I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

When the nobles were still hesitating whether they should jump together, the loyal guards behind them had already tied them up swiftly and securely.

Amid the nobles’ furious curses, they themselves opened the main entrances and exits of the castle, allowing Mitia’s troops to capture everyone with ease.

Thus, the farce of the nobles’ assassination plot came to an end.

Taking this opportunity, Mitia widely publicized the nobles’ misdeeds in the riot at the train station across all major territories, further intensifying the civilians’ hatred toward the nobility.

She also issued bounties on the nobles still on the run, offering the same price whether alive or dead.

In addition to large monetary rewards, there would also be partial pardons for the past crimes of informants—a policy commonly known as imperial amnesty.

These conditions held little appeal for die-hard loyalists or those with too many unforgivable crimes on their hands, but for the middle- and lower-ranking nobles who had been swept along with the tide, the temptation was great.

After all, it was now clear to everyone that under the Astal Family, nobles had no room for survival.

Selling out their lords for some money to live a safer life seemed not such a bad option.

After handling the nobles’ aftermath, Mitia boarded a truck heading for the oilfield.

Yes, she was certain it was indeed an oilfield.

Natural gas usually coexisted with crude oil, and where there was gas, there was a high probability of oil.

Her field survey after the long journey confirmed her thoughts.

Not only was the air in many areas filled with natural gas, but even the water was blackened and flammable.

The visibility and scale of such phenomena indicated that the crude oil layer was very shallow—at the easiest level of extraction.

Once the target was confirmed, the rest became relatively simple.

Deep drilling was difficult, and without the proper materials it would all be wasted.

But for these shallow reserves, slightly modifying well-drilling equipment was enough to turn them into oil rigs.

Mitia could also build the heavy derricks needed for drilling.

Constructing an oil drilling tower—the nodding pump—was even simpler, since its operation was extremely similar to that of an old-fashioned steam engine.

Its main components were the walking beam, crank, counterweight, and support frame.

After boring into the well and inserting a double-layered pipe, the nodding pump, under the motion of the crank and rod, moved up and down within the inner pipe.

By using air pressure to force out the crude oil and natural gas, they would overflow through the outer pipe.

Of course, what was brought up was not only crude oil, but also groundwater and natural gas.

Therefore, a separation chamber was necessary, using the difference in density between gas, oil, and water.

The natural gas and other gases naturally rose, to be piped into larger flare towers for storage or combustion.

Crude oil floated above the water, flowing into storage tanks via upper partitions, while the water at the bottom could be easily drained away.

But even once in the storage tank, crude oil was not ready for use.

It still required refining—the simplest and most scientific method being fractional distillation at high temperatures.

Since the mixture of substances in crude oil each had different components, they also had vastly different boiling points.

At 100°C, the first vapors boiled off were liquefied petroleum gas and waste gases, which could then be piped away for secondary separation.

Between 100–150°C came gasoline vapors, condensed into usable gasoline.

160–200°C yielded kerosene, 220–300°C produced diesel, then lubricating oil at higher ranges, and beyond 400°C came asphalt and paraffin wax.

By heating, vaporizing, and condensing layer by layer, crude oil could be separated into all its useful components.

And of course, Mitia needed all of them.

It sounded simple, but in reality, it was all thanks to the system in her mind.

Otherwise, figuring out the correct methods would have required countless trials and painful lessons.

The system allowed her to look up the right answers as long as she thought of the problem.

Though it did not directly give her powerful weapons, knowledge itself was the most precious treasure, especially when it had been verified and proven—a priceless gem.

She was standing on the shoulders of giants, crossing the river with the wisdom crystallized by entire civilizations.

Knowing there was crude oil excited her, but upon seeing the black liquid with her own eyes, a trace of hesitation rose within her.

Crude oil was not her unique possession.

Once she began using it, other nations would eventually discover and follow suit.

That meant that industry, freed from the shackles of energy, would truly gain an unshakable foothold in this world.

The energy revolution was like a world-ending flood, destined to sweep across the land.

Other kingdoms, having already adopted steam engines, were unknowingly nurturing the sprouts of capitalism.

This energy revolution would inevitably trigger violent upheavals in the transition from old to new.

Every step of industry was arduous, built upon cycles of trial and error, and validated through war and bloodstained transformations.

Mitia gazed at the flames burning atop the water and silently thought: “It truly is, in a sense, the blood of demons—at least, for other nations it is.”

She, however, could use her memories and the system’s knowledge to avoid wrong choices and dead ends.

It was like standing before a maze while holding an ultra-clear map, with every dead end and the monsters lurking behind them already marked.

And each dead end on this map represented countless generations of repeated failures, broken foreheads, and lessons learned with blood and tears.

“Complete the survey of the reserves as soon as possible and submit the report to me. I want to build a new city here. Its scale will depend on you.”

Mitia crossed her arms, lost in thought for a while, then turned to the officer leading this mission.

“Understood!”

“Send more men to clear out all the beasts in the area. Relocate any villages, and incorporate the residents into the new city as natives.”

Finally, she added: “This place is extremely important to us. Take it seriously, understood?”

“I swear to complete the mission!”

Saluting, the officer left quickly to arrange the tasks.

Mitia also boarded the truck to leave—there was no need for her to oversee the rest personally.

Sitting in the jolting half-tracked truck, Mitia suddenly laughed as she looked at its crude interior, drawing strange glances from Anna, who was driving.

From Anna’s shy and annoyed expression, it was clear she had yet to recover from the holy water baptism.

Mitia’s laughter had a simple reason—she realized she had been worrying unnecessarily.

She, the so-called pioneer, had yet to accomplish much.

If she failed in the war against the outside and ended up another Wang Mang, it would not be impossible.

She hardly had time to worry about the future of other nations.

She admitted that the knowledge in her mind was the crystallization of countless people’s joint efforts.

As long as, in pursuing her own goals, she could also give back to the people and conveniently benefit herself, she thought that was good enough.

She would not be the kind of person who strove not for one lifetime but for hundreds.

One life’s fate was the fate of ten thousand lives.