You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 255 Should you just answer his question?
Roman roughly knew the witches' true fighting strength.

Saying it's the lowest level of a third-tier knight is a bit conservative.

When used properly, witches paired with support troops can achieve the effects of fourth or fifth tiers.

Witches with wide-range abilities, such as Lucia and Mabel, can play a tactical role at crucial moments.

Next up was Margaret.

Roman now knows that the witch forest is a continuation of the court witch system from the time of the conquerors.

At its peak, the Witch Forest had eight seated witches.

However, Leona of Thunder, Frida of Phantom, and Petra of Rock died in the Battle of the Holy City.

There are currently five seated witches: Bloody Margaret, Twin Felicia, Lost Mona, and Prophet Isabella.

The last remaining witch, Valia of Frost, is currently in the north, and is said to be in poor condition and on the verge of death.

Therefore, Roman was very interested in Margaret, the only known seated witch.

Using the Conqueror Knight as a benchmark, the Seat Witch is basically equivalent to a high-ranking knight.

A high-ranking witch is not necessarily a seated witch, but a seated witch is always a high-ranking witch.

However, the criteria for seats in the Witchwood were more lenient compared to the Conquerors' era.

“Margaret’s magic is dangerous,” Shasta told Roman. “I suggest we stop while we’re at it.”

"Tell me more specifically."

"Her blood magic can manipulate blood—her own blood, and the blood of her enemies..."

Roman said with great interest, "Then wouldn't she be invincible?"

"Of course... that's not the case. High-ranking knights are resistant to Margaret's spells, and the higher the rank, the stronger the resistance."

There are many ways to resist blood magic, but it remains a very threatening spell.

“Margaret’s general spells are not much stronger than ours. When she doesn’t use blood spells, you can consider her a mid-level witch.”

Shasta's persuasion dissuaded Roman from having any thoughts about testing Margaret.

Since we know that Margaret's general spells are at the level of a mid-level witch, and her talent spells are very dangerous, there is no need to test them.

Roman headed back home and learned some news along the way.

Margaret's magic is evil and against the natural order.

She once took the lives of fifty or sixty mercenaries in one go.

That's not fifty or sixty candles or straws.

Since even mercenaries have this effect, Roman is certain that his soldiers will also be unable to withstand the blood magic.

Although they wore simple plate armor, some of their spells could cause true damage.

To stand before Margaret, one must meet any one of three conditions.

Firstly, it is strong enough to resist the effects of magic.

Secondly, she wore gemstones such as amber and jade.

Thirdly, equip yourself with special armor. Mithril is the best material, followed by adamantite and orogen, while magic steel also provides a slight resistance.

If the above requirements cannot be met, then even consumption cannot be achieved.

Because Margaret can draw power from the blood to slow down her own depletion.

This spell reminded Roman of the Scarlet Duchess.

The ruler of the Azure Moon, a legendary vampire, an enemy of the sun, and a darling of the moon. That cursed land is home to many monsters, but none are as famous as the Queen of the Azure Moon.

"Are you a vampire?" Roman asked Margaret.

She turned her head and looked at Roman.
"I'm not."

Margaret has long, blood-red hair and pupils, and her face is unbelievably beautiful, like that of a young girl. Her skin is also very delicate. She holds a high position in the witch's forest, and they call each other sisters.

"How do you use your magic?"

“Life has a spirit, and that spirit cannot flow out. Blood contains a spirit, yet it can flow out. I call it forth, and it flows through my hands… The more blood flows out, the weaker their souls become. Ultimately, those weakened souls will go to the underworld…”

Roman asked curiously, "What is the Netherworld?"

"They call it Heaven, but it's not sacred at all. It's dark, deep, eerie, mysterious, and filled with deathly silence..."

“Believers say that the devout go to heaven after death, where they are cleansed of their sins and reborn,” Roman said. “I think that’s a lie. It’s just a vague spiritual belief. Now you’re telling me that place really exists?”

“That’s just a destination,” Margaret said. “At the end of our lives, we will see the path to the underworld. It’s a winding path, lined with peaceful, soul-guiding flowers, one end beneath our feet, the other disappearing into the void…”

“Margaret, you can study those strange and unusual magical theories yourself, but don’t teach them to others!”

Gwen interrupted her with a smile.

Margaret returned to her previous silent state.

Gwen then said to Roman, "Sir, that's just a rumor. Some people have taken the wrong medicine and experienced hallucinations, so they start spreading these illusions. These strange things are like horror stories; why should we try to find out what they really are?"

She shrugged as she spoke, "Just take it as a piece of advice from an old person."

She looked like a shameless, shrewish woman in her forties, and it wouldn't be surprising if she sat on the ground and threw a tantrum. She didn't look like a woman in her sixties at all, and Roman wondered if she had gone through menopause.

Roman scoffed. "I will judge the truth behind those horror stories myself."

Gwen said insincerely, "I'm doing this for your own good. Who knows, the truth behind those horror stories might be even scarier than the stories themselves."

Roman ignored her alarmist talk, determined to find out their background, and rode away on his own.

Anyway, there is a long way to go.

A group of witches followed him slowly.

“Margaret, don’t talk to him about those unseen things. It would be bad if you piqued his interest. We finally found someone who’s somewhat reliable, don’t let him jump into a fire pit!”

Margaret said calmly, "He asked me."

"You just answer him when he asks you? Why don't you just say you enjoy killing people!"

Margaret said, "It's no use talking to them; killing is not allowed here."

"You're incorrigible, aren't you!" Gwen cursed.

They returned to the manor just in time for lunch.

Although it was an exercise, Roman required them to actually cast spells so that the soldiers could experience the power of those spells and inflict heavy damage without losing combat strength.

They all died in the exercise, and it wasn't easy for them in reality either. They were all listless and exhausted.

But upon seeing the lunch in the manor hall, all fatigue vanished instantly.

The side dishes weren't as plentiful as yesterday, but they were still quite plentiful.

Fried bacon, fried chicken legs, smoked sausages, pork skin jelly, caramelized pork knuckle, and stewed sheep's head.

Humans are born to eat!
I ate like crazy!
The witch sighed, saying that when they were on the run, they never had anything like this to eat. If they wanted meat, they had to steal other people's sheep and chickens, or hunt wild animals.

However, neither the former nor the latter was easy to obtain, the processing was very troublesome, and there were no seasonings available, making it an inhuman existence.

(End of this chapter)