two days off each week, and even paid leave every year – uh, that’s it, the rest would only be a monetary reward.”

To his surprise, Nightingale didn’t flatly refuse him. She only smiled and said neither yes or no, „I cannot abandon my companions, no matter what.”

“That would be now, but when the winter is over, Border Town will begin a time of reconstruction. And at that time, how many people will still care about it. And then… the witches will no longer have to suffer discrimination while walking in the streets. No one will see you as the devil’s spokesperson.”

“And so on… You are always talking about it,” said Nightingale indifferently.

It was time to stop. It was always better to see than to hear. This kind of thing could only be changed slowly. Roland changed the subject, “Nana has been safely sent back, right?”

“Ah yes, but she got spooked.”

Roland sighed, it couldn’t be helped, after all, it was midnight when she had been woken up by Nightingale. When she was brought to the scene and saw the battle place, she almost threw up. Nightingale gave him a short account about the things which happened, and then he told her to get Nana. Usually, Nana had to only heal chickens. But now, when the little girl saw people covered in blood, she immediately fainted. After a short while, she woke up and began to heal the person from the town patrol with her face full of tears.

In order to keep Nana’s family in the dark, Nightingale was also responsible for taking her back.

When everything was settled, it was almost daybreak.

“How was the investigation? Could you figure out which of my good brothers or sisters sent them?”

Nightingale shook her head, “They were all people of your own patrol, with only one exception, but he also didn’t carry any identity-related evidence with him. With enough money, anyone could hire them. But I think that this perhaps isn’t related to your siblings.”

“Why?”

“Because it was extremely unorganized. During multiple occasions, the team actually had a lot infighting. And immediately after their failure they didn’t commit suicide, leaving at least two people alive. And then, they had no professional performance. In general, they were just street punks. This is unlike the style of your brothers and sisters, it is more likely that it was a layman’s plan. I think that even if I wasn’t here there was no way their assassination attempt would have succeeded. Don’t forget that Anna is sleeping downstairs. ”

Nightingale reached for Roland’s cup, she didn’t seem to care about drinking from the same cup as him, and then said, “No matter what, your knight had asked for the truth of what happened in the sewers, and I bet he will soon know the truth – compared with the former piece of your sister, that guy is much less professional. If I hadn’t left, he would still kneel before me begging me to not to kill him.”

“That seriously injured patrol member, it seems that he is the one I summoned not too long ago.”

“Really?” Nightingale tilted her head, “I think that you’ll have to reward him. If he hadn’t stood up against the other guys, I would not have found them so quickly and they would have slipped into the basement of the castle. Although it is still not clear why he did that, but the enemy’s enemy is our friend, right? ”

Yes, Roland thought, but the important part was not if he is a friend or foe, but rather that Nightingale said the two words.

– “Our friend.“
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32 The Knigh

Chapter 132 The Knight of the Elk Family (Part 1)

Prius had already been locked up for five days.

Although it couldn’t be called a cell, after the transformation, there was not much difference between the former house and a cell – the original wooden doors were replaced by wooden railings, all the furniture had been removed from the house, and only a few blankets were left. The only advantage compared to a cell was that the room was clear and that it had neither holes for draught nor rain.

In addition to Prius, there were four other prisoners. Three of them belonged to the house of the former Duke, the other belonged to the Wolf Family, and Prius himself belonged to the Elk Family.

“What the hell, he really wants to lock us up in here!” Shouted one of the Duke’s Knights, who belonged to the oldest people who have taken part in the battle, “The wheat on the fields in my territory haven’t even been sown yet! And my woman doesn’t know how to manage everything.”

“Your territory?” asked the young knight of the Wolf Family with a lot of contempt in his voice, “Do you really believe that the Prince will let you keep your rank as a knight? Even letting you keep your Horse, Armor, and weapons so that you can start your revenge whenever you feel like? Really, as long as he doesn’t send us to the gallows, he can still be considered as a kind person.”

“What did you just say!?” The old knight stared furiously at him.

“To tell you the truth,” the young knight explained further, ”The Duke did indeed plan to start a rebellion against the throne in doing so becoming a first-rate convict, taking all of his elite knights with him, and only letting a few stand by the side of his son. As for us, we would naturally be forced by the Duke to follow him onto the battlefield.”

“I see that you would really like to die now!” Hearing him talk like this the old knight suddenly went over, picking the young knight and lifting him up, while at the same time clenching his right hand into a fist, already going through the motion to hit him, but suddenly his hand was firmly grasped from behind.

“Stay your hand, Halon. Do you want that the guards come over?” the fist was grasped by a young handsome knight, “What he said is right, we were knights under the command of the Duke, so if we are to be convicted we are likely to be sentenced to a heavy punishment. Just look at the Knight of the Elk Family, he is waiting calmly for the result, and now look at how you are acting. Do you think you’re showing the right kind of demeanor?

Prius could immediately recognize this man, he was the star of all of the Longsong Stronghold’s knights, Ferlin Eltek, also nicknamed Morning Light. He had captured the hearts of many aristocratic families’ young ladies. However, after coming around, he finally settled down and married a civilian, creating a lot of heated discussions. After being mentioned, Prius decided that now wasn’t the time to stay quiet, so he said to them: “I don’t know what will happen to your territories, but I’m certain that the Prince won’t kill us.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“If he had killed us all in the stronghold, he would have achieved a deterrent effect, but after spending so much effort to bring us to Border Town, why should he kill us here? To impress the civilians?” Prius shook his head, “During the battle, we weren’t even able to set one foot inside the town.”

As long no one attacked them, burning down and looting their houses, the town’s people naturally wouldn’t have any extreme hatred against them. Therefore, since the Prince didn’t kill them during their stay in the stronghold, he also wasn’t likely to kill them here in Border Town.

After thinking about this for a moment, the knight called Eltek nodded in confirmation, “What you said makes sense. May I have your name, please, mister…?”

“Prius Dessau.”

“Thank you for your encouraging words, Sir Dessau.” After he expressed his thanks, Ferlin grasped Halon by his arm and took him back to another corner.

The young knight of the Wolf Family also sat back down, and leaning against the wall and began to hum.

He really doesn’t seem to be afraid of it, Prius thought, but my staying “calm”, isn’t anything other than a facade.

Prius knew that he wasn’t made out of the things needed to be a knight. He did not inherit his father’s bravery, nor his mother’s wisdom, and instead of training with the sword he had always preferred to take care of their territory. Raising chicken and ducks, fishing in the pond or doing anything else similar to this. As a knight for the Elk Family, he was really a helpless case, not to mention killing someone, he didn’t even like to participate in hunting. So, during their charges against the defenders of Border Town, Prius had always kept as far to the back as possible, never expecting to come into a situation where he had to retreat for his life.

Hold on… when he thought about the battle he got the feeling that there was something wrong, as the star of the Duke’s Knight, why was Eltek still able to stay alive? Shouldn’t he have been the first line in leading the charge?

“His Royal Highness wants to see you,” a guard suddenly shouted by the door, “Sirius Daly, you’re the first to come with me.”

Hearing his name a young knight jumped up, waved once to say goodbye to the others and left the cell.

“Hey, we also want to go!”

Seeing that one of them was allowed to leave Halon also chased to the door, only to be stopped by the blunt end of the guard’s weapon. After locking the door, he turned once more into the direction of the prisoner and coldly said, “Do not worry, it won’t be long before it will be your turn.”

Knowing that it was soon time for his own trial, with each passing minute Prius became more and more tense.

Damn it, previously the day of the trial couldn’t come along fast enough for me, but now that the day has finally arrived, I’ve become afraid. Prius thought angrily. But he couldn’t stop his body from shaking from time to time. Every few moments he would look towards the door, feeling the same as if his first child was soon to be born, feeling hope and panic at the same time.

Fortunately, the waiting time wasn’t all that long, probably only half an hour had passed before the guard responsible for escorting the prisoners came again, “Prius Dessau, it’s your turn.”

Panic-stricken he jumped up, but his feet accidentally tripping about one of the blankets laying on the floor, but Eltek seeing that just took a step forward and supported him, stopping him from falling down.

” Th-thank you.” Prius pressed the words out of his parched throat.

“It’s nothing much.” Said his helper with a soothing voice, taking away a lot of Prius’ tension.

He nodded once more thankfully in Ferlin’s direction and then followed the guard out of the cell.

Leading the way was a young man, who was about seventeen years old, was wearing a dark brown leather armor and boots while holding a strange weapon in his hands.

“Don’t you need to tie my hands together?” Prius asked confused.

“When we locked you up you were already searched thoroughly, so what can you even do without a weapon?”

“Where are you going to take me?”

“To His Highness’s Castle.”

“What’s happened to the previous man? The knight, how is he?”

The guard just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t give him an answer.

Well, maybe he doesn’t know what happened to him, or it is also possible that he just doesn’t want to tell me. When it became clear that he wouldn’t get another answer, Prius just closed his mouth.

Prius had a very strange feeling as he looked at his escort. The guard dressed and looked like an ordinary civilian, but when he just spoke to the knights he didn’t show even a trace of fear, he wasn’t even using the most basic form of honorifics. He seems to not understand, that during peacetime, we knights can easily decide his life and death.

But there was also the expression in his eyes – Prius had looked into the eyes of many people who were always fighting to survive, their eyes were all stiff and indifferent, just like the eyes of a soulless corpse, but in this young man’s eyes, he saw arrogance and pride. It was obviously that he was a civilian, but he was showing the same prideful demeanor as a full-fledged knight. This extreme incongruity confused Prius to the extreme.

In the end, what kind of environment was needed in order to give birth to such a person?

While walking, Prius viewed his surrounding, although he had never been to Border Town before, he had still heard about what a barren and desolate place it was. But the vibrancy he felt from the town, stood on the complete opposite end of the image he had previously formed of it. Everywhere on the streets there were people coming and going, always moving at a fast pace, giving the impression as if everyone was busy. From time to time, there were other people dressed in the same way as the young man escorting him. Everyone’s face was rosy, full of spirit, and not a bit like people who had just experienced the ordeal of the Months of Demons.

Close to the castle district, he saw an area where more than 100 people had gathered together – it seems this group of people were responsible for the construction of residential houses, but looking at the scale it seemed that they were building more than one. The materials they needed to build the houses were neatly accumulated on the side and within them, there were also plenty of fired bricks.

In general, only the aristocracy would choose to use this more expensive material, but assuming that the building was supposed for a noble, the area built was just too small for nobility. Looking at an already previously built house, he discovered that it was only as large as his family’s drawing room. In addition, all those houses were built with the same design, which aristocracy would like such houses?

With his head filled with questions, Prius entered the Lord’s Castle.
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33 The Gunpowder

"Everyone stands up. Prince Roland is coming." They had not rested for 15 minutes when Iron Axe clapped and yelled.

Van'er soon returned to his position; the previous special training caused him to have reflexes towards conforming commands. Almost subconsciously, he held up his wooden pole and assembled himself in the preparation posture for thrusting.

Prince Roland and his retinues walked upon the city wall and passed the troop from behind. Through the corner of his eyes, Van'er noticed that His Highness slowed down when passing himself.

Roland groaned in his heart. It was truly the axiom that "getting up late will ruin your morning while getting up early will ruin your whole day." He just finished dealing with the aftermath of the raid on the castle, and then he had to come to inspect the recent training results of the Militia. The poor guy did not sleep all night, and now he was sleepy. But he had to come, for the team had been in the training stage. As the commander, his prolonged absence would lead to a diminished sense of existence and the morale of his team would also become unstable.

[Umm... What do people usually say when inspecting the troop?] Roland pondered for a moment. "Hi, comrades! Good job, comrades! If nobody responded, it would be very awkward after I called out that phrase. Or perhaps it'll be better to have casual conversations with someone. That would help me to express my kindness and also raise my reputation."

He thought to implement his plan and patted a muscular young fellow on the back.

"You were laborious. Did you feel tired? Did you like the meals?"

Depended on the past experiences from reading the news, Roland was expecting the young fellow to answer his questions with a loud and excited response such as "Not tired at all, I feel excellent!" However, the young fellow was so excited that he immediately knelt down on his knee after he turned to Roland, which surprised Roland quite a bit.

Van'er felt that he was being blessed by the heaven that Prince Roland was asking him if he was tired with the training in such a kind tone. Not to mention the royal family, even the ordinary nobles were normally reluctant to talk to plebeians. Almost by reflex, he imitated knight's salutation to honor Prince Roland. He did not care whether if he was appropriate to do such practice. Van'er only had one thought in his mind that after he returned to his hometown, he would be regarded as a substantial figure.

Van'er felt the chaos in his mind after Roland asked him to stand up. Van'er could not even remember how he replied to Roland's questions.

At last, His Highness asked if Van'er had any opinions about the training. Van'er suddenly cleared his head. [This is a great opportunity! If I could make Your Highness believe that the Militia alone wouldn't be able to bear the responsibility of defending the city walls, then perhaps I won't need to worry about whether to stay or sneak away.]

He carefully cogitated his word choice. "Your... Honorable Highness, the number of the members of the Militia is small. If we continue the current alignment training method, when the demonic beasts attack, we at most can only defend one third of the city wall. Will you consider..."

Even if Prince Roland recruited more members, there would not be enough time for training, Van'er thought. Besides, there would be a huge expense for their weapons. It would be arduous to gather enough spears for 300 members within two months in Border Town. It would be difficult to assemble even a hundred spears, therefore, they were still training with wooden rods.

If Prince Roland could realize that, then perhaps he would recruit mercenary from other towns as the primary defense force. At least the mercenary would be able to go on the battlefield without training. They would have their own weapons and armors, except that the price would be a bit high.

Roland pondered for a moment and nodded. "You have good points. It's unrealistic to have the Militia alone guard entire city wall."

Van'er felt delighted. His Highness meant... to agree with his thoughts?

However, Prince Roland did not say what Van'er was expecting to hear. Instead, he called Iron Axe. "In a sense, demonic beasts are just mutated beasts and that they don't have the ability to think, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness. The normal demonic beasts are no different from those wild beasts, and even their habits are almost the same... As for the demonic hybrids, I haven't seen many so I'm not sure."

"That'll be okay. Even though it's almost 600 meters from the Redwater River to the foot of North Slope Mountain, we can lure the demonic beasts to attack the specific areas."

"You mean setting up traps?" Iron Axe asked.

"It's a trap, but not the kind that hunters would typically use. Standard traps capture preys by concealing themselves. Well, I want to do the opposite. I'll set up roadblocks from places far away from the city wall, such as fences, earth slopes, ditches to force the unintelligent demonic beasts to detour. The continuous roadblocks will lead the preys to assigned locations, and at the end gather at the defense area that we prepared." Roland looked at the Iron Axe. "As for how to lure those beasts, I think no one knows better than you do."

Iron Axe thought for a moment. "It'll be fine to guide then, and demonic wolves don't like water, demonic boars are afraid of light, and all the other demonic beasts have their own habits. But Your Highness, in this way, we'll have all the demonic beasts gathered within this area of 600 feet, wouldn't that be too dangerous?"

"It's true if we only have spears and arrows as the weapon," Roland said confidently, "but now, we have a new weapon."

When it was about the time to leave, the prince once again came to Van'er and patted on his shoulder. "You have a good observation. What's your name?"

"Van-Van'er, Your Highness."

"I'll propose to my chief knight to appoint you as the Deputy Force Commander of the Spear Squad. Mr. Van'er, I'm looking forward to seeing your more achievements."

*******************

Roland built a flat house in the yard of the firing room to produce snow powder—in other words, the gunpowder.

This 300-square-meter house only had one entrance and was heavily guarded. There were two knights guarding the entrance. To prevent anyone from bringing flammables to the room, all visitors were required to register and go through the security check.

