The Cornflower Witch

August. Life at Tetis College was as calm as ever, but Sylutia had heard some troubling news from the outside world.

“Food prices are skyrocketing right now.” A few classmates were talking while eating together.

“My family lives in the Furland District, which is relatively well-off, but they still can’t get enough food. A lot of people are panicking and grabbing whatever they can,” one student sighed.

“My dad said he’s stockpiled two hundred Jin of grain. That’s enough for five people in the house to eat for a while, but since food is so hard to come by in Furland now, he told me to figure out a plan.”

“According to the Alliance’s data, this year’s grain yield is only sixty percent of a normal year. Although many places still have reserves, scholars’ observations and calculations show that production will be unlikely to recover to last year’s level in the next two years. At best it can hold at eighty percent of last year — that’s the limit.”

“That’s not even the worst of it. This year is the eighth year of the wind season, which means in four years the most brutal Sinking Fog season will arrive.”

“I haven’t experienced a Sinking Fog season, but the elders say it’s a very oppressive time. About three hundred days a year are overcast or foggy, with insufficient sunlight. Yields will drop sharply.”

“To prepare for the Sinking Fog, people usually stockpile food years in advance, but this year’s storms completely disrupted those plans.”

“Actually, current reserves are still enough, but because everyone feels they must prepare early, they’re hoarding. Some places have already started seeing people starve to death.”

“Ah, how can this be?” a girl asked in disbelief.

“Even if yields drop, reserves should sustain people for several years, right?”

“You don’t understand. Let me put it this way.” An apprentice raised a finger.

“Suppose there are 100 people, and each needs one unit of food to survive. If production in one cycle is 120 units, wouldn’t everyone survive?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“But that’s under normal assumptions. If you learn that production for the next few years will be 60 units instead of 120, what would you do? You’d buy early and hoard food, right?”

“Okay, here’s the problem. Thirty of those people are rich and noble. To secure their future they each hoard three units, that’s 90 units. Now there are only 30 units left for the remaining 70 people. When they fight over this limited supply, prices skyrocket and widespread famine appears.”

“In reality, it’s even worse. If 100 people face a shortage of 90 units, panic and frantic grabbing will occur, causing deaths far exceeding ten percent.

“In practical terms, a food shortfall of only ten percent can easily cause over thirty percent of people to starve to death.”

Hearing this, most of the students present understood.

“So what do we do now?”

“No one knows. The authorities are conservative about relief — they’ll distribute limited food to those about to die, but they won’t recklessly use reserves for massive relief.”

“That’s understandable. With the Sinking Fog coming, the future could be worse. You must keep some food for the future.”

They finished their meal and dispersed. Sylutia, who had listened from nearby, looked thoughtful.

It seemed the Mage Alliance’s situation remained grim.

If everything stayed peaceful, most in the Alliance would prefer to maintain their current stable lives. But if famine spread and society destabilized, radical factions and voices could slowly gain the upper hand, and then things would become unpredictable.

Eight days earlier, while Sylutia was reading Meleranke’s life story outside her home, a knock came at the door.

She closed the book and walked up the stairs. Before opening the door she saw the unfamiliar senior, Mishil.

“It’s you again, Dafenqi.” When he said it, the man smiled.

“Last time he came, there were no tasks for him either.” I walked into the living room and poured myself a cup of tea.

“There’s an open position in the Mishil District in the eastern Alliance. They need someone there, and it suits him, so the academy put his name forward.”

“Is this like an internship or on-the-job practice from the academy?” Sylutia wasn’t naive. After experiencing a few such assignments, she noticed the academy seemed intent on cultivating her; the tasks they assigned were key and unusual.

“Of course. Every apprentice of third year and above participates in real-world affairs for training and practice. Don’t you think this is a fast way to grow?”

“Otherwise, with normal promotions you’d have to slog for four or five years every time — that wastes too much time and life.”

“I understand.” Sylutia didn’t object, but she was curious what direction the academy wanted to groom her toward. Each assignment came from a slightly different field.

“Since you get it, I’ll explain the specifics.” He lifted his teacup and smiled.

“First, you’ve heard of the Tower Guardian mages, or resident tower mages, right?”

“Towers have many meanings in the Mage Alliance, just as castles do for kingdoms. They are the Alliance’s foundation and core.”

“Generally, every city has a central mage tower. It performs many functions: monitoring local safety, preventing Shadow World incursions, protecting ordinary people from powerful creatures, and dealing with dangerous criminals and enemies.”

“Second, it’s the area’s main communication hub. Using the equipment inside the mage tower, it transmits official Alliance orders, communicates with the Shadow World, reports local situations, and compiles statistics.”

“Lastly, it often serves as the guild hall for the local Mage Guild, gathering local mages and ensuring the region remains under Alliance control, preventing easy rebellions and keeping local officials and nobles loyal and respectful.”

“Moreover, during war the mage tower positioned on high ground can provide powerful fire support and superior reconnaissance. It can deploy city-wide protective barriers by activating the tower’s magic arrays and the ‘fire seed.’”

“After hearing this, you should understand how critical a mage tower is to the Alliance.”

“Each city’s central tower is manned by powerful mages who often serve as the head of the local Mage Guild. They are the city’s most powerful mage leaders — we call such figures Tower Guardians.”

“To better manage the local Mage Guild and handle circumstances, the Tower Guardian surrounds themselves with a series of assistant positions. These people are the guardian’s deputies and often act on behalf of the guardian in various affairs.”

“The place you’re going to, the Mishil District, is where you’ll serve as deputy to the local Tower Guardian, Master Sagna. He’s a master of the Carving and Casting School, very senior, and holds high prestige locally.”

“He doesn’t sound easy to get along with,” Sylutia muttered.

