Chapter 344 (1/2)

Chapter 344: Past Events (Part 1)

Your Highness?

What a queer form of address… It’s something you’d only hear in the tales of old.

Attempting to move her eyes was a struggle. She tried casting her gaze to the side only to see a gray-haired man enter her field of view, several women standing by his side.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly.

“…” she didn’t reply, asking a question instead, “Where am I?”

“Border Town, Kingdom of Greycastle’s western territory.”

Great, she thought. Things currently looked to be developing in the direction she least wanted them to: an unknown location, an unknown time period, and unknown people. She wanted to get up out of bed, but she discovered that she couldn’t muster a single iota of strength.

“I am Roland Wimbledon, the fourth prince of the Kingdom of Greycastle as well as the feudal lord of Border Town,” he continued after a short pause, “These girls are members of the Witch Union. You… Do you not remember anything?”

Witch Union? she frowned, So they’re witches? I don’t know what kind of newfangled organisation this is, but at least we’re alike. Still… Why do they look like this man’s subordinates?

Wait, a prince?

She thought back for a moment and couldn’t help feeling stunned. Wasn’t this one of the titles used in the secular regime during the First War of God’s Will over four hundred years ago? Could it be… Did I return to a time before the start of the great war? Could the gods have possibly given me another chance to start over, to make preparations, to rescue the Holy City and its people?

No, calm down, she told herself, This kind of completely illogical affair would only occur in a fictional tavern story. That’s right, she thought while trying to recall the scene at the end. There was a horde of Mad Demons that had charged into the experimental lab’s basement and she had discharged all the magic in her body to construct the sturdiest possible ice barrier. A magic stone of reverberation had been set to release distress signals non-stop, awaiting the day they restored their fertile fields and could locate her again.

“Were you the ones who saved me?” There was no mistake, she had already escaped from the ice barrier so the only possibility was that the witch’s army had returned! “Have the Devils withdrawn already? Have we won!? The Holy City… What happened to the Holy City of Taqila?”

Having blurted out this series of questions, she saw the faces of the other party change. They looked at one another with expressions of joy and excitement. “We really did find you in the basement of a stone tower,” said a witch with a mature looking face and auburn hair. She clearly couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you truly someone from four hundred and fifty years ago?”

That person reminded her of the miraculous Holy Warrior who had fought against impossible odds. That woman’s hair had also been like this, like a flame igniting everyone’s spirit. She was more willing to answer the witch’s question than the one the grey-haired man asked. She did not usually care much for social hierarchies, but she nevertheless found being interrogated by someone beneath her somewhat offensive.

Had it been her petty master in her place, this man would most likely be severely punished.

“My name is Agatha, a witch of the Taqila Exploration Society,” she paused, “What do you mean by four hundred and fifty years ago? Don’t tell me… Have you been fighting with the Devils for over four hundred years? That’s impossible.”

“You’ve slept for a very long time, things might be a little different from what you imagine,” said the man who called himself Roland, “If you think it won’t be a burden to your body, we can fill you in slowly.”

“Go ahead.”