Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Around noon.

Wilford personally brought Leon out.

They came out through the back door, not through the front street.

The guards followed Leon on either side, his wrists were tied with hemp rope, and he looked terrible, as if he hadn't slept well.

Wilford walked ahead; he hadn't slept well either, not out of guilt, but out of excitement. That kind of excitement after figuring something out was more invigorating than drinking ten bowls of ginseng soup. He felt he had made an incredibly wise decision last night.

Ace followed behind, his eyes fixed on the back of Leon's head. His lips moved several times, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back.

It takes only a quarter of an hour to walk from the mayor’s residence to the church, but today the journey was unusually slow.

It's not because the path is difficult to walk, it's because there are too many people.

The news was leaked from someone's mouth.

The road down the mountain was blocked by crowds.

The vegetable vendors put down their baskets, the blacksmiths turned off their furnaces, and even the girls from Cuiying Street who usually slept during the day came out wearing their outer robes.

Crowds surged in from both sides of the street, growing larger and larger.

"Is it him?"

"Yes, that's him, the one who came to arrest Bishop Wayne."

"From the capital?"

"People from the Papacy."

"The Vatican? What does the Vatican have to do with Frosttown? What did Bishop Wayne do to them?"

No one answered this question.

But the answer was written on everyone's face.

After Bishop Wayne arrived, Frosttown changed. The church opened its doors, the potions were redeemed, and even the mayor's embarrassing incident of being stuck in a brothel window was covered up by Bishop Wayne with a story of demonic possession.

The Vatican wants to arrest people like this?

On what grounds?

Leon walked forward with his head down, feeling the gazes piercing him like needles. It wasn't curiosity, it wasn't scrutiny, it was anger. A silent, suppressed anger, ready to explode at any moment.

He had been a paladin, traveled to many places, and seen many people look at him with awe, worship, flattery, and fear. Never before had so many people looked at him with the same kind of gaze as today.

That's the look you give an enemy.

He thought he was doing justice.

But these people don't see it that way.

In their eyes, he was the bad guy.

"stop."

A voice boomed from the crowd.

Leon stopped in his tracks.

An old woman with a cane walked out of the crowd and stood in the middle of the road, blocking the way.

"You're here to arrest Bishop Wayne? How could you be so wicked?"

Leon didn't say anything.

The old woman's cane thumped on the ground.

"I'm seventy-two this year, and in all my years, I've hardly met any good people. Bishop Wayne is one of them. He treated my grandson's leg without charging me a single copper coin. He distributed medicine to the townspeople, ten copper coins a bowl. What do you think he was after? Money? What can you buy with ten copper coins? Fame? How long has he been in Frost Town?"

She paused.

"On what grounds does your Vatican have to send people to arrest him?"

The old woman's voice was filled with righteous indignation.

The buzzing from the crowd grew louder.

"On what grounds?"

The crowd began to stir.

"Kill him!"

"Kill him!"

……

Wilford raised his hand and pressed it down.

The noise from the crowd subsided somewhat, but it wasn't completely quiet.

"Gentlemen," Wilford's voice wasn't loud, but as mayor for so many years, his words carried weight, "Sir Leon, I brought him out to see Bishop Wayne. How to handle him is up to Bishop Wayne to decide."

The commotion in the crowd gradually subsided.

But some people were still muttering to themselves.

"Give it to Bishop Wayne? Is that feasible? What if Bishop Wayne takes a soft heart?"

"Exactly, Bishop Wayne is nice to everyone. What if he releases them?"

"We can't let him go! We can't let this kind of person go!"

Wilford ignored him.

He turned around and gestured for the guards to continue walking.

How could he let someone die here?

If Leon could truly bear a child for Ace, even if he couldn't conceive, as long as he could, the Wilford bloodline could continue. After learning his son's true nature, this was his last hope of holding a grandchild.

Ace has accepted that he likes men. He had similar impulses when he was younger, but no one dared to say it back then, so he just kept it to himself and it passed.

It's different now.

Ace doesn't need to hold it in.

But the bloodline must not be severed.

The Wilford family has been rooted in Frostshire for three generations, starting with his grandfather, rising from a lowly soldier to where they are today. Wilford cannot let this family name die out in his hands.

Ace walked behind Leon, his eyes fixed on the back of Leon's head. Wilford took in everything he saw in those eyes. It was the look he had given Lulu when he was young, with a naive "I'd do anything for you" kind of look.

Wilford turned his gaze back.

If he could do it all over again, he would definitely create a new account.

Start from childhood.

Cultivate from a young age.

All our experience, lessons learned, connections, and resources were poured into this alternate account. We made him study, practice martial arts, and learn how to be a person, so he wouldn't end up like Ace, who was over twenty and still didn't know what he wanted.

But he didn't have a trumpet.

He only has Ace.

Just like Lulu said, he's all show and no substance, all looks and no action. He no longer has the ability to create alternate accounts.

We've arrived at the church.

Wayne stood at the church entrance.

He held a scroll in his hand, his posture upright and his expression calm, as if he had known all along that someone would come today, and he also knew who it was.

Wells greeted them at the church entrance.

"Bishop Wayne..."

"The goddess has already told me everything."

Wells' words stuck in his throat.

Wayne stepped aside and gestured for him to proceed.

"Come in and speak."

The group entered the church.

Wayne sat down in the chair at the very front.

He gestured for them to sit down as well.

Leon stood in the middle, the ropes on his wrists already untied, but the guards were still standing behind him, not moving away.

Wayne looked at Leon.

"Leon, right?"

Leon nodded.

"Do you know why you've come to this point today?" Wayne's voice wasn't loud, but everyone present could hear it clearly.

Leon didn't say anything.

"Because you have been going against the goddess's wishes all along."

Leon's lips moved slightly.

He wanted to argue. He was a paladin, trained from childhood, praying daily, confessing weekly, and making pilgrimages annually. He was closer to the goddess than anyone else, and more disciplined than anyone else. But Wayne said they had defied the goddess's will.

"Your journey was destined to be fraught with difficulty from the day you left Audrian." Wayne turned a page of the scroll, his gaze shifting to Leon's face. "First, you encountered human traffickers. Shurasa, didn't she?"

Leon's pupils contracted sharply.

Xiulasa.

He had never told anyone this name.

Even his closest friend Ace didn't know.

"How...how did you know?" Leon's voice was strained.

Wayne aimlessly turned another page of the scripture.

"The goddess told me."

"As for what happened to you in the camp..." Wayne looked at Leon, "the goddess also told me."

Leon's breath hitched.