Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

The Seven Holy Knights were supposed to arrive in Frosttown today.

Wayne was ready.

The Witch Cult had sentries three miles outside the town, and Christina had assigned two second-tier witches to take turns watching the main road to the north. If the paladin made a move, he would retreat to the mountains. If the enemy outnumbered them, the Witch Cult would intervene.

He has a backup plan if the other party doesn't play by the rules.

Everything is ready.

However, by noon, nothing had come from the official road to the north.

Wayne sat in the yard.

The panel popped up around noon.

The Seven Knights' Marching Diary - Final Day

[Estimated arrival time: This morning]

[Actual location: Northwest entrance of the maple forest]

[Status: All personnel unreachable]

Wayne put down his teacup.

Missing?

The panel continues to update.

[Yesterday evening, south entrance of the maple forest]

The Seven Holy Knights encountered a caravan on the main road. The caravan was small, consisting of five wagons and about a dozen people. Leading them was a woman in her thirties, well-dressed and polite, who introduced herself as a fur trader from the north, heading to Frost Town for the night. The Holy Knights decided to travel with the caravan.

The woman was very hospitable, serving wine and meat at dinner. The paladins initially didn't want to drink, but the woman said it was cold at night in the north, and a few sips would warm them up. The leader, Lancelot, hesitated for a moment, then accepted the bowl of wine.

[Note: The wine was laced with a drug. Not poison, but a sedative. A very strong dose was used, enough to incapacitate ten people. The seven knights drank three bowls, and all collapsed a quarter of an hour later.]

[The caravan's true identity: a human trafficking ring composed of women. They specialize in targeting lone travelers on official roads, drugging them, and selling them to mines in the north or brothels in the south. They've been doing this for six years without a single failure. Last night's deal was their biggest this year—seven young, strong men, all of good appearance, who would fetch a good price.]

The head of the human traffickers remarked while counting her goods, "These few are really handsome, it's a pity they're men. If they were women, selling them to noble families in the capital would be enough to feed them for three years." Her deputy chimed in, "Men are also in demand. The mines in the north are short of laborers, and there are some nobles in the south who have a taste for them." The head of the traffickers nodded in agreement.

[Note: The traffickers still don't know who they've kidnapped. The Seven Knights were dressed in civilian clothes, without badges or identification. To them, they were just seven young men on their way, a bit good-looking and strong, nothing more.]

[P.S.: The Seven Holy Knights are still unconscious. They were tied up and thrown into a truck, which headed northwest, in the opposite direction from Frostbite.]

Wayne stared at the panel for a long time.

Another magical thing happened.

He had imagined countless possible outcomes. The papal envoy might try diplomacy first, then resort to force; the paladins might take direct action; or they could find the mayor's mansion, reveal their identities, and drag him back like a chicken.

He considered confronting them head-on, running away, and using the power of the Witch Cult to maneuver. He even considered that if he couldn't escape, he would go with them and figure out a way along the way.

What he never expected was that seven people, seven paladins of different ranks, were drugged and incapacitated by a group of human traffickers.

Wayne finished his herbal tea and poured himself another cup.

He suddenly remembered a line from Charman's letter: "Goddess bless." Although I'm not quite sure what she's blessing me with lately.

It seems the goddess was indeed protecting us. However, the direction of her protection was different from what everyone expected.

The message from the Witch Cult arrived in the evening.

Emily was the messenger. She stood at the church door without coming in, a dark shadow spreading out beneath her feet, blending into the twilight.

"There's no movement from the north," she said. "We've been watching all day, and we haven't even seen a single person on horseback."

Wayne stood in the doorway.

"No need to keep an eye on it anymore."

Emily paused for a moment.

"Aren't you going to keep an eye on them anymore?"

"They can't come."

Emily looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

Wayne thought about how to explain.

There was a slight accident on the way.

"What accident?"

"I was kidnapped by human traffickers."

Emily's expression changed from confusion to bewilderment, and from bewilderment to an expression of not knowing whether to believe it or not.

Are you sure?

"Sure."

"Then I'll go back and tell my older sister." After she finished speaking, the shadow beneath her feet swirled, and she disappeared into the twilight.

Evening prayers in the church have just ended.

Emma and Ella ran out of the main hall, one after the other, with Emma running in front and Ella following behind, each carrying a scripture.

"Master, Master!" Emma ran over and hugged his waist. "So many people came today! Sister Lisa brought lots of apples! Aunt Grace made apple pie!"

Ella nodded beside her, her ears red, whether from running or from the heat in the main hall, it was hard to tell.

Wayne ruffled Emma's hair.

"Alright, go wash your hands and eat."

In Frosttown, some people are relieved, while others are regretful.

The most regrettable one is Ace.

He got up early this morning, took the silver knight's armor out from the depths of the cabinet, and wiped it three times. The breastplate was so clean you could see your reflection in it, and he carefully cleaned each rivet on the shoulder armor with the corner of a cloth. He even re-stuffed the inner lining of the helmet with cotton.

He waited for a long time at the main entrance.

They stood there from morning until noon, and from noon until afternoon. The armor was scorching hot under the sun, and sweat streamed down their necks, soaking the collar of their undershirts.

The crowd he was waiting for never arrived.

Today, his dream of being a comrade was shattered.

Ace returned home in the evening.

However, as soon as he entered the house, he was seized by the servants.

"Young master, please forgive me."

He was forced onto the chair, the ropes wrapped around his shoulders, then his chest, and then his waist, binding him three times. The chair was specially made, with armrests wider than usual, perfectly positioned to hold his wrists.

Wilford stood on the opposite side.

He was wearing a dark-colored casual outfit today.

"Let go, I did nothing wrong, why are you helping me?"

Ace struggled.

Wilford ignored him and went to sit down at the table.

"Do you know why I tied you up?"

"have no idea."

Wilford pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve.

"This morning, the groom's wife came to see me." His voice was flat, as if he were reading from an insignificant ledger. "She said her husband didn't come home last night. In the end, she found him at their horse farm, with you. Neither of them were properly dressed."

Wilford cursed.

"A disgrace to the family! Utterly a disgrace to the family!"

Ace didn't say anything.

Wilford slammed the paper on the table.

"Tell me! What do you want me to do?!"

Ace sat in the chair, the rope digging into his shoulders, unable to move, so he simply stopped moving.

"Deal with?" He smirked. "How do you want to deal with it? Kick him out? Pay him compensation? Or lock me up?"

Wilford looked at him.

"You think you're not wrong?"

"What did I do wrong?!" Ace's voice suddenly rose. "Who I like and who I'm with, who does it bother? That coachman did it willingly, I didn't force him. His wife came to you to complain because she can't control her man, what does that have to do with me?"

Wilford didn't say anything.

Ace took a couple of breaths, his voice lowered, turning into a kind of hatred squeezed out from his throat.

Do you know why I've become like this?

Wilford looked at him.

"It's you!"

Ace continued, his eyes reddening.

"It's all your fault that I've become like this!"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Wilford was stunned.

"My fault?"