If I let you farm, will you become the emperor of the empire?

They took a bath and changed their clothes. They were very simple linen clothes.

But the fabric was of the best quality.

Linen cloth was also divided into grades. Peasants wore coarse linen, which was better than hemp ropes and sacks.

And the fine linen was of excellent texture, soft and wear-resistant, with strong heat dissipation, and looked white and clean.

Nobles and rich people also often wore linen clothes.

Because the clothes were not custom-made, they looked a little loose on them. They tied belts around their waists, tied their wet loose hair with hair ropes, and walked in cloth shoes, finally looking a little human.

It took them half a day to take a bath, and now it was afternoon.

"Hey, where are we going to eat?" Edith grabbed a maid who came to wash when she walked out of the bathing room.

The maid said, "Madam, you can go to the hall. The food is ready."

Master Roman had just listed them as attendants.

Although they were interns, they were also attendants.

They walked over with a swagger and soon smelled the fragrance.

Most of the witches silently quickened their pace, and walked faster and faster, and finally entered side by side. If the door was not wide enough, they would probably get stuck there.

As soon as they entered, they saw a dazzling array of dishes.

Roast duck, chicken soup, stewed goose, roast peacock,

Honey roasted lamb legs, grilled pork chops,

Garlic boiled eel, river eel with hot sauce,

Vegetable salad and fruit salad, honey nut strawberry jam,

Bone marrow pie white bread, brioche pizza.

Dozens of dishes were lined up, filling the entire long table.

It was almost dusk and it was not time for dinner, but Roman arranged a chef.

He was going to go to the swamp to take a look, but now he was delayed because of the witches' business.

"Everyone! Go!"

I don't know who shouted.

Bang!

The sound of slapping the table was very eye-catching, and the witches stopped moving.

Roman sat in the main seat, his eyebrows almost stood up.

"I think you should know more about the rules!"

He didn't have any rules here, but that didn't stop him from setting rules for others.

A witch said, "Master, we are just starving... Well, you have the final say, what rules do you want us to have."

"All this is my property. Since you have joined, you also belong to me, but you didn't even call me master before eating."

"Oh, then our master, can we start?" Monica said with the greasy roast duck.

Roman fell silent.

The rules were set.

But it seemed useless.

He nodded helplessly.

Shasta breathed a sigh of relief.

They ate in a tragic way, wolfing down their food.

Her movements were more elegant, but they were very fast and precise, not slower than others.

"Ms. Shasta?"

A small, gentle question came from behind her.

Shasta looked back, and although she was very different from before, she still recognized who that person was at a glance.

"Gweil."

"It's really you!" Gweil was very excited.

"Yes, we meet again."

She found that time really changes many concepts. She believed that she would have a great life at that time. But now she found that she is the best here.

Some things are clueless at the moment, but time will prove everything.

At some point, all the witches stopped eating. Margaret also looked up, with a flash of surprise in her eyes.

Shasta pursed her lips and said: "Gweil, the doom witch Gweil, our little sister."

Gweil looked at these strange women and was a little scared by their sight. Quickly walk to Roman.

"Roman, who are they, are they witches too?"

"I guess so." Roman reached out and touched Gweil's head. "Are you scared?"

"No." Gweil whispered.

But it is certain that I was scared.

The witches were also scared.

Monica said in a complicated tone: "Shasta, I think you should give an explanation, but you don't tell me anything."

Shasta felt there was nothing to say.

It was enough for Gweil to live a good life. The Witch Forest was just an organization and could not represent all witches.

The next moment, a flurry of inquiries came over-"Your name is Gweil, how old are you this year?" "Do you have a gifted spell, what is the spell?" "Before finding Valya, the prophet also found a high-level witch seedling, is it you?" "The only failed mission of Shasta was related to you?"...

Soon, Sana also came back, staring blankly at the scene in front of her.

She felt someone approaching her, and just as she was about to dodge, she was picked up.

"Sister, look, I found another little witch!"

Sanna didn't like this.

The women had greasy hands, and some even had vegetable leaves and shredded meat in their teeth, and spoke vaguely without swallowing the food in their mouths.

They smiled and kept pinching and ravaging her and Gweil's faces.

She hated it, but she couldn't resist. She couldn't break free even with her innate magic. It was really weird.

The two little witches were instantly drowned in the witch tide.

It was basically the big witches asking and the little witches talking. Sometimes the two mouths couldn't say anything and were overwhelmed.

The strange aunts and uncles held you back and wouldn't let you go. The youngest Lusa showed quite an adult taste at this moment, with a kind of familiarity.

They had no rules to begin with, and Roman thought they were a bit neurotic.

Now, they have even less rules when they see their own kind, and they completely let themselves go.

The scene was once a mess.

In the Origin Manor, only a few people can eat at the table.

They are all busy, so every meal is very quiet.

Normally speaking, Roman does not eat here most of the time.

But now it is lively. And it is too lively.

Roman has a headache, thinking about whether to build a special restaurant to avoid such chaos every day.

"Tomorrow I will test your ability." Roman said to Shasta, with a noisy background.

"How to test?"

"Military exercise, let me see how capable you are."

"I won't let you down. I can't guarantee anything else, but I am sure of this." Shasta said lightly.

They used to cooperate with those noble merchants, and sometimes they had to help them solve problems.

Of course, at that time, the Witch Forest still had some capital, and the witches were not short of wealth, and they didn't need to be supported by others.

Although it can't be said to be luxurious, at least it can guarantee the material needs of each witch.

Now it's not possible.

The family members are in poverty.

Without the network of connections they once had, they can't buy anything even if they have money.

Let alone supplying a large organization, just supplying the living needs of a dozen people, the materials consumed every day are not affordable for ordinary people.

Food, clothing, housing and daily necessities all rely on the production of human society.

Witches can't conjure those things out of thin air.

It's not easy to find someone to take over.

It's even more impossible to imagine that others support them for free.

It's natural to get paid to do things. It's not a loss to call a few masters.