Since the five witches from Sleeping Island arrived in Border Town, Roland had been in a state of excitement. After the dinner, he found himself unable to fall asleep in bed, so he had to get up and drink half a glass of white wine to force his body into sleep.
By the next day, when the cicadas in the courtyard began to chirp, he had already regained his consciousness. He got out of bed with vigor, washed up briefly, and walked into the office—at this time, the sky was just turning fish-belly white, and the first ray of dawn sprinkled evenly into the room through the French windows.
Roland looked around and didn't see the familiar figure of the past. Usually, when he pushed the door open, he could always see Nightingale lying on the chair, looking lazy. He couldn't help but smile, sat down at the table, took out a notebook from the drawer, and began to plan the upcoming witch cultivation program.
Wendy and Scroll would naturally take care of helping the newcomers to familiarize themselves with the environment and integrate into the group. What he had to do was to launch a sugar-coated bullet offensive, allowing the visiting witches to enjoy the unique comfortable life here. It didn't necessarily have to be successful to keep the other party in Border Town, even if they went back, it would be an excellent promotion for his territory.
When the sun had fully risen, Nightingale finally appeared in the office. "Oh? You're up really early today. Is it really as Lily said, you can't hold back with the new witches?"
"Don't talk nonsense," Roland smiled and placed a bag of dried fish on the table. "How was it getting along with the new sisters last night?"
"Sisters?" She curled her lips, "Don't trust them too much."
"What's wrong?"
Nightingale reached for the bag, turned around, and sat back on the recliner. "The witch named Sylvie tells half-truths in every ten sentences. Although it's not serious enough to be malicious, she definitely has a lot of small thoughts."
"Hmm... understandable," Roland said nonchalantly, "Maybe she wants to see if I'm really Roland Wimbledon."
"Huh?" Nightingale was slightly stunned.
"If your relative's temperament changed drastically, you would definitely wonder if he had been replaced or controlled, right?" he laughed. "I guess Tilly sees me that way. In the royal capital, I was famous for being idle, ignorant, and bullying the weak and fearing the strong. How could I stand up to protect witches?"
In fact, any bad comments were not an overestimation of the Fourth Prince. He even found such a scene in his childhood memories: the Fourth Prince accidentally broke several crystal glass jars while playing in the palace. To avoid punishment, he not only pushed all the responsibility to Tilly Wimbledon, but also forged the scene, throwing his six or seven-year-old sister into the glass shards. With this kind of dark history, it would be strange if others were not impressed. Now it is normal to suspect that the brother whose temperament has changed drastically is no longer himself, and anyone would want to explore it.
"Hearing you say that, I also want to know," Nightingale asked curiously, "Are you really Roland Wimbledon?"
"I am, and I am not," Roland spread his hands.
She was stunned, "Why does my ability tell me that this sentence is true?"
"Because that's the way it is." Nightingale's ability can only distinguish deliberate lies, and he doesn't think he is lying.
"..." She frowned and thought for a long time, then held her forehead and decided to give up thinking, "Forget it, I'll just ask Anna directly in the future. Anyway, as long as you are the Roland I know."
"Of course, since I met you, I have always been me," Roland smiled.
After breakfast, the five witches from Sleeping Island were brought to the office by Wendy.
"Good morning, Your Highness," the five bowed their heads.
"Relax, I'm not a very particular person about etiquette. You can call me the same way you call Tilly," Roland waved his hand, "I won't arrange any work for you in the first week, mainly to familiarize yourselves with the environment and life in the town. You can visit Border Town at will, and no one will speak ill of you because you are witches, or try to capture you for a reward—I have eradicated the Church's forces from the Western Region, so here is the same as Sleeping Island, a place of ziyou."
"I think you should all know the reason for the magic backlash, so necessary
practice cannot be abandoned. There are no xiànzhi during the day, just don't forget to come back for lunch. After dinner, there will be elementary education classes, including literacy and writing, as well as simple mathematics and natural knowledge. Tilly may have mentioned to you that the witches' abilities can be further enhanced in addition to adulthood, so mastering this knowledge is very necessary. Those who are interested can come and take classes with the witches in the town."
"In addition, you will receive a reward of one gold dragon per month, as well as weekends and paid leave—if you don't understand, you can ask Wendy. In short, everyone's daily life is the same as the Witch Alliance. Sleeping Island is the witch's home, and Border Town is the same." Roland paused, "Then let's test the abilities first. Tilly's description in the letter is not very clear, I want to see it with my own eyes. It's not convenient to use it here, let's change to a spacious place."
"Please wait a moment, Your Highness, I have something to give you," Sylvie said.
"What is it?"
She opened the package in her hand and placed a few yellowed parchment papers and a letter on the table, "Lord Tilly found these texts in a fjord relic. She wrote all the questions she wanted to ask you in this letter."
Roland suspiciously opened the envelope. The letter was not long, and he quickly saw the end, but the content recorded in it set off a huge wave in his heart.
A man-made stone island sleeping on the seabed, unpredictable tides, a telescope that can still operate after hundreds of years, and a stone gate built on a cliff... It's incredible, why are there such incredible relics in the fjord? And Tilly's inquiry at the end also made him feel a chill down his spine—after glancing at the parchment papers, he found that these words did look familiar.
"Quick, call Scroll," Roland instructed Nightingale.
Scroll quickly returned to the castle from the city hall. When she summoned her magic, the prince couldn't help but frown.
It turned out that the "Saint" brought out by Hakala from the Eastern Region Forest relic and the documents found in the fjord relic used exactly the same characters! Tilly's guess in the letter was confirmed. These ancient relics were all from the hands of the same group of people.
If the Church built all of this, why did they abandon them all? And not only these magnificent buildings, but even the records of four hundred and fifty years ago were erased without a trace. What exactly do they want to hide?
Even the scorching sun in midsummer could not make Roland feel a trace of warmth. He only felt a faint chill rising from the soles of his feet, eerie and cold.
Is the stone tower that Lightning found in the Misty Forest also related to these relics? And the Evil Beasts, the Demons, and the Holy City of Taqila... What kind of changes happened four hundred and fifty years ago? Roland felt a strong sense of unease in his heart.(。)