Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne turned off the panel and rolled over.

The bedding was soft, made of freshly fluffed cotton by Grace, and had a dry, warm fragrance after being sun-dried. He stared at the top of the bed curtains for a while, then turned over.

The panel popped up again.

He turned over again and buried his face in the pillow.

It feels stuffy under the pillow, and the control panel isn't lighting up.

After a while, he turned back, and the panel popped up again, as if it were stuck somewhere in his consciousness, impossible to turn off, impossible to shake off, stubbornly refusing to leave.

[Kant Border - Situation Briefing (Abridged Version)]

[All seven people have been checked. Xiulasa's rule is to treat everyone equally, without discrimination; from the team leader to the trainees, from dusk till late at night, everyone was checked. The deputy kept track of the time, and each person's check took about fifteen minutes.]

[Feedback from gang members: Overall satisfied. Eight out of twelve people said the quality of the drugs exceeded expectations. They were surprised by their high drug resistance; future drug purchases from itinerant dealers will need to be adjusted to make the kidnapping process smoother.]

[Seven people's state: confused and disoriented.]

[Note: The trainee knight cried all night. Not out of humiliation, but out of fear. Unpleasant childhood memories resurfaced. In a sense, he was still just a "little white rabbit."]

[Note: This is paid content.]

Wayne opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Over the years, he had read countless erotic novels, both serious and frivolous, some banned by the Vatican and others circulating in the market. The things written in those books—like "seven times a night" or "battles until dawn"—were all nonsense. In reality, it only took about fifteen minutes. Even those with training could only last a little longer, not very long.

What's written in Little Emperor's book is fake. What popped up on the panel last night was real. The real thing is actually more interesting than the fake one. No fancy tricks, no techniques, just the simplest and most basic thing.

Fifteen minutes, done, then change people.

The characters in Little Emperor's novels don't cry, don't feel fear, and don't discover they actually like it when they're bound hand and foot. No matter how eloquently a fake story is written, it doesn't carry the weight of a single word from the truth. Real people are different. Real people cry, tremble, and turn their faces away from everyone afterward.

Therefore, the Little Emperor's Book is fake.

Wayne only looked at part of the panel last night.

It's not because it's too explicit.

It's because it's too real.

He really couldn't sleep.

Time quickly passed to the next day.

Wayne was woken up by being pressed down.

Something was pressing on his chest, not heavy, but suffocating. One head on his left, one on his right, nestled between his shoulders and collarbone. His breathing was light and even, warm breath tickling his neck.

He tried to turn over, but couldn't. Both his arms were being held; Ella held his left arm, and Emma held his right, like two pillars strangled by vines. He tried to pull himself free, but couldn't.

Forget it.

He lay there with his eyes open for a while.

Let the thing that's supposed to disappear disappear on its own.

It didn't go away.

On the contrary, I feel more energetic.

It's all because of last night.

He glanced down; you wouldn't notice unless you looked closely, but if someone lifted the blanket and looked inside, that might be a different story.

He closed his eyes and silently recited the goddess's name in his heart.

I read it three times, but it didn't work.

By the fifth time he read it, something suddenly occurred to him. The goddess governs heaven and earth, wind, rain, thunder, lightning, and the cycle of life and death. Does his morning burst of energy fall under her jurisdiction?

He thought about it and figured he probably wouldn't return.

Or she could return, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

A goddess who has lived for countless years and witnessed tens of thousands of years of human history, the normal morning reaction of a mere young priest is probably no different from an ant stretching in her eyes.

It's not like a miracle would be performed specifically to handle this matter.

So he pulled the blanket up a little.

The panel popped up at this point.

[Frost Town Morning News - People and Events]

[Ace Wilford ran away from home last night. His belongings included: a white horse, a bag of dry rations, two hundred Virgin shields, and a sword that was more for decoration than practical use. He left without warm clothes, a map, or saying goodbye to anyone.]

[Route of escape: Exit the north gate of the town and head northwest along the official road. Judging by the horse's speed, they should be about twenty miles north of the Maple Forest at this moment. Their direction is the same as the Seven Holy Knights, so there is a certain possibility that the two will meet.]

[Note: He was emotionally stable when he left. Not the kind of stable runaway in a fit of pique, but the kind of stable that comes from "I've finally figured it out." He left a letter for his mother with only one sentence: "I'm going to find myself." After reading the letter, Celine sat in her room for only two minutes. In fact, she wasn't thinking about her son, but about something else that haunted her.]

[Note: Celine is probably thinking of you.]

Wayne lay down with his eyes closed for a while longer.

Soon, the two little ones woke up.

Emma moved first. She rolled over, slid her arm off Wayne's arm, nuzzled her head against his shoulder, and blinked, but didn't open her eyes.

"Sister," she called softly.

"Um."

Ella's voice was muffled, still buried in the pillow.

Are you awake?

"woke up."

"I'm awake too." Emma opened her eyes a crack and looked up.

"elder sister."

"Um?"

"The master is still sleeping."

"Um."

"Did you say he's awake or not?"

Ella did not answer.

Emma opened her eyes again and glanced up. Wayne's breathing was even, and his chest was not rising and falling much, as if he were really asleep.

She turned her head and whispered in Ella's ear.

"elder sister."

"What?"

"That bet from that day."

Ella's body stiffened for a moment.

"Our owner said to wait until we're a little older."

"That was said a few days ago," Emma said matter-of-factly. "We've grown three more days today."

Ella opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Besides," Emma lowered her voice even further, "our master hasn't woken up yet. If he doesn't know, it doesn't count as a breach of contract. We'll just grow a little older when he wakes up."

Ella remained silent for a long time.

"...What you said seems to make some sense."

"That makes sense." Emma propped herself up on one side, glanced at Wayne's face, and then turned back. "I'll go first."

"Wait." Ella grabbed her sleeve.

"You...you be gentle."

"I know."

Emma propped herself up, placed her hands on either side of Wayne's shoulders, and looked down for a while.

Morning light streamed in through the cracks in the window, illuminating Wayne's face. Her golden hair was spread out on the pillow, and her long eyelashes were visible as she gazed intently at her.

Then she bent down and kissed Wayne on the cheek.

She shrank back, the tips of her ears starting to turn red.

"Okay." Her voice trembled slightly.

"It's your turn."

Ella propped herself up, placing her hands on either side of Wayne's shoulders, moving much slower than her sister.

She looked down for a while.

The time was so short that she didn't even have time to feel the temperature before she shrank back.

When Ella shrank back, her ears were red from the earlobes to the tips, like shrimp scalded by boiling water. She buried her face in the blanket, leaving only the bright red tips of her ears showing.

Emma's eyes widened.

"That's not fair!"

Her voice came out muffled from under the covers, carrying a sense of grievance after being deceived.

"You kissed my lips! I kissed my cheek! That's not the same thing!"

Ella didn't answer, burying her face in the blanket.

"Sister, you cheated!"

“No, no…”

"Yes! You did!" Emma poked her head out from under the covers, her cheeks puffed out. "We agreed on a kiss, so your kiss on the lips is cheating!"

Ella's voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum.

"I...I didn't mean to..."

"You did it on purpose!"

Emma grew angrier as she spoke, propping herself up as her pajamas slipped off her shoulders, her pale red eyes wide with anger.

"No, I want to start over!"

Emma started to sit up, pressing one hand against Wayne's chest for support and the other against a pillow. She leaned forward, aiming her lips at Wayne's.

Wayne opened his eyes.

Eyes facing each other.