Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Lillian arrived at the mansion gate quickly.

She was looking up at the old house in front of her.

The interior appeared quite spacious, with grayish-white stone walls and tightly closed windows, obscuring the view of what lay inside. A wooden plaque hung by the entrance, blank except for a strange engraving, resembling some kind of symbol.

She tilted her head and looked at it for a while, hesitating whether to knock on the door.

The door opened suddenly.

A face peeked out from under the door.

He had a mushroom haircut, round-framed glasses, and looked about fifteen or sixteen years old; he was quite cute.

Lillian blinked and smiled.

"Hello, little sister! Is this the Witch Cult's base?"

Dora was speechless for a moment, and couldn't help but mutter to herself.

"This woman looks a bit silly."

She paused for two seconds, then opened the door.

She moved aside.

"Come in, the boss has been waiting for you."

Lillian let out a soft "Huh?"

"Did you know I was coming?"

Dora didn't answer, she just walked inside.

Lillian followed, through the foyer, down a short corridor, and was finally led into an elegantly furnished drawing room.

The fireplace was burning brightly.

It was warm and cozy.

A woman sat in the main seat, with long purple hair falling over her shoulders and a very delicate face; she was clearly a mature and beautiful woman.

Christina raised her eyes and looked Lillian up and down.

From top to bottom.

From face to toe.

Then the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

"Child," she began, her voice languid and pleasant, "tell me, what's your name, and who guided you here?"

Lillian stood before her, not nervous at all, but smiling brightly: "My name is Lillian! My aunt guided me here!"

"What's your aunt's name?"

"Naya von Adrian".

Christina's eyes twitched slightly.

She paused for a moment.

"...Audrian's wife?"

Lillian nodded.

"Yes, you know my aunt?"

Christina did not answer directly.

Her gaze fell on Lillian's face, as if she were looking at something familiar. After a few moments, she spoke.

"Was your maternal grandmother named Gianna Agatha?"

Lillian paused for a moment, then nodded frantically.

"Yes, yes, yes! How did you know?!"

Christina did not answer.

She lowered her eyes, looking at the teacup in her hand, her lips moved, and she silently uttered that name.

Gianna Agatha.

Thirty years ago, this name was quite remarkable.

The Witch of the Wasteland.

A fourth-tier witch, just one step away from reaching the fifth tier. Alone, with only a staff, she wandered the northern wastelands for ten years. The monsters she slew piled up like mountains, and the number of villains she killed was countless. The Holy See offered a bounty on her head, which rose from one thousand to ten thousand, and finally to fifty thousand, but no one dared to take it.

She later disappeared.

Some said she died, some said she went into seclusion, and some said she went to another country. There were many different opinions, but in the end, nothing was confirmed.

Christina put down her teacup and looked up.

"Child, what are you doing here?"

Lillian stood in front of her, smiling brightly.

"I want to join the Witch Cult!"

There was a moment of silence in the reception room.

Christina looked at the carefree red-haired girl in front of her and a slight smile appeared on her lips.

"Join the cult?"

Lillian nodded.

"right!"

Why?

Lillian thought for a moment.

"Because I'm a witch, of course I should be with other witches."

Christina looked at her.

"Just this reason?"

"Isn't that reason enough?"

Christina was silent for two seconds.

"Do you know what the cult does?"

Lillian shook her head.

"have no idea."

"So you're going to join?"

"Yes."

Christina couldn't help but laugh.

She has a beautiful smile; her purple eyes curve into crescents, and her delicate face carries a hint of helplessness and a touch of doting affection.

Gianna's granddaughter.

They're adorably silly.

"Child," Christina began, "you need to pass an exam to join the Witch Cult."

Lillian's eyes lit up.

"What kind of assessment?"

Christina leaned back in her chair, her purple eyes sweeping over her.

"Take off your clothes first."

Lillian paused for a moment.

"what?"

Christina didn't speak, she just looked at her.

Emily spoke up from the side.

"Take it off when I tell you to. It's a hurdle every witch has to overcome before joining; everyone here has done it." She paused. "Of course, you won't be an exception."

Lillian blinked.

She looked down at her clothes, then looked up at the women in front of her. Her face showed no fear, only a hint of curiosity.

"Take off your clothes?"

"Get rid of your single status."

Lillian thought for a moment.

"Why take your clothes off?"

Christina spoke up.

"A witch's body bears many marks: old wounds, new wounds, magical imprints, lingering curses. How can you know who you are or what you've been through without seeing it for yourself?"

Lillian nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

"Oh……"

She raised her hand and began to unbutton her clothes.

The red cloak fell to the ground.

The skirt fell to the ground.

The contents fell to the ground.

……

It must be said that Lillian has an excellent figure.

She had deep collarbones, a slender waist, and a full chest that could just fill the palm of her hand. Her legs were long and straight, and she stood ramrod straight without the slightest hint of shyness.

Emily swallowed hard.

Tilulu was also watching intently.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly and was very warm, but she still couldn't help but shiver.

It's not cold.

It's tension.

The room was quiet.

Several women's eyes fell on her.

Lillian stood there, unsure what to do with her hands. In her nineteen years of life, she had never felt like this in front of so many people.

Christina leaned back in her chair, her purple eyes slowly sweeping over her, from top to bottom, from shoulder to waist, and from waist to legs.

In fact, Christina couldn't see anything wrong with it; she simply had a fondness for women, especially for moving back and forth between certain points.

She said lazily.

"Dora".

The mushroom-headed girl took a step forward.

"Big Sister".

"Check it carefully."

Dora nodded and walked up to Lillian.

Lillian looked down at her.

Dora blinked her eyes behind her round-framed glasses.

"Don't move."

Lillian nodded.

Dora raised her hand and placed it on Lillian's chest.

My fingers are cold.

Lillian shuddered.

Dora's hand moved down from her chest, past her ribs, past her waist, and finally stopped at her hip.

Then her eyes widened.

"Boss!"

Christina raised her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Dora's voice was a little excited.

"It's a four-leaf clover!"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Christina stood up and walked over. Emily and Tilulu also came forward. Lillian was surrounded by them and was so nervous that she forgot to cover herself.

"W-What's wrong?"

Christina didn't speak. She bent down, her gaze falling on the pale pink mark on Lillian's buttocks. Four petals, with clearly defined edges, as if drawn with the finest brush.

Lillian also looked back.

"Huh? I remember I didn't have a birthmark when I was little! When...when did this appear?"

Christina laughed and teased.

"That's not a birthmark, you silly boy."