The rules of the organizations would also be as simple as possible, there would only be two rules: Do not take advantage of your ability to violate the law of the territory. And, It is forbidden to use your ability to evade the law.
At the beginning Roland wanted to use the three laws of robotics, restricting the ability of the witches by not allowing them to injure or attack ordinary people and so on, but then he thought that it would actually be unnecessary. Their ability was just the same as guns. When confronted with hazards, there was really no difference between using a gun or a witch’s ability to defend themselves. And by deliberately stressing the difference between witches and ordinary people, the gap between these two groups would only grow further apart.
So it wouldn’t become illegal, he couldn’t avoid his responsibility as a scientist and engineering dog, he had to express himself in the most concise way.
As for the name of this organization, Roland had already long ago found a good one.
The name of the new collective will be “Witch Union.”
After nightfall, the Elk Manson was brightly lit, while holding his invitation, Petrov was welcomed into the hall. The banquet to celebrate the birthday of the 3rd young lady of the Elk family, Aurelia had just begun.
Only people with a prestigious or aristocratic background in Longsong Stronghold were allowed to attend the banquet. As for the Count himself, the birthday banquet was also very important. A woolen carpet was spread throughout the whole hall and all the chamberlains wore a custom-made uniform so that they would easily be recognized. After all, it was Aurelia’s sixteens birthday, which means that she reached the marriageable age.
String music sounded throughout the hall, and attendants were walking in the crowd and handing out glasses of wine. The steaming food was placed on circular tables which were spread within the hall. Aurelia, the protagonist of the birthday banquet was wearing a canary dress and stood in a corner of the hall surrounded by a group of friends, seeming to be having a very lively chat with them.
This was a new popular trend to celebrate, directly coming from the King’s city. Previously the banquets were held like this: Usually, there was a long wooden table placed in the hall and all the guests were sitting at the table, waiting for the chef to serve the meal. Then huge bowls with pork and whole chickens was served with butter and bread. In addition, there was also double-sided fried eggs served together with a large pot of lettuce leaves.
But some years ago the king came up with a new way to celebrate and today this was now a mimic of the new style but only in form.
For example, the glasses given out were all made of different colors, instead of the normally transparent glasses. Within them, the wine was unable to bring out its mellow color. The circular tables are also covered with white tablecloths, rather than the greasy tablecloths they had used. As for the cooked food, the Elk family was still serving the old western style — very greasy and coarse. Seeing this, Petrov shook his head, the cook could at least have cut the meat into several small pieces.
As usual, Petrov had already filled his stomach at home in advance, since he didn’t want to cut the big pieces of meat like a surgeon. He was invited to this birthday party as the representative of his family, so he had to eat at least a mouthful of this oily food, even if it was only to save face. After all, Petrov didn’t want to become a joke for the ladies.
“Long time no seen, man,” Suddenly his neck was hooked by someone from behind,
“I heard you’ve been appointed as the Duke’s messenger? How was the harvest of ore in Border Town. Were you able to steal a lot from them?
Hearing this familiar voice, Petrov immediately knew that it was Rene, the second son of the Elk Family, who was bent on becoming a knight, even though there wasn’t any territory for him to manage, such an idiot. As a friend Rene would count as “not bad,” but Petrov still didn’t want to speak about what he had encountered in Border Town. So he changed the topic, “Shouldn’t you be in the camp at the Cold Wind Mountain Range at this moment? I thought you were sitting in a tavern and trembling.”
“Damn,” Rene pushed Petrov away, “it seems your mouth is unable to speak a single word of praise. This time, I wasn’t even able to enter the New Holy City. The day before the departure for the border guard, I got infected with a cold and had to lie for a whole week in bed.
“Good, you seem to have improved compared to the last time, but skipping the journey saved the guards a lot of inconvenience.”
“This time you’re wrong,” Rene said suddenly, while a mysterious smile spread over his face. “If I hadn’t been lying in bed for a week because of the cold, I’d now be lying on the icy walls of the New Holy City forever.”
