Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

As dusk fell, Emily pushed open the door to the main hall.

The two little ones walked in one after the other. Emma walked in front, rubbing her eyes, a strand of hair sticking up as if she had just woken up and hadn't had time to comb it. Ella followed behind, walking slower than usual, clutching a neatly folded handkerchief in her hand.

"Master," Ella called out, walking straight to Wayne's side and tugging at the hem of his robe. "We slept for a long time."

"Um."

I dreamt about you.

What did you dream about?

"I don't remember." Ella tilted her head and thought for a moment.

"Anyway, you're here."

Ella stood to the side, folding her handkerchief again and again, and whispered, "Master, we should go back."

"Hmm." Wayne stood up, straightened his clothes, and looked at Christina. "Thank you for your hospitality today."

Christina stood up from her chair and politely asked, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"No, it's getting late."

Christina didn't press the matter further, nodded, and gestured towards the door. Lynette walked over from the window, leaned against the doorframe, her gaze lingering on Wayne's face for a moment before shifting to Dora's, a half-smile playing on her lips.

"Mr. Wayne, come again next time!"

"it is good."

On the return journey in the carriage, Wayne leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. Emma lay on his knees, looking up at him, her pale red eyes blinking.

"Owner."

"Um."

"Did you just do something bad?"

Wayne opened his eyes.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because your face was red when you came out," Emma said matter-of-factly. "Your face doesn't usually turn red."

Wayne glanced at her but didn't reply.

Emma, ​​undeterred, asked again, "Master, why did you give the cream puffs Vera made to them?"

"Let them have a taste," Wayne said. "After all, we've eaten their delicious food, haven't we?"

Emma thought for a moment and nodded.

"That seems to make sense."

She tilted her head and thought about it again.

"But Vera made these cream puffs for us. Would she be unhappy if we shared them with them?"

"Won't."

Why?

"Because Vera isn't that kind of person."

Emma said "Oh" and didn't ask any more questions. She buried her face in Wayne's knees, snuggled up, found a comfortable position, and closed her eyes.

Ella sat beside him, clutching a handkerchief in her hand, the corners twisted into a pretzel. She stole a glance at Wayne, then quickly looked away, the tips of her ears red.

"Ella".

Ella's body stiffened for a moment.

"Master?"

"What's wrong?"

"No, no." Her voice was so soft it was barely audible. "Whatever Master does is right."

Wayne reached out and ruffled her hair.

Ella's hair was soft, just like Emma's, with a soft, yielding texture. Unlike her sister, she didn't snuggle into his hand; she simply stood there, motionless, even her breathing becoming soft.

"Go to sleep," Wayne said. "I'll wake you when we get there."

"Um."

Ella closed her eyes, her eyelashes still trembling.

The horse-drawn carriage rumbled down the mountain.

The coachman's voice came from outside: "Sir, we're almost in town. Shall we head straight back to the church?"

"Go back to the church."

By the time the carriage came to a stop in front of the church, dusk had fallen considerably. Wayne paid the fare and got out with the two children. Emma's legs went weak when she jumped down, but Wayne grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Are you alright?"

"It's okay." Emma steadied herself, brushed the dust off her skirt, and said, "My legs are just a little sore."

Wayne didn't respond.

He knew perfectly well why his legs were sore; he had slept for so long in the carriage, and his posture was wrong, causing them to go numb.

It has nothing to do with anything else...?

The church doors were open, and Vera stood in the doorway, clutching a rag. Seeing the three return, she took two steps forward to greet them.

"My lord, you're back?"

"Um."

"Dinner is ready. I made chicken soup today; Aunt Grace brought over an old hen, and I've been simmering it all afternoon. It smells so good."

By the time dinner was served, it was completely dark. Vera carried a ceramic pot, placing it in the center of the table. The lid was off, and steam rose up, filling the kitchen with the aroma of chicken soup. Emma leaned over the edge of the table, brought her nose close to the rim of the pot, sniffed, and drooled.

"It smells so good."

After everyone had arrived, the group began dinner.

Wayne picked up the bowl and took a sip.

The chicken soup was thick and white, with a layer of golden oil floating on top. The meat was so tender that it fell apart when picked up with chopsticks. Vera's cooking skills were truly impeccable.

Mayfair sat down beside him, picked up her bowl of soup, blew on it to cool it down, and glanced at Wayne before drinking it.

"Sir, how was your day on the mountain?"

"good."

"They...didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

"no."

Mayfair nodded, lowered her head to drink her soup, and didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't the type to pry; if Wayne said it was alright, then it was alright. As for how it actually was, that was his business. She was just a nun, and she wouldn't ask questions she shouldn't.

The panel popped up at this point.

【Dora's Dormitory】

[Current Status: Lying in bed, unable to forget. She changed positions several times—lying flat, on her side, kneeling—trying to recall her previous research findings in each position, but with little effect; after all, specialized research requires specific assistants.]

[The cult members' reaction: Dora is different. These details did not escape the notice of the twenty-three women. But they did not know exactly what had happened, or how far things had progressed.]

[Note: She likes the feeling, not you as a person. She repeatedly tells herself this to ensure she remains a rigorous researcher.]

[Note 2: The color of her witch's petals is changing from red to pale red. The curse is fading, and desire is growing. She is beginning to truly understand desire, not the kind of understanding from books, but an understanding gained through experience. She is currently pondering a question: If you appeared before her right now, would she pounce on you? She thought for a long time, and the answer is: Yes.]

[Note 3: She was wondering whether to tell anyone else. Telling would be too embarrassing. Not telling would leave her feeling stifled. She needed someone to share with, but she didn't know to what extent.]

Wayne lowered his head and took a sip of soup.

He was used to such things.

Dora liked the feeling, not him as a person. He was the same way. Desire is a two-way street; no one is anyone's appendage.

She got what she wanted from him, and he got what he wanted from her. Everyone got what they needed, and no one owed anyone anything.

In fact, this was not the first time Wayne had done this.

During meals.

A name automatically popped into his mind.

Saint Tessa.

A recognized saint of the Southern Continent Alliance.

four years ago.

At that time, he was just a novice monk, and the church had not yet assigned him housing. His daily work consisted of sweeping, copying scriptures, and serving tea and water to the bishop.

Tessa appeared in the dead of winter when she was unconscious. It was Wayne who took her back to his rented room.

He saved her.

Next is the story of the boy and the older sister.

The beginning is touching, and the ending is inspiring.

The first ten days of treatment went smoothly, and Tessa recovered well under Wayne's water magic healing.

About ten days after treatment.

Everything has changed.

Things started to get out of control.

Tessa discovered the secret of water magic.

Wayne has been imprisoned!

He was forced to learn a lot during those ten days.

However, some things cannot be compensated for by talent. After all, at that time he was really just a novice monk, and the difference in driving experience was also a reality.

In the end, Wayne suffered a small loss.

After that, Wayne never saw that woman again.