Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Christina straightened up, her gaze lingering on Lillian's face for a moment before scanning back and forth across the three points.

"The flower and leaf markings on a witch," she smiled, but her voice became more serious, "represent the witch's initial potential. The more petals a witch has, the higher her potential."

Lillian blinked.

"So, do I have... a lot?"

"A four-leaf clover," Christina said. "Among witches, that's already considered genius. The vast majority of witches, in their entire lives, only manage two or three leaves."

Lillian grinned.

"Then wouldn't I be a genius?"

Christina laughed even more heartily.

On the other side, Dora was still crouching behind her, her eyes behind her round-framed glasses fixed on the pale pink mark, her brows furrowing more and more tightly.

"Boss, something's wrong, come and take a look."

Christina took a step forward and bent down.

Emily and Tilulu also came over.

All four of them simultaneously focused their gaze on the pale pink four-leaf clover behind Lillian.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere, but Lillian blushed a little as the four men stared at her.

"W-What's wrong?"

Christina didn't speak; her gaze was fixed on the petal, her purple eyes slightly narrowed.

Logically speaking, since Lillian has already broken through to the second tier, the color of her petals should be red.

But what was presented to them now was a pale pink that was almost invisible, the color that only a first-order witch would have when she first awakened.

"Dora," Christina said.

"Are you sure this is a four-leaf clover?"

Dora nodded and adjusted her glasses.

"Confirmed. The pattern is clear, the edges are intact, it's a four-leaf clover. But the color..."

She didn't finish speaking.

Tilulu chimed in from the side.

"The color is wrong."

Emily also noticed the problem.

"A second-tier witch's petals should be red. Why are they still pink? And... this pink is too pale, even paler than when I first awakened."

Lillian was a little confused by what they said.

"Is there something wrong with this color?"

Christina straightened up and looked at her face.

"The color of the petals represents the risk of a witch breaking through her limits."

Lillian blinked.

"risk?"

"Yes," Christina continued, "When you first become a first-tier witch, the petals are pink. Upon breaking through to the second tier, they turn red. The third tier, deep red. The fourth tier, purplish-red. And so on, the deeper the color, the higher the risk of the next breakthrough."

Lillian nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

"Then I'll have this pink one..."

"Logically speaking, since you're already at the second tier, your petals should be red," Christina paused, "but the color of your petals is paler than that of many first-tier witches."

Lillian was stunned.

She looked down at herself, then turned to look behind her, but still couldn't see anything.

"Then... what does this mean?"

Christina didn't answer; she turned to Lillian, her purple eyes scrutinizing her.

"Child, have you come into contact with anything strange lately?"

Lillian thought for a moment.

"Something strange?"

"Or perhaps you've ingested some strange magic potion."

Lillian tried hard to recall.

She thought of the bag of pastries her aunt had slipped into her arms the day she left Audrian, and the soup Vera had cooked in the carriage… but she couldn’t remember anything else.

She shook her head.

"I can't remember."

Christina looked at her and continued to ask.

"And what about when you broke through? Did anything special happen when you broke through from level one to level two?"

Lillian tilted her head and thought for a moment.

"Something special..."

She recalled the day she broke through.

It was three years ago, one night, that she hid in her aunt's closet, burning up with fever, as if she were on fire. Her aunt held her, praying over and over again, all night long. The next morning, the fever subsided, and she became a Level 2 patient.

"I have a fever," she said.

"It burned all night, but it was fine the next day."

"That's all?"

That's all.

Christina fell silent.

She turned and walked back to the head of the table, sat down in the chair, and stared at the flickering flames in the fireplace with her purple eyes, as if she were thinking about something.

Dora leaned closer and asked in a low voice.

"Boss, what's going on here?"

Emily whispered beside her.

"Instead of increasing, it decreased... Such a thing is unheard of."

Tilulu's gaze fell on Lillian, her brow furrowing slightly. She recalled what had happened that morning, the bishop's water elemental, and herself standing before him...

However, this is probably not a coincidence.

Christina spoke up.

"Put your clothes on."

Lillian paused for a moment.

"Huh? Oh, okay."

She bent down to pick up the clothes on the ground and put them on one by one. The hem of her skirt quickly covered the four-leaf clover mark.

After getting dressed, Lillian looked up.

"So, does that mean I've passed the test?"

Christina looked at her.

"This is just observation."

Lillian blinked.

"And what about the real test?"

Christina leaned back in her chair, a smile in her eyes.

"It hasn't started yet."

Lillian stood up straight and puffed out her chest.

"I'm not afraid! I can take any test!"

Christina leaned back in her chair, her purple eyes falling on her face with a mixture of scrutiny and amusement.

"The test is simple," she said, her voice languid yet clear.

"Kill that priest."

Lillian was stunned.

"What?"

Christina watched her repeat it again.

"Kill the priest who came with you."

The room became completely quiet.

Lillian's smile slowly faded. She stood there, bewildered, and then asked in confusion.

"You mean... Mr. Wayne?"

Christina nodded.

"right."

Lillian didn't speak for a while.

Why?

Christina leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers lightly on the armrest, and said earnestly.

"Child, you are a witch. He is a priest. Priests and witches have been mortal enemies since ancient times. He took you in, healed your illness, and gave you food and clothing. Do you think he did it out of kindness?"

Lillian frowned.

"But Mr. Wayne, he..."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's a good man," Lillian said earnestly. "He helped many people along the way from Aldrian to Frostshire. He saved his wife's life from that fat slave trader. He rescued Vera, the girl from Blackrock Village, from the altar. And Ella and Emma, ​​those two little witches, would have died in the slave market if it weren't for him."

Tilulu walked forward from the side.

"Lillian, you've been deceived by him."

Lillian looked at her.

Tilulu's voice was deep:

"Do you know how many witches the church has killed? How many of those priests earned their money by reporting witches? How many women died at their hands? Some of them didn't even spare children. Do you still believe them?"

Lillian was stunned.

"What...what do those things have to do with Mr. Wayne?"

"It doesn't matter now, but what about later?" Tilulu stared at her. "He's a priest, and his robes are the same color as those people's."