Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

In just three days, Frost Town has been completely transformed.

The church's stone walls were rebuilt, the half-collapsed bell tower was repaired, and even the uneven cobblestone path in front of the entrance was filled in. Thomason, along with several new helpers, worked from morning till night, cleaning up the church inside and out.

More people came to pray.

Every morning, a line forms outside the church. Some come for medical treatment, some to pray, and some simply to see what the bishop looks like. Lisa arrives on time every day to help Vera clean the yard, do laundry, and cook. She wears a plain dress, her hair neatly tied up, looking completely different from how she looked on Green Oriole Street.

Mag, the blacksmith from town, came twice. The first time, he brought a new pot, and the second time, he rebuilt the fence in the churchyard. Widow Grace came to cook every day; she was better than Vera, and her bread was soft and delicious—Emma could eat three in one go.

At six o'clock in the morning, Wayne had a rare moment of leisure.

He sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, holding a cup of hot tea. The courtyard was damp, and the moss in the cracks of the stone slabs shone with moisture.

The panel popped up.

[Frosttown Weekly - Witch Cult Special Edition]

[Treatment Summary: Over the past three days, the Witch Cult has received treatment on seventeen members. The average curse level has decreased by one rank. With repeated treatments, the witches have gradually grasped the secrets hidden within your magic.]

[Note: These days, all the witches have become hypocritical. They claim to have pure thoughts, but very few truly live up to it.]

[Note 2: Your first batch of "loyalties" is forming. Their most distinctive characteristic is that even when their brains are completely overloaded, they pretend nothing has happened. The fact that they aren't grinning foolishly is already a testament to their strong willpower.]

[Comment: Some things, once tried, are unforgettable. Some ideas, once born, are impossible to stop.]

Wayne looked at the panel, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

Unexpectedly, I've gone back to my old profession.

It wasn't that he insisted on doing this "old profession." Water magic was just like that; he couldn't control it. Those witches came with stern faces, but left blushing. What could he do?

He can't refuse to treat people who come to him for treatment, nor can he control their thoughts. Besides, he hasn't done anything outrageous. He places his hand on the patient, the water element flows over, and that's it.

As for what the other person was thinking, that was the goddess's arrangement, and had nothing to do with him, Wayne.

Christina was alright; at least she managed to maintain her dignity as the big sister. The others practically had "I want to do it again" written all over their faces. After each treatment, they would sit in a chair for a while, saying they needed to "take a break."

Wayne took another sip of tea.

Exposing their decency?

forget it.

It's embarrassing for everyone if you expose it.

It's better to pretend we don't know; then everyone's fine.

Moreover, the church has indeed benefited quite a bit these days. Members of the Witch Cult have been sending things over every few days—medicines, potions, and other rare items that are hard to find on the market. Christina even had the church's defensive magic array reinforced, saying it was "to thank His Excellency the Bishop for his help."

In reality, it's just a matter of each taking what they need.

While Wayne was still in a daze.

Vera's voice came from outside the courtyard.

"Your Excellency, Miss Sophie has arrived."

Wayne put down his teacup.

Today is only the third day.

This is the fifth time.

He stood up and walked towards the front yard.

Sophie stood at the church entrance, carrying a bamboo basket filled with apples. She was wearing a light blue dress, and her hair was braided and draped over her shoulders. She looked much more energetic than the last time we met.

When Wayne walked over, her face turned red instantly.

"Your Excellency," she bowed her head and handed the basket forward, "this was harvested from the family orchard; my mother asked me to bring it over."

Wayne took the basket.

"Thank you. How are you recovering?"

"Okay, okay." Sophie's voice trailed off, her head bowing lower and lower. "Thanks to you, sir..."

Her ears turned bright red as soon as she finished speaking.

The panel popped up.

Sophie Wilford

[Current Status: Fifth visit to church]

[Note: Ever since she saw that face in her dream that day, she could never forget it. A young girl's heart is fickle; at this moment, she thinks Wayne is even more handsome than her own brother, Ace. Ace? He doesn't seem so appealing anymore.]

[Note 2: The main reason she has no feelings for Ace is that this morning, she discovered Ace's outrageous affair with the stable boy. This morning, she found Ace embracing the young stable boy. Both their clothes were disheveled.]

[Also: No one noticed her, and she dared not tell anyone. She had completely made peace with herself. So her brother liked men; no wonder he had never shown any interest in her growing up. It wasn't his fault, nor hers. She even felt a sense of relief; it wasn't that she wasn't good enough.]

Sophie stood at the church entrance, her face still flushed.

She lowered her head and twirled her fingers around the hem of her skirt twice.

"Your Excellency, I...I have another matter to discuss with you today."

Wayne looked at her.

"What is it?"

Sophie bit her lip.

I'm still not feeling well.

Her voice grew softer and softer.

"Ever since that day, I've been feeling unwell. I can't sleep well at night and I have no energy during the day. My mother says it might be a lingering effect of the demon, and she asked me to come and ask you to take another look."

Her ears turned bright red after she finished speaking.

In fact, Sophie remembers what happened that day.

Not all, but enough to remember.

She still can't forget your phantom.

So today, Sophie mustered up her courage, found a suitable excuse, and once again experienced that sacred moment.

Wayne glanced at Sophie.

"Come in."

Sophie followed behind him, her steps light and quick. There were still a few people attending worship in the church's main hall. She walked quickly past them with her head down, the tips of her ears red, as if afraid of being recognized.

Wayne led her through the main hall, pushed open a side door, and into the corridor. At the end of the corridor was the newly renovated confessional, its wooden door painted dark brown, with a clean cloth hanging on the doorknob.

Wayne pushed open the door and stepped aside to let him pass.

"Please come in."

Sophie bent down and crawled inside.

The confessional was small, with two low stools separated by a carved wooden window, through which sunlight streamed in from the small window overhead.

Wayne sat down on another low stool.

"Don't be nervous," he said.

"Mmm." Sophie nodded softly.

Wayne placed his hand on the window sill.

Sophie looked at the hand, hesitated for a moment, then reached out and placed her hand in his palm.

Wayne took her hand, and the water element began to circulate. Pale blue elements crawled up her fingers to her wrist.

Sophie stopped breathing.

Stand tall, stand tall.