Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

When Wayne came out of the mayor's mansion.

It was already noon.

[Mayor's Residence - Follow-up Report]

Sophie Wilford awoke about three minutes after you left, fully conscious, able to recognize people, and able to speak. Her first words were, "Mother, I had a very long dream." Her second was, "There was someone in my dream who was very handsome." Her third was, "I don't think I know him." Celine didn't tell her who that person was.

Hena has returned to the Abyss. She's sitting in her lair, staring blankly at the wall. Her assistant (a low-ranking succubus) asked her what was wrong, but she didn't answer. She's thinking of you.

[Note: A demon who has lived for four hundred years feels, for the first time, that the abyss is too lonely.]

[Also: She's rummaging through drawers and cabinets until she found a map of the Southern Continent; she's already memorized the location of Frost Town.]

Wayne turned off the panel, rubbed his temples, and didn't want to think about the mental state of a four-hundred-year-old demon right now.

The carriage was still waiting downstairs. When the driver saw him come out, he quickly opened the carriage door.

"Sir, are we going back to church?"

"Return."

The horse-drawn carriage rumbled down the mountain.

Inside the church, two heads were huddled together by the well, whispering amongst themselves as they washed dishes. Emma scrubbed a bowl over and over, until the bottom was almost worn smooth, but she still hadn't put it down.

"Sister, when do you think Master will be back?"

Ella was wiping another bowl, a little slower than her sister, but she was wiping it more carefully, making sure to clean every nook and cranny.

"It'll be soon."

"Oh." Emma put down the bowl, picked up another one, wiped it twice, and put it down again.

"elder sister."

"Um?"

"I love my master so much, how about you?"

Ella paused, the bowl almost slipping from her grasp. She quickly clenched it, and the tips of her ears began to turn red.

"I like it too."

"So, do you like me more or less?"

Ella was stunned.

"How can this be compared to..."

"Why can't we compare?" Emma tilted her head. "I like my master so much more, even more than I like food. What about you?"

Ella opened her mouth and whispered:

"Then, I have so many too."

"Do you have more or I have more?"

"The same amount..."

"No, you have to get more than me."

Why?

"Because you're the older sister," Emma said matter-of-factly. "An older sister has to like more things than her younger sister."

Ella got caught up in it.

She thought for a long time and then nodded seriously.

"Then, then I have more."

Emma was satisfied and continued washing the dishes.

Before long, she started talking again.

"elder sister."

"Um?"

"That woman laughed at us today because we're not even fully grown yet."

Ella's hand paused again.

"Are they making fun of us because we're still young?" Emma looked down at herself, then at her sister, and compared them seriously. "I don't feel like I'm young."

Ella followed her gaze.

Her face flushed instantly.

"W-What are you looking at?!"

"It depends on the size," Emma said frankly. "I think it's alright. Yours is a little bigger than mine, but not by much. What makes them say we haven't even grown all our hair yet?"

"Th-that's not..." Ella's voice trailed off, "It's not that..."

"What does that mean?"

Ella couldn't bring herself to say it.

Although she had spent so many years in the slave market, she only had a vague understanding of those things and couldn't explain them clearly. And her younger sister was looking at her with those round, inquisitive eyes.

"It's just..." she hesitated for a long time.

"It's...that..."

"Which one?"

"Well..." Ella's voice was barely audible, "we'll understand when we grow up..."

Emma gave an "Oh" that seemed to understand but not quite.

"How long will it take?"

"Probably... a few years."

"How many years is that?"

"Well..." Ella counted on her fingers, "maybe two years? Three years? Or maybe not?"

"It took that long?" Emma said, a little disappointed.

"Can't you hurry up?"

Ella didn't know how to answer that question.

Fortunately, the courtyard gate was pushed open at that moment.

Wayne walked in, his hair a little messy from the wind.

"Owner!"

Emma was the first to rush forward, but she turned back halfway, shoved the wet bowl in her hand into Ella's arms, and then ran back to hug Wayne tightly.

"Master, you're back!"

How is the mayor's eldest daughter doing?

"It's alright now." Wayne patted her head.

Have you eaten yet?

"Not yet! We'll eat together when Master comes back!"

Wayne smiled.

"Let's go eat."

Emma ran happily towards the kitchen, but after a couple of steps she turned back: "Sister! Come here quickly!"

Ella stood there, holding the bowl, her face still flushed, watching Wayne's retreating figure, and whispered something.

The sound was too soft; no one heard it.

In the kitchen, Vera had already set out the food.

The meal consisted of a few simple items: white bread, vegetable soup, a small dish of cured meat, and a pot of hot milk. They were all ordinary things, but arranged neatly.

Wayne sat down at the table, with the two little ones on either side of him. Mayfair was sleeping and hadn't come to eat.

With a piece of bread stuffed in her mouth and her cheeks bulging, Emma mumbled, "Master, Uncle Hunter came to see Wendy today."

Wayne glanced at her.

"When?"

"Not long after you left," Emma swallowed her bread and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "After the old man came, he sat by Wendy's bedside and talked for a while. When he came out, his eyes were red."

"But she seemed very happy," she added. "She even walked faster than usual and was humming a little tune."

Ella nodded beside her.

"Yes, he held my hand and said thank you several times. He also said that Wendy was much better than before, and could sit up and eat by herself, whereas before she couldn't even swallow porridge."

Wayne picked up a piece of cured meat without saying a word.

Emma spoke again, like beans spilling from her mouth.

"Wendy also said a lot to him! I overheard some of it when I passed by, like 'His Excellency the Bishop is very gentle,' 'It didn't hurt at all when he treated me,' and 'He even told me stories about goddesses,' basically all of it was praise for you."

Wayne paused in his eating.

He was slightly puzzled:

Is he like that?

Emma tilted her head to look at Wayne, her eyes shining.

"Master, are you this kind to everyone?"

Wayne put down his fork.

"no."

Emma blinked.

"Then why are you so nice to Wendy? And so nice to her grandfather too?"

Wayne looked at her; her round, pale red eyes were filled with earnestness. This child genuinely wanted to know the answer.

"Because it's worth it," he said.

"Worth it?" Emma tilted her head.

"Wendy was sick, and her grandfather went everywhere asking for help, but no one was willing to treat her. I treated her, and she got better. Her grandfather was grateful. It was a case of good deeds for good deeds." Wayne paused.

"But some people, if you're nice to them, they won't be grateful; they'll just think you're easy to bully."

Emma frowned.

"How could anyone do this?"

"A lot." Wayne picked up his milk and took a sip. "So when you help someone, you have to figure out first whether that person is worth helping."

Emma nodded, seemingly understanding.

"So how do we determine if it's worth it?"

Wayne thought for a moment.

"Look into his eyes," he said. "If there's fear, nervousness, or embarrassment in his eyes when he asks for help, then he's probably worth helping. If he only takes it for granted, then forget about it."

Emma was even more confused.

Are you scared? Nervous? Embarrassed?

She turned to look at Ella.

"Sister, is this how I beg my master?"

Ella blushed again.

"When...when did you ever ask your master for help?"

Emma thought about it seriously.

"It seems not." She turned back to look at Wayne. "Master, I don't think I've ever asked you for help."

"You don't need to beg," Wayne said.

Why?

"Because you are different."

Emma's eyes lit up.

"What's different?"