Lord: I have built a witch's sanctuary.

Chapter 91 Night and Kiss

Chapter 90 Night and Kiss

There is one night left before the remaining two Fimbullls attack in winter.

On the second floor of the Tower of Babel, in the Titan Forge area, within the camp built by Lorraine.

The massive steel dome shielded the area from the swirling snow, and the once cold and desolate industrial zone was now filled with something called "human vitality."

The engineering golems clumsily carried the fuel they had scavenged from the ruins, piling it up into a small mountain on the open ground.

Orange flames rose up, dispelling the bone-chilling cold that seeped into the metal floor.

This is not just ordinary heating; it's a ritual.

Lorraine sat in the main seat, holding an iron skewer with a sizzling piece of beef gravy on it. The fat dripped onto the hot coals, releasing an enticing aroma.

Sitting around him were his entire team.

On the left is Anna, the maid who has just completed her third-tier advancement and is now able to skillfully control "Dual Heaven of Ice and Fire"; on the right is Ohm, the Witch of Myriad Machines who has regained her physical body.

Opposite them were Olivia, the head butler who was calculating the loss of supplies with an abacus, and Lyra, the witch of fate, who was huddled in a corner holding a crystal ball.

As for Knight Victor, who had just broken through the fourth-tier barrier, he stood behind Lorraine like an iron tower, wiping his newly acquired "Fimbour Wolf King Greatsword," the blade reflecting a chilling, eerie blue light in the firelight.

Everyone was silent, everyone was unusually solemn.

"Don't hold back, everyone."

Lorraine's gaze swept over the crowd, breaking the silence.

"The rest of Fimbulb Winter will arrive first thing tomorrow morning."

Lorraine's voice was calm, as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather, "This will be our last battle on this snowfield. After we kill those two old bastards, our footsteps will no longer be confined to the Northern Wasteland."

"We want to go home, back to Frostwolf City."

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, a slight smile playing on his lips: "This is also the last time we'll camp around this campfire like this. When we return to Frostwolf City, we'll be greeted by the castle's fireplace and silken beds."

"Go home, back to Frostwolf City—"

Anna murmured these words over and over.

Her hands stopped moving, the firelight reflecting on her face, and her pupils, which had turned crimson due to her promotion, were now filled with a layer of mist.

"Clatter".

A tear fell onto the back of her hand.

Then came the second drop, and the third drop.

This witch, who could burn enemies to ashes with her pale fire without batting an eye on the battlefield, now looked like a wronged child, her shoulders shaking violently.

Lorraine put down the iron skewer in her hand, her brow furrowing slightly. "What's wrong? Were you injured while clearing out the corrosive mechs these past few days?"

"No—no—"

Anna frantically wiped away her tears, but the more she wiped, the more tears streamed down her face.

She sniffled, her voice trembling with tears, and said, "Young Master, I'm just—so happy. I thought we were going to die in that isolated White Wolf outpost, I thought you would freeze to death, but—but I really never thought we could have this day—"

She looked up, her delicate face streaked with tears, yet she gazed at Lorraine with an almost fanatical adoration.

"Young master, you've really made something of yourself. You're even more impressive than the Earl now."

Lorraine was both amused and exasperated, and reached out to rub her head: "Is that all you've got? What are you crying about?"

"I can't control myself—"

Anna sobbed, her gaze gradually becoming distant. "I remembered the time back in the family. Winters were so cold then, we didn't even have charcoal in the servants' quarters, and that head steward—"

Anna's body trembled instinctively at the mention of that title.

"That scoundrel, relying on the Countess's favor, always dumps the dirtiest and hardest work on me. In the dead of winter, when all the rivers are frozen, he forces me to break the ice to wash clothes—"

Anna stretched out her hands.

Those hands are now fair and slender, with flames dancing at their fingertips, flames powerful enough to incinerate everything.

But in her memory, those hands were covered in chilblains, bleeding, and swollen like carrots.

"I was so scared back then. I was afraid that if I didn't finish washing, I wouldn't get any food. I was afraid that the young master would be punished because of me. Every night I would huddle in the woodshed, too cold to sleep. I would think that if one day I could have enough to eat and not be scolded by him, I would be willing to die immediately."

