Er Mu - Release that Witch

Also, Cheng Yan wondered, how was one to assess the level of governance? By the population? Military power? Economic standing? Wimbledon III hadn’t mentioned any standard, nor did he put the slightest restrictions on their methods of competition. In case someone secretly assassinated the other candidates, what would he do? Would the queen stand by and watch her children kill each other? Wait. …… He carefully recalled the next memory, all right, another piece of bad news; the Queen had died five years ago.

Cheng Yan sighed. Obviously, this was a barbaric and dark feudal era he had found himself in. Just the way they seemed to wantonly kill witches was enough to give him a few hints. Also, Cheng Yan thought, why would he want to become king? With no Internet and none of the comforts of modern civilization, he’d have to live the same life as the native people. Burning witches for fun, living in a city where everyone dumped their excrement wherever they wished, and finally dying from the Black Death.

Cheng Yan being a prince could already be considered a very high starting point. Even if he didn’t become king he was still of royal blood and had already been knighted. As long as he managed to stay alive he would be considered as one of the Lords of the Realm.

Cheng Yan suppressed his wandering thoughts and went to his bedroom mirror. The man looking back at him in the mirror had light gray hair, which was the royal family’s most distinctive feature. His face was slightly pale and with his regular facial features, he seemed to be completely without personality traits. He appeared to be lacking in physical exercise and as for wine and woman, he recalled indulging in both with some regularity. He had had several lovers in the King’s City, but all had been willing participants, he hadn’t forced anyone.

As for the cause of his own crossing over… Cheng Yan guessed that thanks to the company’s inhuman urging to progress forward, his boss had arranged for him to work overtime, which in turn actually led to the tragedy that was his sudden death. The victims of cases like these were usually coders, mechanical engineers, and programmers.

In the end, no matter what, at least I got the equivalent of an extra life. I really shouldn’t complain too much, in the coming days, I might be able to slowly improve this life, but my first task is to play a convincing 4th Prince, so that other people don’t find something amiss with my behavior and think I’m possessed by the devil, leading to my being burned at the stake, Cheng Yan thought to himself.

“So, in order to live well…” Cheng Yan took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and whispered, “from now on, I’m Roland.”

For a period of time Roland locked himself in his room as he carefully reviewed the memories of this new world, such that dinner had to be sent directly to him by his servants.

Roland suppressed his fear of the unfamiliar environment he found himself in under his strong will to live. He was very clear that if he wanted to blend in and avoid being suspected by the people around him he needed to get more information as soon as possible.

Roland had to say that the fourth prince had, apart from fooling around with some other sons of the nobility, no additional things in his brain. Over and over again, Roland was unable to remember any valuable information such as knowledge of the aristocracy, the political situation in his own country, or the diplomatic situation with his neighbors. As for basic common sense, such as city names, or the years of significant events, they were completely different than the history of Europe he knew.

It seemed that based on his memories, the old Roland had had absolutely no chance of obtaining the throne. Perhaps the King of Graycastle was aware of this, and because of that, the prince had been thrown into this hellish place, even if he made a mess of things in this border town, it wouldn’t result in much damage to the kingdom.

The next memories Roland looked at were of his brothers and sisters, and what he found left him unsure whether he should laugh or cry.

Roland’s eldest brother, the First Prince, had an above average military power, his second brother was scheming and horridly treacherous, his third sister was afraid of death, and his younger sister was brilliant. This was the entirety of the former fourth prince’s impressions of his siblings. Roland felt a little awkward, after more than a decade of living with them the old Roland’s knowledge had been summed up in a few words. What forces they’d developed, who their competent subordinates were, what they were experts at, what their plans were and so on…he knew nothing at all.

It was only three months ago that the fourth prince had come to this frontier town, but the nobility had already stopped hiding their contempt for him. It was obvious that the fourth prince wasn’t cut out to be a leader. Fortunately, when the King had left Roland this territory, he had sent along two of his more capable subordinates to provide assistance so the townspeople wouldn’t suffer under the old Roland’s inept rule.

