I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

During the continuous purge, Mitia had been constantly cooling down the domestic environment.

But the current situation clearly showed that this was a large-scale reckoning, and quite a few old fellows who were supposed to be enjoying their retirement at home while standing behind their descendants had begun to panic.

Many old comrades were also invited out as reinforcements at this time, picked up by special cars and escorted to the capital. Many hoped to rely on their prestige to make the Empress stop here.

They really did carry gifts and ride straight to the gates of the Empress’s Palace to request an audience. Mitia did not stop them either—if you want to come, I will see you. She was also quite curious about how exactly this group planned to make her change her mind.

From the moment they entered the capital’s jurisdiction, they were received with the highest-level courtesy: traffic police clearing the way, Special Police vehicles providing protection, and sections of roads sealed off one after another to form a direct, exclusive route.

The result after the meeting, however, made quite a few people with ulterior motives utterly dumbfounded.

“Milady, this is fish we caught from the stream in our village. Don’t look at how small they are, they’re fresh. Our family once survived because of them. I brought a few for you to taste.”

‘Your Majesty, these are fruits from our place. Back then, when we were starving, Big Ox was beaten to death alive by the nobles’ lackeys just for stealing some. Later, we won. Now we can pick them freely. You should also taste the fruits of victory.’

‘And me, and me too. This old man brought rice—refined rice with not a single husk left!’

‘Back then, after farming for a whole year, we had to hand over seventy percent as rent. What was left wasn’t enough for a whole family. The children could only search the fields grain by grain for leftover rice, mix it with husks the Manor Lord didn’t want, add water, and eat that for a year.’

‘That stuff scraped your throat when you swallowed it, and it only barely filled your stomach with water. We were hungry every day, too weak to move. Now we don’t have to eat that anymore. Life is really good now.’

“Mine’s the real treasure! Look! Big potatoes! The pointy-eared experts stay in our village every day tinkering with these. Look, they’re as big as a fist! One mu of land can yield so many!”

‘Really? Let this old man take a look.’

‘Let me see too!’

Mitia watched as the group of old men and old women in front of her noisily crowded together one moment to stuff local specialties into her hands, and the next moment huddled together to study the big potatoes. She found it both amusing and helpless.

In the partitioned area of the meeting room, more than a dozen doctors stood ready in strict formation. Among these elders, the youngest were in their early sixties, and the oldest nearly eighty. For humans of this era, they absolutely qualified as long-lived.

If one calculated their ages backward, when Mitia had led the army, most of them had been in their prime, around their thirties to forties. At the very least, only commander-level generals could continue serving in the military at that age.

In other words, if they had not watched little Mitia grow up, they had watched her grow. Most of them treated her as half a daughter.

Back then, when Eliza had managed to raise Mitia alone while still holding the morale of the territorial army together, these officers had undoubtedly contributed greatly.

Earlier, Anna had arranged medical teams out of fear that they might get angry and trigger some illness, causing an accident. Looking at it now, that arrangement seemed to have been in vain.

Instead, they had to worry whether these old men and women would insist on stuffing everything they had brought into the Empress’s mouth at the later banquet.

Anna was also somewhat puzzled.

They did not seem to have any intention of coming before the Empress to plead on behalf of their juniors or former comrades-in-arms as she had expected. Rather, it was as if they were using this opportunity to chat with the Empress at close range about everyday matters.

Some of them did indeed think that way, but…

They had not even had time to sit down properly. The moment they opened their mouths to mutter a couple of sentences, they were dragged off the bus by these former classmates and comrades-in-arms. Naturally, those left behind were all here on what amounted to a group tour.

No one stopped them?

Who would dare stop them?

They would just glance back at you, not even asking your name, and directly ask which unit you came from.

Once you answered, they could trace your unit’s entire history for you—when it was established, the meaning of its designation, who its former top commanders were, one of whom might well have been him or her.

