TALES OF A WITCHER - Season 4 Episode 53
As the night wore on, a soft ray of light peeked through the cracks of the curtains.
It was daybreak.
Agatha had barely slept all night. Her head had been spinning with Nightingale’s words.
“The mortals of this continent are the most powerful ones.”
“So much can change in 400 years. Why can’t you let go of past ideas?”
“You still have much time ahead of you. You can confirm it with your own eyes.”
Agatha rolled out of bed and walked over to her clothes-rack, resting her hand on the robe of the Taquila Quest Society. As she reminisced about gaining the unanimous approval of the Three Chief Witches when she earned this robe, her spirits leaped with joy. Exploring the mysteries of magic power had always been her lifelong pursuit, and the Quest Society’s most revered motto was “Existence is truth”. So, if those mortals really could prove their ability…
Agatha put on her robe, opened the door, and walked towards the grand hall.
“In any case, I am probably the last member of the Quest Society, as well as the sole survivor of Taquila. If I want to rebuild a new Holy City, it will take more than a couple of days. But before that, I might as well have a look at what this mortal prince could possibly be capable of to have witches at his beck and call.”
After breakfast, Agatha, accompanied by Wendy, went to the office of the prince with gray hair.
At a glance, the Prince looked no different from people of 400 years ago. However, he gave off an aura unlike a common mercenary, merchant, or farmer, but it was also different from Kaff, her head of family guards. It took only one glance to see right through these kinds of people, whose deepest thoughts were usually very easy to read, as if they were only symbols on a piece of paper. However, she could not perceive the prince in the same way, especially his eyes. Although they were a simple set of gray pupils, they seemed to be filled with indescribable radiance and confidence. More importantly, this confidence was not blind optimism. It exuded a kind of calmness and peacefulness beyond his years. It was as if he had lived for… thousands of years, and knew all that was in this world like the back of his hand.
“Why do I feel this way?”
“He is Roland Wimbledon.” Agatha thought, silently memorizing this name.
“How did you sleep last night?” He smiled. “Did the oatmeal and fried eggs 400 years into the future suit your tastes?”
“It was so-so, but it would have been better if you hadn’t let a witch barge into my room.”
He was stunned for a moment, and shook his head resignedly. “Alright, she will knock next time. Oh, by the way – if you wish to take a stroll outside to explore the town and people’s customs, you can ask Nightingale to show you around. If you wish to read history books, you can ask Scroll; she has kept all the books she read in her mind.”
“People’s customs?” Agatha frowned, “With the dangers of demons looming over us, I would love to see how you have the audacity to claim that mortals can defeat demons. If you can’t fend off their attacks, all the history and customs are completely meaningless!”
The Prince smirked and said, “Compared with heavy industry, light industry and civilian livelihood are just as important… Why are you so interested in cannons?”
“What do you mean by light and heavy?”
“Nothing… Never mind…” The Prince sighed, “You will soon see, and we’re going to test new weapons this afternoon. But before that, I have some questions to ask you – questions about the Holy City of Taquila 450 years ago.”
New weapons mortals operating ? Agatha’s mind immediately went to crossbows and mangonels. If he simply updated these weapons, they would not be nearly enough to defeat the demons. However, she did not let her skepticism show. “Ask away.”
“You mentioned that the Holy City of Taquila was a city ruled by witches and that mortals without magic power could only belong to the lowest class. How many meals did mortals eat in a day? What was their staple food? Did they eat a lot of meat?”
Agatha was stunned. She did not expect him to ask such questions. “There were also ranks within the mortals. The mortals who served Senior Witches by running errands or protecting the city had the same standing as the weakest assistant witches. Below them were farmers and merchants, and lastly came slaves and coolies. As for what you asked, I have no idea – no witch in the Upper City ever paid attention to what mortals ate. As for the guards and servants in my tower, they were all provided with three meals a day. Except for the “Months of the Demons”, they got to eat meat once a week.”
“What was their salary?”
“What is that, money?” She arched her brow. “They became my attendants and vowed to serve me for life, and in return I gave them shelter and food, and I imparted my knowledge onto them. They didn’t need any other compensation.”
“I see.” The Prince scribbled furiously on a piece of paper and asked, “Did the witches participate in farming, livestock breeding, or iron forging?”
“Of course, all of these things were done by assistant witches,” Agatha replied. “Although they were only assistant witches, they were far superior to commoners – if commoners handled the work alone, they could never fulfill the Union’s needs.”
This back-and-forth went on for almost half-an-hour. He seemed to be especially interested in basic necessities of life in major witch cities and asked extremely detailed questions, which confused Agatha to no end. “Compared with these insignificant matters, isn’t he concerned about the demons who have already conquered more than half of the Dawn Region and are about to strike again?”
The Prince paused for a moment and handed his notes to Scroll. “You said that you were a member of the Quest Society and that this society specifically studied Magic Stones and magic power?”
Finally, such a decent question was asked. Agatha nodded, “Yes, the so-called Magic Stone is transformed from God’s Stone of Retaliation, and it can suppress a witch’s ability, but it can also give her unique powers.”
These remarks were a shock to everyone. The witch who called herself Tilly blurted, “How is it done?”
Agatha finally felt a rush of her past importance and was quite pleased, “For the past 400 years or so, the Quest Society made endless sacrifices to pursue the secret of the relationship between magic power and Magic Stones. I can share it with you, but you must also share your knowledge of increasing witches’ awakening rates in return.”
Tilly and Roland exchanged a glance, “No problem, but I am still confused by one thing.” She lifted her left hand, and the blue crystal resting on her finger glinted with a striking light. “This Magic Stone was discovered in the ancient ruins and enabled me to fly – there is no doubt that this type of Magic Stone is immensely powerful. When battling the demons, it will give troops an advantage in both attacks and retreats. Not to mention, it saved quite an amount of time in my daily commute.” She paused, “So why did you still retreat on foot? How was it that even a Senior Awakened Witch like you did not have such a convenient Magic Stone?”