The next day, Roland bid farewell to Lian and Honey in the castle's back garden.
Though reluctant to part ways so abruptly, the news of the Charming Beauty still awaiting at the shoal prompted him to act decisively—this would demonstrate his magnanimity while sparing Tilly any embarrassment. After all, the Witch's dispatch of a key operative to Border Town before the island's massive construction began was a gesture of goodwill. Given this, he could not afford to be overly demanding.
To avoid a long journey through the snow, Anna and Wendy escorted them onto the boat. With the Hopeful, they could reach the shoal in just half an hour.
"Thank you for your care over the past few months," the two bowed before Roland.
"I should be thanking you," Roland said with a smile. "You've made significant contributions to Border Town's development. I have two gifts for you." "Gifts?" Lian's face flushed slightly as she paused.
Honey touched her chest and glanced at Lian, asking excitedly, "Can we have one too?" Roland handed her two bags from Nightingale. "Yeah, we do," she replied. Honey couldn't wait to open them and pulled out a long white cloth ribbon. "Wait, is this a bra?" "Ah, this is a scarf," Roland said, holding up the cotton-woven ribbon and wrapping it around her neck. "This way, the cold wind and snow won't get in. If I wrap it tighter, it'll even cover your ears." "Mmm... so warm," she exclaimed, her face beaming with satisfaction.
I don't know if it's an illusion, but Lian's face turned even redder.
"There's something else inside," Honey fiddled with the scarf for a moment before pulling out a small cube from the bag. "Your Highness, is this a gift too?" "Exactly. Open it and see." "Wow, it's so shiny!" she exclaimed, lifting the iron box. "Look, you can clearly see your reflection!" It was a small mirror embedded in the wooden box, one of the items sold at the convenience store. In Roland's experience, no woman could resist such dazzling objects.
The honeyed appeal drew the attention of other witches, and soon the witches of Sleepy Island gathered in a circle, scrutinizing their reflections in the mirrors. Their admiration and envy were evident—after all, these crystal-glass mirrors, coated with Soraya's substance, outshone silver mirrors in both reflectivity and image clarity. This revelation opened up a new avenue for Roland to gain influence.
After the gift was handed over, the hot air balloon was fully inflated. The two of them climbed into the basket and waved goodbye to Roland and the witches. It was clear they were reluctant to leave the town.
"Let's be honest, this is truly a remarkable place," Tilly murmured as she moved closer. "The reliable water supply and cozy rooms make it hard to believe you've transformed this impoverished land into its current splendor in just a year." "Do you regret it?" "You mean sending the Witches to this town?" she chuckled. "How could I? If I could improve their lives, how could I ever regret it? Remember, I'm a Witch too." In the snow-white garden, Tilly's smile glowed like pristine snowflakes—beautiful without a trace of color. If any sister were to come of age, she'd undoubtedly become the center of attention. Yet Roland knew deep down that their bond transcended sisterhood; they were more like collaborators, natural allies. Her decision yesterday made it clear: to counter potential threats, she'd even risk her life.
"Are you really going to such a dangerous place?" Roland asked. "Though you're a Super Witch, your abilities aren't suited for combat, are they?" "Don't worry, I'm not completely defenseless," Tilly replied, extending her hands to show Prince her jewelry. Her left ring finger wore a blue crystal ring, while her right hand held a white silk glove with a red gemstone embedded on its back. Honestly, the mismatched look was bizarre—this asymmetrical outfit was straight out of a later fashion show's mixed style. He'd been curious about it all day, but had kept quiet out of politeness.
"This is a magic stone, a peculiar artifact unearthed from ancient ruins," she explained. "When infused with Magic Power, it grants various abilities. Take this ring, for instance—it allows me to glide through the air like lightning." As she spoke, she seemed to validate her words, her feet lifting off the ground as her body floated weightlessly. The sight startled Roland.
Can a stone really change one's ability?
He soon realized the significance of this.
If the ability could be mass-produced, Witch's efficiency would skyrocket. Take Lotus as an example: if every Witch Alliance possessed a magic stone that mimics Lotus's power, they could build a temporary residential area in just one day.
After landing, Tilly pointed her right hand at an open space. A bright flash of lightning shot from her fingertips, shattering the ankle-deep snow into a bowl-sized hole that revealed the dark earth below.
"So you can have both abilities at the same time?" Roland asked in surprise.
"No," Tilly shook her head. "The magic stones only allow one ability to manifest within a defined range. If I channel Magic Power into both stones simultaneously, nothing will happen." She smiled. "I didn't plan to reveal this so soon, but after last night's meeting, I realized I might have misunderstood you... I'm truly grateful you opened up about the ancient ruins... though I feel a twinge of regret." "No problem, I understand." "By the way, I was wondering about that bra Mandy mentioned earlier." Roland nearly choked on his saliva. "Ahem, I'm not entirely sure... Perhaps you should ask Sylvie or Evelyn." "Alright," Tilly shrugged. "Looks like you still have reservations about me." Prince found himself in a rather awkward position, torn between laughter and tears.
"Let's not dwell on this," she said with a wink. "I've been pondering something all night: If these ruins truly belong to the Church, why abandon the magic stones entirely? From Ash's experience, the Church likely keeps witches too—these artifacts must serve them equally. Even if they fled after battling the Devil and deliberately buried the war's aftermath, it doesn't stop them from using these stones—this makes no sense." "Does the Church not care about this loss?" Roland mused, though he quickly dismissed the thought. "No, they can't mass-produce these magic stones. Otherwise, they'd have used them chasing fugitive allies in the wild. After all, if they could fly, most would have escaped the Church-Witches' pursuit." "Indeed," he continued, "I reviewed all the books in the royal library about the Church and God Ming. Something strange emerges... Their historical records don't just stop at four hundred years ago. Even God Ming's origins remain vague—no illustrious titles, no epic legends. Beyond claiming omnipotence and omniscience, there's no detailed account. Compared to the ancient Three Gods, it seems far more ethereal. Combining the two creates a peculiar sensation." "What?" Roland's heart skipped a beat.
"The Church was like it had just sprung up out of nowhere."