Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne released his grip.

The scratches on her arm had completely healed, and the new skin was slightly lighter than the surrounding skin, tinged with a faint pink in the firelight. Lillian looked down at her arm, examining it several times over.

Then she looked up at Wayne.

wink.

He blinked again.

"that's all?"

Wayne looked at her.

"Otherwise what?"

Lillian opened her mouth, her expression a little complicated. She withdrew her arm, looked at it again to make sure the wound was really healed, and then looked up at Wayne.

"It's just a very ordinary treatment."

She muttered to herself.

"Why is it completely different from what my aunt said?"

Wayne didn't say anything.

Lillian was still muttering to herself, "My aunt said your water magic is incredibly powerful and that I absolutely have to try it out sometime. I thought..."

She paused, then didn't continue.

Mayfair stood by, watching this scene unfold.

She took a step forward.

"Lillian".

Lillian looked at her.

"How are you feeling?"

Lillian thought for a moment and answered truthfully.

"I feel great, the treatment is working well. The wound is completely healed, and there's not a single scar left."

Mayfair was silent for a moment, her gaze lingering on Lillian's face for a second before turning to Wayne.

Wayne met her gaze.

"Sister Mayfair would like to try too?"

Mayfair paused.

"……May I?"

Wayne extended his hand.

Mayfair walked over and stopped in front of him. She hesitated for a moment, then extended her hand and placed it in Wayne's palm.

Wayne grasped it.

The water element begins to circulate.

She looked down at her hands, as if something was seeping into her skin and slowly spreading throughout her body.

Wayne released his grip.

Mayfair stood still, without moving.

"How are you feeling?" Lillian asked, leaning closer.

Mayfair looked up.

"……fine."

Her voice was flat.

Lillian blinked: "What do you mean by 'okay'?"

Mayfair did not answer.

She turned around and walked towards the edge of the camp.

"I'll go on the inspection," she said.

Her steps were neither fast nor slow, her black nun's habit fluttering gently in the night breeze. She walked steadily, each step firm, her back ramrod straight, showing no sign of anything amiss.

Lillian watched her retreating figure and tilted her head.

"strangeness."

Emma poked her head out from beside the fire.

"What's strange?"

Lillian glanced back at her, then turned back to look at Mayfair. The dark figure had already walked a dozen steps and disappeared into the shadows behind the tent.

"It's nothing."

Lillian shrugged and sat back down by the fire.

Mayfair walked around the tent and stood at the edge of the camp.

It was quiet all around, with only the sound of the wind rustling through the treetops and the occasional chirping of insects in the distance. She stood straight, her back to the camp, facing the darkness.

Then she raised her hand and touched her earlobe.

It was hot and red.

The night was dark, and no one could see it.

But she knew it herself.

Starting from her ears, the burning sensation traveled down her cheeks and neck. She stood there with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling slightly.

At that moment, she almost screamed.

Sigh, I have to change my clothes again; I'm still quite dusty from walking all this way.

The camp woke up early the next morning, just as dawn was breaking.

Emma was the first to emerge from the tent, rubbing her eyes as she looked for Wayne. Seeing him sitting by the fire, she immediately ran over and plopped down next to him.

Good morning, Master.

Wayne nodded.

"morning."

Ella came out second, followed by Vera and Lillian. Lillian was yawning, her hair was a mess, and she was walking unsteadily.

Mayfair was the last to come out.

She walked over to the fire and sat down next to Vera.

His gaze swept across Wayne's face.

soon.

It seemed like it happened unintentionally.

Then she lowered her head and took the dry rations Vera offered.

"Sister Mayfair," Emma leaned closer, "did you sleep well last night?"

Mayfair paused.

"……fine."

Emma blinked.

"Really? Your face looks a little red."

Mayfair didn't say anything.

After breakfast, everyone packed up the campsite and prepared to continue their journey. Old Roger hitched up the wagon, Marco led the horses, and several girls climbed into the wagon.

Wayne stood by the car and looked at the smoke rising in the distance.

The direction of Blackstone Village.

He looked away and got into the carriage.

"Let's go."

The carriage traveled along the official road, continuing northward.

Two days is neither a long nor a short time.

The carriage has already left the territory of Audrien.

Entering the northern part of Frostmaple County.

The scenery along the official road gradually changed. Before, farmland and villages could still be seen around Audrien, but here, only vast stretches of wasteland and scattered withered trees remained. The sky was overcast, and the wind was considerably colder than it had been two days prior.

Nothing happened along the way.

We didn't encounter any monsters or refugees, and the weather was pretty good, except for a few light drizzles on the afternoon of the second day, which were blocked by the carriage curtain.

Inside the carriage, the girls had become very familiar with each other.

Ella and Emma huddled together in the back, each slowly munching on a piece of dried meat. Lillian remained curled up in the pile of blankets, her red cloak covering her chin, revealing only her messy head.

Vera sat next to Mayfair, needle and thread in her hand, mending the sleeve of a nun's habit. Her hands were skillful; the stitches she made were fine and neat, far superior to Ella and Emma's hands, which were only good for pricking their fingers.

Mayfair sat in the corner, still silent.

But some things are changing.

For example, her face.

That face, which used to look so old-fashioned, has started to change these past couple of days. Not all at once, but gradually. The wrinkles have become less pronounced, the skin tone is brighter, the cheekbones aren't as prominent, and the eye sockets aren't as deep.

This morning, Emma stared at her for a long time, then suddenly said, "Sister Mayfair, you seem to have become more beautiful."

Mayfair didn't say anything.

But the tips of her ears turned slightly red.

Emma didn't notice and went over to whisper to Lillian again. Mayfair lowered her eyes and unconsciously touched her cuff.

She hadn't forgotten what happened that night.

How could I forget?

Having lived for twenty-six years, she had never experienced that feeling before. It was as if something was surging from the deepest part of her body; she almost screamed out, only managing to hold it back by biting her lip tightly.

After returning to the tent, she sat alone for a long time.

Then she did something.

I took off my clothes and changed into something clean.

She crumpled up the clothes she had changed out of and stuffed them into the bottom of her backpack so no one would see them.

The next morning, she looked at herself in the bronze mirror for a long time.

Then she started changing her makeup.

It wasn't intentional; her hand just wouldn't obey her. As she painted, the wrinkles faded, and her complexion brightened. By the time she realized it, her face looked several years younger than the day before.

She put down her pen and stared at herself in the mirror.

After a while, she placed the bronze mirror face down on the table.

She didn't know what was wrong with her.

How old is he? At least that's how others see him. How can he lose sleep all night over a single handshake?

It seems that she herself is changing.