I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

The Astal army broke through the castle gates and swarmed in, faithfully carrying out Mitia’s orders.

Search, control, interrogate, confiscate.

When Graf followed behind the tightly bound Hunter into the underground reserve area of the castle and pushed open the heavy doors, his breathing suddenly turned heavy.

What entered his sight were woven sacks stacked neatly to the top.

Drawing his sword, he thrust hard into one sack, and when he pulled it out, it brought with it some yellowish-brown grains.

Graf grabbed a handful and brought it close to his eyes.

The delight on his face was evident.

Although the quality showed that it was old grain, it had not been stored for too long.

Grain! All of it was grain! And according to Hunter, their family had four such warehouses in total!

By this time, Mitia had also returned to the manor.

She hurriedly let her mother finish nursing her little brother, then continued to hold the tiny one and play with him for a while before finally beginning to prepare for proper business.

As for Graf’s side, she had never been worried from the beginning.

The Astal Family was a real enfeoffed noble house.

Their territory beyond the initial allotment had been won entirely by their own efforts, and the soldiers under them were truly hardened frontier elites.

Mitia did not have the legitimacy of the Marquis title, but she could still use the strength of the Astal Family.

That was why she reminded Graf to handle the Hunter Family in the name of the Astal Family.

Jurisdiction was a matter of legitimacy; whether to kill or not was a matter of strength.

The manor lords under the great lords had no direct ties with the king.

Territory was the sacred, inviolable private property of the lord’s family.

All disputes within the domain were decided by the lord, but nobles within the territory were enfeoffed by the kingdom.

The lord had the obligation to protect them.

If nobles suffered unreasonable treatment, the king could supervise or raise objections.

But Mitia was not yet an official lord, nor had she inherited her grandfather’s title.

She had neither the duty nor the qualification to be responsible for the nobles within the land.

Do not think this was redundant—other great noble houses with territory could have a dozen heirs by succession order.

Without legal reinforcement of legitimacy, everything would fall into chaos.

Thus, family forces would not obey the words of just any heir.

Only when formally enfeoffed by the king could they be mobilized.

Perhaps this was also why those manor lords instinctively ignored the danger, thinking that even if their scheme failed, there would be no severe consequences.

Before departing, Ackerman had left behind a group of the new generation in the domain—the youth army, who were now the main force of Uruk.

This force was what the Astal Family truly relied upon to control their domain, not some empty noble title.

One could only say that these nobles had been nobles for too long, courting death with their actions.

Mitia’s return was not only because her little brother was hungry.

She now had to prepare for the wave of rebellion that would inevitably come due to her decision to confiscate and exile.

Yes, she was certain there would be manor lords who resisted.

They would stir up enough commotion to force her to compromise.

But that was exactly what she wanted.

She needed a just cause.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

“Please, come in.”

“Anna... Mother?”

Eliza put down the tray she was holding, which carried black tea and delicate pastries.

Seeing it made Mitia sigh with emotion.

Even with famine and corpses outside, the material living standard of their class had barely diminished.

If she did nothing, she would most likely spend her life enjoying wealth and ease.

“Is your brother asleep?”

“Mm... he is very obedient.”

“May I see what you are drawing?”

Eliza’s beautiful eyes flashed with curiosity as she looked at the drawings on the table.

After receiving permission, she picked them up.

...

The paper was covered with various figures.

To be honest, she did not understand them.

But she had come today with another purpose, so she paid it no mind.

After putting down the drawings, Eliza organized her words and looked at Mitia:

“Mitia... isn’t your current decision too radical? Viscount Hunter, no matter what, is still a noble. It will be difficult to explain this to the royal capital.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s just... I think this isn’t good. These people may not be good men, but in the future they will be an important force supporting you in the kingdom...”

Gently rubbing the teacup filled with tea, Mitia quietly listened to Eliza’s words.

Originally, Eliza had planned that once Mitia became familiar with the affairs of the territory, she would be sent to the Magic Academy in the capital.

That place was filled with the children of great nobles and geniuses.

By the time she graduated, she would have a circle of well-connected friends.

Together with the children of the minor nobles within the domain, once she came of age and formally inherited the title and fief, she would already have a ready-made governing team and allies.

Eliza had never worried about Mitia’s future.

For the foundations her grandfather and father left her were more than enough to deal with these petty nobles.

Even if she suffered some loss temporarily, in the end they would all be forced to give it back.

But Mitia’s current approach was far too aggressive—confiscation, exile, imprisonment all in one sweep.

It made the conflict with the minor nobles one of life and death.

This completely disrupted the path Eliza had envisioned for her.

She thought Mitia was simply still too young—her temper flared, and she acted rashly.

A little reminder was needed.

Listening to Eliza’s nagging, Mitia suddenly rose and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

Eliza hugged her back with a smile and said: “What’s this? Not pretending to be a little grown-up anymore? Just a few words and you’re sulking?”

“Ah... Actually, I wanted to send you to the Britian Royal Academy, but it’s a pity your father and grandfather passed too early. It delayed you.”

Buried in her mother’s embrace, Mitia muttered softly: “No... I just think this feeling of holding you is very nice.”

Leaning against her mother’s chest, Mitia could not help but ask: “Mother, why is it that though we are all human, some are nobles, some are commoners, and some are slaves?”

“...Why would you think of such a strange question? Nobles are just nobles...”

Eliza could not answer her daughter.

For she herself had not been born noble—she only became one after marrying her father.

She too did not know what was wrong.

“Because we are strong. We do not want to labor, so we need hands to labor for us. We do not want to pay them, and to punish and intimidate ordinary people, there came to be slaves.”

“Later, in order to distinguish between ‘us’ and ‘them’, we called ourselves nobles, different from other ‘species’. We were born noble. Isn’t that so?”

Eliza said nothing.

The study was silent.

Mitia crossed her arms over her chest and stood at the window, gazing at the round moon hanging high in the sky: “Once, I thought perhaps this was fine. I was a beneficiary, I could live for a long, long time, and I had no reason to care about them...”

“But I can’t...”

“In the end, I was not born a noble. I cannot change the habit of looking at them as equals. I can clearly see the endless negative emotions hidden in their eyes.”

“My future is long. I don’t want to live under those gazes, especially when I could change it yet choose not to. I don’t know if my future self would regret it.”

The moon was always so bright and beautiful, yet beneath it was the endless night that swallowed everything.

Mitia always felt that something was missing.

Oh, right.

It was a little lonely.

“Mother, tell me—if ‘they’ had power to rival magic, to rival knights, what would they do?”

Eliza looked at the girl’s back.

Though her voice was gentle, it filled Eliza with a fatal sense of dread that made her hair stand on end.

“It’s revenge, isn’t it?”