I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

‘The royal bloodline must be preserved. Otherwise, we’ll most likely have to face him in battle, and if that happens, I won’t be able to control the scale of the fight. The hundreds of thousands of troops in your Royal Capital would probably be wiped out.’

Mitia rubbed Little White’s belly, thinking aloud, “If I win, then I want the lives of King Ovinia’s direct bloodline. The rest of the royal clan can be spared.”

‘Regardless of gender or age?’

“Regardless! I don’t have that disgusting habit of leaving behind little brats of my enemies as future trouble.”

“This is my only demand. Either the others in his line get out of my sight, or I’ll sacrifice tens of thousands of lives if I must, to slaughter him and his entire family.”

Sherria smiled.

‘It’s not that serious. The witches are all your backing. As long as you stand on the right side of reason, you don’t need to worry about those old fools refusing to play fair.’

“Hmm… can you tell me something honestly? Is there… a god among the witches?”

Mitia had always been curious about this, though she hadn’t known how to bring it up before.

Now that the topic of power had surfaced, she simply asked outright.

‘A god, huh? That depends on how you define a god~ If you mean a true deity like the Magic Goddess—the Mother of the World—then no.

She was the only one in existence, and she’s fallen.’

‘But if you mean a pseudo-god like the Goddess of Light, then yes, there are such beings.’

Sherria’s expression turned subtle.

‘Actually, it’s easy to tell whether a god exists or not. For a race to have its name formally recognized across the continent, having a god is a necessary prerequisite.’

‘And the same goes for nations.

To be called an Empire, one must have a god.

Thus, behind many of the empires on this continent, there stands a great race—this is an indispensable foundation.’

Mitia let out an “oh,” deflating a little.

With gods walking everywhere, what chance did she have? If any god took a dislike to her one day, she might be slapped out of existence on the spot.

Sherria flew over and hugged her head.

‘What are you worrying about? Think about why I’m here. The higher up you go, the less you need to worry. Just focus on what you’re doing now and leave the rest to us.’

‘Speaking of which, I don’t know whether it’s your good fortune or ours. Every great race supports a certain faction—except us witches. Do you know why?’

Sherria didn’t keep her guessing.

‘Because our kind is too diverse. Setting aside our shared identity as witches, we might’ve been dwarves, elves, or even demons before awakening. So, no matter who we support, it’s never quite appropriate.’

‘Our diversity of origins makes our bond fragile. Everyone’s thoughts differ. If we rashly supported a single race or introduced outside power, it might shatter our balance and plunge us into internal conflict.’

‘But what you’re doing now aligns perfectly with the situation we witches are facing.’

Looking out the window at the workers hurrying past the factory grounds—their appearances and builds all different, yet all dressed the same and performing similar tasks—

Sherria sighed softly.

‘Dwarves, humans, and beastfolk working together in one place… other than here, you’d only see that where slaves are kept.’

‘‘United in virtue and purpose, like-minded in aspiration.’ Comrade—we all quite like that word.’

......

Just as Mitia and the others had predicted, King Ovinia indeed sought foreign reinforcements.

The Kingdoms of Alesia and Paria both displayed great enthusiasm for forming an alliance.

Paria had old grudges, and Alesia had a patch of its land seized by Seris.

More importantly, neither could accept the rise of a stronger kingdom.

In its prime, the Kingdom of Ovinia had already pressed their living space to the limit, leaving them with a deep psychological shadow.

Now, such a powerful nation had been replaced internally by another regime—one that was extremely hostile toward the nobility.

They could hardly imagine how miserable their future lives would become.

Thus, the great nobles within Alesia had reached a consensus.

No matter what, they had to find a way to halt Seris’s path toward unification.

Not for that so-called King Ovinia III—but for their own survival.

But aside from those two potential enemies, the Seris Federation also received a visitor from afar—an envoy from the Dwarven Kingdom of Sekast.

Seris and Sekast did not share a border—perhaps they once did, but now they certainly didn’t, as the Kingdom of Paria had long been devouring Sekast’s territory bit by bit.

The Dwarven Kingdom of Sekast was in an awkward position.

In terms of weaponry, Paria couldn’t match them, but in terms of warfare, the plains-dwelling dwarves were completely outmaneuvered by the nomadic Parian cavalry.

And Paria fought dirty.

Because dwarves were naturally gifted in forging, Paria enforced a scorched-earth policy—burning, looting, and enslaving as they advanced.

Whenever they conquered a Sekast region, they would plunder all goods and abduct all the people to serve as slave artisans.

Those deemed unneeded would simply be sold to other nations.

It could be said that Paria’s expansion across the subcontinent owed a great deal to the contribution of enslaved dwarven craftsmen.

Just recently, Paria had captured the Praven region—an extremely embarrassing blow.

It made the dwarven kingdom feel like a ranch, harvested by Paria from time to time.

Thus, they developed a strong interest in Seris, this new nation that was actually pushing back against Paria’s territory.

Not only were they intrigued by Seris’s military prowess, but even more so by the inclusiveness of its system—it offered them a glimmer of hope.

Compared to Paria’s constant bloodletting, the militarily formidable yet ideologically open Seris Federation might represent a new turning point.

At the very least… whatever the outcome, it couldn’t possibly be worse than their current situation.

“I understand your reasoning, but… are you sure you want to leave her here with us?”

Mitia looked at the tiny brown-haired dwarf… little loli (?), her expression a bit peculiar.

“Oh yes, Your Majesty the Empress,” said the dwarven envoy respectfully.

“Nai is our king’s most beloved little princess. As you know, our nation is currently at war with Paria, so… we wish for her to live in your country for a time.”

The envoy looked kindly at the little loli, then turned back to Mitia with a bow.

“...Alright.”

“As for the alliance, I have no major objections. The specifics can be discussed in detail with our Foreign Minister.”

As the envoy respectfully withdrew, leaving only the little loli and two small attendants in the reception hall, Mitia looked at her and asked, “...What’s your name?”

Seeing the Empress’s gaze fall upon her, the little dwarf—who had been curiously staring at Mitia the whole time—tugged nervously at her skirt and said softly, “Tursun Nai Yalorim Brakwachevich.”

Mitia: “......”

‘You can just call me Nai.’

“Alright, Little Nai.”

‘I’m not little! I’m already thirty in human years!!!’

“Oh~ six years old then~ call me Big Sister!”

Nai: “......”