"This is the new weapon that you talked about?" Carter, who was summoned by Roland, pinched the black powder with his fingers, and sniffed it. "Isn't it the snow powder?"

Perhaps Iron Axe did not know, but Carter often attended the royal ceremonies, and of course, he knew that snow powder was something that people place in the ceremonial barrels. It was the proudest production of the alchemical workshop and its prescription was a confidentiality to outsiders. However, the prince could get whatever he wanted.

"It's snow power, but not entirely the same," Roland said, "and it's the newest modified product of the alchemical workshop. I call it the gunpowder."

Gunpowder was known as the secret weapon for mass production. Its ingredients were easily accessible. The prescription required three ingredients: sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter. Gunpowder would be made by just mixing these three ingredients at a 1:1.5:7.5 ratio. It could be easily produced without any technical barriers.

The snow powder in this age consisted of 60% of charcoal, 20% of sulfur and saltpeter, and 20% of other bizarre, inferior ingredients (such as mercury, butter, honey, etc.). It could not function as gunpowder due to its slow combustion speed and insufficient gas release. However, Roland knew that the alchemists were trying to test other prescriptions. In at most 30 years, a prescription similar to the standard gunpowder prescription would be developed.

In history, after the invention of gunpowder, it still took a long time for people to forgo the usage of cold weapons. The reason rooted in the prescription of gunpowder and also the stagnation of the related armament manufacture industry.

However, many people overlooked the fact that gunpowder itself could be an extremely formidable weapon even without relying on firearms.

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34 The Trial Blasting

Right when the firing room for cement was built, Roland had already assigned labs for the several follow-up projects. Most of the labs were being built around the North Slope Mine area so that the labs could be efficiently guarded—the construction of the labs was speedy due to their simple composition of adobe walls and wooden roofs. And their construction would not intervene with the construction of the city wall.

The saltpeter purchased from Willow Town was delivered to the nearby warehouse to be stored. It would be ground, measured, and sent to the labs when it was time to use them. Charcoal and sulfur would go through the same process. The transport and mixture of the three ingredients would be completed by different groups of people. This way, Roland could eliminate the risk of the plan being leaked out.

Roland took 20 pounds from the pre-made gunpowder, and slowly poured it onto a cropped sheepskin.

The gunpowder all went through the process of soaking, compressing, drying, grinding, and screening. They were all in similar sizes and extremely inflammable. To prevent any accidents due to the collision of sparks, the entire manufacturing process did not use any metal products. Instead, they used ceramics or wooden products.

After pouring the gunpowder, Roland folded the sheepskin to three folds and tied it with string.

"That's all I need to do?" Carter asked. This object in front of him could also be called a weapon? Although it was the modified version of the snow powder, it would not do any damage just by its loud noise. Perhaps it would be effective to farmers who had never been to the battlefield, but it certainly would not frighten the trained soldiers and mercenaries. However... the chief knight pondered cautiously, although the things that His Highness had been doing seemed unreasonable, they all turned out to be extremely efficient. If the demonic beasts had similar intelligence to ordinary beasts, perhaps this gunpowder thing would actually work? For example, a sudden loud noise could make them flee in startle. That way, the stress on the troop could be lessened.

Roland gave the wrapped up gunpowder to Carter and took a bag of the inflammable gunpowder that had been ground. "It's almost the time, let's head to the outside of the city wall. Iron Axe should already be prepared."

About two miles from the city wall to the west, the vacant space between Misty Forest and the Impassable Mountain Range would be the area to do the trial blasting.

Iron Axe and the other hunters had already been waiting here for a long time. Besides Iron Axe, everyone was local and also the ones with the best archery skills. Hearing that Prince Roland had a mission to assign them, they immediately followed Iron Axe over.

Everyone knew now that the new Lord of Border Town was generous about giving remunerations.

Following Roland's command, they set up long wooden poles on the four corners, tied up strings, and enclosed a watch circle for half of a mile. Roland assigned knights to scout near the city wall in case anyone approached by accident.

Roland examined around the watch circle, and nodded. "Did you bring all the preys?"

"Your Highness, the preys are here." Iron Axe came up with a cage. Carter noticed the hens and rabbits in the cage.

"Very well, put them on 5 steps, 10 steps, 15 steps, and 30 steps away from the center and tie one on every wooden pole."

Carter shook his head and suggested, "Your Highness, I'm afraid the preys you selected could hardly have any test effect. These animals are timid by nature. They will flee if there're any noises nearby. Even if the noise could scare them, but it wouldn't be able to startle the demonic beasts."

"To startle the demonic beasts?" Roland paused for one moment and realized. "I'm not planning to scare them, even though this thing is astonishing when it explodes."

Roland brought the chief knight to the center of the circle, dropped off a bag of gunpowder, and tore an opening in the bag to allow some powder to leak out. Then Roland pulled out the leather bag with gunpowder, and continued to sprinkle the gunpowder from the opening while stepping backward.

It was a windless day, perfect for such a primordial explosive method.

Roland retrieved the leather bag only when they retreated to 100 meters away.

"That's enough, let's ignite it here." He repeatedly estimated the distance, making sure it was errorless, and then said to Carter, "Bring all the hunters here."

At this moment, Roland was quite excited. He had done a smaller scale of the explosion test so he was not that concerned with the outcome of the experiment. What he really cared about was that this moment would be a moment of great invention. The thermal weapon would officially step on the stage and Roland would be recorded into history as the chief leader.

After everyone gathered, Roland ignited the gunpowder.

Carter lay on the ground. He felt uneasy as he watched the spark furthering away.

With such a long distance, plus it was not even put in the bronze barrel, the exploding noise of snow powder might not even be reached here. It was unnecessary for Prince Roland to demand that everyone had to lie on the ground. However, there was nothing left to say since Prince Roland took the lead himself.

The ground was freezing cold during winter. Carter could felt the chill even if he was wearing chain armor. Carter moved a bit; an astonishingly loud sound broke out as he was about to lie on his side.

Because the distance was too close, the exploding noise and the shock arrived at the same time. He felt a sudden buzzing in his ears and the world became quiet. The shaking of the ground continued momentarily. He lifted up his head and saw a black cloud rising into the air, followed by the falling of stones and mud.

The shock that Roland received was much less than the chief knight's. As someone that would cover his ears even for firecrackers, Roland promptly prepared protection for himself. The explosive point was unlike in movies, where there would be huge fireballs; the glaring light of flame flashed, multitudes of mud were blasted off the ground, reaching a height of 10 meters in the air. When everything settled down, the only thing that Roland felt was this noise was much louder than firecrackers.

Regarding Iron Axe and the other hunters, they were flabbergasted by what they just saw and heard. Only Iron Axe knew that this experiment was to test a new weapon, but he also did not expect the momentum of the weapon to be so groundbreaking.

Only the thunder of God's Punishment could be comparable to this!

Roland stood up. He led the group to the center of the explosion. There was a half-meter deep hole on the ground. The bunny that was closest to the center had utterly disappeared, leaving only a short stake on the ground.

Roland examined every other prey. The hens that were placed on the 10 step point and 15 step point were lying on the ground, apparently dead. Although there were no physical damages on them, Roland knew that they died of the shock from the explosion.

The only survivor was the gray bunny that was placed on the 30 step (about 15 meters) point. There were drops of blood from its ear, and it even gave up struggling when people walked near it. It seemed like that the massive blast of the explosion had deprived its soul.

Carter swallowed. The buzzing in his ears was gradually recovering. Until now, he finally understood what Prince Roland meant by "not planning to scare them away." Was that the outcome of the modification of snow powder? With such accomplishment, the power of alchemists would be much superior to the power of astrologers.

The way Iron Axe looked at Roland had changed. "Your Highness, if the Militia could utilize such a weapon, then Border Town would no longer be threatened by the demonic beasts. Could this weapon be mass produced?"

Roland shrugged. "Probably not, we would only be able to produce 20 to 30 of them before the Months of Demons." The key issue was the saltpeter. The manufacture in this age was still quiet primordial. The only way of manufacturing was to collect the nitric acid crystals separated out by the lime mixture of human and livestock' waste. Other than the alchemists and the upper nobles that had a demand, there was almost no other uses. So there were few refining fields, if they were all used to do explosives, they would soon be exhausted.

As the ultimate weapon, it had to be used along with flintlock and crossbow bolts.

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35 The Home

Nightingale walked in the Mist.

In it, she could see the world had only two colors, black and white.

The outline of all things turned vague, and the lines that used to be straight were folded, and curved, as incomprehensible and abstract as doodles painted by children.

The feeling was hard to get a sense of, and it took her a long time to distinguish the different types of lines. If she handled them well, there was nothing that would restrain her, and she could travel unimpeded in the Mist. Though the wall seemed to link up into one stretch, with a little change of the angle, she could see a gate to the real world, a gate that never existed in reality.

In the Mist, the concepts of up, down, forward, and backward were not consistent, and they would shift and even overlap. Now she did this again and sneaked into the castle under guards' noses, following the changeable lines. Step by step through the void, she went through the ceiling and entered Anna's chamber.

For Nightingale, it was an absolutely free world.

The Mist was the only place where she truly felt at peace. Quiet and lonely as it may be, she enjoyed the safe, unthreatened feeling it gave her.

Mostly, it was black and white, but sometimes she could see other colors.

Such as the color of Anna who was in front of her.

Different from ordinary people, the witches were an aggregate of magic power which was the only color in the Mist, and Nightingale could see how the power flowed and faded.

However, she had never seen colors as strong and rich as Anna's. There was a dark green light glittering on her that led to a dazzling bright white core. Nightingale was confused. Generally, the color of magic power was connected to the owner's performance of ability, and for the witches that she knew in the Witch Cooperation Association who had the power to control fire, the light that shone out of them was dark red or orange and shaped like a fireball. Whether in size or radiance of light, Anna's fire was far above theirs.

In addition, there was something even more miraculous.

How was she still alive with so much powerful energy converging on her?

Of all the witches in the Witch Cooperation Association, no one had power as strong as Anna, not even the adults. And when Anna became an adult...

Nightingale sighed. She knew that Anna no longer had any hope. The bite grew with power, and she was afraid to even imagine what horror would come to Anna when the Demonic Torture began. She knew the feeling too well. From your skin to your guts, the constant sharp pain tore at you, keeping you conscious until the moment you gave up and accepted death.

Stepping out from the Mist, she restrained the depressed mood and braced herself up, greeting, "Good morning, Anna."

Anna, who had been used to Nightingale's abrupt and uninvited visits, nodded. She did not reply but continued practicing with her fire.

Rubbing her nose, Nightingale headed to the girl's bed and sat down.

She had seen Anna practice many times, from the beginning when she set fire to her own robes accidentally and had prepared a full bucket of robes in a shed in the backyard garden till later when she could easily make the flame dance on her fingertip, and Roland had to dismiss the supervision and take down the shed to make room for afternoon tea and sunbath.

Even so, Anna still followed the old instruction of Roland and kept practicing two or four hours every day in her own chamber.

"I've brought some fish cake, do you want some?" Nightingale took out a little bag and unfolded it, handing it over.

Anna smelled it and nodded.

"Go and wash your hands." Nightingale smiled, feeling lucky that Anna did not hate her but was simply bad at talking. In fact, Anna barely even talked to Nana who she cared about so much. She scarcely talked to anyone except Roland.

In contrast, Roland talked too much of his endless principles. Even for dinners, he had many rules, like washing hands before eating, eating slowly, and never putting anything that dropped on the floor into your mouth, etc. He could go on and on about every principle.

Though Roland's sermon sounded annoying to her at first, she had to listen and obey because Roland, the fourth Prince of Graycastle and the lord of this land, had accommodated her under his roof. Now, she actually formed those habits and somehow, felt a sense of odd fun when competing with Roland and Nana to be the first one to wash hands.

Anna washed her hands in a pail and lit a little fire to dry them before she pinched a fish cake and returned to her table and ate it slowly.

"Did you really make up your mind not to return with me?" said Nightingale, trying to start a conversation. "We have a lot of sisters there and they would take care of you."

"Over here, the castle is the only place you can stroll and roam. It's quite boring, isn't it?"

"Indeed we don't have much food or goods, but we're a family having joined together for the same purpose."

"A girl like you who has such power will be most welcome."

"I'm afraid that you'll not make it through this winter..."

Nightingale's voice lowered. "Maybe it's too late," she thought. Even if she went back to the camp, Anna's power was so strong that she would never survive the adulthood. All Nightingale could do was to watch her die.

"Where did you live before joining the Witch Cooperation Association?" Anna asked.

Nightingale waited for a little while, for Anna barely asked her anything. "I... used to live in a big city in the east, near the capital."

"Were you happy?"

"Happy? No." It was a piece of memory she would never recall. It was when she had to depend on others for a living, being despised and mocked. And things turned worse when she found out she was a witch. She was watched and chained around the neck, just like a cat or dog, forced to follow their commands. Nightingale shook her head and asked softly, "Why are you asking?"

"I used to live in the Old District." Anna briefly went through her story. "My father sold me for 25 gold royals to the church. It was His Highness who released me. I'm very happy here."

"But you cannot get out of this castle. Except for Roland Wimbledon, everyone still hates witches."

"I don't really care about it, and he promised that he would change them all, didn't he?"

"As long as the church stands, witches will always be treated as evil, and that will make the change extremely difficult."

Anna did not contradict her and was quiet for so long that Nightingale thought she would never speak again. Then she asked suddenly, "What place makes you happier to live in, the Witch Cooperation Association or here?"

The question caught Nightingale unprepared, and she was flustered. "What, what're you talking about? O-of course, it's..."

The Witch Cooperation Association? Honestly, she did not have much interest in searching Holy Mountain, but in the association, she had some friends who she would never leave behind.

Border Town? She would not have been here if she hadn't heard the news of endangered witches!

The answer was obvious, so why was she hesitating?

This time, a smile appeared on Anna's face, the smile that Nightingale had hardly seen. Her eyes were as clear as water in the lake twinkling in the early sun, and brought her a feeling of odd relief – even though she did not walk in the "Mist". "Roland used to tell me that you girls are looking for the Holy Mountain among the northern mountains, and I've found mine if it's the safe and home that you want to find there."

Nightingale realized Border Town was Anna's Holy Mountain. However, death was coming upon her, and her spirit would approach the next world earlier than most witches.

There were hurried footsteps outside the door. Listening carefully, Nightingale figured out it was from Nana.

The door was flung open before Nana dashed in.

She ran into Anna's arms, weeping, and said, "Anna, my sister, wh-what should I do? My father has found out I'm a witch."

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36 The Negotiation

Roland was dragged out of bed by Nightingale.

He was taken aback when hearing the news that Nana Pine's father was waiting for him in the hall. But he realized it was a good opportunity—in order to have the girl's support in the fight against the Months of Demons, he must persuade the Pines to spend winter in Border Town.

It had been a tricky situation for Prince Roland, as his reputation and popularity had hit rock bottom among the noble. Even his relations with Longsong Stronghold had turned strained. He would not stand a chance to keep the nobles at Border Town in winter, as their business lay mostly in the east of Longsong Stronghold. From the very beginning, Roland had not thought of cooperating with the nobles, who were good at winning power and possessions, rather than fighting side by side.

He got dressed quickly and briefly cleaned himself, before heading to the hall.

Being left alone for so long that he could no longer hide his rage, Tigui Pine stood up and asked as soon as he saw the prince, "Your Highness, where is my daughter?"

This was the first time Roland saw Nana's father. He was strong and sturdy, not very tall, and had a thick beard that made him tough looking. From his attire of the waisted cotton garment and leather pant attached with big pockets, he looked like more a huntsman than a noble.

