She Is Not a Witch

The robes had a slight texture, designed to fit perfectly, with minimal metal ornaments that weren’t cumbersome, reminiscent of the minimalist style of the modern era in the previous world.

The clothing style of these mages from Ruluna differed greatly from that of Vegar, making it hard to imagine they lived in the same era. From Western Wind to Vegar, the style was still biased towards medieval traditional attire, with nobles favoring silk, gauze, lace, and other fabrics. The Ruluna mage robes, however, had edges wrapped in gold or silver trim rather than light, airy fabrics, giving a sense of substance and practicality.

The leader of their delegation was an elderly man, tall and thin, with completely white hair, yet still giving an impression of vigor, his eyes particularly bright.

“Master Brontón, welcome to you and all members of the delegation. I am Lacey, the current president of the Carithes Merchant Association.”

Loranhil, along with several executives from the association, welcomed them at the headquarters. The Ruluna delegation consisted of 14 people, with nearly a hundred apprentices who were directly arranged for accommodation.

Those attending the banquet were the core members. Besides the lead mage Brontón, there were middle-aged and young mages. One particularly eye-catching figure was a female alchemist around twenty-six years old.

She had beautiful black hair reaching her waist, with a golden hairband adorned with a blooming white flower on one side, its pure white petals inlaid with a blue crystal. Moreover, the bracelet on her wrist was a crystal ring with metal edges, blue particles constantly emitting light and swirling within.

Although other mages also had alchemical accessories, such as flying mechanical hummingbirds and pocket watches engraved with star charts, none were as striking and beautiful as hers. Her gold-trimmed white robe perfectly accentuated her alluring figure, with a slit in the front revealing a short skirt and slightly fleshy thighs beneath.

The rectangular dining table was laden with various delicacies. The main courses included local red-clawed crab, roasted cod, cheesecake, and roasted meat. Fruits included Vegar’s oranges, dragonfruit, mangoes, and apples. There were also desserts like puddings. Under the candlelight, it all looked sumptuous. The warm tones of the dining room helped everyone feel at ease.

Seeing this lavish dinner, Mage Brontón nodded with slight satisfaction before sitting down.

Both sides first briefly introduced themselves, then slowly began discussing some anecdotes about Angus, the previous head of Carithes.

Although Loranhil had recently developed the association quite well, given the short time, in the eyes of these mages who had come from afar, she was just a lucky flower vase, fortunate to have such a capable father as Angus.

Angus’s rapid rise over the past decade or so was quite renowned in both countries, but no one had heard of who his daughter was. The mages prided themselves on their extensive knowledge and wisdom, and actually looked down somewhat on this group of merchants from the neighboring country. This disdain stemmed from a sense of superiority in terms of technology, wisdom, and virtue. If it weren’t for Loranhil’s extraordinary beauty and unusual status, they would hardly bother maintaining basic respect.

Even if most merchants were indeed unsatisfactory, this vague sense of superiority still made Loranhil feel uncomfortable, especially when they conversed among themselves, occasionally dropping professional terms deliberately, as if treating her like a flower vase who couldn’t understand anything.

Showing off their knowledge was one thing, but sometimes they deliberately tried to attract her attention, as if thinking themselves superior and able to easily captivate this merchant’s daughter.

Gradually, Loranhil spoke less and less, merely maintaining a polite attitude.

“Do you know, Miss Lacey? I was also acquainted with your father. A few years ago, he came to Ruluna to explore cooperation on iron warships, but unfortunately, Ruluna still had prohibitions then, and certain technologies couldn’t be freely disseminated, so it didn’t work out. Now the situation has changed, and such cooperation is no longer restricted, but sadly, your father is gone. It’s truly regrettable.”

Mage Brontón expressed superficial regret and mentioned some cooperation projects from recent years, but his demeanor seemed to say, “You should be very grateful for this opportunity,” his attitude as lofty as if bestowing charity, as though Vegar would be nothing without Ruluna’s technology.

This time, Loranhil didn’t even want to smile. She simply gave a noncommittal “Mm” and silently lowered her head to eat, letting the association executives beside her respond. The mages weren’t surprised, thinking it normal for a flower vase young lady who knew nothing to be a bit reserved and shy. However, the young female mage looked at Loranhil with interest, saying nothing.

The superficially harmonious dinner ended. Loranhil had no interest in arranging any entertainment activities for this group, so she simply followed protocol and had carriages send them back to their lodgings.

After dinner, Loranhil paced around the small courtyard several times to vent her frustration. She felt this cooperation was doomed because she disliked these people.

What’s so special about iron airships anyway? The Mercury Dynasty already had them. Why don’t they restore the magical warships from the Oz era? Those space-air vessels would easily outclass these clumsy airships. The airships fly slowly, are so big, and are just sitting ducks. What’s there to be so proud of?

Sitting at her desk, the young lady had already started thinking about how to develop without cooperating with Ruluna. She wasn’t the type to like compromising herself. Any cooperation, including marriage, should be based on equal status and mutual respect and assistance to yield good results. If one side acts like a lap dog, it won’t last long; there will always come a day when the mentality breaks down.

So she sat at her desk and began to use the system’s data to research early aircraft development and design drawings, as well as early sailing warship blueprints and the revolutionary dreadnought design concepts and drawings.

Relying on others is ultimately unreliable; what you have yourself is the best.

With this thought in mind, she continued to analyze, draw, and think at her desk, working on integrating the excellent design concepts from her previous world into this world. She didn’t go to sleep until very late.

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The next day, both sides officially convened in the conference hall to discuss matters. This time, many shipyard craftsmen, managers, and designers from the Carithes Merchant Association also participated.

In the bright morning light, under the giant Night Lacquer Flower painting, the two sides sat clearly divided on either side, with only the core figures from both parties sitting together at the round table in the center.

The negotiation meeting for the cooperative manufacturing project of iron navy warships for combat against the Verdant Empire officially began.