Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wilford was carried into the churchyard.

The sun was already high in the sky.

Derek and his son carried the straw mat, one in front of the other, all the way from the square, sweating profusely. Wilford lay on the mat, his hands folded over his lower abdomen, his posture as dignified as if he were lying in a coffin. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady; it was unclear whether he was truly dizzy or faking it.

The two little ones peeked out from the kitchen.

Emma had half a loaf of bread in her mouth, and when she saw the person on the straw mat, the bread fell out of her mouth.

"Master, this is..."

"An elf," Wayne said.

Emma's eyes widened.

"An elf?"

"Yeah, he was invisible." Wayne walked past the straw mat. "Now the invisibility has worn off, and he's back to his original form."

Emma crouched down and tilted her head to examine Wilford's face.

"He doesn't look like an elf. Aren't elves all pointed-eared? His ears are round."

Wayne paused for a moment.

"It might be... a mutated variety."

Emma's eyebrows furrowed, and her pale red eyes darted around, as if she were seriously considering the feasibility of the "mutant elf" species. Ella stood beside her and tugged at her sleeve.

"Stop looking."

Why?

"Because...because..." Ella stammered for a while, her gaze falling on Wilford's slightly swollen face, "I think he looks a bit like the mayor."

Emma tilted her head and glanced at it again.

"Now that you mention it...it does seem a bit like that."

Wayne didn't reply, but instructed Derek to carry Wilford to the empty room in the backyard. It was a storage room, usually unused, with a few old chairs and a table with a missing leg piled in the corner. Derek placed the straw mat on the ground, took two steps back, and rubbed his hands together.

"Your Excellency, shall I... take my leave now?"

"Um."

Derek grabbed his son, turned and walked away, his steps so fast it was as if a ghost was chasing him. His son took a couple of steps, then turned back, his gaze lingering on Wilford for a moment, his expression complex.

"Father."

"Walk!"

"I...I think I really did lick it..."

"Walk!"

Derek grabbed his son by the back of his collar.

He dragged the man out of the church.

The backyard fell silent.

Wilford was still lying on the straw mat, his posture unchanged, his breathing unchanged, but his eyelids were trembling. Wayne squatted down and reached out to feel his forehead.

"Open your eyes if you're awake."

Wilford's eyelids twitched, and he opened them a crack, his pupils slowly focusing as he saw Wayne's face.

"Your Majesty Bishop..."

"Um."

"How...how did I get here?"

"do not you remember?"

Wilford's eyes were vacant.

"I..." He opened his mouth, "I remember Lulu... and then the town elf... I don't remember."

"Just forget about the rest."

Wilford paused for a moment.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Wayne stood up. "You should get some rest. Your family will come to pick you up later."

After Wayne left, Wilford tried to recall.

Last night I was with Lulu, and she was especially enthusiastic today. Her technique was different, like she was a completely different person. He remembers feeling very comfortable, remembers calling out "Mommy" many times, remembers crying once or twice, and then... he remembers nothing at all.

When I woke up again, I was lying in the square, my mouth stuffed with a rag, and my feet were being held in someone's hands...

What happened in between?

He really couldn't remember.

Wayne walked out of the storage room and gently closed the door behind him.

The panel popped up at this point.

[Frost Town - Central Square - Follow-up Public Opinion]

[Rumor 1: The bishop has hidden the elves; he's definitely going to keep them all for himself. Spread around: the area around the pancake stall. Believers: 30%.]

[Rumor 2: That "elf" wasn't an elf at all; it was a miracle conjured by the bishop, which the hunter picked up. The bishop bought it to destroy evidence. Scope of spread: Green Oriole Street. Believers' percentage: 50%.]

[Rumor 3: Regardless of whether it's an elf or not, I licked it, and my old leg pain is gone today. Scope of spread: The entire town. Percentage of believers: 70%.]

[Note: Someone is bragging. The bragging isn't about "I licked the elf's foot," but rather "When I licked it, it was still invisible; when you licked it, it was already visible." This sense of superiority allowed him to win at the poker table all afternoon, not because of his skill, but because nobody wanted to sit at the same table with him.]

[Note 2: Someone was seriously researching a question. If that "spirit" wasn't a spirit, then what was it? They researched it all morning without reaching a conclusion. Finally, they gave up, concluding: Who cares what it is, as long as it can cure illness.]

[Additionally: Wilford's current state of mind. He is incredibly grateful to you. He only remembers being happy with Lulu last night, and then nothing more. He doesn't know what happened in between, what happened in the graveyard, or how he ended up in the bushes. He only knows that every time he wakes up, you are by his side. This gives him the illusion that the goddess hasn't abandoned him, that she sent you to protect him.]

After looking at the panel, Wayne remained silent for a moment.

He turned around and glanced at the closed door of the storage room.

Did the goddess send him to protect Wilford?

Does the goddess know what he did at the graveyard last night?

Forget it.

The goddess knows everything.

But the goddess chose to remain silent.

That is tacit approval.

Six Holy Knights Inspection Report

Kant border, valley camp.

Shurasa and the others haven't left the cabin for three days.

Lance sat on the steps in front of the cabin, his hands on his knees, head down, looking at his reflection in the mud.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Gregory walked over and sat down next to him. As soon as his butt touched the step, he hissed and shifted his weight to the left.

"I can't sit," he said. "It's still swollen."

Lance didn't say anything.

Gregory took a piece of dry ration from his pocket, broke it in half, and handed one half to Lance. Lance took it, took a bite, and chewed for a long time before swallowing.

"Boss."

"Um."

"This can't go on."

Lance paused for a moment.

"What are you trying to say?"

Gregory squeezed the half-eaten ration in his hand again and again, crumbs falling through his fingers.

I said, "Let's go."

Lance turned to look at him.

"Go? Where to?"

“Anywhere is fine,” Gregory said in a low voice. “Back to Wiggins, to the North Continent, over the mountains to the other side of Kant, anywhere. Just get out of here.”

Lance took a bite of his dry rations.

He chewed for a long time before swallowing.

"There's no way out."

Why?

"The contract." Lance clenched the remaining half of his dry rations tightly. "The demon contract is signed. You'll carry that mark wherever you go. You think it'll be over once you cross the mountain? You think it'll be over once you get back to Wiggins? That thing will be with you for life."

Gregory remained silent.

He knew Lance was right. A demonic contract wasn't just a piece of paper, something you could just say and forget. It was a mark etched into your soul, indelible no matter where you went.

"What do we do then?" Gregory's voice was as dry as sandpaper. "Just let it drag on like this? There are thirteen of them, and only six of us. You know the relationship between a field and an ox. The more you plow, the more fertile the field becomes, while the more you plow, the thinner the ox gets. If this continues..."

"I know," Lance interrupted him.

Of course he knew.

It's been three days.

For three days, they did not leave the wooden house.

It could be said that they killed eight hundred enemies but injured a thousand of their own.

Shurasa is out.

No, it's not Xiulasa.

When the door opened from the inside, Lance first saw a foot. Bare, toes painted with dark red nail polish, resting on the threshold of the wooden house. Then came the leg, long and white as if it had never been tanned, the slit of its skirt peeking out from underneath.

It's Hena!

She possessed Shurasha's body!

"Now that you have completed your revenge, it's time to fulfill my contract..."