"She's fine, Mr. Pine..."

"Why did your guards let her in but yet bar me outside?" Tigui interrupted loudly. "I need an explanation, Your Highness! Please take my daughter to see me!"

Roland did not expect this and got stunned for a little while. He had pictured a scene that a father, who knew that his poor daughter was a witch, would beg his prince to hide the news, or ask him for help to deal with the problem. However, a father who was so pushy and discourteous without his noble manner, did surprise Roland.

Certainly, he knew why the guards allowed Nana in, for they were under his command. They became familiar with Nana who had been coming here for Anna from time to time.

After a moment's thought, he summoned the maid to take Nana here.

[However rude he is, Tigui Pine is Nana's father. Let's see what'll happen when they meet each other. If he has any plans to send the girl to the church or abandon her, I'll intervene and take action,] Roland thought.

Following Anna, Nana stepped in the chamber.

Seeing his daughter, Tigui Pine's anger died away at once. He opened his arms and called Nana, "Come here, my daughter."

The young girl did not move. Hiding behind Anna, she popped out half a head and asked, "Will you sell me to the church?"

"Nonsense... what are you talking about? Silly girl, the church doesn't want a girl as silly as you. Come home with me now."

Roland was confused about what was happening. Nightingale told him that after Nana's father bumped into her when she was doing magic, she ran to the castle for Anna in panic. Her father was after her, his face murderous.

But all he could see from Tigui was how he cared about and loved his daughter, unlike ordinary people who loathed the witches.

[Do I have my facts wrong?]

Roland hesitated for a little while and decided to be frank. "Mr. Pine, I believe you've already known that your daughter is a witch."

"Pardon me, Your Highness, I don't understand," said Tigui, as he stepped over and tried to grasp Nana's hand, but was blocked by Anna.

"Father, I'm a witch now... sorry," Nana whispered.

Tigui became anxious and said, "Nonsense! Witch? Must be the teachings from the damn guy Karl. I shouldn't have sent you to the school because what you've learned is nothing but bullsh*t!"

These words hit Roland's mind, and he realized that all the concealing Tigui had done for Nana might be due to his misunderstanding of him.

Therefore, he was so anxious and worried before seeing Nana.

"Anna." He winked at the witch, and she nodded. She reached out her right hand to Tigui who tried to bypass Anna and get Nana. Fire burst from her palm, flying pass his top.

Tigui's eyes widened, flustering backward to dodge the fire. Nana held Anna's arm in alarm. "Sister Anna, No!"

"Your Highness, what's..."

"As you see, she is also a witch, like your daughter." Roland extended his hand and said, "Maybe you've misunderstood the reason why Nana is free to walk in the castle. Shall we have a real talk now?"

Tigui seemed awakened. "Ha! Ha!" he said, "Your Highness, I..."

"Take a seat." Roland pointed to the table and said, "Let's begin our talk with some nice tea."

He sighed secretly. [Now I see now how notorious my reputation is. They even think I'll put my claw on little girls. Now, I've understood everything from Tigui's ungracious behavior. What will a father, who loves his daughter so much, think when he sees his girl running into the castle where the guards are accustomed to her?

If I'm the father, I'll bring down the castle on my own.]

The words Tigui used to cover up the truth that his daughter was a witch had proved all things clearly—worrying that the prince would threaten him with some excuse that Nana had fallen into depravity, and only cleansing could save her. He personally did not care much about whether his baby daughter was a witch or not.

Tigui hesitated for a long while before taking the seat. He drank up a cup of tea, dried his lips with his sleeves, looked awkward, and said, "My apologies, I've been rude. Please tell me when did you know my daughter was a... witch?"

"It was before winter, and it was not me but her teacher Karl Van Bate who found her awakened. He entrusted me to protect Nana because of Anna, his friend." Roland explained explicitly. "In this half month, she came to the castle to practice her power when she was available. By the way, she has the power to heal."

"Has she?" Tigui scratched his head and said, "That was why the cat started to run and skip again."

"Cat?"

"Er... Nothing special. When I came back home, I found her sitting on porch and carrying a cat wounded by a carriage. I was about to scare her from her back, but when she spotted me, she ran away immediately. The cat had broken legs, but suddenly it recovered." He gazed at Nana and Anna and asked, "You two are friends?"

Nana nodded quickly before Anna could make any response.

Tigui's face turned gentle.

Seeing this, Roland asked, "It seems that you don't trust the rumor that the witches are the evils seduced by the demon."

"Certainly, my daughter is no evil!" he said firmly, "and whatever she turns into, there's no doubt about that."

Roland was touched by Nana's father who was much different from Anna's father. He finally understood the reason why Nana was always so sweet and innocent, wearing a smile on her face almost every day. This family was like a warm cradle for a kid to grow up in.

"I have no doubt either, Mr. Pine." The prince was straightforward. "Your daughter has a marvelous power to heal the wounded. I hope she'll stay in Border Town, assisting me to fight through the Months of Demons."

Tigui was indecisive. "Your Highness, forgive me, I have no choice but to refuse. When the Months of Demons come, Border Town will be deadly dangerous, and I'd never allow her to stay in danger."

[Tigui Pine's land is beyond Border Town's governance, I can't command him directly even in the name of a prince.] Still, Roland believed that nothing was impossible when they were willing to sit down and talk.

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37 Tigui Pine“s Family History

"Danger is relative, Mr. Pine, yet opportunity comes with danger," Roland said, as he read over the relevant materials collected by his assistant minister in his mind. "You inherited the title from your father, am I right? He had been a knight and was rewarded the name and land for his valor in battle."

"Exactly," Tigui said, nodding.

"The battle also started in the Months of Demons, and it was an honorable battle fought for the innocent. At that time, a small number of demonic beasts accidentally crossed our stronghold defense through the Redwater River into the hinterland of the Western Region. Your father came across those beasts when he was in his patrol duty. Considering that the town behind him had no fortifications, though it was not in his governance, he chose to attack the beasts. Rather than avoiding and retreating for support, which most man would have done under the same circumstances," Roland stated, watching Tigui. "I believe you're clearer about what happened afterward than me. Together with the men who he gathered in town and his squire, your father marched on the beasts and defeated them."

"Indeed," Tigui said, his voice trembled with excitement, apparently admiring this glorious history. "One of the monsters, dreadfully huge, looked like either a stage or an ox or the combination of both. Its leg was thicker and sturdier than my father's trunk and shook the ground when it ran. I could never defeat this kind of monster if I were there."

"But he did it. Standing near a shallow groove, my father lured the angry beast to him, and when it sped up to strike, he lay down in the shallow groove, holding the sword on a stone with the tip right up. The seemingly invincible beast was too foolish to dodge the sword tip which ripped open its belly, and the guts poured out, covering all over my father. By now, above my hearth still hangs the reward from that battle—a large horn from a demonic beast."

Roland drank some tea and said calmly, "The battle was worthy of admiration. Your father had kept his faith, compassion, and bravery of a knight. Joe Kohl, who gave your father the title and the land, was an earl in Longsong Stronghold back then. 25 years ago, he was promoted to a duke by my father, King Wimbledon III. He was appointed as the Guardian of the Southern Border with his governance extending all over the Southern Territory. It was a pity that with no one staying in Longsong Stronghold to back the late Pine. After Joe Kohl had received the new appointment, he became a thorn in the eyes of the Duke of Longs Stronghold, when he stayed at the east of Longsong Stronghold."

"You know it all too well." Tigui exhaled, looking a little helpless. "Lord Joe doesn't get along well with Duke of Longsong Stronghold and didn't obtain his earl's title from the duke, either. With a bloodline tracing back to the branch of the crown, he's not beneath Duke Ryan, whether by family or blood."

"This is politics", Roland thought secretly, a trick played by King Wimbledon III that would balance two powers.

In order to fully understand the complicated relations between these two families, he had spent a whole day with his assistant minister.

The lands and governance among the noble are extremely complicated. In theory, the superiors were able to command juniors within his land. But it turns out that was far more complex to carry out. As we could see from Joe Kohl and Duke Ryan, though having his land in the Western Region, Joe Kohl, who was an earl named directly by the king, was as respected and beloved as Duke Ryan by the subjects.

After Joe had been titled the Duke of the Southern Territory, the crown would surely arrange new spies on his land, which was the usual means to keep political stability.

"Therefore, when the land was passed to you, the trade and farm had turned bad gradually, and the property was no longer as prosperous as it had been," Roland said slowly. "Now, here is a new chance for you."

"A new... chance?"

"I suppose you heard the famine that happened two years ago. Longsong Stronghold detained the food supply of the next month in the name of insufficient ores trading. This year we have the same trouble. The unexpected collapse that happened in the Mine of Northern Slope has backed my people into a corner, and we have to ward off demonic beasts with the help of our newly built city wall. The war will be tough and hard, but yet chances come with danger, as I said before."

"..." Tigui knew what the prince meant. He frowned and said nothing.

"It seems to me that you're not a general noble." Roland smiled. "For no nobles dress like you when they're out and no high-borns get their palms full of horns. Mr. Pine, you haven't left behind your father's legacy, have you? The fighting skill of a knight."

It was certain that he did not leave behind the skill, Roland thought, or he would never spend so much time on the Misty Forest. From the information offered by Barov, he spent at least three days every week in the Misty Forest during his days in Border Town. Each time he was fully equipped and brought hunters with him because he could not afford to keep squires. Some people liked fighting and apparently, Tigui Pine was one of them.

"I'll offer you this chance to win back the honor of your father—to fight for them with your sword and courage. I'll reward you a piece of land in the east of Border Town, an appropriate piece of land for the viscount if you're doing well in battle."

Though it rarely happened, the offer was valid. When a prince had come of age, he had the power to name the viscount, baron, and knight according to law. However, he barely did it to the men who were under other lords' authorities. He was afraid of either being inappropriate to poach from other lords or being awkward to be rejected. But in Roland's eyes, manners meant nothing compared to Nana's healing skill, neither did he worry about being rejected by Mr. Pine. Since Joe did not bring Tigui's father with him when he was the Guardian of the Southern Border, it seemed that Joe had given up the Pines.

Finally, Tigui said, "Your Highness, may I send Nana back to Longsong Stronghold? No one has ever defeated the demonic beasts here, and I don't want my daughter to perish here in case we lose the battle."

"I've told you from the very beginning, Mr. Pine, that the danger is relative. Have you ever thought what if anyone in Longsong Stronghold finds out Nana is a witch? Unlike here, the church has its root deep and long in Longsong Stronghold. With disciples and spies everywhere, I can't even save her, once her identity is revealed."

Roland paused for a moment and added, "Border Town will not fall, for I'll fight with my people side by side on the city wall when the Months of Demons comes. Our enemies are mutated beasts not unbeatable demons. You father defeated them on a plain without any cover, and we have more now, an unsurpassable wall that stands between the beasts and us. If... I mean, if we're truly in danger, I'll send Nana away to secure her safety." He paused. "And Anna, too. I'll prepare a boat on the dock in case. I promise they'll be safe."

"Then... I lay my trust on you, Your Highness," said Tigui Pine, and he stood up and kneeled, his chest straight up and his belly flat, before he saluted the prince with a knight courtesy and pledged. "I'll fight for you."

...

After Tigui and Nana had taken their leave, Anna rolled her eyes to Roland.

"What're you dreaming of?" she said, "I'm not going anywhere."

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38 The Era of Firearms

Iron Axe knew that he was under surveillance.

The hunters involved in the trial blasting were gathered in a two-story building near the castle. Looking through the window, one could see the stone walls enveloping the castle and the guards stationed at the entrance.

It didn't bother him. Rather, he felt that it was reckless for His Highness to send only two guards to watch over them.

Even now, the roar of the trial blasting echoed in his mind. There had never been a weapon that left him in so much shock. In the Southernmost Land, he had witnessed orange fire erupting from within the earth, which burnt for decades. He had also seen the monstrous winds and waves at the Endless Cape... However, those were the immeasurable prestige of the Heavens, the will of the Mother Earth or the Sea God, as well as the iron whip of the deities used to punish all creatures.

Yet His Highness alone had usurped the power of the three gods and obtained God's strength to punish all creatures. His power was still lacking compared to the Heavens' thunderbolts, but it was already in a realm untouchable by mere humans.

If the participants in Iron Sand City proved to be still useful, their tongues would generally be cut off. Of course, that was not the safest practice to keep their secrets. Only the dead would carry their secrets to grave. As for the foreigners, even just the sight of them was considered blasphemy. It was impossible for any of them to assimilate into the core class of the Mojin Clan.

Even though the prince was aware that he was from a different race, he still allowed him to witness the Fire of God's Punishment. The prince even intended for him to form the Hunter Squad. His trust roused Iron Axe's spirits and set his blood boiling.

After being betrayed and framed countless times in Iron Sand City, he fled to the Southern Territory in the Kingdom of Graycastle. But he still suffered discrimination there due to his mixed blood of Sand Nation and Graycastle Nation people. Dispirited, he came to Border Town with the intention to work as a hunter for the rest of his life. Yet he unexpectedly won the prince's favor here.

He had no doubts that this new weapon would pave the way for Roland Wimbledon's victory in the Selection of Crown Prince.

Iron Axe was thrilled to know that he would have an opportunity to serve the future king.

"Everyone, gather downstairs!"

Hearing the shout, Iron Axe looked out. The voice belonged to Carter Lannis, Prince Roland's Chief Knight.

He finished dressing up and hurried downstairs. He walked towards Carter and stood upright in front of him. He had participated in the training of the Militia, so he knew that His Highness favored disciplined and well-organized troops. The other hunters, however, were much slower. The six people spent about half a quarter just to line up.

"The same old place. Follow me." Unconcerned, Carter headed straight to the city wall with everyone.

It was the same site for the trial blasting, but without cordons this time.

Other than Roland, there were four knights with him; all of them Carter's subordinates. Iron Axe noticed that the prince was fiddling with an oddly-shaped long metal stick as he explained something to the knights.

Noticing the arrival of Iron Axe and the others, Roland approached them and asked, "Have you all got used to living in your new place?

"Thank you for your concern, Your Highness." Everyone bowed and answered that their new houses were very comfortable.

Iron Axe thought that the new houses were much better than the old ones. At least, they did not leak. The roofs were not covered with thin straw blankets, but neatly lined with tiles instead.

"That's great." Roland nodded and added, "The current arrangement is for security reasons. You can return to your old houses after the Months of Demons ends. I've also distributed your first month's salaries to your families. You can meet them on weekends, accompanied by guards of course."

"Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness." The hunters' replies were cheerful.

This came as a surprise to Iron Axe. Never mind the law of Sand Nation, even the military management of the Kingdom of Graycastle should not be this lax. Was this His Highness's benevolence towards them? He became a little worried. If the prince wanted to fight for the throne, he must be merciless. That Iron Axe knew all too well, having lived in Iron Sand City.

However, when Prince Roland said that they would test a new weapon based on gunpowder next, Iron Axe immediately threw his worries behind. He stared without blinking at the prince as he showed them two oddly-shaped iron sticks.

"They're called flintlocks," said Roland. "I'll tell you how to use them next."

...

It took Iron Axe only half an hour to learn how to use the new weapons.

Put gunpowder—that was, the black powder which would cause the Fire of God's Punishment—into the barrel, put a lead pill, and poke it until it reached the end. Then pour the gunpowder into the flash pan at the rear, aim at the target, and pull the trigger.

He believed he had a talent for killing and were skilled in all kinds of weapons, whether it was the sword, knife, hammer, axe, or spear. But that was due to years of training and combat experience. To master a weapon in only half an hour, this learning speed could only be comparable to that of the hand crossbow.

The other flintlock was handed to Carter.

