Looking at the building and its signboard ahead, I couldn’t help but feel the same excitement as when I launched my first startup back on Earth.

"Starting a new business is always fun. Thrilling. Fresh!"

And this time, it was a business in a fantasy world where magic exists.

If this were a virtual reality game, it might well have been the ultimate life game.

"For the first business, that idea should be good, right? It doesn’t require much knowledge of magi-tech, so there’d be fewer security risks. The production difficulty is decently high, so it won’t be easy to copy. The only issue is that it requires a lot of skilled hands…"

As I stood there, staring at the headquarters of Arad Company and mulling over ideas for the first product, a voice called out from behind.

“Sir Arad.”

“Lady Isabelle.”

It was the familiar voice of Isabelle, the Spring Witch.

“What brings you here?”

“I was passing by and decided to stop in.”

“I see.”

The Spring Witch, Isabelle, looked no different from usual. Despite being called a witch, she appeared like an ordinary, elderly Northern woman.

“Is the Arad Merchant Guild finally opening?”

“Yes.”

“When’s the opening ceremony?”

“Likely next week. We’ll start operations the same day as the ceremony.”

Isabelle, who looked older than she really was, had reportedly been around since the Northern Grand Duchy was first established. Her extended life span was partly thanks to her rank as a Grand Witch—a title for someone classified as a superhuman. Additionally, witches had traces of elf blood in their lineage, albeit diluted.

“Will you be unveiling a new product during the ceremony? Something to rival Arad Salt?”

“Yes. You can look forward to it.”

“I will.”

“Hahaha.”

After chatting with the Spring Witch, I hesitated before cautiously asking, “By the way, how has Her Grace the Grand Duchess been doing lately?”

Ever since the investiture ceremony, the Grand Duchess had seemed to avoid me, and it bothered me. Lately, she hadn’t even included me in meetings.

“Is she unwell?”

“She’s feeling a bit under the weather.”

Isabelle’s sharp gaze swept over me as she replied.

“Under the weather?! Where exactly?”

Her response and expression made my heart sink for a moment.

“Could it be a delayed side effect from the elixir?!”

The first thing that came to mind was the hastily concocted elixir I made in the Abyss. It had miraculously healed her injuries and restored her inner energy, but even now, the thought of that primitive and incomplete elixir made me uneasy. Who knew when and how side effects might emerge?

“I’m kidding. She’s fine. She’s just busy and hasn’t had time. Between her duties as a ruler and replenishing her depleted inner energy, she’s been occupied.”

“I see…”

Even though Isabelle dismissed it as a joke, I couldn’t fully believe her.

Something was definitely up.

‘Her reactions when I was around younger witches, her seating arrangement during meetings, and even her behavior at the investiture ceremony… Could it be? Is she embarrassed?’

I felt like I could guess the reason.

‘This is exactly how relationships between men and women fizzle out awkwardly after some shallow flirting.’

I clicked my tongue internally. There wasn’t much I could do about it, nor did I want to.

In fact, this might be for the best. If things stayed like this, I wouldn’t need to roam around the North unnecessarily and could keep a comfortable distance from Arina.

“Oh, by the way, have the results of that research come out, Sir Arad?”

Oblivious to my thoughts—and perhaps not, because if she knew, she might burn me for toying with her liege’s emotions—Isabelle suddenly brought up another topic with a knowing smile.

“Ah, you mean the research related to intelligence?”

“Yes, that one.”

Realizing what she was asking about, I swallowed dryly.

‘So, the moment has finally come.’

I had already figured out the cause of the declining intelligence, but I had been putting off explaining it because it was an awkward subject. However, I couldn’t delay forever.

“Why don’t we step inside?” I steadied myself and led Isabelle into the Arad Company building.

The interior was sparse—there were no employees or infrastructure yet—but the basement already housed my personal magi-tech workshop.

“This is quite the sight.”

The basement, which should have been dark, was illuminated without a single torch or candle. Low-grade luminous mana stones engraved with magical circuits were embedded in the ceiling and walls, serving as lighting.

“Wow… It’s always amazing to see these.”

Isabelle’s eyes sparkled as she examined the mana stones intently.

‘Yet again, she doesn’t ask about the principles or secrets behind magi-tech.’

Watching her, I tilted my head in curiosity. Since coming to High Castle, I’d had many conversations with witches, but none of them ever asked about the mechanisms or techniques behind the items I created. They only showed interest in the finished products. It was as if asking about such things was considered highly taboo or rude.

‘Why is that?’

I glanced at Isabelle, who was observing the various magi-tech tools in the basement with bright, curious eyes.

‘Witches never delved into my past, and I didn’t feel comfortable prying into theirs either.’

However, I decided that this would be a good chance to ask about the witches.

‘After all, things are bound to get awkward between me and the witches once the issue with intelligence comes to light.’

It seemed better to gather information now rather than later.

“By the way, Lady Isabelle.”

“Yes? What is it, Sir Arad? Or should I call you Count Jin?”

“Sir Arad is fine. I’m not an official knight, after all.”

“It’s been a long time since only knights were addressed with ‘Sir.’ So, what is it you wanted to ask? Is it about the intelligence research I requested?”

