Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Marco's panel popped up quickly.

Name: Marco

[Identity: Former Border Guard Scout (Tier 3 Warrior)]

[Actual age: 43 years old]

[Past: He served as a border guard in the Frost Mountains for fifteen years, and was familiar with the terrain and climate of the area. Three years ago, he was expelled from the army for disobeying orders—at that time, a demonic tide attacked, and his superiors ordered a retreat. He led a team to rush in and rescue people, saving eleven people, but he lost his military status.]

Current status: Poor. He has lived on odd jobs for the past five years, but has never stolen or robbed. He had a daughter who would be ten years old if she were still alive, but she died of illness two years ago. At the time, he had absolutely no money for treatment.

Marco sat opposite him, waiting for him to ask questions.

"Why do you want to go to Frosttown?" Wayne asked.

Marco remained silent for a moment.

“I know that place well,” he said. “I’ve been there for fifteen years. I know which roads to take, which places to hide, and which forests have monsters. You’ll need a guide if you go there.”

Wayne nodded.

"Anything else?"

Marco looked at him.

Their eyes met.

"...You can make more money over there," he said.

Wayne didn't say anything.

Marco lowered his head.

"In areas prone to demonic surges, the rewards for guarding are high. I want to save some money... for later..."

He didn't finish speaking.

Wayne knew what he hadn't finished saying.

What about in the future?

Should I build a nicer grave for my daughter in the future?

Will I save up for a coffin for myself in the future?

Or is it that there is no future at all, and I just want to find a place to die quickly?

Wayne didn't press the matter.

"Frosttown is dangerous," he said. "Demonic tides, wild beasts, refugees—people could die at any moment. You've been a scout; you know better than I do."

Marco nodded.

"I know."

"Think it over carefully."

Marco looked up.

"I've thought it through."

Wayne nodded.

"Let's go together then. Meet at the church entrance the day after tomorrow morning."

Marco stood up.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

In the end, he simply nodded.

"it is good."

He turned and walked out.

As I reached the door, I paused.

He didn't turn around.

"Thank you for your help back then, Father."

After Marco left, no one came for a long time.

The side hall was so quiet you could hear sparrows fluttering their wings outside the window. Emma sat in a chair, swinging her legs, while Ella fiddled with her fingers, her head down. Wayne leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed, as if he were dozing.

The sun outside the window gradually rose higher and then gradually moved westward.

No one came.

Emma couldn't hold back any longer and asked in a low voice:

"Master, what if no one comes?"

Wayne said.

"If no one's around, the four of us will leave."

"However, we can wait a little longer..."

As he spoke, Wayne leisurely closed his eyes again.

……

Despite Wayne's image as a respectable priest over the years, to call him a devout believer would be a gross misjudgment.

Even the Pope is in that state.

How could he possibly still serve the gods wholeheartedly?

That's absolutely insane.

He had lived in this wretched place for twenty years and had seen far too many devout people. Some would kneel in the church, weeping their hearts out, and then turn around and break the legs of tenant farmers who were behind on rent. Some would attend church more diligently than anyone else, but secretly embezzle even their own nephew's inheritance.

Believe in God?

It's better to trust yourself.

As for why he still did those things.

The root cause is very simple.

Nine years of compulsory education made him turn righteousness into evil.

Just as Wayne was about to fall asleep, someone finally arrived.

There was another knock on the door.

Wayne looked up.

"Please come in."

The door opened.

He wasn't the homeless man he had imagined, nor a desperado, nor some suicidal citizen.

He was a seventeen or eighteen-year-old young man in a uniform.

He stood at the doorway and bowed slightly.

"Father Wayne, the lady requests your presence."

Wayne looked at him.

"Which lady?"

The young man looked up, a standard smile on his face.

"The City Lord's Mansion, Viscountess."

City Lord's Mansion.

Wayne certainly knew that lady.

She was in her early thirties, still quite attractive. Her husband was the lord of Audrian, who was often away fighting and rarely returned home. She came to the church once a month to "confess," and each time she spent confessing, she spent more time than others, and each time she left, her complexion was rosier than when she arrived.

She even gave him a jar of honey last month.

Wayne stood up.

Ella and Emma both looked at him.

"Owner……"

"Go back to your rooms and wait," Wayne said.

"I'll be back soon."

The two girls nodded.

Wayne followed the servants out.

Passing through the side aisle of the church and out of the archway, a carriage was parked outside. The carriage was dark-colored and not decorated much, but it was clearly made of good wood.

The attendant opened the car door.

Wayne got on the bus.

The carriage started moving, its wheels making a steady rumbling sound as they rolled over the cobblestones. Wayne leaned against the carriage wall, watching the street scene flash by outside the window.

The city lord's mansion is located in the east of the city, occupying a large area. The walls are very high, guards stand at the gate, and the iron gate is wide open, allowing carriages to drive directly inside.

We walked through the front yard and stopped in front of a detached house.

The attendant opened the car door.

"Father, please."

Wayne got off the bus.

A middle-aged maid stood at the entrance of the small building. Upon seeing him arrive, she bowed slightly and said, "Madam is waiting for you inside."

Wayne followed her inside.

After climbing the stairs, we stopped in front of a door on the second floor.

The maid knocked on the door.

"Madam, Father Wayne has arrived."

"Come in."

The sound came from inside the door.

The maid pushed open the door, and Wayne went inside.

The room was large and comfortably furnished. There were soft chairs, a low table, a roaring fire in the fireplace, and heavy curtains hanging by the window, blocking out the light.

The city lord's wife was sitting on a soft chair. When she saw him come in, she put down the cup in her hand.

"Father Wayne, please sit down."

Wayne sat down opposite her.

The woman looked at him, her gaze holding something indescribable: "I heard you're leaving the day after tomorrow?"

Wayne nodded.

"Yes."

The lady sighed.

"What a pity."

She paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I've called you here today because I have a favor to ask of you."

Wayne looked at her.

"Please speak, Madam."

The lady remained silent for a while.

“I have a niece,” she said. “She’s nineteen. Her parents are both gone, and she grew up with me. This girl… is a bit special.”

Wayne awaits the next installment.

But the lady stopped.

She didn't say what was "special" about him, but simply picked up her glass, took a sip, and shifted her gaze from his face to the flickering flames in the fireplace.

"She's made enemies," the lady said. "In the capital. It's not anything life-threatening, but they have some influence, and it's not safe for her to stay here. Since you're going to Frost Town, which is on your way, I'd like to ask you to take her with you."

Wayne looked at her.

"That's all?"

The lady paused.

That's all.

Wayne didn't speak.

Two seconds later, the panel popped up.

Name: Naya von Adrian

[Status: Viscountess]

[Actual age: 35 years old]

[Past: Before marriage, she was the daughter of a declining baron in the capital. She had been married to Audrian for fifteen years. Her husband was often away, leaving her to manage the city and the dozens of people in the manor. She was resourceful and intelligent, but had nowhere to use her talents.]

[Current Status: Lying. Her niece has not offended an ordinary enemy. Note: It's an earl.]

[Note 2: She didn't dare say the word "witch" directly, for fear of scaring you away.]

[Note 3: She really doted on that niece. So much so that she was willing to risk everything to beg a priest she had only met twelve times.]

After reviewing the panel, Wayne's gaze returned to the lady's face.

The lady held the cup, her fingers gripping it a little tightly.

Where is your niece now?

The lady's eyes lit up.

"She's next door. I told her to wait."

A side door next to the wall was pushed open.

"Come out."

A head peeked out from inside the door.

A girl with red hair, brown eyes, and a smile on her face popped out.

"Are you that priest?"