Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

The girl looked Wayne up and down, her eyes sparkling.

"I've heard about you from my aunt! She said your hands are incredibly powerful; they can make a woman cry!"

Wayne: "..."

lady:"…………"

The air fell silent for a moment.

Wayne looked at the lady.

"That's just how she talks," the lady said, raising her hand to her forehead, her voice filled with helplessness. "Please don't take it to heart."

Wayne withdrew his gaze and looked back at the girl in front of him.

Around nineteen years old, half a head shorter than him, with messy red hair and frighteningly bright eyes. His face was a bit round, with a touch of baby fat, and he revealed two small tiger teeth when he smiled.

Her clothes were a mess, with the collar askew, the sleeves rolled up, and her skirt covered in dust from who-knows-where.

He doesn't look like a fugitive at all.

Like a wild girl who just climbed over the wall of someone's backyard to play.

The panel popped up.

Name: Lillian

[Identity: Witch (Second Tier)]

[Actual age: 19 years old]

[Past: Orphaned at a young age, she was raised by her aunt. She awakened her powers at age twelve, which her aunt concealed. Last month, she assassinated the son of a count in another province who had harassed a flower girl; her whereabouts were reported to the inspection team.]

[Current status: Not afraid at all. Note: Her aunt is so worried she hasn't slept well for three days, while she herself is eating and drinking well every day; she was just eating an apple in her room.]

[Note 2: She said your hands "could make a woman cry" because her aunt would always say "Father Wayne's hands are amazing" after returning from church. She didn't realize her aunt was referring to the part about shaking hands to soothe emotions during confession; she misunderstood.]

[Note 3: She didn't do it on purpose; she's just innocent.]

[Note 4: Very simple.]

After looking at the panel, Wayne glanced at the carefree girl in front of him.

Lillian tilted her head to look at him.

Why aren't you saying anything?

Wayne spoke.

"Your aunt asked me to take you to Frost Town."

Lillian blinked.

"I know."

"It's dangerous there."

"I know."

"I might die."

Lillian thought for a moment.

"But we'll die if we stay here."

Lillian continued, "The warrants have already been issued. The people from the capital will find this place sooner or later. I don't want to be caught and burned at the stake."

Wayne was silent for two seconds.

"Aren't you afraid?"

Lillian tilted her head.

"What are you afraid of?"

"die."

Lillian thought for a moment: "Yes, I am afraid, but what's the use of being afraid? It doesn't mean I won't die just because I'm afraid."

Wayne didn't say anything.

Lillian laughed again.

"Besides, aren't you going to Frostbite? I'll go with you. It'll be nice to have company on the journey."

Wayne looked at her.

Another message popped up on the panel.

[Note 5: She's genuinely fearless, not pretending. Note 6: People with this kind of personality either live very long or die very quickly. There's no middle ground.]

Wayne turned off the panel.

Turning to the lady.

"Madam, I agree to this."

The lady's eyes lit up.

"real?"

Wayne nodded.

"Meet at the church entrance the day after tomorrow morning."

The lady nodded repeatedly.

"Definitely, definitely."

Lillian raised her hand beside her.

"I'll definitely be on time!"

Wayne glanced at her.

"Frosttown is very cold. Bring plenty of warm clothes."

Lillian blinked.

"Thick clothes? I don't have any."

The lady said, "I have some. I'll prepare it for her."

Lillian turned to her aunt.

"Auntie, I want that red cloak!"

Madam: "...Understood."

The Viscountess picked up her glass and took a sip.

"Lillian," she said, "the kitchen has made some new desserts, go check if they're ready."

Lillian blinked.

"Snacks? What snacks?"

"The almond shortbread you like."

Lillian's eyes lit up.

"real?"

"Go check it out, bring it up when it's ready."

Lillian turned and ran, and the door slammed shut.

The room fell silent.

The Viscountess put down her cup and looked at Wayne.

"Father Wayne," she said, "there's one more thing..."

She paused, then didn't continue.

Wayne looked at her.

She hasn't slept well for seven days. Ever since her first confession, she hasn't intended to let you go. She's come to see you every month since, each time saying she's guilty and needs to repent, but she's not guilty at all; she just wants you to touch her. Now that you're leaving, she's too embarrassed to directly ask for your help. She does have a little something else going on. But the main problem is insomnia.

Wayne looked at the lady.

"Has Madam been sleeping poorly lately?"

The Viscountess was taken aback.

How did you know?

"The blue marks under your eyes," Wayne said.

The lady opened her mouth, but no words came out.

From the day she heard that Wayne was going to be transferred, she hadn't slept a wink. Lying down, all she could think about was him; she tossed and turned until dawn, her eyes closed, but her body awake.

She's not young anymore.

She's thirty-five, her husband rarely comes home, and she's the only one supporting this city and this house. She's long given up on love and romance; she just wants someone to talk to occasionally.

Later, he met Wayne.

During her first confession, she rambled on and on, spouting nonsense about stealing fruit from the neighbor's house as a child and being jealous of her cousin's good marriage when she was young. It was all made up; she just wanted to sit a little longer. When Wayne's hand touched hers, she went limp.

It's not that kind of soft.

It was that feeling of finally someone catching her.

She went every month after that.

Say the same nonsense, and get the same comforting words.

Three years.

She didn't ask for much, just a short while, for someone to hold her hand and listen to her talk.

"Madam," Wayne's voice was soft, "as a clergyman, I have a duty to help believers resolve their physical and mental suffering. The church has methods to address insomnia."

The lady raised her head.

Wayne looked at her, his gaze calm.

Would you like to give it a try?

The lady remained silent for two seconds.

"……willing."

Wayne stood up and walked over to her.

The lady sat in the soft chair, looking up at him.

His hand covered hers, his palm pressed against her forehead.

"Close your eyes."

The lady closed her eyes.

The warm touch lingered, until finally…

Magic was soothing her.

The Viscountess suddenly opened her eyes.

His face turned bright red.

She looked at Wayne, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything. The look in her eyes was more complex than during any other confession she had ever given.

Just a moment ago, she acted as usual...

Wayne withdrew his hand.

The Viscountess sat in the soft chair, her chest rising and falling slightly, her face still flushed. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

The door was suddenly pushed open.

"Auntie! The snacks are here!"

Lillian hopped in carrying a plate piled high with golden, steaming almond cookies. She looked up and stopped in her tracks.

"what?"

She looked at Wayne, then at her aunt.

"Auntie, why is your face so red?"

The Viscountess raised her hand to tidy her hair.

It's hot inside.

Wayne looked at her.

"Is there anything else, Madam?"

The Viscountess remained silent for two seconds.

"...That's all."

Wayne nodded.

"Then I'll take my leave."

He turned and walked out.

As I reached the door, I heard the lady's voice behind me.

"Wien".

Wayne stopped.

"Take care of yourself when you get there."

Wayne didn't turn around.

"Yes."

The door closed gently.

Lillian stood at the corner of the corridor, holding a plate of pastries, watching Wayne's figure disappear at the top of the stairs. She tilted her head and took a bite of the almond tart.

"strangeness……"