Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

By the time dusk had completely fallen, the cursing had subsided.

Wayne stood on the steps, watching the last few figures disappear around the street corner. The street was deserted, with only a few trampled vegetable leaves and a lost cloth shoe lying across the road, its laces untied, and no one came back to pick it up.

"Master." Emma peeked out from behind.

"Are you really alright?"

"It's alright now."

"Can we eat now?"

"Um."

Emma grabbed her sister's hand and ran towards the kitchen. After a couple of steps, she turned back, glanced at Wayne, and then kept running.

Wayne stood on the steps for a while.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, thin and pale, as if it had been bitten. The blacksmith's shop across the street was still lit. Mag sat at the door for a while, then stood up and put the door panels back together piece by piece. When he got to the last panel, he glanced at Wayne, nodded, and went inside.

Wayne turned and walked inside.

In the kitchen, Vera had already set the table: bread, vegetable soup, and a dish of cured meat, as usual. Emma sat at the table, bread in her hand, not eating, her eyes glancing towards the door. Vera sat beside her, hands on her knees, back ramrod straight.

Emma's eyes lit up when she saw Wayne come in.

"Master, come quick! The soup's getting cold!"

Wayne sat down at the table.

"Eat."

Emma lowered her head, took a bite of bread, her cheeks puffed out, chewed a couple of times, and mumbled, "Master, was that bell ringing today really fake?"

"Um."

Who knocked?

"The town mayor's nephew."

Emma blinked.

"Why are you knocking?"

Wayne thought for a moment.

"He saw a pair of underwear flying in the sky."

The kitchen was quiet for a moment.

Emma's bread stopped at her lips, Ella's hand paused above the soup bowl, and Vera peeked out from behind the stove, spoon still in her hand, forgetting to put it down.

Emma was the first to react.

"Underwear? Flying in the sky?"

"Um."

Why do they fly in the sky?

"Blown by the wind."

"Oh." Emma nodded, stuffed the bread into her mouth, chewed a couple of times, then stopped. "Then why ring the bell? Underwear is flying in the air, what's the point of ringing a bell?"

He thought it was a monster.

Emma stopped chewing her bread completely, her cheeks puffed out, her mouth open, and her eyes wide open.

"The underwear...looks like a Warcraft monster?"

"He sees it as similar."

Emma swallowed the bread, picked up the soup bowl, took a sip, put the bowl down, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Is that person not quite right in the head?"

"Um."

"Oh." Emma nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

Ella whispered from the side, "Then...didn't the people in town come all this way for nothing?"

"Um."

"Will they go after that person and settle the score?"

"Won't."

Why?

"Because he is the mayor's nephew."

Ella nodded, seemingly understanding.

Vera came out from behind the stove and pushed a plate of cured meat toward Emma.

"Eat more, you've all been frightened today."

"I'm not scared," Emma said. "I'm not afraid of monsters. If a monster comes, I'll burn it with fire. Burn it to ashes, burn it to nothing."

As she spoke, a small, orange-red flame leaped from her palm, dancing merrily in the candlelight. Ai stretched out her hand and pressed it down, extinguishing the flame.

"Don't play with fire indoors."

"oh."

After dinner, Wayne sat alone in the main hall.

The moon rose and hung atop the clock tower, bathing the entire town in a cold white light.

When Diaz pushed the door open, Wayne was drinking tea. The door was ajar, and when Diaz pushed it open, the hinges creaked, making a particularly loud noise in the quiet night.

Wayne looked up.

A man stood in the moonlight. He was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, tall, with broad shoulders, wearing a dark short jacket, and a short knife was tucked into his waistband. His face was not clearly visible in the moonlight, but a scar on his chin could be seen, running from his left ear to the corner of his jaw.

The panel popped up.

Name: Diaz

[Identity: Leader of the Frosttown Mercenary Group]

[Actual age: 36]

[Strength: Early Stage 4 (Warrior)]

[Past: An orphan. He was adopted by a wet nurse at the age of three and fed with her own breast milk. After the wet nurse passed away, he developed a lifelong habit of drinking milk. This is his biggest secret and his greatest weakness.]

[Current Status: Injured. He got injured on the way back. He encountered a lone fourth-tier magical beast on the road, killed it on the spur of the attack, but was slashed in the ribs by its claws.]

[Purpose of visit: To see you. He heard that a new bishop had arrived at the church and punched Vincent, sending him flying. He wanted to see what this man looked like.]

[Note: He's a good man. Although he likes drinking milk, he's a good man. He's doing something unconventional—robbing the rich to help the poor. The Frosttown orphanage is jointly funded by him and Wilford. Seventy percent of the monthly insurance premiums collected from merchants go to the orphanage and the families of orphans.]

[Note 2: He was not a saint. He did indeed use those widows. But he only sought out widows, those who had lost their men, their support, and were struggling to survive. He gave them money, and they provided goods; each got what they needed. Some widows had none, but he still gave them money, as a form of care.]

[Note 3: He wasn't a good person. But he was more human than most people in the world.]

Wayne's gaze lingered on the panel for a couple of moments.

The saying "Many righteous men are from humble backgrounds" is quite fitting for Diaz. However, his peculiar habits are hardly worthy of excessive praise.

At this moment, the moonlight fell on the goddess statue in the main hall, and beneath the statue, Wayne's golden hair shimmered with silver light, making him appear incredibly sacred.

"The goddess of night is already resting," he said, extending his hand. "However, the goddess has mercy on the wounded; please come in and sit down!"

Diaz stood still.

He frowned slightly.

His injury was very well hidden.

How did the priest figure that out?

Could this person be even stronger than him?!

He took two steps forward, stepping out of the moonlight into the shadows, and then out of the shadows again, standing before Wayne.

"Are you that bishop?"

"Yes."

"He sent Vincent flying with a single punch?"

"Yes."

Diaz paused for a moment, then his lips twitched slightly. It wasn't a smile, just a slight upward turn of the corners of his mouth.

"Well done. That kid's been getting more and more outrageous lately."

Wayne didn't reply. He stood up from the podium and walked towards the side door. Before leaving, he turned and glanced at Diaz.

"Please sit wherever you like! I'll go get the medicine."

When Wayne returned, he had a porcelain bottle in his hand.

The green glaze gleamed softly in the moonlight.

He placed the porcelain vase on Diaz's table.

"Healing medicine," he said. "Apply it topically. Clean the wound thoroughly and then apply it. It should heal in three days."

Diaz glanced at the porcelain bottle but didn't take it.

"How much?"

"It's free."

Diaz frowned.

He's seen far too many people like that.

They'll say it's free, but once you take the medicine and gratefully apply it, someone will come knocking on your door the next day, saying the medicine comes from the church, a gift from the goddess, and you have to donate some money. Don't donate? Then you're ungrateful, disrespectful to the goddess. Previous bishops all did this, each with their own unique tricks.

"Really, it's free? Why?"

Wayne smiled.

"The goddess is always watching over your kindness."

Diaz paused for a moment, stunned.

"My mercy?"

"Yes, she knows everything you've done."

At this moment, Diaz seemed to truly feel that everything about him had been seen through.

He didn't say anything more, but silently accepted the potion and left the church.