Release that Witch

Chapter 539: The Melting Ice

Translator: TransN Editor: TransN

Agatha had a busy day. By the time she returned to the castle, the sky had turned completely dark.

Pushing the door open, she was surprised to find Wendy waiting for her in the living room.

"Why did you work till so late again?" Wendy asked, frowning, but in her tone, there was not the slightest meaning of blame. Only a little bit of concern. "I hope you can come back earlier next time so that we can at least have dinner together."

"Sorry, I lost track of time," Agatha said as she took off her coat and hung it by the door. "My mind was all on producing the last batch of nitrogen, so I didn’t notice the sky already turned dark when I left work. You should blame the Lord, turning on the lights in the chemical plant, making it as bright as daytime."

"I brought you dinner," said Wendy as she sighed helplessly. "It’s on the table. It’s still hot. So, hurry."

"Thank you," Agatha said, feeling touched. "Wendy is the most respected witch in the Witch Cooperation Association and is deeply trusted by the Lord. If she were in Taquila, she would have been at least an executive officer under the Three Chiefs. It’s absolutely impossible in the Union for such a person to bring me dinner."

"You’re welcome." Wendy patted her on the shoulder. "If you feel tired, don’t hesitate to ask Echo to sing a hot spring song for you... Don’t forget you’re also a member of the Witch Union."

The Witch Union...

After the door was closed, Agatha kept still for a moment, and then went to the table and opened the metal insulated box.

The box contained three dishes and one soup: a fragrant barbecue steak, fried mushrooms, sliced bread, and egg soup. To her surprise, in a corner of the box was stuffed a small dish of honey.

She could not help but swallow her saliva.

Even Wendy noticed that...

During their decades of fighting against the demons in Taquila, all kinds of materials became more and more scarce. Naturally, that included food. Although Agatha was a relatively high rank, her daily meals consisted mainly of grains and fruits planted by assistant witches. Of course, she could eat meat, but its supply was not very stable. Things like spices, sugar, and honey were out of the question—the first two were a luxury exclusive to the high-level Federation officials; as for honey, witches who were able to keep bees were all sent to the battlefield. This was because the Federation would not "waste" them on producing such unessential sweet stuff.

In fact, she was very fond of eating sweet stuff, especially honey.

During the barbecue feast, when most people would choose pepper powder and salt as a seasoning, she just quietly brushed a whole jar of honey. She did not expect that Wendy had noticed that.

She suddenly felt something strange happening in her heart—because she could not feel coldness, she was not very sensitive to warmth either. Also, she had rarely used hot water while bathing because she did not want to bother Anna. Considering her own identity and origin, Agatha asked Roland to arrange a separate room for herself, just as her residence on the top floor of the test tower.

But now, she felt a little cold in the room.

Perhaps living with others was not a bad idea...

Agatha took out the honey, evenly smeared it on the bread, and slowly put it into her mouth. At that moment, she genuinely felt the warmth brought on by the fragrance and sweetness of the food.

...

After dinner, she planned to read "Elementary Chemistry" for a while before sleeping. The knowledge within might not be able to help her to further promote, but at least it could save her from feeling embarrassed in front of the common people.

Recently, a batch of strangers came to the chemical plant. Paper told her that they were all from the Alchemist Workshop of the king’s city. Every day, Agatha could see them walking between the laboratory and the chemical plant—sometimes led by Kyle Sichi, and other times by Kyle’s student, Chavez. But, whenever Agatha saw them, their faces had an expression of disbelief—one could stuff an egg into any of their mouths—as if that was the only expression they could show. Besides, several of them were excessively curious and seemed to take her as a famous alchemist. Whenever they got a chance, they would pose questions to her. In the beginning, the questions were extremely simple, but gradually became somewhat difficult to cope with.

In order to maintain the dignity of the Senior Witches and the honor of the Quest Society, Agatha decided to keep her image in their eyes.

After spending those days with the commoners, she once again confirmed that what the Union did was wrong.

Roland has proven the wisdom of the noble, and the wisdom of these ordinary people is no less than that of the witches. It only took these ordinary people a few days to master the operation of the nitrogen equipment, while at the same time understanding the process of extracting nitrogen. In the beginning, they were arguing about the number of elements in the air, but now they were already discussing the composition of synthetic ammonia. Even a few white-haired old men, while smiling shyly, consulted with Paper, who was greatly startled.

Obviously, they’re rapidly learning everything around them.

At this thought, Agatha felt overwhelmed with emotions. "The witches are neither the fortunate chosen by the deities nor the unfortunate abandoned by the deities. Essentially, they’re no different from the common people, which is a certainty of the destiny." In this Battle of Divine Will, all should bare their corresponding destinies, and the witches are only a small cluster of people."

Perhaps this is the original intention of the deities. With any part missing, human beings can’t win in this battle of destiny.

Suddenly, there came a knock on the door.

"Come in," Agatha said and turned around. "The door isn’t locked."

Then, a tall, blonde, unhooded woman came in, but Agatha felt this woman was always shrouded under a shadow.

It was Nightingale.

"Anything you want?" Agatha asked her.

"His Majesty Roland wants to see you."

"If he wants to emphasize the theory of balancing work and rest and convince me to come back earlier, I already knew it and will pay attention to it in the future," Agatha said, twitching her lips. "No need to waste his precious time on me."

"Really..." said Nightingale, she blinked and felt Agatha was not bad-natured if one did not make an enemy of her. "This is only one of the reasons. His Majesty also said he wants to fight the demons."

Agatha was startled for a moment. "What?" Tossing the book on the table, she said, "Quickly, take me to him!"

...

Agatha rushed into the Lord’s office. Before Roland could say anything, Agatha asked anxiously, "For the moment, we can’t even put together ten Longsong Cannons and you want to attack Devil’s Town? Do you think they’re as fragile as human beings who throw away their helmets and flee after thousands of them are killed? You’ll ruin the city and the good situation here!"

"Huh?" Roland looked astonished. "What’re you talking about?"

"Aren’t you planning to fight against the demons?"

He looked at Nightingale and chuckled. "No, that’s not my plan. I don’t want to destroy their camp. I only want to catch a few living demons."

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