Chief Knight was also intrigued by the novel weapon and was unwilling to put it down.

After several rounds of simulations, Roland let them test the power of the weapons with live ammunition. The target was already prepared. It was a plate armor propped up by a wooden stick, held up by two knights standing about 30 feet away.

Following the shooting method the prince demonstrated, Iron Axe and Carter aimed and pulled the trigger.

The loud noise coming from the first fire startled everyone present. Iron Axe was no exception. But very soon, everyone's faces were colored with astonishment.

There was a small hole on the plate armor. The lead shot had cleanly penetrated the thickest part of the armor.

Iron Axe had carefully observed the armor before they began shooting. It was evidently not some shoddy product from a handmade workshop. The mark of the hammer and anvil on the neck showed that it was a standard armor from the Blacksmith Society in the Kingdom of Graycastle. The thickest part of the armor was half the thickness of a finger, strong enough to withstand a direct hit from a crossbow at a close distance. The wiser choice to deal with this kind of armor would be to use a heavy crossbow, war hammer, or halberd.

Therefore, the flintlock was equally easy to operate as the hand crossbow, but far stronger in power. Its loading speed was also equivalent to that of the hand crossbow. As for the accuracy... A target 30 feet away would be nothing.

"Your Highness, the output of this weapon..." Carter said.

"There are only two at the moment. We can produce two more at most until the Months of Demons."

Iron Axe saw that Carter was visibly relieved. He could roughly guess his thoughts. If this weapon could be manufactured easily, it would take only a few days to train a large number of "quick warriors" with the flintlocks. There would be no restriction in age, occupation, or even gender. Even a fragile woman could pose a great threat to the knights.

Although it was not as shocking as Fire of God's Punishment, it was still a good weapon. Iron Axe thought it would be easy to kill the giant pachyderm demonic beasts outside the city wall with this power. If he had a flintlock when he was facing the demonic hybrids back then, the outcome might not have been so pathetic.

At the scene, Roland alone understood the true meaning of this weapon.

With his own hands, he had unveiled the curtains to a firearms war.

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39 The Winter

Chapter 39 The Winter is coming

Roland was standing on the city wall, facing the north. This past month, he repeatedly checked the castle, the mine, and the city walls in a kind of three-point loop. He checked them for every possible detail so that he wouldn’t miss anything.

The militia became very adept at handling their weapons. Due to Carter’s repetitive drills, they were able to stabilize the pike until the Militia Captain loudly gave the command to slash with their pikes.

Standing behind the Militia was the Hunter squad. Every hunter who remained in Border Town and was good with either the bow or the crossbow was incorporated into this squad. These seasoned hunters were the backbone for killing the demonic beasts. Standing only twelve feet away from demonic beasts on the city wall, it was nearly impossible for them to miss their target.

The last line of defense were Iron Axe, Carter, and two hunters from the elite team who were under Iron Axe. The parts manufactured by the blacksmiths were enough to let Anna weld four flintlocks. They would only shoot the flintlocks when a mixed species attacked or the hunters with crossbows were unable to penetrate the skin of the demonic beasts. Their location on the wall wasn’t set, so the four of them had to patrol the whole 200 yard long defense line. If there was a need for them anywhere, they would appear.

As for the explosives, they were kept under heavy protection next to the wall in the warehouse . To keep everyone safe, the gunpowder was stored in its three components, and it would only be put together on the city wall when needed – after all, if the powder detonated at the wrong time, the self-inflicted damage would be even greater than the damage from the demonic beasts. The teeth of the demonic beasts may be able to crush the cement, but if the explosives went off, the whole wall would be destroyed.

So far, Roland had organized two test runs, both including the use of the explosives. Thanks to these two exercises, the militia was used to the loud roars of the explosions and were no longer so scared that they threw their weapons away. The other advantage was that when the defenders discovered that the prince held such incredible weapons in his hands, the team morale suddenly began to skyrocket.

“Your Highness,” Barov tightened his collar, “We have already spent most of the ore income in the last half month, so if the Months of the Demons actually goes on as long as the astrologers have predicted, I fear that the food won’t last till the end of winter.”

“Then I want you to fill up the entire vault,” Roland said without hesitation, “Make another deal with Willow Town and don’t make it the only one. The first steam engine has already been transported to the mine, and the gravel from the collapse has already been completely cleaned up. During the entire winter, we can still get a little yield from the mines. Rough stones are especially in demand. Do not emphasize on price. Instead, sell them as soon as possible so that our wheat and meat storages are always as full as possible.”

Barov nodded, “I’ll give out the orders immediately, Your Highness. Just…”

Seeing the hesitant look on his assistant minister’s face, Roland certainly understood what he wanted to say. “Do not worry, I have already arranged a boat. If the line of defense is broken, I will leave the town immediately.”

“That’s excellent to hear.” said Barov, relieved.

Roland smiled at him and said, “You can go. After all, you have enough to do. I have to look for someone else.”

After Barov left, the Prince slowly stepped onto a watchtower. This place was at the center of the city walls and was their highest point. From here, he could overlook the whole front line, parts of the jungle, and the nearby hills. At such a eight, the wind was blowing quite strongly but Roland didn’t care. Only on this high and open platform could he somewhat calm down and forget the coming war.

“You lied to him,” someone next to him suddenly said, “You don’t intend to leave this town.”

“Life is already so difficult, keeping a few secrets sometimes is good for everyone.”

“You’re talking nonsense and don’t understand the situation. If you already consider the identity of a prince as a difficulty, what would you see us as?” Nightingale emerged out of the fog. “Even if you will not be the king, you still have to live through the five-year-long struggle for the throne because you’re one of the main parties. Compared to worrying about such unimportant matters, you should better accompany Anna. I’m afraid… she doesn’t have much time left. “

For a moment Roland remained silent, “I don’t think that she will die during the Months of the Demons.”

“Why?”

“She said that she will not lose to the devil’s bite,” he paused for a second, “And I believe her.”

“You actually believe what a witch says,” Nightingale shook her head, “but we are cursed by the devil.”

“Are you? Well, I also believe you.”

“……”

*

Brian was wearing his civilian clothes and was standing in front of Greyhound’s tombstone.

He gently stroked the surface of the new stone, it was a pure white stone and on its surface were engraved the words: “In memory of one of the silent heroes of Border Town.”

“Greyhound.”

“I’ve already realized my biggest dream. At the end of the Months of the Demons, His Highness the 4th Prince will hold the canonization ceremony for me. But, I don’t want to sit on the bed waiting for my canonization. My wounds have already healed, so the city wall is the place where I should be. The Months of the Demons is near, and the demonic beasts may be strong, but they will have to go through the line of defense the militia established, and will no longer able to advance. I will also take over your part in defending the town, and brandish my sword in your name. All this will not be the end. Your murderer is still alive… But he will not live much longer, His Highness already promised this to me. The next time I come to you, I’ll bring good news.”

Brian bent down and placed a bouquet of flowers at the gravestone.

“So goodbye, my friend.”

*

“Sister Anna, are you scared?” Nana, who was lying on Anna’s bed, asked her this.

“Afraid of what?”

“The devil’s bite we have to face this winter. I became a witch during the autumn of this year, so it will be the first time I have to face it…”

“Well, the first time,” Anna thought, “will be very painful, and sometimes you think that you can’t wait any longer and wish that you could finally die.”

“Ah!” Nana began to shout out of shock, but she immediately covered her mouth.

“But you will survive, just like me.”

“I do not know…” whispered Nana, “I’m not like you, so strong, and afraid of nothing.”

“I’m not really that strong,” said Anna as she closed her eyes. The scene when she met Roland for the first time emerged in her mind. Down there in the cold and dark dungeon, Roland’s clothes were draped over her body. He softly said that he would hire her – until now, she still got goosebumps when remembering this. “Sometimes you will encounter situations or things that will give you the will to live on, even if you need to struggle hard to survive.”

“Such as…?”

“For example,meat marinated in soy paste,” Anna sighed, “How should I know what you dream of? – Ah”

Seeing that Nana was entirely staring at her, Anna wiped her face with her hand, “What are you looking at? Is there some dirt on my face?”

“No …” Nana shook her head, “I’m just a bit surprised, you’ve never talked to me so much … Sister Anna, the appearance you had when you just closed your eyes and thought about the past, you were so beautiful.”

Anna rolled her eyes, jumped out of the bed, and went to the window.

Nana followed directly behind her, “What are you looking at, do you want to flee into the forest?”

“The forest is in the West,” answered Anna snappily, “Here you can only see the Shishui River.”

“Sister Anna, look!” The little girl pointed at the sky.

Anna was startled, then opened her window. A surge of wind mixed with little snowflakes came into the room.

She held out her hand, catching the flower-like sparkling snow. She could feel a chill coming from her fingers.

“It’s snowing.”

*

“……”

After long silence, Nightingale opened her mouth and began to speak once more, “You actually didn’t lie.”

“Of course,” Roland laughed, “I had very little reason to lie.”

Nightingale said nothing. She only tilted her head, and an unknown look emerged in her eyes.

Suddenly, she felt something cold on her neck, and she couldn’t help herself from shrinking away. She looked up only to find that unbeknownst to her, the snow had begun to fall on the walls. Under the gray sky, there seemed to be an uncountable number of snowflakes. They danced in the wind, flying all over the place, accompanied by the shouts of the militia.

…The Months of the Demons had begun.
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40 A Family Letter

The firewood burned, but Gerald Wimbledon felt little heat.

The tent was large and made from leather, with its bottom rim running flush to the ground. There should be no air leakage. Nevertheless, he still felt cold, especially his toes, which were frozen almost to the point of being numb.

"Even your piss will freeze in this damned place." He spat and stood up, placing his hands on either side of the table, with the veins on his hands bulging as he lifted upwards and the six-square-foot, solid wooden table was lifted off the ground.

Releasing the table near the edge of the fire, Gerald felt a wave of comfort. He took off his shoes and put his feet over the fire to warm himself. Then he unrolled some parchment, and continued to write the unfinished letter.

"Dear Olivia,

I've been in Hermes for more than a month, even though the men in the church like to call it the 'New Holy City'. Were it not for the Agreement on the Months of the Demons, I still wouldn't wish to stay here. All I want is to return to your home and share a warm bed with you.

Thanks to the agreement, the corps monitoring the church became their allies. Very ironic, isn't it? Speaking of the church, I have to admit that what they have done is truly amazing. 20 years ago, Hermes was nothing but mountains and stones, and the church's towns lay at the bottom of the mountain. But now they have paved the way for carriages to go up the mountain, and have also built a large fortress city at the top of the hill.

If it were summer, you should have come with me to see this place. The so-called New Holy City is even more magnificent than Graycastle. And do you remember the theatre in Graycastle? We went together and saw Hamlet. Then you sighed with emotion about how clever the theater was, and the interior was so spacious.

But if you see the Hall of Military Affairs in New Holy City, you'll find that the theater in Graycastle isn't even comparable. I would consider it to be an exquisite work of art instead of a building. Even though the theater is so large, it doesn't have even one pillar to support it. Rather, eight things like demon's bones stretch out to the outer walls. Then, many branches and hemp rope are attached to these curved bones, and the roof is suspended in the air. How did they figure it out?

And as for those bones, if they were in fact taken from demonic beasts, then the demonic beasts must have been more than 33 meters tall. Only in Hermes would one encounter such a creature. But my dear, please don't fear. Even if the demonic beasts are huge, they are no more than minions of demons. And no evil can escape the sanctions of God, neither demonic beasts, witches or demons themselves. Rather, they'll turn to ashes."

At this point, Gerald Wimbledon put down his pen, and shook his tingling hands. It was weird that he felt relaxed swinging around a 15-pound, two-handed sword all day, while he felt tired when he wrote for a short time. He laughed at himself, "I'm really suitable for some rough work."

Speaking of demons, I suddenly remember that my brother was assigned to some sort of poor places like Border Town. I'm afraid that he's already fled to Longsong Stronghold, even though the demons there cannot be compared to those in Hermes. I cannot blame him. If I had gone to such a place, I would have also sought refuge. Therefore, you can see how unfair my father is. Did he intend that my second brother inherit the throne just due to his intelligence? Father has forgotten that he himself didn't win the throne of Graycastle by intelligence. Since the death of my mother, I've had more and more difficulty figuring out his thoughts."

Gerald did not know how to continue, for he did not know whether or not he should tell Olivia the truth. He paused for a moment, and decided to keep writing. If the plan went well, he should have already arrived at Graycastle Palace when the letter was received.

"My dear, Astrologer Ansger is right. If I don't do anything, the throne will definitely not belong to me. He's read this in the star image, 'The Apocalypse Star is moving away from the sun. It'll completely deviate from its orbit in at most four months." As the astrologer has told me this, there must not be much time left. I cannot remain idle.

After today's battle, I'll secretly return to the king's city with my loyal knights. Coldwind Ridge is far behind Valencia in terms of wealth. But they aren't lacking in courageous warriors. As long as gold is promised, they'll seek the given goal like hungry wolves. Of course, that isn't my ideal method. All I want is to ask father in person the reason he issued the Royal Decree on the Selection of the Crown Prince. In the end, what makes him forget that I should have the right to inherit the throne?

Astrologer Ansger has already arranged everything. Olivia, my love, you won't wait much longer. The day I become King, I intend to marry you and make you my Queen. If I should fail... you have no need to return to the king's city, and you should live a good life in Coldwind Ridge.

Gerald loves you."

He carefully placed the folded letter into an envelope, and sealed it with wax oil. After checking it a number of times, he knocked on the table, and a bodyguard quickly entered the tent.

"This letter shall be sent to Rose in Coldwind. You needn't travel all day and night, and don't have to ride a horse. You'll be dressed as an ordinary traveler, and should travel between the two places on a business trip. Most importantly, this letter must be sent personally."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness!"

"Good, you may leave." Gerald waved away the guards and simply sat down on the table, his feet hanging over the fiery pit.

There was no way back.

He closed his eyes and recalled his childhood. At that time, he played hide and seek in the garden of the king's city with Timothy and Garcia. When Garcia fell down, he and Timothy went to accompany her. When did the three of them become so distant?

Gerald shook his head and put away the confusing thought. Such sentimental things did not suit him. After all, he knew when the confusion would end—when he was on the throne.

Just then, the dull sound of a horn came through the tent.

"Waaawaaawaaa—!"

"They're here!" He jumped up from the table and put on his shoes. Outside the tent, the battalion was already on the move. Running soldiers and flags came together to create a torrent, heading for the battlefield. The sound echoed over the distant mountains, never-ending.

Demonic beasts were coming.

"Come with me!" He rode his warhorse and came to the top of the city wall.

Only when you stood on the walls of New Holy City could you feel its magnificence. It was like an insurmountable natural moat, standing in the foothills of the Impassable Mountains. The top was flat and wide, so that dozens of people could stand side by side. In front of it lay natural glaciers, and its rear was a plateau.

This was the reason that the church so desperately wanted to build New Holy City on top of the mountain.

With this harsh terrain, it was almost impossible to break the lines of defense.

Gerald Wimbledon had a long-term vision. The strength demonstrated by the church in the creation of Hermes was staggering. They established it in just 20 years, taking timber and stones from the foot of the mountain to its peak.

But even though he was no longer disgusted by the church scoundrels, there was something Gerald had to admit. If they did not support the holding of Hermes, all the countries on the continent would face a catastrophe, which was the basis for signing the Agreement on the Months of the Demons.

When the Months of the Demons came, the four kingdoms bordering Hermes had to send troops to aid the church and fight with the church's Judgement Army.

The four banner flags flew in the wind, the Kingdom of Dawn's serpent scepter, the Kingdom of Wolfheart's knife shield crossing, the iceberg rose of the Kingdom of Everwinter...

and the tower and spear of the Kingdom of Graycastle.