Anna's voice grew softer and softer, but the hatred in her tone grew stronger, like a volcano that had been dormant for ten years about to erupt.

Lorraine looked at her, his gaze gradually turning cold. Of course he remembered that head steward, a typical snob, the Countess's most loyal and vicious dog.

"Anna," Lorraine called softly.

Anna looked up at him, her eyes blurry with tears.

"Now, with just a flick of your finger, you can turn him into an ice sculpture or a pile of ashes."

Lorraine took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away her tears, his tone gentle yet tinged with a bloodthirsty undertone, "Are you still afraid of him?"

Anna was stunned.

She glanced instinctively at the pale flame flickering in her palm. Yes, she was already a third-tier witch, and had even killed fourth-tier demons. The Grand Supervisor, who had once seemed like a demon to her, was now nothing more than a mortal she could crush with a flick of her wrist.

"I'm not afraid anymore."

Anna took a deep breath, the timidity in her eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling killing intent. "As long as we stay by the young master's side, no one can bully us anymore."

She suddenly stood up, walked to Lorraine, knelt on one knee, and solemnly pleaded like a knight pledging allegiance: "Young master, when we return to Frostwolf City, please allow me to take my revenge. I will personally repay that bastard for the humiliation he inflicted on you, tenfold, a hundredfold."

Lorraine looked at her and smiled.

"Granted."

This promise, made so casually, sentenced a person to death.

The atmosphere became somewhat heavy because of Anna's outburst. Just then, the sound of abacus beads clicking suddenly rang out.

"Since it's a wishing festival, I can't miss it."

Olivia closed the ledger in her hand and brushed a strand of long hair behind her ear.

In the firelight, this once-impoverished female lord displayed a stunning beauty and confidence.

She was no longer the woman who groveled for a few bags of seeds.

As a third-tier "Fertile Earth Mother", she controls the food supply of the entire Tower of Babel.

"My lord."

Olivia looked directly into Lorraine's eyes, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Like Anna, I had a similar past. Back in Black Iron City, I wanted to farm, but the nobles around me mocked me, saying I was despicable, a peasant baron. They made things difficult for me, cut off my water supply, and even set fire to my wheat fields—"

"Even after being exiled to the Snow Eagle outpost, they still tried to block my grain supply line. I had to fawn over those merchants in order to have a chance to sell my wheat."

She paused, her eyes sharpening. "But I know that food is the most important thing. In this damned world, whoever has the food is king."

"Only here can I sow seeds without any worries and wait for the harvest with peace of mind."

Olivia held up one finger, pointing to the steel ground beneath her feet and then to the camp's walls.

"When I return to Frostwolf City, I want to build a new mill, a huge bakery that will fill the entire city with the aroma of bread, and I would also like to request that you grant me the best three thousand acres of land outside Frostwolf City."

She leaned forward, her ambition undeniable: "I will cultivate hardy barley on a large scale. I will make those nobles who once mocked me kneel before my mill, begging me to sell them a bag of flour."

Lorraine looked at this ambitious woman with undisguised admiration in her eyes.

"You've narrowed your perspective, Olivia."

Lorraine picked up the flask, poured himself a glass, and said calmly, "Three thousand acres? That's just a drop in the bucket. Once we take Frostwolf City, the entire agricultural plan for the Northern Territory will be yours. I want you to grow not only grain, but also potions, and to set up plant factories. I want to turn this snowfield, this frozen land, into our granary!"

Olivia's eyes suddenly lit up with an alarming intensity, and her breathing became rapid.

She picked up the wine glass in front of her and downed it in one gulp towards Lorraine: "Deal! My lord!"

As night deepened, the campfire crackled and popped.

After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, a sense of weariness crept in.

Lorraine clapped her hands, signaling everyone to go and rest.

"Alright, we have a tough battle to fight tomorrow, go to sleep. Victor, you're on watch for the first half of the night."

"Yes, sir." Victor, holding his greatsword, turned and walked toward the dark sentry post.

Just as Lorraine was about to stand up, she felt her clothes being tugged.

