After the battle ended, the villagers left in groups of twos and threes.
Mia was the first to cross the fence and run over. She looked left and right, carefully checking Roland for any injuries, completely unconcerned about running barefoot over fine sand and gravel.
Roland suppressed the urge to pick Mia up, and solemnly warned her, “You’re not wearing shoes. You could easily cut your feet like this.”
But Mia shook her head, indicating there was nothing to worry about. She was already used to going around barefoot; wearing shoes, on the contrary, would feel unnatural to her.
Although she was reluctant to admit it, Roland now understood why her mother used to nag so much in her previous life. Unknowingly, she had gradually gotten used to the role of a mother, and Mia had become an irreplaceable family member in her life.
Originally, she hadn’t decided what gift to give Mia, but now she had an idea. Roland planned to make a pair of shoes for her. Since Mia refused to wear shoes made by others, surely she’d be willing to wear a pair made by Roland herself.
After Mia, the next to approach were the butler Sebas and Julian, along with the others.
“Miss Roland, you’re not hurt, are you?”
Faced with Sebas’s inquiry, Roland nodded lightly. “I’m not hurt.”
Julian looked at her with adoring eyes. “Lord Roland, your magic is amazing! Can I learn it too?”
“As long as you work hard, one day you’ll become a mage too.”
“All right! Then I’ll become a handsome mage, and when the time comes, I’ll use magic to make a super huge, super beautiful firework for Lina!”
Learning magic just to set off fireworks?
Roland really hadn’t thought of that reason.
If Julian couldn’t sense magic, let alone become a mage, he might never master even Fireball in his lifetime. But people should have hope in their lives. There was no need to shatter dreams too early. Who knew, maybe he really did have that talent?
After that, Roland returned to the manor.
As usual, Cheryl welcomed her back and reported on the management of the manor while Roland was away.
Besides the maids under Cheryl’s supervision, Graham had also reorganized the self-defense force, so they wouldn’t just take wages without working.
“Well done. I’ll have Sebas give you all a raise later, and working hours can be reduced as much as possible. Just make sure daily maintenance is kept up, and skip any unnecessary tasks—I won’t mind. If you do something that satisfies me, there’ll be no shortage of rewards.”
“Understood, I’ll pass on your message to the other maids.”
Ever since the last public punishment of Kelly, no more thefts had occurred. Severe means were effective, but they could also breed unrest. Roland understood well that ruling by fear did more harm than good; only a balance of leniency and strictness could ensure proper management.
She asked again, “Also, do you know how to make shoes?”
“Shoes? I learned from the last head maid, but it’s been a long time since I did it. My skills might be a bit rusty.”
“That’s good. I might need your help later.”
“It would be my honor.”
After giving out the instructions, Roland prepared to return to her bedroom to rest for a while. Her gaze inadvertently landed on the gemstone—or rather, the crystal ball—on her nightstand. It was a keepsake left by her father, its origin unknown.
Abruptly, she felt a sharp pain flash through her consciousness, and a dazzling word appeared in her mind—Hero.
Roland suddenly remembered something very important.
Her father, Rod, had said more than once that the blood of Heroes flowed in his veins. Even though the Demon Clan no longer existed, he still wanted to be a worthy Hero.
“Hero… So does that mean both my father and I are descendants of Heroes?”
If that were truly the case, Roland not only wouldn’t feel happy—she’d suspect there must be some kind of huge pitfall involved.
Logically speaking, after defeating the Demon Lord who had threatened the continent, the descendants of Heroes shouldn’t have ended up in such dire straits. Yet here she was, the daughter of a mere baron, facing the risk of her fief being taken away.
To fall so low, either her ancestors had made disastrous mistakes, or someone had set them up. Roland figured it was probably both.
But if things really were that way, it would explain why her father’s study was filled with so many books about Heroes. He had completely seen himself as a second Hero—insisting on matching the first generation’s words and deeds in every way.
Roland, however, didn’t see it that way. At most, she might act as a Demon King wreaking havoc—being a Hero was out of the question. Just managing her little patch of land was exhausting enough.
“No more thinking about it. Forget it.”
She lay on the bed, closed her eyes, and darkness swept in.
Deep, muddy, terrifying, restless…
All sorts of indescribable emotions surged from the darkness into Roland’s dream. She seemed to hear someone muttering, or perhaps shrieking hysterically, but it was all too indistinct—like watching snow on a broken TV, the voices as fragmented as a snapped videotape.
Until a ray of light appeared. The light grew closer and closer, and the sounds gradually became clearer.
Suddenly, a strange yet familiar voice woke her. “Mama!”
Roland was startled awake and saw Mia sitting at the desk, drawing something.
“Mia… did you just call me?”
Mia turned her head, looking at Roland in confusion.
It wasn’t Mia? Then who just called me?
The question occupied Roland’s still-groggy mind. She felt she really ought to get to the bottom of it, but everything that had just happened was like a segment of thread without a beginning or end—there was no point to grab onto, let alone trace it back to its source.
She took a moment to compose herself.
Since she couldn’t figure it out even if she racked her brains, she might as well stop thinking about it.
Roland wasn’t one of those old superstitious folks—ghost stories couldn’t scare her.
The matter of magic was temporarily put aside; next, she had to deal with the issue of the magic mine.
As the saying goes, money isn’t everything, but without money, you can do nothing.
At this stage, nearly all of Roland’s income came from the output of the mine. This link directly concerned her livelihood and was the top priority on her to-do list.
It was just that she had never personally visited the mine, so she had no idea what things were really like there. And if she went there openly, it might draw unnecessary trouble.
If she went undercover and mixed in to ask around, she could definitely learn the real situation.
Going incognito for a secret visit—this was exactly the idea.
Just as Roland was considering how she should disguise herself, Mia held out her finished little notebook for her to see. On it, several little figures of different colors were drawn.
From the looks of it, there was the white-haired, white-dressed Roland, the tall and handsome butler, the gentle Nasha, and Cheryl, who always wore a stern face like a tigress. Everyone was holding hands, surrounding Mia in the middle, as if playing a ring-around-the-rosy game.
It was a nice drawing. The only problem was that Roland just couldn’t appreciate such childlike art. But seeing Mia’s look of eager anticipation, she went against her conscience and praised her, “It’s really nice. But there aren’t enough people—try adding a few more next time.”
The implication was for Mia to make a few more friends. Roland didn’t want her daughter to become a shut-in.
After hesitating for a moment, Mia nodded, indicating that she would.