Looking at the black spots in the distant sky, Gerald Wimbledon clenched his sword.

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41 Demonic Beasts Appear

As Brian said, when it started snowing in Border Town, it did not stop.

The town had been wrapped in a layer of white yarn overnight. In the morning, the amount of snow lessened with only a few snowflakes falling every so often, while the sky remained gray. Roland felt incredulous at the fact that it would be a few months before the sun would be visible once again.

"It was simply unreasonable," he thought. "It was hard enough to find sense in a world with witches and magic power, but how could demonic beasts affect the heavens?" Unfortunately, he had no meteorological tools to help him know about the world's current cloud distributions.

Walking along the road to the city wall of the Western Region, Carter could not help but exclaim. "The town seems deserted, and with that, there are some people leaving with the noble families."

"At least this way, they won't drag us down," said Roland. "I've arranged Barov for a population census this winter."

"What's that?"

"That means, you need to go door to door and record how many people are left, their name, and career they're engaged in, and then register it," Roland explained. "In this way, we can quickly and effectively allocate human resources during war and distribute pensions after war."

"Uh... human resources?" Carter blinked and then laughed. "Your Highness, you really have changed."

"Why?"

"In the past, you would also say some things I didn't understand and act strangely. At that time, some of what you did didn't match a prince's behavior, but now... " Carter paused for a moment, and seemed to look for his words. "Whether it's your quirky training regulations or the alchemical tests, the results are surprisingly effective. Perhaps this is what my grandfather said that what made someone extraordinary was that they can see what normal people ignored. I'm beginning to think maybe you really could become the next king."

"... Is that so?" Roland's heart felt warm. Was there anything more fulfilling than being approved by heelers for men? For a time he felt that his hands and feet were full of strength, and the dark sky was not so oppressing.

Along the city wall, the militia team was cleaning up the aisle of snow. When they saw the prince, they all bowed and gave a salute.

"They should be taught a proper salute," Roland thought. "How was the situation last night?"

"There was no trace of the demonic beasts." It was Iron Axe who answered him. "Your Highness, according to previous experience, there'll be a relatively stable period after the first snow. During this period, the number of demonic beasts is small. And mutated animals are small and weak."

Roland nodded. "Then keep alert."

The rear section of the city wall had been transformed into a battalion. When all was quiet, most people would rest in the battalion to save energy. For the guards, a rotation system was implemented. Due to the low winter temperature, each warning patrol only stayed out for two hours before being replaced.

It was Roland who laid these measures into place. When asking Brian, he found out that Longsong Stronghold had no experience in the fight against the demonic beasts. The most unlucky recruits would be sent to monitor the evil creatures for a whole day on the city wall. This meant that each winter saw 20 to 30 people being hung for the dereliction of duty or the violation of military orders.

When the demonic beasts appeared, it was a mess. The defense was not put into divisions, and as such, responsibility was not specified. Thinking of the level of war in that era, Roland understood. There was an extreme emphasis on personal bravery, honor, and pillaging. Even the knights would charge forward in person out of impulse, and one could not expect too much.

Roland toured the walls once again. It seemed that all was going smoothly, but Roland found himself ignoring a problem.

That was the guidance of the roadblocks.

At the moment, these obstacles clearly led the demonic beasts to the center of the city wall, but if what Brian said was true, snow would cover these obstacles within two to three months. If that happened, they could have to defend from the beasts in a line as long as 600 meters. His staff could not take such wide range into consideration.

He could not send a platoon to remove the snow as a few demonic wolves were enough to make the team suffer heavy losses.

Perhaps he would have to rely on the power of the witches once again.

For example, let Nightingale sneak out of the city with Anna and melt the snow with fire, and then sneak back—that was similar to how she stole Nana from the Pine's.

At that moment, the observation alarm on the left side of the city wall was sounded.

"Look ahead!"

Roland and Carter looked at the position he was pointing to, and a small shadow came out of the snow and moved slowly toward the city wall.

"Your Highness, do you...?" a hunter responsible for defense turned around and asked.

"According to the previous exercise, you should judge whether or not to blow the horn," Roland said, "and at this point, you're more experienced than me."

He hesitated, and ultimately decided to pull on the strings of his crossbow and continued to observe from the city wall.

Roland nodded with satisfaction. For the moment, the order on the city wall was still well maintained. He just did not know if the defense would swiftly organize according to their drills when a large number of demonic beasts attacked Border Town.

The shadow gradually approached. When it came to about 50 meters in front of the city wall, Roland was able to see its appearance.

Was it just a variant of fox?

Its fur was gray and black, and its eyes were flushed. It panted as it reached the city wall.

"This creature seems to have been just attacked, and it's no threat to us," Iron Axe said as he aimed his bow.

"You said they were all infected with the breath of hell, and exiled to the west?"

"Not only to the west," said Carter. "When the Gates of Hell open in Barbarian Land, any place beyond the protection of the Impassable Mountain Range will be attacked by demonic beasts, especially in the north. There, the Impassable Mountain Range seems to be cut off, and the gap is about 5,000 meters. It's also the main direction of the attacks by the demonic beasts."

The manic monster wandered around the city wall for a while. Then it raised its head and grinned at the soldiers on the city wall. When it leaped, Iron Axe released his bowstring, and the arrow penetrated its neck, nailing it firmly to the ground.

Roland noticed that the blood flowing from it was black.

"Why could a witch stay conscious after their awakening, but a beast became frantic and alienated when they were ambushed by the same demonic power? If there was ever the chance, I should go to the rear of the Impassable Mountain Range and take a look for myself," he thought. From the prince's memory, the Gates of Hell was located in a place where humans could not reach. However, as no one had ever gone there, the information found in the ancient books was all rumors and speculations, and not verified. That was questionable.

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42 An Acciden

"If someone is bitten by a demonic beast," asked Roland, "will he turn into something like the beast?"

He hoped that this was not some otherworldly version of Resident Evil. They could not extract virus antigens with the current technology.

"Of course not," said Iron Axe, making a confused face. "Humans will simply turn into corpses."

"Can we eat the flesh of the demonic beasts?"

Carter exclaimed. "Your Highness! How can you eat these beasts? They're all tainted by the touch of hell!"

Roland turned to Iron Axe, who nodded. "Your knight is right. Once I tried to cut off a piece of flesh from the beasts and feed it to a hound, but it died soon after."

"Is that so? What a pity." Roland sighed. Food was so scarce in this era, so if demonic beasts could be eaten, then they could have a huge harvest in the winter. Just imagine, with all the crazed beasts running from the forest to Border Town, they would not even need any hunting tools.

Once he finished patrolling the city wall, he decided to pay Nana a visit.

He had expropriated a nobleman's house, which was the closest to the city wall, and transformed it into a field hospital. Of course, it was simply a normal hospital to others. Just to be safe, the place was the most heavily guarded place except the city wall.

When the house owner escaped to Longsong Stronghold, he took all of his properties with him. Border Town was a place where one could give up at any moment. Even though the house was large, there were no frescoes, carpets, or porcelain to decorate it. If it were not neatly cleaned, it would just look like a house that has been abandoned for a long time.

Roland tore down the wooden partition on the first floor to make one large room, leaving only the hallway and entrance intact. He then placed 10 beds to form a simple hospital. There were no nurses, no doctors, and even these 10 beds were unlikely to be occupied. After all, Nana's treatment did not require bed rest. It was immediately effective.

During the day, she was on the second floor of the hospital on standby. Anna accompanied her whenever she had spare time. Tigui Pine and Brian were in charge of the first floor, with two more guards posted at the entrance. It was foolproof.

However, Roland did not expect that the first patient that the hospital received would be a worker from the North Slope Mine, rather than some soldier defending the city wall.

*******************

Nail felt his hands shaking.

When he heard Iron Head's hoarse screams, he once again quickened his pace. He wished he could fly to his destination.

Everything was a result of his negligence, he thought. He really deserved to die. How could he forget the veteran knight's warnings?

He knew that he should not have agreed to operate the large machine alone.

Ever since the big, dark machine was installed at the entrance of the mine, work had become a lot easier.

In the first place, the most tiring job was removing the ores from the mine. When the basket was filled with ores, it would take three to four people to drag it. Usually two people pushed in the back, with the others pulling from the front. After years of mining, the uneven surface of the tunnel would become flat due to the repetitive transporting of the baskets. The iron pads under the baskets also had to be changed frequently.

A week ago, Chief Knight ordered Iron Head and his men to haul some oddly-shaped metal pieces up the mountain. After a few days, they assembled the pieces in a furnace. Nail did not expect that the furnace would come to life and start moving on its own. It was both powerful and dynamic.

The veteran knight said it was an invention by His Highness called a "steam engine".

As long as they tied the mining basket to the machine with a hemp rope and ignited a fire, the machine would let out a cry. Then it would turn the winch to pull the basket to the entrance of the mine.

It sounded incredible!

The veteran knight demonstrated it a few times, and then asked Iron Head to select a person to operate the steam engine. Nail's heart soared when he was selected. As long as he stood in front of that machine, he would never have to dig in the mine or push the basket. That was what he thought, but he had been terrified ever since the landslide accident.

He kept the veteran knight's words firmly in his mind.

Making the contraption work seemed easy. All he had to do was to lift the green rod and press the red rod down. The veteran knight said that the green rod was connected to the air intake valve, and the red rod was connected to the exhaust valve. And the steam would enter the cylinder through the pipeline. When the basket was pulled up, he would stop the machine by lifting the red rod and pressing the green rod down. Then steam would come from the side of the boiler into the tube. After each cycle, the boiler must be filled with water. Although Nail did not understand the meanings of the valve and cylinder, he promised to operate it step by step.

But the veteran knight stressed two points. Firstly, he should not mess up the order. He must start from the green then to red rod, and end with the red rod followed by the green rod. If he did this incorrectly, he would probably damage the machine. Secondly, he had to clear out the surrounding miners before emptying the exhaust, and continue shouting out to remind others what he was doing, until the red rod was completely lifted.

Nail was sure that he absolutely could not mess up the first point. As for the second, he had some problem.

Today, when he turned off the machine as usual, there was no one around. He felt like a fool calling out to an empty room, so he proceeded to pull the red rod silently. The rod was tight, and it took quite an effort for him to lift it.

He did not expect Iron Head to appear right then in front of the boiler. Nail swore that he did not see him approach, and the loud roar of the machine masked his footsteps. White steam screeched from the exhaust port and headed straight at Iron Head's face!

Nail was frozen in horror, seeing Iron Head fall to the ground. Iron head clutched his face, rolling around. The mournful screams that he let out gave Nail goose bumps.

Soon other miners gathered around. They held down Iron Head who was still rolling, and forcibly removed his hands. His face was a mess, with blood oozing from the cooked flesh of his skin. His eyes were mere white beads. Everyone there knew that it was the end for him.

Behind them, tears welled in Nail's eyes. Iron Head had always taken care of him. Considering his young age, Iron Head assigned him less work than others, but never reduced his pay. But now this happened because of his negligence.

Caught in his grief and anxiety, Nail recalled what the veteran knight had said. If someone was accidentally injured in the mining area, they could bring them to the new medical hospital near the city wall.

He knew that there was little hope to mend such a serious injury. The wound was too serious and herbs would do little to help. Iron Head's skin would continue to rot, and he would soon fall into a coma because of his fever. Nonetheless, Nail put Iron Head on his back. Clenching his teeth, he ran, ignoring the surprise of the people around him.

He knew if he did nothing and simply watched Iron Head die, he would not be able to forgive himself in this lifetime.

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43 Be Strong

Chapter 43 Be strong

“Sister Anna?”

When Nana heard thunderous footsteps coming from the stairs, she ran to the door and took a quick look, but she was soon disappointed because she found out that the person who was coming was His Royal Highness, the Prince.

“Anna should still be working, but she will probably come by later.” said Roland when he arrived at Nana’s side.

“Work?” Nana had recently often heard this word out of the mouth of the Prince, “You mean she is burning this gray mud powder?”

“For now, yes.”

Nana pouted as she went back to the table. I also have a job, she thought. My job is to stay here and wait to treat the soldiers who are injured while defending the town.

Roland asked with a gentle smile, “How is it? Do you feel bored when Anna isn’t here?” as he took a chair to sit by the fireplace.

“Well,” Nana supported her chin with her hand so that she couldn’t nod and give a true answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to treat the injured, but … the sight of the injuries was just so horrible.

She could still remember when she had to treat Brian, it was the first time she had to treat a human. The man was covered all over in blood that it seemed like he had bathed in blood. A reddish-brown blood clot had solidified in the pit of his stomach, his mouth resembled the look of a dried fish, and he was disgorging white fluids and red blood. Then… Nana had fainted.

It was downright disgraceful.

Nana raised her head to secretly glance at Roland. She saw that he had leaned back in his chair and was snoring. The Prince seemed to be tired, she thought. His jobs were building the walls, training the soldiers, and protecting the town from the invasion of the demonic beasts.

When he came to request her help, although she first hesitated for a long time, in the end she did not refuse.

“You will encounter some things that make you want to live on, even if you will have to struggle to live on.” – Nana didn’t understand what this meant, but when she closed her eyes, Anna would appear within her mind – with her pair of bright blue eyes, just like a lake, surrounding her slowly. This was the reason she agreed to Roland’s request.

She wanted to be as strong as her sister, Anna.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard from downstairs again and Nana immediately jumped off her chair. She wanted to go to the door to see if it was Anna who came this time, but suddenly she was stopped by an invisible hand.

“Just wait a minute, there is more than one person.”

Nana patted her chest in dissatisfaction, “You scared me, sister Nightingale.”

Soon the door was open, and this time it was Brian, who was stationed here, who entered, “Miss Pine, please come down. You have a patient who got burned.”

This was work for her, right?

Nana took a deep breath, “I will come down.”

She walked downstairs while two guards were busy with carrying an unconscious person towards a bed. Standing beside the bed was a short man with a face full of anxiety. Brian walked up to the patient and neatly tied the patient’s hands and feet to the bed. When he was done tying, he closed up the area with previously prepared curtains and then led the little man out of the room.

When Roland came down he asked while rubbing his eyes, “What happened?”

“Your Highness, North Slope Mine sent a seriously injured person, he looks like he was scalded.”

The Prince walked over to Brian, “He was burned by the steam engine, right? Was there a problem with the engine? Did you send him to Nana?”

“He is in the medical room.” Brian pointed to the direction of the door.

“I need you to look into this case.” when he finished speaking, Roland walked towards the medical room.

Nana slowly stepped near the injured man, only looking at him carefully within her peripheral vision. When she saw his face, his facial features had turned into paste, forming a round ball. What should have been red skin was dehydrated and inhumanely white, it just looked like a rag was laying on his face. At his neck were blisters as big as small eggs, some of them had even been broken, and the mucus oozing out from the blisters mixed together with the blood in the pillow. In the flickering shine of the fire, his appearance was more horrible than the devil in her nightmares.

She took two steps back and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw her father watching her, full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

Nana nodded, thinking of the words Roland had told her – “You only need to treat the injured the same as you treat the little animals.” She once again moved towards the bed and stretched out her hands.

An incredible feeling emerged within her body and gathered within the palm of her hand. She saw a ray of light being emitted from the fluorescent green liquid flowing out of her hands as it fell on the injured face. For her, this fluorescence light was obvious, but to others it seemed to be invisible. Then, the wounds began to change. The scorched skin was constantly shed off and new skin began to regrow at a visible speed.

The wounded man’s groans of pain gradually diminished until it stopped, and his breathing eased. It seemed like he just fell into a deep sleep.

Nana exhaled, relieved. This time her own performance was surely better than last time, and she thought, I should have made a great progress with my training, right?