“Before that, I have a question.”

“Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

“Even considering the importance of security and the pride of witches, it seems strange to me that witches don’t ask me to share my magical knowledge.”

I finally voiced a question that had been on my mind for a long time—why witches, despite their great interest in my magi-tech creations, never asked me to share my knowledge or secrets. In fact, whenever I tried to offer even a little, they avoided it.

‘I’m curious about the Grand Witch of the Snowfield too, but I’ll save that for later.’

I had other questions, but I decided to hold off for now, worried that delving into them might interfere with her fate.

“The reason is simple. Young witches who haven’t gained independence cannot learn magic from anyone other than their master.”

Isabelle answered my question casually, as if it were no big deal.

Had I known it was that straightforward, I would have asked earlier. Instead, I had misunderstood the situation unnecessarily.

“…Is it some kind of tradition?”

"It's a tradition, yes, but not a harmful one. It's closely tied to the fact that witchcraft is passed down from one person to another," Isabelle continued to explain.

"Witches must train in magic in ways that are unique to each individual because of their connection to spirit magic and intricate arcane rituals."

I listened to her explanation in silence.

"As a result, witches cannot arbitrarily learn magic from anyone other than their master. If done incorrectly, the circle within their heart could become disrupted."

It was clear there was a deeper story behind this practice.

Come to think of it, Arina had mentioned "witches' circumstances" when I gave her the enchanted bag.

"Learning or practicing other types of magic is only possible after a witch has gained independence from their master."

"Then why is it that witches who have already gained independence avoid asking me to teach them directly? In fact, they seem to shy away whenever I try to share something."

"That’s because... out of respect for their master. Independent witches won’t casually ask someone else to teach them magic. If they want to learn a different branch of magic, they usually acquire a magic book or conduct their own research. That includes me as well."

Hearing her explanation, I began to understand why the number of witches was so low. In fact, it seemed miraculous that their traditions had survived at all.

'No wonder they were so obsessed with observing the Golden Carriage and other magi-tech tools I made. They were probably studying and researching them in their own way just by watching.'

Still, I had a feeling that magi-tech would gradually flourish in the North within a decade. But for someone like me, desperate to return to Earth, even that seemed far too slow.

'There must be more to this. Would respect for one’s master really be enough to suppress the intense academic curiosity of magic users?'

I still couldn’t shake the lingering doubt.

'Well, it’s not like asking further will get me a straight answer. I’ll need to figure this out another way.'

If I couldn’t teach witches directly, I’d have to raise the level of magi-tech in the North using my own methods—and as quickly as possible.

"Then, if I were to write books on mana stone studies or magi-tech, would you be interested in reading them?" I asked.

If I couldn’t teach them directly because of their unspoken rules, why not create books instead? Something like The Principles of Magi-Tech seemed like a fitting title.

"Hmm...? That’s... quite surprising. To think you’d consider sharing your knowledge and expertise so openly," Isabelle replied, genuinely astonished.

"Why would you go to such lengths?"

"I can’t go into detail. Just... let’s say I owe the North, particularly Renslet, a significant debt."

"...?!"

Isabelle gave me a curious look, as if trying to gauge how much truth was in my words.

"No," she said, shaking her head and rejecting my suggestion. "As tempting as it is, now is not the right time. Please don’t distribute any magic books yet. If you’re already working on one, stop for now."

"May I ask why?"

"Because those books could fall into the Empire’s hands."

Her reasoning echoed what Arina had told me before.

"Do you suspect there are Imperial spies among the witches’ ranks?"

"The Witches’ Assembly isn’t made up of witches alone. There are children who lost their masters in accidents or lacked the talent to become full-fledged witches. Many of them work as clerks or alchemists. It’s better to be cautious."

"What if I inscribed magic seals onto the books so only the intended owner could read them? Like the barrier I installed on the Golden Carriage?"

"Unlike the Golden Carriage, books are small and portable. If I were an Imperial Sigma agent, I’d kidnap the witch along with the book. Perhaps by targeting the witch’s apprentice, for example."

"..."

Hearing her explanation, I nodded reluctantly.

"Then when do you think knowledge-sharing will be possible?"

"It shouldn’t take too long. A year at most. Once we completely root out the Empire’s rats in High Castle, then I—and the other witches—will be the ones asking for your help."

Isabelle’s eyes turned sly as she suddenly asked, "By the way, Sir Arad, you seem to be stalling when it comes to the matter of intelligence."

"That’s... well..."

'So, the moment has finally come.'

"Bad news, I take it?" she asked.

"...Yes."

I took a deep breath and opened the drawer of my desk, feeling the weight of what I was about to reveal. From it, I retrieved soil that had been drained of its mana, a remnant I had been investigating.

"I recently confirmed where the mana in this soil ultimately flowed," I said.

"Don’t tell me... the greenhouse farms?" Isabelle cautiously asked.

"Exactly. The greenhouses in High Castle have been siphoning mana from the North. If this continues, a massive famine will strike the entire region within decades."

"Why didn’t the spirits say anything about this?"

"Because the ones draining the mana are the spirits themselves."

"...?!"

"The design of the greenhouse farms was flawed from the beginning."