Night faded, and faint light filtered through the gaps in the curtains.

Dawn had arrived.

Agatha had barely slept a wink all night, her mind filled with Nightingale's words.

"The people throughout the continent are the most powerful group."

"Four hundred years can change a lot, why are you still clinging to old ideas?"

"Time is long, you can see for yourself."

She rolled out of bed, walked to the coat rack, and stroked the robe that symbolized the Taquila Seekers. She remembered the feeling of elation she had when she received the robe after being unanimously approved by the Three Seats. Exploring the mysteries of magic was her lifelong pursuit, and the Seekers' most devout belief was "existence is truth." If those mortals could truly prove their power...

Agatha put on the robe and pushed open the door to the hall.

In any case, she was probably the last member of the Seekers, and the only survivor of Taquila. Rebuilding the new Holy City was not something that could be done in a day or two. Before that, she might as well see for herself what the mortal prince was capable of that made the witches obey him so willingly.

After breakfast, Agatha, accompanied by Wendy, came to the gray-haired prince's office.

His attire was not much different from four hundred years ago, but the feeling he gave her was different from the common mercenaries, merchants, and farmers in the lower city, and even from the family's guard captain, Kaff—most of whom could be judged at a glance, and even their innermost thoughts could be guessed with near certainty, as simple as empty symbols. However, this method of identification could not be used on the prince, especially his eyes, which, although just ordinary gray pupils, seemed to be filled with indescribable radiance and confidence. Especially the latter, which was different from the confidence brought by blind optimism, but rather stemmed from a calmness and peace that did not match his age, as if he had lived... for thousands of years, and knew everything in the world.

Why did she have such a feeling?

His name is Roland Wimbledon, Agatha silently remembered the name in her heart.

"How was your rest last night?" he smiled. "The oatmeal and fried eggs after four hundred years should still be to your liking, right?"

"Barely. It would have been better if you hadn't sent a witch to enter my room without permission."

He paused slightly, then shook his head helplessly. "Okay, she'll knock next time. By the way, if you want to go outside and take a look, to see the towns and customs of this era, you can ask Nightingale to guide you. If you want to check historical books, you can ask Ms. Scroll, she has memorized all the books she has read."

"People's customs?" Agatha frowned. "The threat of the demons is imminent. I just want to see how you dare to boast that mortals can defeat the demons. If you can't stop their attack, history and customs are meaningless!"

The prince curled his lips. "Compared to heavy industry, light industry and people's livelihood are also important... Why is everyone interested in dàpào?"

"What heavy what light?"

"No, it's nothing..." he sighed. "You'll see. There will be a performance test of new weapons this afternoon. But before that, I have some questions I want to ask you—about the Holy City of Taquila four hundred and fifty years ago."

New weapons operated by mortals? Agatha couldn't help but think of crossbows and catapults. If they were just improved versions of these things, they would not be enough to deal with the demons. But she did not reveal her doubts, "Ask away."

"You mentioned before that the Holy City of Taquila was a city ruled by witches, and ordinary people without magic were only considered lower-class people. So how many meals did they eat a day? What was their staple food, and did they eat a lot of meat?"

Agatha couldn't help but be stunned. She didn't expect him to ask her such questions. "Commoners also had different status. Those who served high-level witches, doing odd jobs and city defense, were equivalent to the weakest auxiliary witches. Next were farmers and merchants, and finally slaves and coolies. As for what you asked, I can't answer—no witch living in the upper city would pay attention to what ordinary people eat. As for the guards and servants in my tower, they are all provided with three meals a day, and can eat meat once a week, except for the Months of Demons."

"What was their salary?"

"What is that, money?" she raised an eyebrow. "They became my followers, honored me as their master, and served me for life, and I gave them shelter and food, and taught them knowledge. Besides that, no other reward was needed."

"I see," he wrote something on the paper with interest. "Did witches participate in things like farming, raising livestock, and forging iron?"

"Of course, those were the jobs of auxiliary witches," Agatha replied. "Even they were much better than ordinary people—if it was left to mortals alone, it would not be able to meet the needs of the Union."

This kind of question and answer continued for nearly half an hour. He seemed particularly interested in the clothing, food, housing, and transportation of the major witch cities, and asked in great detail, which Agatha found difficult to understand. Instead of these unimportant things, wasn't he concerned about the demons that had already occupied most of the Dawn Territory and were about to launch another invasion?

The prince rested for a moment, and handed the recorded content to Scroll. "You said you are a member of the Seekers, and this organization specializes in studying magic stones and magic?"

Finally asked a decent question, Agatha nodded. "That's right. The so-called magic stones are all transformed from God's Punishment Stones. They can both suppress the power of witches and enable witches to exert completely different powers."

This sentence stunned everyone, and the witch who called herself Tilly blurted out, "How do you do it?"

She finally regained some of the feeling of being valued in the past, and couldn't help but feel a little proud. "This is the secret that the Seekers have been pursuing for more than four hundred years, and the effort spent to figure out the connection between magic and magic stones is countless. I can tell you, but you must also come up with knowledge that can improve the probability of witches awakening in exchange."

Tilly exchanged a look with Roland. "Of course, there's no problem with that, but I have a question that I don't understand." She raised her left hand, and the blue crystal ring on her finger reflected a striking luster. "This magic stone was discovered in ancient ruins. It allows me to have the ability to fly freely—there is no doubt that this magic stone has a huge effect. When fighting demons, whether it is offense or retreat, it can make the troops take the initiative, and it can also save a lot of travel time on weekdays." She paused. "But why did you still rely on walking when you retreated? Even a high-level awakened one like you doesn't have such a convenient magic stone. Isn't that strange?"