He looked down and saw it was Ohm.

The witch of myriad machines, who had just acquired a human body, was looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion.

She stood barefoot on the still-warm metal plate, wearing Lorraine's coat, which made her look exceptionally petite.

"What's wrong, Ohm?" Lorraine asked patiently. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Ohm shook his head.

She didn't say anything, but simply took a step forward.

Her movements were very light, as if she were executing some kind of precise program.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, she stood on tiptoe.

The girl's soft, slightly cool lips gently pressed against Lorraine's cheek.

For a split second, Lorraine's mind went blank.

"Based on my database analysis —"

Ohm took a step back, a blush rising to her cheeks in a color she herself couldn't understand. Her voice was barely a whisper, "It's a highly effective protocol for expressing dependence and affection. Lorraine, my subconscious tells me I want to do this."

After saying that, she seemed to be overloaded, turned around and ran, disappearing into her house in the blink of an eye.

Lorraine touched her cheek, still in a daze, when a fragrant breeze wafted towards her.

"Oh dear, even that metal lump has learned to steal food?"

Olivia's voice carried a hint of mockery and resentment. She strode over, grabbed Lorraine by the collar, and forced him to lower his head slightly.

"Hmm"

Unlike Ohm's light, fleeting kiss, Olivia's kiss carried an aggressiveness and possessiveness characteristic of mature women.

She bit Lorraine's lip hard until she tasted blood before letting go.

"This is the deposit." Olivia licked her lips, her eyes so alluring they could drip water. "If you lose even one acre of that three thousand acres, I'll hold you accountable."

"Remember that night a few days ago, before the Winter of Blades arrived? You'd better watch out. If you can't keep your promise, hmph."

"I can't defeat you alone, but there are four witches of ours now. If we gang up on you, you absolutely cannot withstand it!"

After saying that, she walked away with graceful, cat-like steps, completely satisfied.

Lorraine covered her lips, looking completely bewildered.

Before he could even catch his breath, Anna blushed and leaned closer.

She nestled her delicate body into Lorraine's embrace, tilted her head slightly, and gazed at him with her ruby-like eyes, as tender as autumn water.

"Young...Young Master..."

She trembled slightly with nervousness, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes. "I'm not greedy, I just want to be like them."

After saying that, she closed her eyes, quickly pecked Lorraine on the other cheek, and then ran away like a startled rabbit.

Only Lorraine and Lyra, who was huddled in a corner, remained at the scene.

Lorraine sighed and looked at the girl with heterochromatic eyes.

"Want to join in too?" Lorraine joked, trying to ease the awkwardness.

Layla raised her head, a resolute light flashing in her heterochromatic black and gold eyes.

She stood up and walked over to Lorraine.

"My fate has long been intertwined with yours."

Lyra's voice was soft, yet carried a sense of solemn destiny.

She cupped Lorraine's face in her hands and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

"May Lady Luck always favor you, my lord."

After saying that, she ran away, her face flushed.

A cold wind blew by, and the campfire gradually died down.

Lorraine stood there all alone, touching her face, which was covered in kisses, feeling the various sensations left on her face—cool, hot, and moist.

He glanced in the direction Victor was keeping watch, and a ridiculous thought suddenly popped into his head: Luckily, Victor was a man, and a rigid knight at that.

Lorraine touched her forehead, then her cheeks and chin, both amused and exasperated.

"These girls—"

Lorraine sighed helplessly, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up wildly.

He looked up at the dark, steel sky above him.

The tension that had been weighing on my mind before the big battle vanished completely.

Instead, there was an unprecedented sense of ease, and a burning desire to completely overturn the world.

"Who's really taking advantage of whom?"

Lorraine muttered something and casually extinguished the campfire.

For some reason, Lorraine always felt that she was the one who was at a disadvantage after being kissed by a beautiful girl.

He tilted his head back, looked at the sky, and thought about it smugly.

Alas, being too popular isn't necessarily a bad thing.

After struggling in this wasteland for so long, I've finally made something of myself.

He never imagined that he would build such a team in this desolate snowfield and gain a group of girls he cherished, who also cherished him.