As Knight left to take orders, Roland returned to the table. "You can heal animals—why do you still see witches as evil?" "The teacher said witches do things ordinary people can't. They might not look bad at first, but they're traps the Devil sets to lure more people..." The girl's voice faded. "I, I've never seen the Devil. I swear." "Of course you haven't. That's just the Church's lie. Your teacher was one of the deceived," Roland reassured her.
"The Church is a fraud?" Nana Wa's jaw dropped. "Why?" Roland shook his head, offering no explanation. Even if he had, they wouldn't have understood. When civilization hasn't matured enough, such bizarre phenomena inevitably occur. Without external incentives, people instinctively attribute natural disasters, human misfortunes, or inexplicable events to imaginary dark forces—historically, women have borne the brunt of these accusations.
In this world, witches who wield supernatural powers of unknown origin become prime targets for the Church. It goes without saying that the Church would never tolerate such aberrations. They would either canonize all witches as saints, claiming this as God's blessing, or hunt them down, branding them as the Devil's emissaries. Yet if the Church chooses the former, its divine authority would be severely undermined—since the witches 'existence bears no relation to the Church. Should the Church, which professes other gods, also canonize witches as saints, and all are deemed God's chosen ones, then whose God would be the sole true God?
The premise of coexistence among multiple God religions is the actual existence of gods capable of mutual restraint. If gods are merely rhetorical constructs fabricated through verbal rhetoric, how can they claim to share this world? Thus, every God religion asserts its belief in the true God, leaving pagans with only one path: physical annihilation. Similarly, they too must choose the latter, relentlessly persecuting witches.
It is not about preference, but about profit.
The chicken was already alive in the kitchen. When Knight came carrying its wings, it was still flailing and kicking wildly.
Nanava was left speechless as Roland pulled a silver dagger from his waist. He had Knight grip it firmly and thrust it into the chicken. After each strike, he would have Nanava tend to the creature, then switch tactics for the next round... repeating the cycle endlessly.
When the chicken that had been tormented for so long finally died, Roland gained a general understanding of Nana Wa's abilities.
She can restore damaged areas, including lacerations, fractures, and contusions. If a part is completely absent, such as after severing a chicken's claw, she cannot regenerate a new claw. However, reattaching the severed claw and applying her ability can heal the injury to its original state. Finally, she cannot reverse death; once the chicken dies, her healing ability becomes ineffective.
Throughout the treatment, Roland did not observe the "viscous fluid" she described. She simply placed her hand on the chicken's wound, and the wound healed at a visible rate. After a series of trials, Nana Wa's physical exertion was minimal, at least not as profuse as the sweat Anna experienced during training.
The only one who was upset was Nana Wa herself. She thought treating the chicken this way was too much, so she kept pouting and glaring at Roland until the experiment ended.
"Alright, stop staring and come eat something." Seeing this, Roland had no choice but to use the "Afternoon Tea Summon" technique to distract her. This move worked wonders on Anna, as he believed few girls of her age could resist the temptation of delicious desserts. And it turned out that Nana Wa's reaction to the exquisite pastries wasn't much better than the former.
After finishing the pastries, Roland had Nana Wa escorted away. Anna asked in confusion, "Why didn't you keep her? She's just like me—both are witches, aren't they?" "She has family, and her family hasn't discovered she's a witch yet," Anna whispered. "It's only a matter of time." "Exactly," Roland sighed. "So a little longer is a little better. Do you... miss your father?" She shook her head, her lake-like eyes showing no trace of emotion. The betrayal by her own father had left her utterly disillusioned. But without family, she would still have friends.
"Nanawa will come often. In fact, I plan to have her come here every two days to practice her abilities." Hearing this, she blinked her eyes and nodded quickly.
"Would you like to return to Teacher Karl's academy and study with other children like her?" Anna didn't answer, but he felt he heard her heart.
"This situation won't last long... As long as I'm here, you will eventually be able to live like ordinary people, and no one will take you away or send you to the gallows wherever you go. That day will come," Roland said, word by word. "I promise."
Ever since Carl Van Beurt took over the engineering department, the Fourth Prince Roland has been completely free from work.
Every afternoon, he would stay in Castle Garden, practicing with Anna or Nana Wa. Now Anna no longer needed extra clothes during training. Even when flames leapt from her fingers, she could handle them with ease, never accidentally setting her witch's hat on fire as before.
Nanava also put on the same Witch uniform. Though reluctant during practice, she obediently complied for the afternoon tea. Watching the two witches dart around the courtyard, Roland's dark humor found its perfect outlet.
Occasionally, he would visit the base of Beipo Mountain to inspect the construction progress. After over two weeks of work, the city wall had been extended by approximately 100 meters. In an era without modern surveying instruments, Karl directed the craftsmen to use a wooden pole to measure distances and verify alignment by observing the sun's shadow at fixed times each day. Watchtowers were strategically placed every ten poles to stabilize the structure.
The massive recruitment naturally caught Noble's attention in the town, but they remained silent—only Barov was consulted for details, as if the matter had nothing to do with them. Roland couldn't care less. These men's fortunes were all tied to the Long Song Fortress, and they'd never stay here to guard Border Town for him. He could even picture them huddling together in private, mocking his overconfidence.
It wasn't just the Nobles—merchants were no exception. After discovering nothing of value in Border Town's fur trade, the merchants had begun their return to the fortress. Their frustration over empty-handed returns naturally fell on the ruler, Roland. Rumors of Prince Graycastle the Fourth, Roland Wimbledon, having gone on a construction spree before the Evil Moon arrived—utterly foolish and ignorant—had already spread along the Red River.
At this point, few believed he could hold the town, and most didn't even consider it. After all, the Fourth Prince's reputation didn't include bravery in battle. Whatever he was up to, he'd eventually have to return obediently to the fortress for refuge.
Amidst the lively chatter of the crowd, Roland welcomed his first winter after the time travel.