“Ha ha, indeed. Master Sagna is notorious for his temper and strictness. Several of his previous deputies couldn’t bear the pressure and resigned,” Dafenchi said, blowing on his teacup.

“But I believe you can do well and win the old man’s favor.”

“Though a bit old-fashioned, he’s a genuine person. He’s skilled in carving techniques and blends them into the forging of large machinery. Because of him, the Mishil District’s steam vehicle industry developed distinct characteristics — from mediocre thirty years ago to the Alliance’s fourth-ranked production region now.”

“You’ll see many fresh and interesting things there. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

“You won’t go alone this time. Going by yourself into an unfamiliar place would make work difficult.”

“You can draw twenty experienced members from the Inspection Department to accompany you. The academy will also arrange twenty members to travel with you. They mostly come from the Mithril Clock’s outer organizations and are trustworthy.”

“Good luck, Hedra. If you do well here, when Master Sagna retires the Tower Guardian post in Mishil District could be yours.”

“Huh?” The girl tilted her head, surprised.

“Me? But I’m only Fourth Tier right now.”

“You don’t really think you’re ordinary, Hedra.” Dafenchi smiled.

“Not only did Mr. Harlson specifically write to praise you, recently Master Ge Zhen, Master Welsa, Master Hiden, and Master Ein all gave you very high evaluations. Many in the Alliance’s upper ranks know your name now, though there hasn’t been the right chance for you to meet those big figures.” In truth the Dean didn’t want Sylutia to step into that circle too early.

“When you return from this assignment, you’ll probably meet them.”

Meeting big-name masters felt like it would bring many complications, Sylutia thought, and she shook her head slightly, not particularly excited.

Still, the Mishil District was worth seeing. She wanted to understand the Alliance’s industrial system. The places she’d spent much time in before — the Asra District and the current Tetis District — were research-focused and had low industrial proportions.

“I’ll prepare. I’ll get ready.” Sylutia nodded.

“When do we depart? Is there a deadline?” She thought for a moment and asked Dafenchi.

“Depart sometime this week will be fine.”

Over the next few days Sylutia prepared thoroughly. She tidied the Black Rose Palace, locked the door properly, then went to the Inspection Department to select twenty team members she knew to be transferred with her to the Mishil District.

According to Dafenchi, she would need to stay in the Mishil District for over a year to become familiar with the environment and work. If she handled the duties well and gained recognition, Master Sagna might hand over the Tower Guardian position to her next year or the year after.

The master was already over one hundred and twenty years old. According to the Carving and Casting School’s information, after leaving Mishil District he would return to the school’s affiliated institute to teach promising juniors, imparting his lifetime of experience and then enjoying a leisurely retirement.

However, Mishil District was where he had invested decades of energy and effort. He did not want to give the position to a mage he didn’t respect. He kept petitioning the Alliance Council for more talented young candidates to serve as his deputy, as an assessment to see who could succeed him.

Before Sylutia, five candidates had been tried — all Fifth Tier prodigies — but he remained unsatisfied, so they left after at most three months.

After reading the dossier, Sylutia didn’t feel overly confident about the task, nor did she feel a compulsion to complete it at all costs.

There’s a generational gap even between people born five years apart — let alone the gap between someone nearly a century older and a young person. From his resume, his personality seemed domineering and unwilling to accept any deviation from his will; no wonder previous deputies fled quickly.

The academy’s professors held very high expectations of her. Maybe it was because her previous performances were too outstanding.

The upside was she could reach high positions and help mediate between the two major forces in the future. The downside was higher expectations meant harder responsibilities, and life would be far from easy.

Lost in such thoughts, she heard Cerise’s familiar voice.

“Lady Hedra.”

“Hm?” Sylutia looked up and found Cerise standing before her with the assembled team.

Including Cerise, twenty elite members of the Inspection Department stood ready — allies she had worked with on several occasions. She remembered each of their names and rough backgrounds.

“This time I’ll trouble you all to accompany me.” Sylutia explained the trip’s destination.

“However, compared to our usual tense work, this trip to Mishil District should be much more relaxed.”

“Yes, Lady Hedra!” The group stood at attention, their morale high.

“You can relax and soften a bit.” Sylutia propped her chin and explained.

“We’re not here to launch a major investigation or arrest criminals. If you behave like that you’ll put pressure on the hosts and make them think we’re coming to forcibly interfere.”

“Understood, Lady Hedra.” One member raised his hand and replied.

“You mean we should avoid wearing Inspection Department uniforms and instead don more ordinary outfits for mobility, lowering their guard and allowing us to blend into the local environment to gather information more easily.”

Information gathering might be needed, but it didn’t require such a show of force. Seeing Sylutia raise no objection, the team immediately understood.

As expected of the Inspection Department’s bright new star — her thinking was far-sighted and considerate.

They disbanded briefly and reconvened about ten minutes later in more common clothing. Some looked like caravan guards, wearing blue-and-white chainmail shirts. Some wore gold-rimmed glasses and held books and documents like guild elites. Others carried potions and surgical tools, resembling accompanying physicians.

Working in the Inspection Department required disguise and infiltration skills. They handled such changes easily. Before long, the group had become advisors and guards gathered around a certain merchant heiress.

The new appearance was much less aggressive and low-key, fitting Sylutia’s intention. But she still felt something off, though she couldn’t say what.

Wait — with her current identity she indeed posed as a merchant heiress, except the Griffin family was too small and the nominal uncle Alanfude’s caravans were based far away by Meteorite Lake.

Looking at it this way, she realized she had left Meteorite Lake several years ago.

If there’s a chance, I should go back this year or next to see how the Hidden Grove Alliance is doing. If too many years pass, I might not be able to return — and that wouldn’t be good.

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