I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

When John had already entered the open sea via submarine, been picked up by the naval fleet, and successfully returned to the Alliance’s territory, a night passed. The next day, when the maid noticed that the couple still had not come downstairs, she knocked on John’s door.

No matter how she knocked, there was no response. Driven by curiosity, the maid pushed the door open—her scream that followed marked the beginning of a grand drama in the Church State.

【John has run away!】

The rumor spread like a hurricane through the ears of all the high nobles. They had no time to think about killing him; instead, they immediately dispatched private troops to forcibly take over the United Bank.

Why? Of course, for the silver coins stored inside the bank as reserve funds!

The bank’s accounts were very clear. The reserves of Glory Silver Coins, common silver coins, gold coins, and other precious metals totaled roughly 800 million in current Church-issued paper currency. Adding the 200 million that had originally been in the treasury before the United Bank took over minting rights, the total came to just over 1 billion.

Was that a lot? Of course it was!

But in front of the current market value of the Wokingmeh Consortium, it was nothing at all. Based on stock prices, the consortium’s market value had already surpassed 2.5 billion. Even two Dmitria Churches combined were not worth as much as a single company.

And that calculation was based on the inflated Church paper currency. If converted using Alliance exchange rates, it was actually less than 200 million.

Meanwhile, the United Bank had issued about 4 billion in currency backed by stocks. Because the market had high expectations for the stock, another 1 billion had already been printed—just not officially released yet.

Five billion in paper currency, backed by less than 200 million in precious metals.

Everyone was scrambling like mad for the precious metals in the bank vaults. They could already hear the ticking sound in their ears.

Once the weekend ended and the stock exchange reopened, the shares they held would become completely worthless. No one would be willing to take over those positions.

At the same time, they launched a full-scale manhunt for John, the culprit behind it all. Even the King and the Pontiff were alarmed. The Pontiff even used a divine spell of the Goddess of Light to track John through his personal belongings.

There was no response.

This meant one of two things: either John was no longer within the range of the Goddess’s faith—meaning outside Dmitria—or he was dead.

News spread rapidly, especially since minor nobles were also involved. When they learned that John had fled, they too tried to withdraw their funds. But with the high and mid-level nobles not even finished yet, how could it possibly be their turn?

Thus, internal conflict erupted.

Unknowingly, the news leaked out.

At first, the rumors were ignored—until people tried to use Church paper currency in shops and were refused, or found prices soaring dozens of times above the official rates.

Only then did they realize.

No—after barely two seconds of realization, the price tags doubled again.

When Monday arrived and the stock market opened, the stock price of the Wokingmeh Consortium immediately hit the lower limit and closed. Less than five minutes after opening, the stock exchange shut its doors.

Money had truly become worthless.

Only precious metals like silver coins could still be used to purchase goods. Meanwhile, the value of paper currency collapsed—from originally 1 silver coin exchanging for 0.25 paper currency, to 2500, 3000, even 5000—jumping wildly.

And this was under the King’s strict order forcing all noble territories to accept paper currency. Otherwise, no one would have accepted it at all.

Before the public could recover from the panic of the paper currency crash, the value of silver coins and Glory Silver Coins suddenly plummeted as well.

The truth could not be hidden forever.

Once counterfeit silver coins entered circulation, some inevitably ended up in special uses—such as being melted down into silver rune inscriptions or magic arrays.

One after another, unlucky engravers and mages were splashed with molten metal explosions during smelting. Only then did people notice the hidden tricks inside the coins.

Through violent magical testing, it was discovered that among newer silver coins, eight out of ten contained hidden mechanisms. A single magic projectile could turn a pile of coins into something more festive than a holiday explosion.

The purity of silver was insufficient.

Naturally, the value of silver coins collapsed instantly. Precious metals had inherent value, but the Alliance’s earlier counterfeiting methods had stripped away about 70% of the silver content—so the coin’s value had to fall accordingly.

Thanks to John having sealed these coins as reserve funds from the beginning, only the Church State suffered the explosion. Other regions had not yet been affected by such catastrophic consequences.

But this became the final straw that crushed the people’s sanity.

Enraged citizens of the Royal Capital gathered in the streets, shouting slogans as they stormed into the Royal Palace. With the guards’ tacit approval—and the Pontiff’s helpless avoidance—the King was dragged into the streets and paraded publicly.

What did it feel like to be pelted with money?

The King of Dmitria experienced it personally.

There were no rotten eggs or spoiled vegetables—only money raining down on him. Bundles of 100-denomination paper currency were hurled at his head. He could clearly smell the fresh ink on the notes.

Soon, that smell turned into the scent of burning.

What awaited him was not the guillotine, but the most vicious execution the believers could conceive—one used to purge heretics and demons.

Burning at the stake.

They used money to fuel the flames that consumed him.

No one stopped the raging crowd, because the Dmitria Kingdom’s credibility among the people had already fallen to rock bottom.

Not just the kingdom—even the Church was attacked. Large numbers of furious believers stormed into churches and set them on fire, because the Pontiff had once endorsed John.

The Church demonstrated, in the most direct way, the analysis taught earlier in Alliance courses:

Faith was merely an emotional support.

If it could not even fulfill that role—and instead caused greater harm or betrayal—then what followed would be the most severe backlash and revenge.

All the arsonists were eventually arrested by Church soldiers who rushed in as reinforcements.

But those who had gone that far were already victims whose families had been destroyed by the collapse of the monetary system. They had no intention of surviving.

Due to convenience and the deposit account system of the United Bank, most ordinary people had already converted their savings into paper currency.

Now, their passbooks contained nothing but paper money—yet even two sacks of it might not be enough to buy a single loaf of bread.

The remaining silver and gold coins were mixed with counterfeits. Most shops only accepted half a silver coin per transaction—because only by cutting them open could one verify their contents.

Brute force destruction would trigger the internal miniature rune circuits, causing explosions. The resulting metal fragments were easily lethal to ordinary people.

Thus, a new profession emerged: coin cutters.

Traditional mages handled this job more easily, as their magic shields could protect them—but their fees were high.

Soon, a group of desperate ordinary people also entered the trade.

By tapping, observing, and using various methods, they screened coins for safety before cutting them open. For every usable coin they processed, they earned a commission.

If they failed—

it became compensation for their families.