Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 270 - 6: Dialogue Among Witches

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Chapter 270: Chapter 6: Dialogue Among Witches

The twelve witches were Nightmare’s Shasta, Bloody Margaret, Mind Reading Edith, Blocking Gwen, Void Monica, Demon Beast Lusa, Healing Lusa, Flame Mabel, Swift Brenna, Dark Lucia, Battle Zelda, and Unyielding Saya.

Each one of them had unique skills and special moves!

Their combat power was impressive!

Margaret was an unexpected surprise!

Currently, they had passed their interviews and were in their probation period. Roman wanted to observe them a bit more.

Roman felt these witches were slick old pros.

He remembered the captured mercenaries.

The mercenaries from the Swampy Mire had far greater fighting prowess than the average conscripted army, and their equipment was top-notch.

Gael had spent a lot of money hiring three thousand mercenaries.

But Roman had captured only half.

After clearing the battlefield, they found that about four hundred mercenaries had died, which meant that a full thousand mercenaries had slipped away and fled against the wind.

It was typical of seasoned soldiers.

Their combat prowess was formidable, and their battlefield survival skills were even stronger.

Of course, only some witches gave him that impression.

The older ones, who had been through a lot and lived long, viewed everything with detachment and were a bit lax.

Among these witches, there were those in their forties and fifties, others in their twenties and thirties, and the youngest was only seventeen.

Perhaps as a result of their strength, the witches didn’t look old; their ragged clothes resembled court attire, and he guessed they might have seen better days in the past.

After completing a basic skills assessment, Roman arranged accommodation for them and sent them off to tidy up.

They were to wash their bodies and change into new clothes.

...

He didn’t build a large bathhouse.

There wasn’t enough manpower or energy for that, not to mention the hassle of heating water.

But there was a bathing room in Origin Manor, always stocked with charcoal and iron pots.

The maids had heated the water in advance and brought several large bathtubs and stools.

But when ten or so people rushed in, it still felt cramped.

"Oh my, there’s soap!" Monica quickly snatched two bars.

"Soap’s not in short supply," replied the maid, rather stiffly.

"Here, Edith, I got this specially for you," Monica handed a bar to Edith who rolled her eyes, "Oh, thanks a lot!"

"You’re welcome!" she responded.

The maids left towels and bath towels in wooden basins and then withdrew, really not wanting to mingle with these unfamiliar witches.

"That guy’s quite generous."

"I say, show him some respect, he doesn’t look easy to fool."

"Edith, what do you think?"

Edith scooped a ladle of hot water, poured it over her head, letting it flow over her body, and immediately let out a comfortable moan.

"Ah, in such a short time, I only know he thinks we are fools, what do you expect me to think?"

"Every day we get to comfortably bathe in hot water, call me a fool all you like, at least it spares me from troubles," Monica interjected.

"That’s all the ambition you’ve got."

"Ah right, our sister Gwen has grand ambitions, why don’t you go ahead and skip the hot baths?"

"I won’t bathe then. Come on, Little Lusa, help me wash my hair."

"Always bossing Lusa around! Aren’t you afraid that our Little Lusa might strangle you in your sleep, you bastard! I can’t stand to watch! Lusa, don’t listen to her, come scrub my back. I’m going to take a soak."

"Edith! You bitch! You jumped into the bath before even scrubbing off the mud! You’re such a bastard! The water’s all dirty! How is anyone supposed to bathe now!"

"Stop squeezing, stop squeezing. There are plenty of tubs, just pick another!"

"Ah~~ comfy!"

Suddenly someone said, "What if he changes his mind?"

"Yeah, what if he can’t handle the pressure, and we only have this verbal agreement, with no real binding force."

"We finally find a place to settle down, and just like that, he could kick us out."

"Shasta, come up with something quick."

As Shasta washed Margaret’s hair, her eyelid twitched, "Just don’t provoke him, that’s all."

"How do you define not provoking him then?"

"Stop pretending! I’m warning you, this isn’t the Witch Forest, and there’s no Prophet to indulge you here. If you get kicked out, that’s it, but if anyone breaks the rules and makes a mistake, don’t expect the other sisters to save her."

"How do we even know he’s that good, helping witches for no reason, just for our powers? That’s so strange. Never mind whether I believe it or not, ask the sisters if they believe it." Gwen said with a cold laugh.

"I think big sister Gwen has a point, he must be after something," the other witches chimed in.

Shasta was too lazy to talk with these paranoid sisters.

Seeing Margaret stand up, she too lay there, letting Margaret’s fingers comb through her hair.

Bathing felt so clean.

For a weather-beaten wanderer, that cleanliness was even more pronounced.

She felt a long-missed peace of mind.

If one had to describe it, only the word ’wonderful’ could do it justice.

No need to worry about the future, no need to fear the past, no need to refrain from lighting a fire in the middle of the night.

Instead, one could boldly strip naked and let warm water nourish the body and hair, without every muscle being tensed up.

She told herself she could relax.

In this era, bath time meant leisure and comfort, a feeling she hadn’t experienced since the collapse of Witch Forest.

The only downside was the buzz of flies still in her ears.

"Shasta! Shasta! Say something!"

"Hey, do you think he’s scheming for Shasta?"

"Possibly!"

"Very likely!"

"When did Shasta find a lover?"

The teasing grew, and even the usually silent younger sisters, who usually couldn’t keep up in conversations, looked over.

She had to clear her name, "That’s not true!"

"See! I told you, she even refuted it."

"Conclusive evidence!"

"There is an affair!"

"What affair! It’s clearly love! Even Lord Thunder would close his eyes to this."

"Why don’t we clean Shasta up and send her over?"

She opened her eyes, saw many hands reaching towards her, and shouted angrily, "Can you guys behave! If you don’t trust him, do you not trust me either!"

Being generally cool in temper, she really couldn’t stand these idiots anymore and ended up cursing, "Edith is quietly soaking in her bath! If anything were wrong, she’d be the first to run! It’s not your place to worry!"

Edith, submerged in warm water up to her neck and leaning against the rim of the tub, lazily said without moving, "Monica’s right, being considered a fool isn’t all that bad, it means you don’t have to worry about anything."

After a commotion, the bathhouse fell silent again.

"Listen, Shasta, I’m serious, why don’t you give it a try? You have to give something in return, those guys treat witches like dirt. We aren’t like the Prophet and Lord Thunder, we haven’t been through the Black Iron Age, and we don’t know what it feels like to be respected as witches, but we sacrificed so many people just to create such an environment, and now we’ve failed, this lifetime is hopeless... Meeting a noble who treats witches as humans is not easy..."

The elder witch spoke in a soft voice, her voice trembling in the air, getting fainter and fainter until it was gone, and all around, quiet as death.