Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Derek immediately knelt down.

His knee slammed onto the stone pavement with a dull thud. His hands were on the ground, his forehead almost touching the earth, and he looked like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on.

"Your Excellency! Please save me! You must save me!"

Wayne looked down at him.

"You believe me?"

Derek looked up, his eyes filled with anxiety.

"I believe you! I believe you! I'll believe whatever you say!"

"Hand him over to me."

Derek paused for a moment.

"That's...that's it?"

"That's it."

Derek opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

He thought Wayne would make him pay money, make him kneel down and beg for forgiveness at the mayor's house, and make him announce in public, "I licked the mayor, not the elf."

The result is simply handing over the person?

"Your Excellency, those...those copper coins..."

"No need to return it."

Derek breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped his sweat, got up from the ground, and staggered toward the square.

Thomason stood to the side, holding a water bottle, his face still green. He had just rinsed his mouth twice, and the smell of lard still lingered in his breath.

"grown ups."

"Um."

"I also spent two copper coins this morning."

Wayne glanced at him.

"The goddess will bless you."

Thomason's face turned even greener.

When the three returned to the square.

The situation is completely out of control.

Derek was a different story when he left, and even more outrageous when he returned. The line of people licking his feet stretched from the wooden stake to the pancake stand, then around a corner and extended all the way to the east side of the square.

An old woman, leaning on a cane, stood in line for half an hour, her steps faltering. She had just knelt down and hadn't even opened her mouth when she was pushed aside by the people behind her.

"Make way, make way, I was here first!"

"You got here first? I arrived before dawn!"

"Quiet down, all of you! I paid four copper coins; that's enough for two licks!"

The buzzing of the crowd was louder than that of a morning vegetable market.

The most outrageous thing wasn't the people in line.

It's Derek's son.

He was fifteen or sixteen years old, dark-skinned and thin, wearing a jacket three sizes too big, with the sleeves rolled up several times. He was kneeling in front of the wooden stake, holding his "elf feet" that had already reached his knees in his hands, his mouth open, his tongue sticking out long, ready to bite.

Derek rushed forward and swung his arm around.

Snapped!

He slapped his son on the back of the head, the sound as crisp as a firecracker during Chinese New Year. The boy fell forward, his forehead hitting the wooden stake, and he almost lost his grip on his feet.

"Ouch!"

He covered the back of his head and turned around. When he saw it was his father, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Father! Why did you hit me?"

"Hit you? I'll kick you instead!" Derek raised his foot and kicked his son in the butt, sending the boy sprawling face-first into the mud.

"Father! You've gone mad!"

"You're the crazy one!" Derek crouched down, his voice low and forced through clenched teeth, "Untie me!"

"Why should I?" His son scrambled to his feet, rubbing his bottom, his face full of indignation. "We found this! Why should we untie it?"

Derek used both hands.

Snapped!Snapped!

Two more slaps.

"Why should I? Because I still want to live, since it's your father's name!"

As he spoke, Derek leaned close to his son's ear.

"The person tied up above is the town mayor. If you don't untie him now, he'll be the first to chop your head off!"

His son's eyes were wide open like saucers.

"Town...town mayor?" he asked in a very soft voice.

"Yes! Mayor!" Derek's voice lowered even further, "You've been licking for ages, but you've been licking the mayor's feet!"

The boy looked down at the pair of fair feet in his hands, then looked up at his father, then looked down at the feet again.

"vomit……"

He vomited.

He spat out every last drop of the multigrain porridge he ate this morning onto those "elf feet".

Wilford's toes twitched.

Derek, ignoring his nausea, frantically tried to untie the rope. It was tightly bound, a knot so tight he had to dig until his fingernails broke to create a small opening. His son squatted beside him, still dry heaving after vomiting, his face as white as paper.

"Stop throwing up! Come help!"

"My...my legs are weak..."

"You motherfucker! Come here!"

The father and son frantically tried to untie the rope for a long time, and finally it came loose. Wilford's hands slid down from behind his back, his mouth still stuffed with the rag, and the smell of lard seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Derek stretched his hand halfway out, then pulled it back.

"Your Excellency, this... please do it."

Wayne crouched down and pulled the rag out of Wilford's mouth.

The moment the rag was pulled out, Wilford's mouth opened slightly, his throat as dry as sandpaper.

His eyes were half-open, and his pupils were unfocused.

Wayne leaned close to his ear and whispered.

"If you were the mayor, nod."

Wilford's eyes twitched.

He recognized the voice.

It wasn't Derek the Hunter, nor those lunatics licking his feet; it was Wayne. The bishop of Frosttown Church, the man who had just rescued him from a brothel window yesterday.

His eyes reddened.

Then he nodded.

"Don't speak, leave it to me."

Wilford closed his eyes, swallowing back the "help" that was on the tip of his tongue. Wayne stood up, turned around, and faced the group of people still queuing in the square.

"Everyone, I'm buying this sprite."

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Then it exploded.

"Did Your Excellency buy it?"

"So what do we do?"

"I waited in line for half an hour!"

"I paid four copper coins! Enough for two licks!"

Wayne raised his hand and pressed it down.

The noise from the crowd subsided somewhat, but it wasn't completely quiet. Whispers buzzed in your ears like mosquitoes in summer.

"This elf's invisibility ability is waning," Wayne said. "You saw it just now, starting from its feet, and now it's visible up to its ankles. If so many people take turns using it, its activity will completely disappear, and it won't even be able to remain invisible, let alone protect you."

The buzzing from the crowd grew louder.

"What should we do then?"

"I haven't even licked it yet!"

"I paid!"

Wayne waited for them to argue for a while before speaking again.

"When I get back, I'll use the materials from this elf to make a batch of potions. These elf potions will protect the whole family. I'll then distribute them to the people in town."

"real?"

"Does Your Excellency keep your word?"

When can I collect it?

Wayne nodded.

"Come to the church to collect it in three days."

The commotion in the crowd finally subsided.

Although some people were still muttering under their breath, most had already begun to disperse. Some people looked back as they left, their gazes lingering on their already broken feet, their expressions filled with an indescribable regret.

Derek was standing next to him, his forehead still damp with sweat.

His son was squatting on the ground, his face still green.

Wayne glanced at Derek.

"Carry him to the church."

"Carry...carry it to the church?"

"Hmm. It doesn't suit this place."

Derek opened his mouth as if to say something, but after glancing at Wayne's expression, he swallowed his words. He turned around and kicked his son in the backside.

"Get up! Lift him!"

"Carry...carry whom?"

"Carry your father away!"

Derek's son actually went and carried his father.

Derek slapped him again.

"Carry this esteemed elf!"