The ones doing the hitting and the ones being hit were all former superiors and commanding officers. What was there to stop? Better not loiter in front of them—if they turned around and smacked you with a cane, that would be a free hit.

The Internal Affairs Department forces under Anna’s control only provided peripheral and en-route protection. They conducted no eavesdropping or investigation at all. This was the most basic form of respect—for them, and for themselves.

If even they, as representatives of official institutions, did not respect these veterans, then by example the entire Alliance’s consciousness would collapse.

This could also be considered an overt scheme aimed at Mitia. As long as she wanted to maintain the functioning of the rules, she would forever need to seriously consider and respond to the requests of these highly qualified meritorious contributors and martyrs’ families.

However, they had miscalculated one thing—those who had forgotten their original aspirations could never outnumber those who had not.

At the banquet that evening, what Anna and the others had worried about did indeed happen. Apart from listening to them recount their past glorious achievements, Mitia spent most of her time eating.

The atmosphere at the banquet remained lively throughout. Mitia did not put on any Empress’s airs; whoever served her food, she ate it.

She had to taste the fish. She had to eat at least one bowl of rice. She ate the potatoes as well—the flavor was indeed much better. It seemed that the Elves really were gifted in this regard.

As for the various vegetables and meats brought by others, Mitia ate a bit of each. Many of them had once been local specialties, so-called special supplies. Now, they had all been designated as public property, allowing ordinary civilians to taste them as well.

Only when it was clearly getting late did the gathering finally disperse.

After the meal, even though Mitia could rapidly convert food into energy, she still felt somewhat overfull.

As she bade farewell to each old veteran, Anna followed behind her, occasionally gently patting her back.

Before parting, an old lady held her hand tightly: ‘We don’t really understand much else, but our eyes aren’t failing. We can clearly see what life was like before and what it’s like now. Don’t worry about those old things—we’ll handle them for you!’

Mitia could feel the rough texture of the hands tightly gripping hers.

Like a wad of paper that had been soaked by rain and beaten out of shape—wrinkled and seemingly fragile, yet extraordinarily tough. Her own hand was firmly wrapped in the center, protected, delicate, and smooth, never having suffered any such ravages.

‘Your Majesty, do whatever you want to do. We old bastards who once swore under your banner aren’t dead yet. Until the moment I close my eyes, my country will remain great! I will absolutely not allow those maggots to crawl back up!’

“Exactly! Some people forget their roots, forget where they came from—but we haven’t. Who would have thought that at this age, these old bones of ours could still put out a bit of heat? That’s just wonderful.”

Looking at the group of old men and women standing up for her, Mitia’s smile was exceptionally bright.

This country had not been forged by her alone. It was the crystallization of countless people’s joint struggle, and it naturally deserved to be protected together.

She had a premonition that some people were about to be very unlucky.

Night would eventually pass.

Starting from noon the next day, the actions of the Black and White Twin Evils, which had previously slowed down, became frequent once more. Unlike before, mixed among the Inspectorate Special Services and Internal Affairs convoys were one or two stern-faced elders wearing old-style military uniforms.

Buses and armored vehicles arrived at the military dependents’ residential area. After presenting specially approved documents and procedures to the guards at the entrance, they drove straight in without obstruction.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, the elder holding files in his hands was carefully helped down by the surrounding soldiers. He straightened the military cap on his head and bellowed downstairs with full vigor: “I *** your ***, you little punk Tuck! Get your ass down here!”

Heads popped out from balconies on many floors, or eyes peered out in curiosity.

If their guess was correct, this Tuck was the retired old supreme commander in their compound, holding the rank of General. His son was still serving in an important post in the capital’s military department. Who had such nerve?

From one balcony, a young man stuck his head out and shouted curses downstairs: “Damn! Which bastard dares to call my grandpa by his name? Are you f***ing tired of living?”

‘Your grandpa? I was your grandpa’s grandpa! You little bastard, hurry up and call him down here—don’t force me to go up there and slap his big mouth myself.’