Just as Vendy had said, the next morning, the witches were called to the first floor by the maids. After breakfast, the Prince handed each of them a piece of fine parchment. Considering that some of the witches couldn't read the words, Scroll repeated the contents to everyone. Then they signed and pressed their fingerprints.
Roland knew that it was difficult for them to really understand the meaning of each line of the contract, but it didn't matter, they would eventually understand. He also knew that even if it was a contract of slavery, they would still sign their names at this moment. Roland didn't feel that providing a relatively generous contract was an act that would make him suffer a loss. Since he had chosen to walk this path, he had to look further. What he was doing now was to form a good cycle in the future, a win-win framework that could be implemented in the long run.
After putting away the contract, Roland arranged everyone's training tasks according to the plan he had drawn up last night, and then called Leaf, Scroll and Soroya to follow him back to the office.
After closing the door, Nightingale appeared and winked at her sisters.
"I've been thinking about what Vendy told me yesterday," Roland opened the curtains, letting the bright sunshine into the room. "She said that you encountered a terrible monster, and in the end, only seven of you survived. Even the mentor of the Witch Cooperation Association, Cara, died in the Barbarian Land. I want to know, in the end, what did you encounter, a hybrid demonic beast? "
Leaf was the first to speak: "It wasn't a demonic beast, they were demons from the Gates of Hell. They had a tall body, could control demonic beasts, and also had magic, just like …" She hesitated, "Just like us."
"Demons?" Roland frowned and looked at Soroya. "Were you there at the time?"
The latter nodded.
"You can draw the scene at that time, right?" Roland handed over a piece of paper.
Soroya closed her eyes, looking a little pained, but she still took the paper. She walked to the table.
As she used her ability, a faintly discernible quill appeared in her hand. The tip of the quill glowed with a colorful light. Then, it flew out of her hand and started writing on the paper. A vivid picture gradually appeared on the paper, but Soroya never opened her eyes.
Roland moved closer to the table. The picture on the paper was extremely realistic — no, he told himself, it was not a picture, but a real-time recording of the scene at that time. Her ability was like a video camera, replaying the massacre in the Wildlands from a first-person perspective.
When she finished painting, Soroya's forehead was covered with sweat. Obviously, this memory was like a nightmare to her.
Nightingale poked her head over and asked, "Is this a demon?"
"That's them," Leaf pointed to the one closest to her. "This demon is wearing metal gloves. He can summon Lightning to attack. He's also very strong. More than a dozen sisters died in his hands. The devil in the distance could throw a spear several times faster than a crossbow bolt. However, their special attacks could not be used continuously. I took this opportunity to kill them. "
"You alone?" Roland asked.
"The leather tube under the demonic beast's helmet is the devil's weakness," Leaf pointed to the iron devil's neck. "Cara's magic snake bit off his tube and eventually died together with him. I used the same method to kill the other one with a crossbow. The tube seemed to store some red gas. When the gas leaked out, they died. "
Well, this thing looked like an oxygen tank no matter how he looked at it. How could there be such a creature in the Wasteland? Roland was puzzled. But to say that they were aliens was obviously not at that level. Looking at the leather tube full of patches and the clothes made of animal skin, it could only be said that the level of civilization was comparable to that of his own.
Whether it was through technology or magic, the fact that they could take the initiative to go to other planets showed their strength — the earthlings even had to stagger to land on the moon.
Of course, he couldn't rule out some strange civilizations with crooked talents. Roland thought, in short, the "devils" were not invincible enemies, they could also be killed.
"In addition to the devils, we also saw a floating city," said Leaf. "No matter how far we went, it was still in front of us. Lightning once mentioned in her adventure story that it seemed to be a mirage."
"Can you draw it?" Roland asked Soroya.
She nodded, summoned the magic pen again, and drew the floating city that Leaf had mentioned on the paper.
Roland carefully looked at the picture, but there was not much information in the blurred picture. If the city was really a mirage, then at least it meant that the real body was somewhere in the Wasteland. And the blood mist over the city was the gas that the devils breathed. This explanation was much more reliable than what the aliens had said, after all, the vast continent west of the Impassable Mountain Range was a mysterious area that no one had ever set foot in, so it was not surprising that other races existed.
Now there was only one question left. "I heard Nightingale and Vendy mention that Cara decided to look for the Holy Mountain because of an ancient book," Roland asked, "Scroll, have you read that book?"
Scroll hesitated for a moment, "Cara didn't allow anyone to read that book, but … I've peeked at it. The words recorded in it are messy and … incredible. "
"Can you make a copy of it? Let me see. "
"That's not true, Your Highness, the non-existence of the Holy Mountain has proved this," she sighed and raised her right hand, "I hope you won't be fooled by the contents of the book."
A gold-rimmed book appeared in the air, the cover opened to both sides, the pages flipped quickly, and then with a bang, it closed and fell into her hand. "Your Highness, I hope that you are the only one who reads it. I don't want to see other sisters become like Cara. "
Roland took the book, "I know."
After the witches left the office, Nightingale quietly appeared beside the sofa. As usual, she lifted her robe, put her feet on the low table, and chewed dried fish slices.
"Don't you want to come and see?" Roland asked with a smile.
Nightingale snorted disdainfully, "I'm not interested in the things that lunatics like to read."
He shook his head, sat back at the table, and carefully turned the pages, as if the book really had magic.
As Scroll had said, most of the content was difficult to understand, and it seemed that the language and grammar were not the current way of writing. The text mentioned the Bloody Moon and the huge stone gate, but he didn't see the two words "Holy Mountain". In fact, except for a few words that he could occasionally understand, the rest of the content was basically unreadable – to sum it up: I know every word, but I can't understand them at all. He didn't know if it was because Scroll was panicking and peeked, which caused the content to be missing, or if the book itself was like this.
Roland skipped those lengthy paragraphs and directly flipped to the back. It was a rather thick book, and only the first few pages had content, the rest were all blank. From the last page onwards, the handwriting suddenly changed, the previous neat handwriting became sloppy, as if it had been hastily jotted down, but the content was clear and easy to understand.
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