I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

“According to intelligence reports, the number of servant flying race tribes under the Wolis Empire’s dragon race is extremely large, possessing immense war potential. The Alliance’s current air force numbers will find it difficult to gain an advantage in the upcoming war…”

“The ace forces among the orcs of the Empire of Mantogore, such as the Behemoth race, along with the Minotaurs and Trolls, possess extremely powerful physical bodies. Our light tank main guns are unable to inflict effective damage, and our infantry support firepower is somewhat insufficient.”

“The dwarves’ rune-inscribed heavy armor units have extremely strong resistance to long-range attacks. The number of large-caliber 152mm artillery pieces needs to be increased, and the Blood Race’s special abilities allow them to thrive on the battlefield…”

“In summary, in every aspect, we are the weaker side.”

‘No! We still have the navy!’

Someone muttered, but no one paid attention.

The navy was indeed strong—but all of that was premised on having air superiority. Otherwise, a massive and cumbersome fleet would simply become a living target for aerial forces.

Especially when facing something like the dragon race—thick-skinned yet agile—it would be even more troublesome. No matter how powerful the fleet’s main guns were, they couldn’t simply point the barrels straight upward to fire at enemies overhead.

Thus, specialized tasks had to be handled by specialists. Air power had to be countered with air power—that was the only reasonable approach.

Mitia tapped the conference table, and the hall instantly fell silent.

“All foreign trade, free trade, and all economic activities will cease. We will transition into a wartime economy…”

The Minister of Economy immediately stood up anxiously. “Your Majesty, that must not be done! Perhaps we can try to win over and divide the allied nations, turning some of them into our allies and reducing our losses…”

Mitia turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing. “A war involving tens of millions of troops and nearly a billion people—do you think things that cannot be obtained on the battlefield can be secured through mere words? Do you believe you are the only smart one in this world?”

Cold sweat poured down the minister’s forehead as his entire body stiffened, feeling a chill at his neck.

“The security of a nation cannot and must not rely on the charity of others. History always advances upon the blade of the sword. This world has always been one where the strong prey upon the weak. If we want survival and dignity, then this war must be fought.”

“Dignity exists only upon the edge of the sword. Truth—will always lie within the range of the cannons!”

With a loud ‘crash,’ a large group of generals and officers from the Ministry of War seats stood up, glaring fiercely at the minister’s bald head, eager to act.

Ignoring them, Mitia continued,

“I am not discussing this with you. This is an order. Immediately transition the entire nation into a wartime economy and enter Level One War-readiness Status.”

“All veterans discharged within the last ten years are to be recalled. All state defense zones will officially initiate military training for citizens under 18 and over 50.”

“All production capacity compressed under the wartime economy will be fully redirected into the military-industrial sector. At the same time, initiate the reemployment of retired workers. The minimum standard is that every continent must possess a complete self-sustaining military and civilian industrial system, ensuring normal operation even under external blockade.”

“The first phase will last five years. Within two years, completion must exceed 65%. The remaining work must be finished within five years. I want the Alliance to be fully transformed into a war machine within five years.”

“The standard: all major military regions will expand their forces to three times their current size. All sealed War Reserve Arsenals will be unlocked. Strive to arm 12 million standing troops and 20 million reserves.”

“Expand production capacity for armored vehicles, firearms, and aircraft as much as possible. Except for essential civilian industries, all factories will be converted to military production. Aim to expand output by more than five times the current level.”

“Meanwhile, flight clubs, driving schools, university campuses, and parks across all states will be opened free of charge, establishing technical training centers.”

“Your Majesty, this will inevitably result in tremendous sacrifices. The civilian sector will regress across the board, and years of development will be destroyed…”

Mitia glanced impatiently at the Minister of Culture who had spoken. Anna cast a glance as well, then had two soldiers from the Internal Affairs Department escort him out.

“Simultaneously, fully activate the propaganda apparatus. The Special Affairs Office will coordinate with the Propaganda Department to monitor and control all intellectuals based on their records.”

“From now on, I do not want to hear a single inappropriate remark in newspapers, among the public, or within campuses.”

“Remember—not a single word!”

Mitia stood up from the throne and walked out.

“If anyone is dissatisfied, regardless of age, issue them a military uniform immediately. I want to see them fighting for the nation on the frontlines.”

“This time, do not harbor any illusions. Our enemies will not give us a chance to make a comeback.”

Above the Belzetsk Fortress, two Holy Spirits of Light continuously unleashed pure white light-element magic, layering endless blessings upon their side. This prevented the witches—who were originally stronger—from achieving a decisive breakthrough.

Even the ordinary Church soldiers within the Super Fortress below seemed as if they had swallowed miraculous tonics. Their morale was fully boosted, constantly resisting the Alliance soldiers’ assaults and even launching occasional counterattacks.

Their senses had been largely sealed—no pain, and when injured, the rapid regeneration of their cells even brought them a strange sense of pleasure. Thus, even when their life force was completely exhausted and they died, their faces still bore expressions of bliss.

Above, the two groups of Saint-level combatants were locked in fierce battle. However, after new witches from Alliance reinforcements joined, the situation quickly turned one-sided—

Because among them was the Great Witch Funika, who had just returned from wandering in the western continent.

Compared to the relatively normal attack methods of the other witches, Funika’s style was vicious and shameless.

A dignified Half-God, yet she launched a close-range sneak attack on Church Holy Spirits who were only at the Quasi-Saint level.

The moment she closed in, the two identical Holy Spirits froze.

One of them had the two pairs of white wings behind her rapidly shift from white to pink. A seductive moan echoed across the sky. Before the Goddess of Light could even react, the Holy Spirit had already completed her corruption.

Below, Miwei’s face turned crimson, as if steam might rise from her head. She covered her ears and crouched on the deck.

‘Pa! Pa!’

Funika raised a conjured small whip and lashed the Holy Spirit’s hips. Pain and pleasure intertwined across the Spirit’s flushed face, producing subtle, soul-stirring sounds.

Under the gaze of countless onlookers, the Holy Spirit’s emotions fluctuated wildly. Her face showed a strange mixture of despair and lingering blush. The pink wings behind her grew from two pairs into three.

Within a rose-red pillar of light, she advanced from Quasi-Saint to the Saint level. Her elemental armor became more solid, and her aura surged rapidly. In a flash, she restrained another Holy Spirit, waiting for Funika to “enjoy.”

Ivdien’s expression shifted repeatedly, both furious and anxious. “You damned slut! Retreat, now!”

A powerhouse like Funika deliberately targeting weaker opponents was simply too overpowered. If they didn’t withdraw, everyone around her might soon be turned.

Once she was left alone, was she supposed to spread faith by herself? If not now, when would they run?

Funika squeezed the chest of the Holy Spirit beside her and giggled foolishly. “Ah, don’t go! I quite like your subordinates. Their quality is really not bad—very smooth~”

Watching the remaining female Saints flee rapidly, Funika shook her head regretfully. “Forget it, business comes first.”

Her expression then turned serious. The whip in her hand transformed into a staff, which she raised with both hands.

“I… pray to the supreme and exalted Magic Goddess—grant me authority… Death!”