“My God, is this what His Highness meant when he spoke of your healing ability? This is the first time I’ve seen you do this.” asked Sir Pine. Then he exclaimed, “Good girl, you’re awesome!”

“It is the power of the gods,” Brian said in the same tone of awe, “It was also Miss Nana who healed me when I was heavily injured, I really owe her so much.”

Ah, he is such a fool. Nana had to cover her face because of shame, doesn’t he know that it was sister Nightingale who smuggled him out and saved him on that day?

“When did that happen?” asked Sir Pine, full of wonder, “Why didn’t I know of it?”

“Oh… Their powers have nothing to do with God, they belong to the witches themselves.” Roland opened the curtain and stepped inside, coughed once and changed the subject, “How are his injures?”

“He has basically recovered,” Blaine excitedly said, “It’s like he was never hurt! Your Highness, with the help of Miss Nana, during the Month of the Demons, everyone who is fighting has a chance to survive!”

“As long as they don’t die on the spot, there will be no problem with saving their lives,” the Prince confirmed, indicating Brian that he should stop since the man woke up, “Your name is Titus, right?”

The man who was named Titus had a look full of confusion and asked “I … What happened? Am I dreaming?”

“You’re not,” Roland said. “You’re still alive.”

“Are you …! I have seen Your Highness at the square!” The man suddenly woke up like he was hit by lightning, jumped up from the bed, and fell to his knees, “Your Royal Highness, was it you who saved me?”

“It was the daughter of the Pine Family who saved you. She is a witch and has a healing ability.”

Nana’s mind froze, he directly said that she was a witch, would she be okay? Sure enough, the look in the man’s eye changed immediately, “A woman… she is a witch? Your Highness, aren’t they the devil’s …”

“Don’t speak such nonsense!” When Sir Pine heard him speaking such words about his daughter, he angrily cried, “My daughter has nothing to do with the devil, but she even saved your life instead, man! Do you think the Devil would reach out to you with a helping hand?!”

“No, no! Please forgive me for being impolite,” Titus pulled his head immediately into a deep bow, “Thank you for saving my life, Miss Pine.”

Nana suddenly felt inexplicably uncomfortable. If she could, she would immediately rush out of the room, but a voice in her mind repeatedly reminded her, “be strong.”

Later when Titus was sent away, Sir Pine worriedly asked, “Will this really be alright, Your Highness? In this way, I’m afraid, my daughter will no longer be able to lead a normal life.”

“You have to think on the bright side, Sir Pine,” comforted the Prince, “We have to take advantage in this kind of situation, so that we will be able to break the deadlock. With this, Nana will may be truly free in the future. Otherwise, in the following years, she will one day be exposed. Until then, I am afraid she can only live a life in seclusion. “

… Real freedom? Nana didn’t know what this meant, because even now she felt very free. But His Highness said when they would achieve it, sister Anna would also be able to leave the castle just like herself. Maybe they could even return to teacher Karl’s college, right?
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44 The Unspoken Answer

When Roland returned to the castle, it was already dark and snowing heavily again.

He went into the bedroom and removed his coat. He shook off the snow at the collar, and hung it on the hanger beside the fireplace.

"Your Highness, don't you think this matter was handled too hastily?"

Nightingale appeared in front of the prince.

"Nana?" Roland poured a glass of ale for Nightingale and himself. Although the wine was much bitterer than the beer he was used to in his past life, he had gradually become accustomed to its taste.

Nightingale took the cup and held it in her hand but did not drink—she was waiting for the prince's answer.

"There's no better time than now." Roland downed his wine and refilled his cup. "If we want to develop Nana's power before the Months of Demons, we can't conceal her identity as a witch. She can instantly heal fatal injuries in a way more efficient than the ordinary herbal medicines or bloodletting therapy. I'm sure people will realize this."

"It's a blessing that this small town is outside the border of the Western Region, therefore, the church has very limited influence on it—if I were them, I would not be willing to spend gold royals on this unimportant place either." Roland went on. "The town didn't even have a chapel, and the missionaries returned with the noble to Longsong Stronghold a long time ago. What do you think of Border Town now? It's an island cut off from the outside world."

"... you planned this long ago?" Nightingale asked.

Roland nodded. "The snow will bury the road leading to Longsong Stronghold, and the docking of the ships at the port is controlled by me. We have at least three months to correct the wrong idea that "witches are evil". If we depend just on publicity, the effect is very limited. So we need to rely on close contact, in order to quickly eliminate this layer of misunderstanding."

That was why he wanted to keep Nana at all costs. He wanted to create a Florence Nightingale in this world.

Due to this legendary nurse's dedicated efforts to take care of the wounded, the casualty rate was reduced from 42% to 2%. She was conferred the title of "The Lady with the Lamp", and she raised the reputation of nurses.

And Nana's ability was even more magical. Through magic power, she could cure trauma and revive lives as long as it was not death on-the-spot. This was probably better for the morale of the Militia than any weapon.

Moreover, thanks to her father's identity as a noble in decline and his association with hunters and farmers, he had a peaceful attitude towards civilians, and even allowed Nana to attend Teacher Karl's college. As compared to the other nobles, even the lowest ranking baron, would not be happy to allow his daughter to mix with civilians—in their eyes, these people were so-called lowlifes.

"Can these... really be done?" Even if it were Nightingale, when faced with the powerful authority like the church, she would still appear particularly weak.

"If we don't try, we'll never know the answer."

Roland did not expect the whole town to change their view, but at least this new platoon he formed had to be firmly grasped in his hands. Later on, he would rely on these people, who came from the civilians, to promote his ideas.

Three months were enough to change a lot of things.

Nightingale was silent for a moment, and then whispered, "Why are you doing this for the witches?"

In order to liberate productivity, become more powerful and have a place in the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince—of course, these answers were not suitable to be said at this moment. Even though Roland was a mechanical engineer, he had also played a variety of GALGAME. So it could be said he had also seen many battles. Two decades of experience reminded him that this time he was facing a key question.

He pondered the right words to say, and then slowly replied, "I've already told you a long time ago, that Border Town doesn't care about your background. I hope that one day, even a witch, can live like a free man in my domain."

This time Nightingale was silent for a long time. Only the crackling of charcoal burning could be heard in the room. Her side profile shone like a beautiful picture under the bright firelight.

When she spoke again, Roland felt time had regained movement. "In fact, you don't have to do this." Her voice was remote yet gentle. "Please forgive me for lying to you earlier on... My sisters of the Witch Cooperation Association have been drifting around for a long time. They don't have many expectations. Just a place to settle down would satisfy them, even if it was in the castle."

"How would that be different from a cage." Roland shook his head. Then suddenly it dawned upon him. He stared at Nightingale. "Hang on... are you saying that you now allow them to come over?"

Nightingale sighed and avoided eye contact with the prince. "In that case, you'll become an enemy of the church."

"They had gone too far," Roland said nonchalantly. "Once the divine right of kings becomes a slogan, the conflict between the church and the mainland countries will break out sooner or later. As for Border Town, as long as we can live through these three months, the church can't do much harm to us. We're far from the base of the church. Will the bishop bring the Judgement Army across the entire Kingdom of Graycastle to capture me? My father won't allow such a thing to happen. This would be a serious provocation of the royal majesty."

"..."

After Nightingale bowed and left, Roland lay in the bed, and let out a sigh of relief.

He did not tell her all his thoughts, such as the church was far away, and according to the speed of communication in that world, they probably would not respond until early summer. Plus the long distance and his identity as a prince, it meant the church would probably only send envoys to investigate the situation.

It would take half a year to carry out a round trip. By then, he would have the ability to break the ties with them.

Therefore, the biggest danger was not the church, but the witches themselves.

This point was noticed only by Roland.

Although the witches were now at a disadvantage, the situation would not last forever. Witches did not rely on blood heritage, but instead a random awakening, which meant witches could not be exterminated, and they would only increase in numbers.

The church relied on God's Stone of Retaliation to maintain their advantage over the witches, but this could only be used to offset the magic power. By the look of things, the witches' awakening not only gave them a variety of abilities. Even their physical qualities, thinking agility, and their appearance were superior to ordinary people.

They were in essence, considered "New Mankind".

The more brutal the oppression was, the more intense the resistance would be. When a riot led purely by the witches arose, how much damage would that cause to the Kingdom of Graycastle? The hatred caused by the church, once uncontrollable, could very likely be transferred to the same hate toward the kingdom and its people.

Roland did not wish to see that happen.

So he needed to start from Border Town. He first had to frame a structure to accommodate both parties, and promote this to the entire Kingdom of Graycastle, and even the mainland kingdom.

He wanted to build a world where witches and ordinary people could coexist.

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45 The Conspiracy Part I

When the moon started to set, Gerald Wimbledon saw the flickering silhouette of the city wall of the king's city.

After a few months, he was finally back. Thinking of that, he felt the fatigue of the long journey diminished greatly. But he still remained vigilant, and tightly pulled his horse, beckoning his assistant to go ahead and inquire about the situation.

If the plan did not change, Astrologer Ansger should have already replaced the city guards with Gerald's men. After the assistant shot out the signal, Ansger would let down the side drawbridge.

Gerald kept his eyes wide open, as if he was afraid to miss the faint fire.

He did not have to wait long, but Gerald felt like time had stopped. When his eyelids became too weary, he finally saw the distant flickers—twice under the city wall, and thrice above, just like it was planned. He took a deep breath and waved his troops forward.

By the look of things, he was only one step away from the throne.

Gerald rode through the side door of the city wall, with the assistant by his side.

Behind him were more than twenty cavalries. They were all silently pulling the reins, and controlling the mount to inch forward slowly.

The city walls of the king's city were made of materials obtained from Fallen Dragon Ridge. The gray-colored stone had a dark red luster under the torch as if it was soaked in blood. The whole city wall was about 6 meters wide. And in order to build this wall that was out of this world, more than 1,000 slaves and masons died on the site.

An army of 10,000 could not overcome this impregnable wall, but yet he was sliding through it so easily. Gerald thought to himself that any loophole must have started from the inside. All of a sudden, he recalled New Holy City. Would their seemingly more magnificent and indestructible wall be destroyed from the inside as well?

"Your Highness, I've been awaiting your arrival for a long time." Marching through the gates, he saw Astrologer Ansger and a small platoon waiting. Seeing Gerald appear, Astrologer Ansger quickly dismounted, bowed and saluted.

Gerald cast his distractions aside. He was probably so excited that he unwittingly let his imagination run wild. "You did well. Have you also swopped the palace guards?"

"Your Highness, the plan had a small mishap. Silver Knight who promised to serve you, was transferred to the Southern Territory three days ago. So now there's only time to replace the palace chamber guards."

Gerald frowned, as this meant that he could not bring all the 20 people into the palace. The guards would not attempt to stop him, but would also not allow so many armed men to enter the royal premises.

"Oh well, assign me two guards from the chamber platoon. The rest can stay the entrance, and ensure outsiders don't come in and bother me." He hesitated for a second before confirming. Although the plan had changed, the situation was still under control. Father's guards would generally stay overnight in the outer rooms. As long as someone could hold them off for a moment, he was confident that he could obtain victory.

Entering the inner city, he saw everything he used to be familiar with. Although it was night, he could still recognize every street. This was his territory without a doubt. Everyone jumped off their horses, and advanced quickly toward the palace. As they arrived at the door, the cavalry spread out according to the new plan, forming an ambush outside the palace. Just like Astrologer Ansger said, although the guards were surprised as to why the prince returned at night to the king's city, they still let him enter as Gerald lied that he had something important to report.

After all, he was the eldest son of the Kingdom of Graycastle, first in line to the throne.

The prince and Astrologer Ansger went through the garden and the hall, and right in front was King Wimbledon III's residence. The astrologer lifted the torch in his hand and shook it from left to right. Immediately, guards walked out of the darkness, and knelt down to the two men. "Your Highness, please come with me."

Gerald sniffed his nose and smelled a bloody odor.

Had not the chamber guards been completely replaced? He looked at the guard by firelight, and it was someone familiar—a knight of the earl who supported his succession plans. This made him feel a little more at ease.

"Did someone get into the castle?"

"Your Highness, His Majesty summoned a maid in the evening. And when she came out, she saw our exchange," replied the other. "Please rest assured. We've dealt with it."

[A maid? Father has not touched a woman for a long time—ever since Mother died.] Gerald felt a little surprised, but now it was not the right time to bother about such a minor thing. He nodded and did not say anything more. He followed the guards into the castle, and the others followed behind them.

Gerald knew the castle like the back of his hand, and he could walk from one end to the next with his eyes closed. He had lived here for more than 20 years, and he knew exactly where the secret tunnels or hidden doors were. But his purpose now was to persuade his father to pass the throne to himself. Sneaking into the chambers was meaningless. He also had to get rid of the guards outside, so that his father could completely understand his situation. Then they could sit down and talk seriously about the attribution of the inheritance.

If he could not convince his father...

Gerald Wimbledon took a deep breath, reached out and beckoned everyone to stop. He then pulled out the hand sword at his back.

The bronze door at the end of the corridor was the only entrance to the palace chambers. Behind the door was the outer chamber, but also the last line of defense. Two to three guards were usually stationed there, so that they could rush into the chambers to protect His Majesty at the first sign of danger.

Gerald first pushed the door to open a small slot. Then he used his shoulder to bang the door, fleeing quickly into the room, whilst holding his sword in an attacking stance, but the outside chamber was silent, without a single soul. At the same time, a strong bloody stench covered his nose.

His heart flashed an unknown premonition, and he ran straight toward the bedroom.

Shortly after, Gerald witnessed a scene that he could hardly believe...

King Wimbledon III was sitting on his bed in his robes, and his upper body leaning against the pillow. His robe was open, and a hilt was inserted into his chest. Blood dripped down his raised stomach and soaked the quilt.

Standing beside his father was his younger brother, Timothy Wimbledon.

"How, how could this happen?" Gerald stood motionless.

"Just like you, my elder brother." Timothy sighed. "I didn't want to do this."

He clapped his hands, and a number of armored warriors quickly poured through the door to surround the royal prince. "This is a chess game, and I originally wanted to follow the rules. Brother, did you know? Garcia did not respect the rules from the start, of course... you too. If not, why would she rush to the king's city after hearing the astrological prophet of Astrologer Ansger? Seriously, if you didn't show up, I wouldn't know what to do."

"Astrologer!"

He gritted his teeth and looked back. Astrologer Ansger stepped back and said, "I didn't lie to you. 'The Apocalypse Star is far away from Blaze day' is a metaphor that the lost has strayed from the right path, but it also has the meaning of destruction."

Now Gerald finally understood. He had fallen into a well-designed trap from the very beginning. The stench of blood at the door of the castle was not left by some maid and Silver Knight had not been transferred away. But the most disappointing fact was, Astrologer Ansger, who had taken care of him for more than a decade, and taught him to read and write from an early age, still chose the 2nd Prince—just like his father.

"Timothy Wimbledon! We're both his sons, but he devoted so much effort to you and assigned the best territory to you. Yet you were the first to lay your hands on him! You're a demon from hell!"

Anger flashed in Timothy's eyes but quickly disappeared. "Do you really think so? Dear brother, if you failed to persuade him to let you inherit the throne, would you really walk away quietly? Don't deceive yourself."
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46 The Conspiracy Part II

"..." Gerald knew that he was now backed into a corner, and all he could do was to drag his younger brother together to hell. At this moment, he was actually calm, "Do you just want to get rid of me?"

"Get rid of you? No, that's of no help to me, my dear brother. I had no choice but to resort to this." Timothy's tone was still calm as if he was stating a fact. "If I had patiently waited for five years, I would probably end up having to face Garcia's pirate army. Do you know what she has been up to recently?"

