I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

Best accompanied by “Cornfield Chase” and “No Time for Caution.”

Citizens across the Alliance who could hear the words of Mitia’s blessing could not help but cheer loudly:

“Long live Mitia!!!”

The waves of cheers rose and fell across the Alliance, bringing with them not only the joy of the festival itself, but also the meaning behind the celebration.

The Festival of Birth was the final holiday of the year—a time when people celebrated the birth of the Goddess while praying that She would bless the coming year with fewer disasters, so they might survive peacefully.

In the past, they could only offer meager food in humble supplication for favorable weather. But now, it was different—they placed before the Goddess abundant food and splendid gifts.

A change in living conditions was always more convincing than mere words—it was something people could truly believe in.

Their prayers, once filled with desperation for survival, had become wishes for the continued prosperity of the Alliance, for peace and happiness for themselves, their families, and Her Majesty the Empress.

Yesterday had been fulfilling. Tomorrow was filled with hope.

And that was exactly what Mitia wanted to see.

The foundation of the world lay in nations, and the foundation of nations lay in families.

Patriotism and familial affection intertwined like a soft, resilient bond, tying every individual’s growth to that of the nation.

Personal fate, familial happiness, and the country’s future resonated together—in rhythm, inseparable...

While the people rejoiced and celebrated, Mitia quietly withdrew. The church lights dimmed gradually as Anna and Miwei stepped onto the stage, each sitting before a grand piano.

The melody of “Cornfield Chase” from her previous life echoed through the Holy Light Cathedral, instantly drawing every gaze. As the piano progressed, the grand pipe organ—previously only a magnificent backdrop—came alive under Mitia’s hands, playing its first movement in this otherworld.

All hearts trembled in unison. Light, grand, and mysterious tones reverberated throughout the cathedral.

No one had ever heard such a song before, yet many found their eyes reddening. They did not know why—it wasn’t sadness, but awe, beauty, vastness, and hope.

Countless emotions intertwined and surged with the rising music. Before them, the enormous pipe organ felt like humanity itself facing the divine—layer upon layer of sound cleansing their very souls within the enclosed cathedral.

Even the citizens caught up in their festivities halted, as if they could glimpse through the music a magnificent world unseen.

When the sound finally cut off abruptly, the people remained dazed, as though the echoes still reverberated in their minds.

The Red-robed Archbishop of the Dmitria Church had leapt to his feet the instant the organ’s first cry resounded, staring in disbelief at the structure he had dismissed as mere decoration.

Before it had made a sound, he had never imagined it was an instrument. Who the hell would believe an instrument could be the size of an entire cathedral?!

There was no time to let the crowd recover. The three rose and switched places, and more nuns stepped onto the stage.

Mitia sat in the main seat that had remained empty, looking at the countless keys and levers before her, at the pipes stretching up beyond sight, and once again marveled at her own genius.

This was something that would have been considered a miracle even in her previous world—and she had built it by hand.

It could simulate the sounds of every instrument in a full orchestra, its range extending across more than nine octaves.

It could emit both infrasound and ultrasound—frequencies inaudible to the human ear. Within the church’s domed ceiling, the reflections formed standing waves that made the audience feel the waves of sound washing over them from head to toe.

Its high notes were thunderous enough to shake heaven and earth, yet it could also whisper as gently as a lover’s breath—truly, the King of Instruments!

A new piece resounded through the cathedral once more. The faint melody moved forward slowly and painfully, near to white noise, as the organ began again.

The solemn, majestic sound shook the soul, as though one were advancing with difficulty through the whirlpools of a vast sea.

“No Time for Caution.”

It went by many names, but Mitia preferred to translate it as “All or Nothing.”

Halfway through, the pitch rose to another level.

The spiraling melody felt like humanity—frail and small—struggling against fate itself. Time flowed by, watching mankind press forward ceaselessly along the river of history.

Awe. Reverence.

The lingering auditory afterimage from “Cornfield Chase” endowed this climbing melody with an indescribable depth, embedding itself subconsciously into every listener’s mind.

In fact, the bass harmony of this spiral segment was none other than the main motif of “Cornfield Chase.”

The “chase” was humanity’s endless curiosity and unceasing exploration of the world.

It began with it, and it ended with it—through its aid, humanity transformed, denounced the darkness, and charged toward light, toward hope!

Mitia closed her eyes, feeling her spiritual power surge outward at a terrifying pace. The numerous organ stops all pulled open as if by invisible hands.

She struck the keys with force—instantly, the scales shifted. A vast wave of sound formed a wall of music that flooded the cathedral. That mighty wall was the resonance of humanity’s defiance of fate—every note a hymn to mankind.

The airflow driving the pipes carried with it a distinctly human breath. The sacred organ seemed alive, like a roaring giant.

Each wave of sound higher and heavier than the last—the tens of thousands of copper pipes trembled madly.

Beneath the cathedral, countless massive bellows—driven by magitech engines—pushed torrents of air into the breathing organ.

The deafening roar of sound and the holy harmony of the nuns intertwined, embracing the organ’s “breath.”

With every sacred chorus, Mitia could feel her spiritual power expanding outward—from covering Sera, to the entire Alliance, to the whole subcontinent.

The penetrating waves, amplified by sound magic across the nation, resonated above the skies of the Alliance, breaking through the limits of magical sound transmission, echoing in the ears of every citizen.

The vast world seemed connected through the playing of Mitia—the small and the divine becoming one.

Aisha appeared in the cathedral’s hidden corner, carrying Sherria by the scruff of her neck.

Seeing Mitia on stage, bathed in gold and white light, her silver hair flowing though no wind blew, Aisha’s mouth opened into a perfect O.

The low piano tones struggled and surged, yet the organ’s main melody led them to the final climax—where every emotion exploded under the extreme pressure of sound.

The cathedral’s exquisite stained glass quivered violently. The representatives sat within the great resonating chamber of the organ, “numbly” receiving this baptism from “heaven.”

Mitia felt an incomprehensible transformation within her body. She seemed to see countless citizens, eyes wide and tear-filled, listening to the voice of a “god.”

At last, as the emotionless yet ever-ascending single note rose like a divine hymn, every soul was purified.

Though the performance had ended, its lingering resonance refused to fade, etched deep into their minds as the endless echo of ascension.

No one spoke within the church. None of the performers moved. All seemed to be enveloped in an absolute silence.

Music was the one thing that transcended language, faith, and race—it was the purest communion of souls. Through it, they felt themselves drifting into an infinite void, the concept of time dissolving away.

Suddenly—

From beneath the great organ, a violent elemental surge erupted from the tiny figure on the bench. Inside and outside the cathedral, across the entire Alliance, it began to rain crystalline droplets—tiny red and blue crystals of frost.

Seeing Mitia’s power climbing ever higher, Aisha’s expression grew impossibly animated. With one hand, she traced a spell circle in the air, opening a mirror projection above the Witches’ Domain.

“Holy hell!!! I’ve lived half my life, and this is the first damn time I’ve seen someone play a song and break straight from Ninth Rank to Demi-God! You’ve got to see this!”