Rewrite That Witch
CH402 · Rewrite
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Chapter 402: Organizational Structure

At the start of winter’s second month, Barov walked into Roland’s office with a stack of books tucked under his arm. Ice laced the windowpanes in pale fern patterns; the stove in the corner pushed heat toward the desk but not quite far enough to reach the door.

He stopped before the prince’s desk. A large color painting covered most of the surface — inked lines sprawling across paper in multiple shades, rivers and mountains notated in careful script. “Is this… a map of the entire Western Region?”

“Not just the Western Region,” Roland said, laughing. “This includes a portion of the Barbarian Land and the Misty Forest — particularly this area.” He pointed to a section north of the Impassable Mountain Range: the Fertile Plains Agatha had described. “What we’ve already charted is roughly three times the size of the Western Region. If we manage to cultivate this land, we could resettle hundreds of thousands of people.”

The Devils’ town was gone — its disappearance still a mystery — but to map the space and confirm no new camp within two hundred kilometers of Border Town, he had sent Lightning and Maggie. With Soraya able to ride along for drawing, the resulting maps were accurate enough to plan from.

“In the Barbarian Land, there aren’t only demonic beasts,” Barov said carefully, “but the terrifying enemies you’ve mentioned. Won’t it be too dangerous to cultivate land toward the northwest?”

“By that time the First Army will most likely have what it needs to fight demons.” Roland traced a slow circle over the plains. “Nowhere is safe if we can’t defeat them. That’s the arithmetic.”

Ever since demon scouts had been spotted in the Misty Forest, Roland had known he couldn’t keep that information to himself indefinitely. To prevent a sudden revelation from triggering panic, he had disclosed the demons’ existence to his senior staff first, framing them as a higher-order variant of demonic hybrid beasts — dangerous, yes, but comprehensible. He had said nothing about the two Battles of Divine Will.

He rolled the map up and set it aside. “What have you brought me?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Barov spread his books across the desk. “I’ve drawn up an expansion plan for the City Hall, as you requested.”

“Let me see.”

To manage the territory’s rapid growth, Roland had organized his government along lines drawn from the future — four main branches: the City Hall, the military, the Security Bureau, and the Witch Union.

Under the expansion plan, the City Hall would serve as the cabinet — the territory’s administrative core, eventually staffed by approximately five hundred people. Six departments: finance, foreign affairs, education, agriculture, industry, and law, with additional departments added as demand required. When Graycastle was reunified, each city would replicate the template and report upward to the City Hall.

The military, beyond its combat function, maintained independent production and medical departments as logistical support. Each division had its own commander-in-chief for operational decisions, but supreme authority rested with Roland.

The Security Bureau operated in shadow — its funding not allocated through the City Hall, its members not entered in any official record. Its purpose: internal security and the suppression of corruption.

The Witch Union was the hardest to place, and Roland had thought longest about it. In the end he kept it separate rather than folding the witches into existing departments. The reason was practical: some witches, after evolution, would be capable of working across multiple functions simultaneously. Anna and Soraya already contributed to industry, agriculture, the military, and education at once. Sorting them into a single category would waste them.

There was another reason, which Scroll and Wendy had raised with him: there would always be periods when a witch had no assigned work. Keeping them together maintained morale in a way that scattered appointments could not. His long-term hope was that the Witch Union would eventually manage itself — membership, inspections, and work allocation handled from within.

“Can you actually hire five hundred literate people?” Roland looked up from the final page. “In most territories that would be impossible. Even the royal cities have literate people, but they’re mostly nobles who wouldn’t consent to serve as apprentices.”

“Include the current graduating class and there shouldn’t be a problem,” Barov replied. “The recruitment notices drew the largest response of anything we’ve posted. Civil service positions are the most sought-after jobs we’ve advertised.”

“It seems working for the government is popular everywhere.” Roland’s mouth curved without his meaning it to. “In that case, proceed with recruitment along these lines. The remaining task is formulating the laws.”

“Pass me the principal articles you mentioned last time, and my apprentices will complete the rest as quickly as possible,” Barov said, with the bright energy of a man who had been waiting for exactly this conversation.

“It’s called the Basic Laws,” Roland said. Enthusiastic workers weren’t unique to witches — this was a good sign for a new regime.

“One more thing, Your Highness.” Barov hesitated. “If the City Hall expands to this scale, the current building won’t accommodate the staff. Could we—”

“Build a new City Hall?” Roland nodded. “Of course. I’ll have Karl see to it.” The citizens rarely entered the castle, but they settled their affairs at the City Hall — it was the face of his governance. It needed a certain dignity, not grandeur exactly, but enough to hold the people’s confidence. An austere building suggested an austere administration, and that was not the message he wanted.

After Barov took his leave, Roland called his guards to bring in Prius Dessau — the knight from the Elk Family.

He hadn’t seen Prius in half a year. The man was visibly heavier, his face fuller, his cheeks carrying the ruddy, well-fed glow of someone who had not gone a meal short all winter. Life had treated him generously, and life showed.

“The Convenience Market has been well-stocked with eggs and poultry lately,” Roland said. “That’s your doing.”

“Ha…” Prius laughed, a little bashful. “Without your support from the beginning, I couldn’t have managed any of it.”

The path hadn’t been smooth. When Prius first started out, fowl plague swept through and killed much of his stock. Roland had treated it as a tuition cost rather than a failure, bought him new chicks from the Stronghold, and let him start again. The man had become indispensable.

“I’d like to recruit you into the City Hall, under the agriculture department. Are you willing?”

“Your Highness — you don’t want me to keep raising chickens and ducks?”

“Of course I do. That’s exactly why I want you in the position.” Roland leaned forward. “You’ve been doing it well, and I need you to teach others to do it just as well. The scale will expand more than tenfold. You and your family can’t manage that alone. In the City Hall, you’d pass your knowledge on — turn what you know into what a hundred people know.”

With Lily’s ability to eliminate bacteria and disease, the worst problems of animal husbandry had ceased to exist. Beyond chickens and ducks, Roland’s plans extended to cows and sheep.

“This is work no less honorable than a knighthood.” He let the words settle before continuing. “There will come a day when eggs and poultry sit on every household table in the Western Region. When that day arrives, people will remember who made it possible. What do you say?”

Prius Dessau straightened. He clenched his fists, drew a breath, and bowed. “I am willing to serve you, Your Highness.”

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