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Today's events left Roland with no desire to assemble the steam boring machine. He specially asked the chef to prepare an exceptionally rich dinner, with unlimited black pepper steaks and fried eggs, enough to fill Anna and Lightning's bellies. Nana Wa tried her best to maintain her manners, but her little mouth was still shiny with grease at the end. In addition to the meal in the dining room, he also asked the maid to prepare insulated porcelain containers, filled with stewed, soft shredded meat and wheat porridge, and delivered them to Nightingale's room. As soon as they woke up, they could eat warm food.
After dinner, the next step was to arrange the rooms. Fortunately, the previous lord of Border Town was very particular about pomp and ceremony. A town born for mining and early warning still had its castle built to the standards of a medium-sized town. In Roland's familiar terms, it was a detached villa with a living area of nine hundred square meters, three floors, a duplex, with watchtowers and arrow towers at the four corners. It came with a front yard and a backyard.
Roland arranged Lightning's room across from Anna's, and he planned to leave the room next door to Wendy after she recovered. Seeing Nana Wa sticking to Anna like a piece of chewing gum as they walked into the room, he couldn't help but shake his head with amusement.
Back in his office, Roland poured himself a glass of ale. Plans never keep up with changes. He originally thought that through Nightingale, he could harvest a large number of witches and light up all the chemical, agricultural, biological, and other branches on the tech tree. He didn't expect the leader of the Association to harbor such great hostility towards the aristocratic class. Neutral parties like Nightingale and Lightning were in the minority. As for Wendy… according to Lightning, she didn't want to leave the Association voluntarily, but had to bring herself here after being attacked by Hakala, the Snake Demon, in order to save Nightingale.
Two is better than none, he thought as he downed the wine in his glass.
During the meal, he roughly inquired about the abilities of Lightning and Wendy. He learned that the little girl could fly freely in the air like a bird, and Wendy could manipulate the power of the wind. These two abilities weren't of much use for climbing the tech tree, but if used well, they could still be of great use in the upcoming war.
He also inquired about the abilities of the other witches in the camp and found that their abilities were diverse and completely unpredictable. Some effects could barely be explained by scientific theories, while others were completely unbelievable.
For example, Hakala, the Snake Demon, the creator of the Association, could condense magic into snake shapes - these snakes were not illusions, they could be touched and could attack enemies. Different snake patterns represented different toxins, and as far as Lightning could see, there were at least two effects: paralysis and death.
However, Roland discovered that the magic of witches like Anna and Hakala mostly only had an effect at close range. For example, Anna's green fire would suddenly disappear five meters away. Hakala's snakes could not leave her body too far either. Nightingale's and Lightning's abilities had even shorter ranges, and they had to make contact in order to affect external objects.
Therefore, when facing the Church's army equipped with crossbows and God's Punishment Stones, they had no choice but to flee in all directions.
He worked in the office until midnight, and the fire in the fireplace gradually dimmed. Roland sneezed and decided to go back to his room to sleep.
Pushing open the bedroom door, he noticed something was wrong - the scene before him was familiar. A woman was sitting on his bed, her figure half shrouded in darkness, the firelight casting her silhouette on the wall like a mural. But there were also many differences. She wasn't wearing her unchanging robe, but had changed into ordinary clothes. Her appearance was no longer the unfamiliar one he had seen at first, but one he knew so well that he could recognize her identity at a glance.
Nightingale.
Roland suddenly became a little nervous. This momentum, could it be… his good luck was coming?
Nightingale also saw the prince. She got up and walked over slowly. After only half a day of rest, her complexion was much better than when he first saw her. The paleness on both sides of her cheeks had been replaced by rosiness, and her hair was no longer dull and lifeless. It must be said that the self-healing ability of witches was indeed amazing.
"You've worked hard," Roland coughed and broke the silence. "Why don't you rest more? Lightning has already told me everything."
Nightingale shook her head.
Roland faintly felt that something was wrong. Her expression was solemn, and there was an unspeakable determination in her eyes. She's made a decision, Roland realized. Even men rarely had such a firm expression, causing him to restrain his other emotions and focus on waiting for her next words.
However, Nightingale didn't speak. She took a deep breath, then knelt down on one knee, raised a short sword with both hands, and lowered her head slightly - a standard knight's salute, often used by nobles when swearing allegiance to a superior.
"Prince Roland Wimbledon, I swear in the name of Nightingale and Veronica," she said crisply, "As long as you treat witches well, I am willing to be at your disposal, whether as a strong shield against demons or a sharp blade that cuts through the darkness, without fear or regret, until the last moment of my life."
So that's it, Roland thought. The actions of the Association had greatly disappointed her, so she had placed her hope for leading the witches forward on him. For a transmigrator like himself, he should refuse. He was more used to working together through hiring or cooperation, and if he went a step further, those with common ideals and aspirations would be comrades.
But he knew that sometimes emphasizing equality and freedom was meaningless. Without suitable soil for growth, even if seeds were sown, they would turn into decay. As a prince, he could not deviate from his class until he unified the entire kingdom.
Roland was silent for a moment, following the etiquette taught in the palace, he took the short sword and lightly touched her shoulders three times with the back of the sword, "I accept your allegiance."
Nightingale's shoulders trembled slightly, as if she had finally relaxed.
Then he held out his right hand and offered it to her.
Nightingale took his fingers and gently kissed the back of his hand. With that, the whole ceremony was over.
Although it seemed extremely inappropriate for a witch to perform the allegiance ceremony, the fact that she could complete the whole set of actions at least showed that Nightingale was not of common birth. And the Veronica she just mentioned… "Is that your real name, without a surname?" Roland asked as he pulled her up.
"Yes, Your Highness. I have no intention of hiding it from you. Five years ago, I left the Grantham family, and that surname has nothing to do with me anymore." Nightingale said frankly, dropping her last defenses against Roland, and briefly told him about her past.
She was born in Silverlight City, a city named for its abundant silver mines. Her father was a viscount, and her mother was a commoner woman. Such marriages were not common, but the two got along very well. In addition, Nightingale had a younger brother named Hyde. She spent her childhood in Silverlight City, which was also the happiest time of her life.