Gerald shook his head and estimated the distance between himself and the 2nd Prince. He remembered his younger brother was very smart since childhood, but he was not good at riding and battle. As long as he could find the opportunity to rush forward to cut off...

"She is forming her own army, Brother. Really, I admire her. She did this even before the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince. Even I, did not expect this from her. When we were children, we all got along so harmoniously. How did we end up here, planning to kill each other?" He said, and then retreated two steps." For example, I'm afraid now you just want to split me into two halves with your sword, right?"

"..."

"I know it, Brother. You are still the same as before. When you want to kill, your eyes have a horrific stare," Timothy sighed. "Let me tell you honestly. I want to terminate the Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince. If not, the fleet of Garcia would be waiting for me five years later. She had already controlled the Port of Clearwater a few years ago. And Valencia was suitable for creating businessmen, but not for raising fighters."

"I need an army that can resist Garcia's fleet, and this can't be achieved by a trade city." Gerald Wimbledon, tomorrow you'll be judged because you left your domain and assassinated the king. I have to return to Valencia tonight to make preparations before the bad news spreads to the Eastern Region. I'll be deeply sad, and step up rightfully as the second successor. And you'll be sent to the guillotine on the charges of killing the king."

"You..!" Gerald screamed and rushed toward his younger brother, but the distance was too great. His sword was intercepted by two armored guards. Then his calf numbed, as a dagger pierced his calf. Gerald suddenly lost his balance and fell crooked to the ground. The crowd swarmed forward, and he was tightly pressed to the ground, bound and unable to move.

"Judge? Do you think you're qualified to judge me? I'll divulge all of this, and let the people who support you know what kind of monster you are!"

"Of course you won't, my brother," said Timothy patiently. "The Alchemic Workshop has a medicine called 'Forgotten Language', which is made up of mixed lizard venom and horse's milk from the sandy land of the Southern Territory. After drinking it, you won't be able to make any sound. Rest assured you won't feel any pain. Instead, the taste is sweet, smooth and quite intoxicating. If you want to blame someone, then blame our talented sister. If not for her, I would not have to do this."

He waved to the leader of the guards, and the latter also nodded in reply and saluted. The royal prince was pulled out of the palace. The other armored guards also filed out. Finally, only the 2nd Prince and Astrologer Ansger were left.

"Your Highness, your throne is now secured, so I should call you Your Majesty," Astrologer Ansger said bowing.

"You did really well, and when I get on the throne of the Kingdom of Graycastle, I will fulfill our arrangement. But...seeing my brother's tragic appearance today, I feel certain promises should be accompanied by a guarantee clause."

The astrologer's expression immediately changed. "Your Highness, you mean..."

"Don't worry. I just don't want to be betrayed." Timothy pulled out a wax pill from his arms. "You must have seen this quite often. The wax pill's shell takes seven days to completely dissolve, about the same time it takes for me to return from the king's city to Valencia. I've used the position of Chief Astrologer as the price for your collaboration, and I don't wish for others to pull you away at a higher price."

"Your Highness... you must be joking." The astrologer's face turned white blank. Yet he still bit the bullet and swallowed the wax pill in the end.

"Smart choice," said Timothy nodding with satisfaction. "Now you can go."

...

When the palace was empty, the 2nd Prince's face was gloomy.

He grabbed the porcelain on the bedside table and thrashed it on the ground. The porcelain was smashed into pieces. A guard came in immediately. "Your Highness?"

"Get out!" He roared.

"Yes." The latter quickly headed out of the room and shut the door.

[Damn it! Things shouldn't be this way!]

His plan did not include killing his father. By virtue of the king's preference, he just needed to highlight Garcia's actions to the king and stop her. Plus he had Prince Gerald Wimbledon as bait.

Timothy thought that his plan was infallible. He used the position of Chief Astrologer to lure Gerald's enlightenment mentor—the low ranking Astrologer Ansger in the Astrologers Association, into writing a letter to Gerald. And Gerald got hooked quite quickly. This was also in line with Timothy's judgement. His elder brother was stronger at fighting than thinking, whilst not willing to hand over the throne.

The next few letters stirred up the ambition of the first Prince Gerald, and Timothy also finished preparing the next step. When the last letter with the astrological prophecy was issued, he secretly returned to the king's city, to reveal the news that the first Prince Gerald might be planning a takeover. There was no doubt that once the matter was confirmed, his father would fly into a rage and send the first Prince Gerald into prison. He would face either imprisonment to death or exile.

Then, his father would look upon the other children, and Garcia who was expanding her army rapidly, would certainly be a natural choice.

But... why did it turn out like that? Father heard his news, smiled strangely instead, pulled out a dagger, and pierced his own chest!

Everything happened so fast that Timothy could not react in time, and could only watch his father die in front of him.

He sat down feebly along the bedside. For the first time, he felt he was also a pawn in a game of chest. Father's last smile was like a nightmare, making him feel creepy. He went over the whole thing repeatedly, and even examined the body, but still, could not find a clue—why would father do that?

He also suspected that this person was a fake. But he could find no evidence, and even the hidden wound at the back was a match.

Knowing Gerald was about to arrive at the king's city, he had to pretend to be calm, and replace the whole program. He would blame the death of King Wimbledon III onto Gerald, and then use his position as second heir to succeed the throne ahead of time. As long as the coronation was smooth, he would no longer be subject to territorial restrictions. This meant he could directly mobilize the power of the Duke of the Southern Territory to threaten Garcia and force her to give up the Port of Clearwater.

So it seemed that the outcome was not bad either, but Timothy could not help but feel uneasy... as if there were an invisible hand, that had unsuspectingly joined the struggles at the Kingdom of Graycastle. However, he was completely ignorant about it.

At the moment, other than firmly grasping the throne, he had no choice. Timothy Wimbledon swore to himself. If he found out who was behind this, he would be sure to let the culprit know the consequences of annoying a king!

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47 The Market and Cycle

Border Town had been fairly peaceful over the week.

According to Iron Axe and Brian, the strength and the number of demonic beasts would gradually increase as the Months of Demons continued. Taking advantage of the current defensive pressure, Roland sent a sloop loaded with ores to Willow Town.

Due to the use of the steam engine, the number of workers in the North Slope Mine had been reduced by half, while the output increased steadily, allowing it to the level it had been at before it collapsed. The use of machines greatly lowered the manpower required.

Meanwhile, Roland carried on a preliminary reform of the mining system, turning the fixed compensation into a floating salary. He set a daily average output tallied by Barov as a standard, and going above by a certain amount would end in additional remuneration. In addition, anyone who found gemstones or mineral veins could claim extra rewards. This measure effectively promoted the workers' enthusiasm, and lively scenes could be seen everywhere in mining areas.

Roland naturally would like to do something now that the ore was in his hands.

Besides the steam engine, he also planned to manufacture a series of machine tools.

Machine tools had a long history, and generally speaking, they were tools used to produce other tools. So an anvil, which was manually fixed and forged, could be regarded as the most original machine tool.

Making tools by hand was not all that bad, however, the issue lay in the ungainly positioning of the tools. Thus, people added clip or groove on the tool stand to fix the parts that were processed. The early harquebus and flintlock were both handmade on anvils with grooves.

As time went on, merely depending on manpower could not meet the demand of processing, and then the machine tools evolved and expanded. The machine tool applied different fixed methods and toolings according to different usages. In addition, the linkage of handwork and machinery could effectively improve the efficiency of process.

Roland considered making the manual milling machine.

Although the milling machine had versatile functions, he would simply use it to produce involute gears and its frame could be simplified. All it needed was a pair of card slots and a rotatable steel mill. With the help of Anna, a specific molding mill specialized in cutting gears could be easily produced. The top of grinding tool was polished into the shape of a trapezoid and was heated to a hot red state. Then marks were drawn with iron bars, followed by a quench hardening treatment in water. That was how a customized mill was produced.

After solving the key problem, Roland immediately called Carter to hire two carpenters to forge the milling machine base, while Anna continued to make other metal parts in the castle backyard.

There was no doubt that metal processing had become as easy as making pottery with the help of Anna, especially after she grew skilled in controlling her flames. The initial production of small parts all depended on her. Seeing her melting iron ingots into a fluid iron liquid and kneading it, Roland marveled unceasingly.

Without the witches, it would have taken over 10 years to achieve what he had imagined.

Two days later, the first simplified milling machine was placed in the backyard.

Recently, Roland had been busy designing a set of gears, which would be used to regulate the speed and stabilize the output of the steam engine. The relevant fluted discs were in the molding process. Once the milling machine was finished being assembled, the process of gear milling would be carried out.

Gears were nothing new for Chief Knight Carter. The drainage of water in most of the mines in the world was achieved by livestock pulling wooden gears with a winch mechanism. Carter was satisfied this time. He was able to understand what the prince was doing.

Roland told him to bring three blacksmiths and their apprentices to learn how to operate the milling machine in the backyard. It was unlikely that Roland was going to operate these machine tools, so he had to train some skillful workers.

After their respectfully saluting, Roland started to demonstrate how to use the milling machines to produce gears.

Roland did not mind serving as the demonstrator at all. Actually, he just would seem like a type of prince that had various hobbies. Besides, being considered as half-assed, it was easy for him to operate the machine tools.

Carter was responsible for pouring warm lard on the side. In that era, it was a waste to replace oil lubrication by lard. However, something was better than nothing. The lard fell down into a ceramic bowl after soaking the mill, and it could be used repeatedly.

Roland firstly carved an indentation on the fluted disc according to the designed angle. Then he set the fluted disc upright and fixed it on the working table. Next, he pulled the mill above the fluted disc, aiming at the inscribed line, then pressing the pedal. The belts transferred the power generated by pedal's wooden wheels to the mill shaft.

Later on, Roland held fast to the mill handle and pulled down slightly, and then the rotating mill cut the fluted disc slowly at an angle of 90 degrees.

As the material of the fluted discs was pig iron, it was not hard to carve the indentation, despite the fact that the mill was working the rolled steel after the quenching process. The air was thick with the fragrance of lard, causing the blacksmiths and apprentices who did not eat meat for a long time to swallow their saliva.

After the demonstration, it was time to sign the contract. The business in Border Town had just begun, and the industry was even more recent. Therefore, neither steam engines nor machine tools would get popular immediately. At this time, the majority of people could hardly understand the huge power those things represent or their potential. As a result, Roland had to promote the machines by himself.

The contract said that the smithy using milling machines had to process one set of gears every week. All the needed materials should be provided by the castle and the processing fee was ten silver royals. Besides, the machine tools were not free, and the process functioned more like renting. The smithy had to pay two silver royals to use the tools.

During the Months of Demons, the business in the smithy was not as prosperous as before. It was an order from the prince and it could also benefit the smithy. Thus, nobody went against this order. At the same time, Roland told them that it was the first milling machine and there would be more milling machines being produced constantly. Anyone who was interested could apply at the City Hall.

"Your Highness, why don't you directly make the processing fee eight silver royals?" Carter asked, confused, after the blacksmiths went away.

"The amount is the same, but the meanings are different," Roland explained. "This is probably the first commercial lease contract in Border Town. I need to set an industry standard."

Carter wiped his forehead, knowing that His Highness was talking nonsense. He had experienced this situation. The prince would carry on talking if he pretended to listen carefully.

"A good start can lead to a virtuous cycle. At present, only I need to buy gears, so I provide machine tools. They get rewarded for their labor. Later, when others also need them, the blacksmiths will realize that they can get more commissions from buying the machine tools than renting them." Roland paused, "Thus, whenever they confront new things, they would consider applying the method of alternative production to avoid the risks. I can get rewards by renting the tools out and the subsequent development of new things will be decided by the market. That's a virtuous cycle."

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48 The Assembly

With high spirits, Roland was about to give a long harangue on how to establish a reasonable market when there came the hum of horn.

This was unusual as only when the patrol team could not handle the issue would the alarm signal sound out.

Roland and Carter looked at each other and then rushed to the castle's backyard. Roland mounted the horse which had been prepared by the guards and headed for the city wall with Carter and his heelers.

When they boarded the city wall, the Militia was already in place. To Roland's relief, there was suddenly an array of guns on the top of wall. It seemed that the eggs did work.

Roland looked northwesterly, finding a group of demonic beasts approaching Border Town. Roland guessed there were about 20 evil beasts.

Iron Axe ran to Roland from his guarding position, giving a salute and reporting to Roland, "Your Highness, there is something weird about those demonic beasts."

"Weird? Do you mean that they generally don't take collective action?"

"No," Iron Axe explained, "colonial animals would forever be colonial animals. Take wolves for example. Their habitual nature won't be changed. However, these demonic beasts are not the same kind, and they are not supposed to take actions together. Some hunters even witnessed them fighting with each other before."

Demonic beasts were often mutated. They had a burning desire to hunt, were prone to be infuriated and did not know how to avoid risks. In a sense, they had lower intelligence than beasts.

Roland carefully observed for a while, finding different sizes and species of beasts, including demonic wolves and demonic bison. Roland thought it didn't mean that they knew the importance of collective actions.

Because they were still guided by the barriers and traps furnished by Iron Axe. All the beasts had been gradually getting close to the front of the city wall.

Van'er was so nervous that his wet palms could not grip his gun tightly. While nobody was noticing, he secretly wiped the sweat using his clothes.

The hunters who were responsible for observation repeatedly said, "Relax and take a deep breath." Van'er did as what the hunters said over and over. However, his could not cease to be nervous because he had heard so many rumors about how fierce the demonic beasts were for the past ten years when he lived in the Western Region. Since the start of Months of Demons, the Hunter Squad had killed some scattered demonic beasts under the city wall, which had eased his fear for them a little and he had thought he could be brave enough to face the fierce beasts. The fact was, he was not that brave.

Being picked out by His Highness to be Deputy Force Commander of the Spear Squad, Van'er tried to keep his expression calm, maintaining the appearance of an armed guard.

The beasts were getting closer to Van'er and he could recognize what they looked like. At the head of the beasts was a demonic bison, whose two shiny black embolons were as thick as his arms. Its fur was just like a cloak, fully covering its body. Van'er felt the ground was quaking while the demonic bison was about 70 meters away from the city wall. He licked his dried lips, waiting for the "thrust" order from the hunters.

A loud noise was heard.

The demonic beast did not slow down and directly ran into the city wall, shattering its brain and splashing its black blood.

Before Van’er could catch his breath, two demonic wolves swooped down.

"Stab!"

Hearing the order from the hunters, Van'er subconsciously raised his gun and tried to stab the wolves even though they were not in his attack range. The effect was not as good as they trained: Some thrust their guns immediately after the wolves jumped up, and some failed to react in time after receiving the order.

As a consequence, there was only one demonic wolf being pushed back, while another one fell down on the top of the wall.

"Stay in formation!" the hunters shouted loudly.

Although he was wondering which side the demonic beast would attack, Van'er still remembered what Iron Axe had warned them. When you focused on the things behind you, the danger would come from the front. He kept closely staring at the oncoming beasts, holding fast to his gun.

The Hunter Squad was obviously more experienced than the Spear Squad.

Before the demonic wolf fell down, the hunters had pointed their machetes at the beast. Iron Axe was pretty nimble; he directly dashed to the beast, smashed at its waist with his gunstock and then watched it roll a few circles in the air.

The demonic beasts were great in both physical stamina and defensive ability. Thus, such attack would not cause it too much damage. Alter falling down, the beast got up instantly and showed its sharp fangs.

Iron Axe had already pointed his gun to its forehead.

Then came a gunshot!

The skull of the demonic beast flew into the air and its body retreated back, collapsing and trembling.

"The damn beast was dead now. You need to continue keeping your position."