After Roland woke up the next morning one of his maids, Tyre, repeatedly mentioned that the Assistant Minister wanted to see him. When it seemed that he could put it off no longer Roland acted according to his past memories and reached out to cup the maid’s ass before sending her to fetch Barov, who had been waiting in the drawing room.

Seeing the flushing Tyre exit the room, Roland suddenly realized that, since he had reincarnated, shouldn’t he have a system or something like that? At least in many tales that was the standard formula, but the arrival of a system never happened.

Sure enough, what Roland had read in those novels was all fiction.

***

In the drawing room, Barov was already restless from waiting. The moment Roland appeared he asked, “Your Highness, why didn’t you order the execution yesterday?”

“One day earlier, one day later, what’s the difference?” Roland said as he clapped his hands, letting the attendants know to bring his breakfast in, “Sit down, Barov.”

The impressions he had from the old Roland’s memories, and also based on his own opinion, was that the Knight Commander liked to confront problems with the fourth prince directly face to face, even in the presence of others, while the Assistant Minister was more circumspect and liked to discuss issues in private. In any case, the loyalty of the two was likely to be to the King.

“A day later may lead to other witches appearing, my royal prince! This isn’t the same as before with your previous escapades, not during this time of chaos!” Barov cautioned.

“How can you even say that?” Roland asked while frowning, “I thought you were capable of distinguishing the differences between superstition and fact.”

Barov looked bewildered, “What superstitions?”

“That a witch is evil and the devil’s messenger,” Roland seemed to not mind as he patiently answered the question. “Isn’t that what the church teaches us? They won’t intervene here, I think it’s actually the opposite. Their propaganda states that witches are evil, and while we’ve chosen not to actively aid their witch hunt, all the people in this territory believe in these shameless superstitions spread by the Church.”

Barov was shocked, “Could…could a witch really be…”

“Indeed evil?” Roland asked, “Like what?”

The Assistant Minister was silent for a moment, trying to decide if the prince was deliberately making fun of him, “Your Highness, this problem can be discussed later. I know you don’t like the church, but this pursuit of conflict is counterproductive.”

Roland curled his lips. It seemed that reversing this superstition about witches wasn’t something that he could do overnight, but for now he decided to put it out of his mind..

When Roland’s breakfast of toast, fried eggs and a carafe of milk arrived he made up two plates, one of which he served to the assistant minister.

“You haven’t eaten until now, right?” asked Roland before he started eating. The maid had told him that Barov had arrived outside his chambers at dawn, and had directly requested to see him, so he shouldn’t have had time to eat. While he’d decided to imitate the former prince’s way of life, he’d also decided to begin to change the way people perceived him a bit at a time.

The Assistant Minister was a good first target for his plan. Roland thought to himself, If you can make your men feel valued, then they’ll be more motivated to work for you.

Taking the initiative had always been the most efficient way to win, hadn’t it?

Barov took the cup of milk Roland handed him but didn’t drink as he anxiously said, “Your Highness, we still have a problem. The guards reported that three days ago a suspected witch camp was found in the western forest. Because they left in a hurry and didn’t clean up all of their traces, a guard found this in the camp.”

He took out a coin from his pocket and put it in front of Roland. This wasn’t the common currency of the kingdom, at least according to the memories of the old Roland, he hadn’t seen such a coin. It wasn’t even like theirs, it wasn’t even made of metal.

Feeling it in his his hands, he was surprised to find that the coin was warm, and the assistant minister definitely wasn’t the source of this sweltering heat of at least forty degrees Celsius, which reminded him of the moment when one took a bath.

“What is this?” Roland asked.

“I thought it was just some foul trinket that a witch made, but it’s actually more serious than that.” Barov had to pause to wipe his forehead, “the printed pattern is known as the Devil’s Eye of the Sacred Mountain, which is the emblem of the Witch Cooperation Association.”