Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Just then, the two little ones asked curiously.

"Master, why don't you treat her now?"

Emma leaned against the back of the bench, her bright black eyes fixed on Wayne. Ella sat beside her, silent, but her eyes held the same question.

Wayne looked at them.

"The time is not yet ripe."

Emma blinked.

"Why isn't it time yet?"

Wayne did not answer immediately.

He walked to the podium, put the dragon blood vine into the drawer, his movements unhurried. Several girls followed his gaze, waiting for him to speak.

"To heal her, we need guidance," Wayne said.

"Guidance?" Emma tilted her head. "Guidance what?"

Wien paused.

This is a difficult question to explain.

The witch, suffering from a backlash of magic, had stagnant power accumulated within her, like a pool of still water. To awaken her, water magic was needed to clear away the stagnation and bring the stagnant water back to life.

The problem is, his water magic sometimes doesn't work.

During the guidance, water elements will flow within her body. If Wendy has any feelings for him, the water elements will sense it, and then…

Then it will be like Mayfair that night.

Or like Tilulu this morning.

Or like the women who came to repent in the past three years.

If we treat it now, in front of so many people, what if the water element leaks out? The scene would be...

It's hard to explain.

It's very difficult to explain.

Especially the recently departed old Hunter.

How will he explain this to the grandfather?

"Treat her," Wayne said, "without disturbing her."

Emma suddenly realized.

"Oh~ So it's safer when there are fewer people?"

Wayne nodded.

"right."

Emma grinned.

"Our master is so thoughtful!"

Ella whispered beside her.

"So, do we need to go outside then?"

Wayne looked at her.

"It's best to go outside."

Ella nodded and took notes carefully.

Emma raised her hand.

"Master, I can help watch the door! I promise no one will disturb us!"

Wayne's lips curled up slightly.

"it is good."

Just then, Lillian, who was unusually quiet, stood up from her chair and stretched.

"I'm so bored."

She turned to Wayne, her brown eyes blinking.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm going out for a walk."

Wayne looked at her.

"Where to?"

Lillian thought for a moment.

"Just wander around. There's nothing else to do in the church anyway."

Wayne was silent for a moment.

The panel popped up.

Name: Lillian

Current Status: About to Depart

[True Purpose: To find the Witch Cult]

[Background Information: Before her departure, her aunt told her a secret: there was a hidden witch cult stronghold in Frost Town. This cult had been operating there for many years, wielding considerable power and controlling almost half of Frost Town's armed forces. The mayor and several prominent figures in the merchant guild were secretly cooperating with the cult.]

[Note: She didn't tell you all this because she didn't want to implicate you. In her eyes, you are a priest, and she is a witch; you belong to two different worlds. Your taking her in was already a tremendous favor; she couldn't drag you into the cult's affairs.]

Wayne looked at Lillian.

Lillian felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

"W-What's wrong?"

Wayne didn't say anything.

After a few breaths, he spoke.

Go early and come back early.

Lillian paused for a moment, then grinned.

"Okay!"

She turned and walked out, her red cloak billowing in the wind, her steps as light as a bird released from its cage.

Emma called from behind.

"Sister Lillian! Come back soon!"

Lillian waved without turning her head.

The door closed.

The church fell silent.

Wayne stood there, staring at the closed door.

The Witch Cult.

Half the power of Frosttown.

interesting.

The streets of Frost Town were bustling with activity at this time.

Lillian walked down the street, her red cloak drawing attention and attracting many glances. But she didn't care, looking around as she walked on, as if searching for something.

She didn't know where the cult's stronghold was.

My aunt only said "on the mountain," without specifying the exact location.

But she had a way.

There is a special connection between witches. It's not the kind of connection that's deliberately created through magic; it's an instinctive connection. Just like how witches of the same kind can smell each other, they don't need their eyes, they only need their senses.

She slowed her pace, closed her eyes, and felt the atmosphere around her.

Ordinary people.

Ordinary people.

Ordinary people.

Adventurer.

Ordinary people.

then……

Got it!

It was faint, but definitely the scent of a witch. It was coming from the direction of the mountain, near the old residential area at the summit.

Lillian opened her eyes and a smile appeared on her lips.

She quickened her pace and headed up the mountain.

The roads on the mountain are quieter than those at the foot of the mountain.

The houses on both sides were obviously better, some even had courtyards, and carriages were parked in front of them. Occasionally, someone would pass by and glance at her, their gaze lingering on her face and cloak for a moment.

Just then, a clear-sounding little bird flew away from the branch, passed through layers of eaves, and landed in front of a window in that old residential area.

Through the window was an elegantly furnished living room, with a roaring fireplace that exuded warmth, a stark contrast to the chill outside.

A young witch with a mushroom-shaped haircut pushed open the door to the reception room and strode in. She bowed to the woman seated in the main seat.

"Big sister, that red-haired witch is coming this way."

The woman in the main seat raised her eyes.

Her long purple hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a languid smile played on her lips. She looked to be in her early thirties, with little sign of age on her face.

Christina.

The head of the Frosttown branch of the Witch Cult.

The only third-tier witch in Frost Town.

"Oh?" She put down her teacup, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Quite a perceptive little fellow."

Emily, who was sitting to the side, spoke up.

"Big sister, should we stop her?"

The mushroom-headed witch was also waiting for instructions.

Christina leaned back in her chair, a hint of a smile flashing in her purple eyes: "No need to stop us."

She paused.

"Have someone bring her in!"

In the corner, Tilulu frowned.

"Big sister, isn't this inappropriate?"

She was still wearing Wayne's black monk's robe, draped over her shoulders; she hadn't fully recovered since returning in the morning.

Christina glanced at her.

"Tiruru, what's wrong with you today?"

Tilulu lowered her head.

"I……"

She didn't know how to explain it.

Is there something wrong with that bishop's magic?

He claims his own shrouded domain has been infiltrated by him?

Did she say she was blanched in front of him?

It's so embarrassing to say these things.

Emily gently touched Tilulu's hand and whispered, "Sister Lulu, don't worry too much. Big Sister is very sensible."

Tilulu didn't say anything.

Christina's gaze shifted from her face back to the direction of the doorway. Those purple eyes held a calm confidence, as if everything was under control.

"Let her come."

She picked up her teacup and took a sip.

"If I don't want them to leave, none of them will ever leave Frosttown."