"Ah, my stomach." Someone was screaming.

Van'er glanced at him from the corner of his eye and saw a member of the platoon team sitting beside the city wall, hands stained with blood.

"His tharm was out!"

"It was scratched by the claws of demonic wolves."

"Please help me..."

"Damn it! Bind up with a cloth!"

The scene was chaotic. A few demonic boars with rough skin rushed at the city wall and were hit by crossbows of the hunters.

"Calm down!" Roland shouted loudly. He was blocked by Nightingale just now and arrived at this moment, "Don't you remember what to do if someone get hurt during the training? Follow the rules!"

What prince said reminded Van'er of his responsibility. As Deputy Force Commander of the city wall's defense team, there should be someone organizing the rescue when there was an injury.

He named his two teammates and said, "You take him to the hospital quickly!"

According to his previous experience, there was no chance that this man could survive. His Highness, instead, considered it to be more important to follow the orders and regulations, especially for the member of the Militia.

After the wounded were carried away, the order was restored on the city wall. The demonic beasts seemed to be of numerous quantities, only a few could impose threats on the people atop the city wall.

The Hunter Squad shot the left demonic beasts one by one and Van'er eventually took a deep breath. He felt he had use up all of his energy during this half an hour's battle.

At this moment, the hunters on the alert in the watchtower of the city wall shouted again, "My gosh, what's that..."

Van'er also saw it.

Although it was a long distance from the city wall, it must be a buster from its silhouette. Van'er firmly believed that it would be larger than ten cattle together.

Only Iron Axe recognized what that monster was at once.

He sucked in a breath. There was no doubt that it was a demonic hybrid and that this would bring them big troubles.

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49 The Demonic Hybrid

Roland could not believe his eyes. [What the hell is this? If the mutation of demonic beasts is at least biologically sensible, this monster is so incredible that it seems to have come out of a horror film.]

From a distance, it looked like a gigantic tortoise with two heads. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to have two wolf heads.

[Is this the guinea pig of Dr. Frankenstein?] Roland thought to himself. The gigantic demonic beast was as high as the city wall and almost six meters long, with six short and thick feet in the shape of rhinoceros' legs. The size of each leg was equal to that of an adult human's body. As for its heads, the two wolf heads were unlike those of the common two-headed monsters in films, which either let out howls in turn or snapped at each other. Instead, the two heads sank low, with their eyes dimmed and their movements like zombies.

The most eye-catching thing about it was the shell on its back. The shell's surface had a dim grayish brown color and was covered with moss. With one glance one could tell that it was incredibly hard. This shell was similar to that of a tortoise, it covered the monster from head to tail. If the monster could retreat into its shell like a tortoise, it would definitely be hard to kill it.

But Roland was not worried since a demonic beast that moved so slow was destined to be a target. Even if firearms could not penetrate its shell, it would be easy to hit a wolf head outside the shell. If it hid in the shell, they could blow it with dynamite.

"Your Highness, this is a demonic hybrid." Iron Axe approached him with a grave face. "Now I understand why there has been a collective action of demonic beasts of different species. They were all driven by this demonic hybrid."

[Just like a lion that drives a herd of sheep?"] Roland thought and nodded. "This one is rather different from the one you saw last time."

"It's also the first time that I've ever seen a demonic hybrid of this kind. Though it looks clumsy, you shouldn't underestimate it. Any of the demonic hybrids would be hard to tackle."

"It's almost within the range," Roland said, "and let the archers try first."

It snowed lightly, while the wind blew rather unpredictably from the northwest. The weather was not good for archery. But the two huntsmen chosen by Iron Axe seemed confident enough.

They ascended the lookout tower and shot their arrows according to their judgement of the instantaneous wind direction.

The two arrows behaved like a pair of eyes. After they rose to a vertex, under the influence of both wind and gravity, they fell and landed almost vertically on the targeted shell.

Just as expected, the arrows were repelled and this action even sounded off an attention tone like a game in Roland's mind.

The two huntsmen continued to shoot their arrows calmly for another two rounds.

The last round was successful because the arrows landed at the anterior of the monster. One arrow landed right onto a wolf head, while the other stuck into the neck of its target.

However, it did not screech angrily or increase its attacking speed. It stopped for a moment, and then hid its heads and feet into the shell while moving on.

This incident baffled everyone.

The beast looked then like a tank with its chassis lowered. The ridge of the shell almost touched the ground. In this way, even the best archer could not shoot their arrows into its body.

"Use flintlock." Roland commanded.

Now the target was about 17 meters away from the city wall. Even a flintlock without rifling could not miss it.

Carter and Iron Axe came to the parapet quickly, mounted their guns, aimed, and fired.

While the smoke was dispersing, Roland could see clearly how the bullets hit the shell and made tiny fragments sputter. A small section of the shell cracked. Yet the demonic hybrid was unaffected and maintained its speed.

[The hardness of the shell still corresponds with that of a carbon-based organism,] he thought to himself. It was a pity that the lead bullets were too soft and prone to deformation. They were unfit to penetrate the thick shell. It would be unrealistic to attempt to shatter the hybrid's shell with these four guns. They would have to resort to the explosive packages.

Iron Axe made the same judgement like the prince. He commanded Deputy Force Commander of the Spear Squad to carry the dynamite, while the beast was already butting the city wall. When it found it could no longer advance, its shell began to vibrate with such an unbelievable speed and hit the wall with high frequency like a rotary hammer. Stone chips instantly splattered and several cracks spread quickly along the weak spots.

The rubble wall had a high compressive capability, but yet its tensile and shearing strengths were extremely low. To be more specific, it was almost defenseless against vibration. The people on the city wall all felt it. Soon, a loud friction noise pierced the ears of everyone and informed them that the hybrid's shell had cut a slit into the wall.

Yet the crashing did not stop. The beast moved again until the whole anterior of its body was embedded into the city wall.

The Militia fled from the part of the city wall that was covered with cracks, while the invisible Nightingale carried the prince in her arms and jumped from the wall—if anyone had stared at the prince at that moment, he would find the prince had descended like an apparition.

When Van'er arrived carefully with a pack of dynamite, he found that the middle part of the city wall had an almost three-meter-wide opening. The demonic beast who had crossed the wall then stopped vibrating and continued to advance with its previous speed.

"Hurry up!" Iron Axe said loudly, "Light the dynamite and place it under the beast!"

Though his hands were shaking, Van'er retained the clearness of mind. He remembered every detail of the training about how to use an explosive package. Unlike the packages used in training, each of these explosive packages contained less dynamite and was sealed with wooden planks. Fragments of mining waste were stuffed between the packages and planks. Its firing equipment was also optimized with an extractor of flint and copper wire. When this part failed, at the end of the package there was still a normal fuse. He tore the cloth soaked with oil at the outermost layer in a flurry and pulled at the copper wire with all his strength. From the wooden box there soon came a short buzzing sound. Then smoke appeared—that was a sign it had been successfully lit.

The fuse that had been soaked in salt burned rather slowly and would take about 30 seconds to burn. The world turned quiet for Van'er when he saw the white smoke that came out of the box. He had seen how powerful this thing could be. If it exploded in his hand, not even a fragment of his corpse would remain.

27 seconds.

Van'er listened to his pumping heart and silently counted. He walked up to the demonic beast and placed the lighted explosive package on its path.

15 seconds.

Then it crushed the package. Nothing could stop its advancing movement.

9 seconds.

Van'er turned around and ran.

6 seconds.

3 seconds...

There came a boom. Van'er felt the ground beneath his feet vibrated. Then the world continued its hustle and bustle.

He turned and saw white airflow gush from beneath the shell—it was the snow on the ground that had been blown up by the explosion and looked like a misty flower. The demonic beast stopped advancing at last, as if it was unable to withstand the burden it was carrying. Its gigantic shell fell rumbling to the ground. Black blood gushed out from beneath the shell and soaked the ground.

"Ooh..."

There was a burst of cheer in the crowd.

Van'er fell and sat on the ground. Only then did he realize that cold sweat had soaked through his clothes.

[It had finally ended.]

When everyone thought so, the horn sounded loudly again on the border.

Another herd of demonic beasts emerged from the horizon and came toward Border Town.

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50 The Wall of Flame

"Do you feel better?"

Anna patted Nana on the back. She also felt like throwing up, but she restrained herself.

A wounded man was brought to them and while he was still conscious, he repeated, "Save me, save me..." The despair and plea in his eyes was heart-wrenching to watch. When she saw the bowel hanging out of his body, Nana vomited.

Even so, she made up her mind to complete the healing. After Brian placed the bowel back to the wounded man's body, Nana reached out her hand and healed the wound with her eyes closed.

"Um..." The little girl seemed a little dispirited. She leaned on Anna and said softly, "Today is the first time I heard the sound of the horn. Did His Highness get into trouble?"

"I don't know." Anna shook her head. She wanted to take a look at the city wall so much. But she was also worried that she might only make things more troublesome for Roland. She was now a little envious of Nightingale's power of invisibility, for that power would make going out very convenient.

At that time, there was a booming sound from the city wall. Everyone felt a slight vibration.

Brian stood up and walked to and fro impatiently in the room.

"Take it easy, lad." Baron Pine was wiping his sword. "Losing patience before going to the battlefield would only make bad things worse. Not to mention, now things are still far from bad."

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency," Brian answered. "I just can't calm down. I just don't want to sit here wasting my time while others are fighting on the city wall at the cost of their lives. Defending this little town should have been my duty."

"Perhaps." Pine shrugged his shoulders. "But the duty of defending the town doesn't belong to you alone. I've heard that His Highness will grant you the title of knighthood. Then you should understand that a knight's foremost duty is loyalty. If he asked you to protect Anna, then it would be your duty to obey."

"You're right." Brian returned to his seat after a moment's hesitation.

But soon, they heard the second horn blow—more desperate than the first and rumbling like a thunder in everyone's heart.

Pine frowned.

"Anna!" Nana cried out in surprise.

When he turned his head, he saw the witch walking directly to the door. Brian caught up and stood in front of her.

"Didn't you say that you wanted to defend the city wall? Now it's time," Anna said calmly. "As long as you come with me, you aren't disobeying the order of His Highness."

Brian became bewildered. He turned his gaze to Pine.

[That was clever,] the Baron thought to himself. [What she said makes sense. The prince didn't make it a rule that she should only stay at the hospital. According to Nana, she can summon fire. If things are really urgent, the participation of a witch might turn the situation around.]

Finishing his thought, he nodded. "Take care of her."

"Yes, I will," Brian became spirited instantly and replied cheerfully.

Seeing the two leaving, Nana asked, "Father, will you go to the battlefield?"

"My battlefield is right here, my sweet one." The baron smiled. "Whether they're demonic beasts or demons, I'll never let them hurt you."

The city wall was not far from the hospital. Anna and Brian ran eastward on the flagstone pavement along the wall. When they came to the central lookout tower, they realized things had escalated for the worse.

The city wall had then a huge opening. Roland's guards were defending the opening with shields, but still, a few of them were knocked down. Among the demonic beasts, there was one with the look of a boar that was particularly ferocious. The guards at the front who got hit were almost sent flying with their shields.

"Hey, it's dangerous here. You should leave right now!" Someone warned when he saw Anna in her strange outfit.

Anna acted as if she had heard nothing. She walked directly to the opening. When the demonic beast made its way through the crowd, it turned and headed for Anna. Brian the guard came to the side speedily, lowered his body and waved his sword horizontally—the frenetic beast did not dodge, and one of its forelegs hit the blade and sent the sword flying, while the force of its own body weight severed the leg.

It fell down shrieking and struggled like a fish out of water. No one dared to come close. Anna walked near it and placed her hands on the ground. Soon fire rose from under its body and quickly burned it into charcoal.

Roland also noticed the flame that emerged all of a sudden. When he found that it was Anna who did it, his heart almost leaped out of his chest.

That was never in his plan!

He had planned to make Nana win the affection of the Militia first. After most of the people had accepted witches as one of them, he would slowly make Anna known to them.

But now it was too late. He said immediately to Nightingale, "Pay no more attention to me now. Protect her first!"

[No harm must come to Anna. She's the key in the development of industrialization. If she was injured, the loss would be immeasurable,] thought Roland.

"Got it," Nightingale replied. "Take care of yourself as well."

Anna walked to the opening. Roland's guards made way for her since they had all seen this girl in the strange outfit many times. She stood right in a wall of shields, stretching her arms out horizontally. Flames grew from her hand like vines and climbed onto the surface of the city wall where the opening lay.

Everyone who saw this wonderful scene was dumbfounded. They could not believe their eyes when they saw a wall of flame rise unhurriedly and fill the opening in the city wall. This, however, could not be an illusion, because the high temperature of the flame made the guards step back involuntarily and the snow around melted instantly, giving rise to dense white mist.

The demonic beast also felt the heat of the flame wall. They fled from it, though a few still darted into the flame before they soon burned in it.

"Everyone, get to the top of the city wall!" Roland grabbed the chance and shouted, "Spear Squad, resume your formation! Hunter Squad, fire!"

After saying this he grabbed Carter's flintlock and ascended the wall, shooting at the demonic beasts which had no way out.

The prince's action inspired everyone. After all, in this era, the noble and the royal members hardly fought in the front. When Prince Roland chose to fight with the Militia whom he had selected from the common people, it seemed inspiring indeed.

Everyone shouted "Defend Border Town! Fight for His Highness" and resumed the defensive formation as if the city wall had never been damaged.

The fight lasted till dusk. There was eventually no more demonic beasts alive in front of the city wall.

The flame gradually dimmed and vanished. Anna wiped the dampness from her forehead and walked out of the opening.

Then Roland saw an incredible scene.

The guards all touched their chest and nodded respectfully to her. The Militia, as if affected by the guards, watched her quietly. No one shouted "demon" or "sorceress". Peace prevailed at the moment on the border.

An unknown power was dreadful indeed. But when the owner of it stood by the people's side and fought against the evil with them, trust and gratitude would gradually replace fear.

Roland tried to suppress his excitement and walked over to Anna, only to find her pale and staggering. It seemed she would collapse any minute.

"Are you okay?" He held the maiden's shoulders worryingly, while the latter gave a faint smile, passed out and fell in his arms.

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Table of Contents

- 1 Becoming a Prince
- 2 The Witch Named Anna Part I
- 3 The Witch Named Anna Part II
- 4 Flame
- 5 Reasons
- 6 Training Part I
- 7 Training Part II
- 8 Months of Demons Part I
- 9 Months of Demons Part II
- 10 The Stonemason
- 11 Princess Garcia
- 12 Firing the Cemen
- 13 The City Wall
- 14 The Ability
- 15 Misconceptions
- 16 The Road Ahead
- 17 The Ambassador Part I
- 18 The Ambassador Part II
- 19 The Lecture
- 20 Nightingale
- 21 I“m Not Going Anywhere
- 22 The Declaration
- 23 The Source of Power
- 24 The Development Plan
- 25 The Militia
- 26 The Experience Learned from History
- 27 The Pas
- 28 Fierce Scar
- 29 Brian“s Anger
- 30 Coming from the Mis
- 31 Our Friend
- 32 The Knigh
- 33 The Gunpowder
- 34 The Trial Blasting
- 35 The Home
- 36 The Negotiation
- 37 Tigui Pine“s Family History
- 38 The Era of Firearms
- 39 The Winter
- 40 A Family Letter
- 41 Demonic Beasts Appear
- 42 An Acciden
- 43 Be Strong
- 44 The Unspoken Answer
- 45 The Conspiracy Part I
- 46 The Conspiracy Part II
- 47 The Market and Cycle
- 48 The Assembly
- 49 The Demonic Hybrid
- 50 The Wall of Flame