Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Time quickly passed to the next day.

Wayne was woken up by being touched.

He thought it was Emma.

The two little ones have recently developed a habit of climbing into the bed, doing it every few days. He rolled over, wanting to change his position and continue sleeping.

The hand paused for a moment, then became even bolder.

Wayne didn't pay attention.

I'm always full of energy in the morning.

But today...

strangeness?!

This hand isn't Emma's, it's not Ella's!

Who is it?

He didn't have time to react.

The hand reached out from the shadows and precisely locked onto Wayne's throat.

Wayne instantly regained consciousness!

What's going on?!

The panel popped up.

[Emily Shadow Raid Report]

[Activating Ability: Shadow Leap - Partial Version. She was still lying on her bed in her room, only extending one hand. This was a tactic she had thought about all night; since extending her whole body would be nerve-wracking, she would only extend one hand. She had done it that way last time.]

[Current status: Under investigation. Her first reaction was: Is that a hand? Second reaction: Wait...]

[Note: She was a little stunned. She told herself: This was an accident, I didn't mean to…]

[Conclusion: She likes this kind of surprise]

Twenty minutes later.

Wayne sat on the edge of the bed, his robes neatly arranged, collar buttoned up, and belt fastened properly. If it weren't for the few extra wrinkles on the sheets, nothing would have seemed amiss.

It's not a problem with his hands, it's a problem with him. Eating and desire are human nature. He never considered himself a saint, nor did he ever think it was necessary. The goddess gave him this body, gave him what he wanted to eat, and gave him the person he desired. If he didn't eat or want them, that wouldn't be noble, it would be disrespectful to the goddess.

Ok.

He admitted that he seemed to have grown somewhat fond of this world; he seemed to... quite like this absurdity.

Compared to his previous life, which was predictable and predictable, the absurdity of this world at least made him feel that living was interesting.

Wayne looked in the direction where the shadow had disappeared.

He was silent for a moment.

They run pretty fast.

Wayne looked at the newly risen sun.

Hmm... I should go out now.

Wayne turned away from the window and pushed open the door.

The corridor was quiet. He walked through the corridor, pushed open the side door, and entered the courtyard.

Vera was already busy in the kitchen.

Smoke rose from the chimney, stretching into a thin white line in the morning light, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread, and slowly spreading through the yard.

Emma squatted by the well, holding a toothbrush cup in her hand, rinsing her mouth with water. Ella stood beside her, her hair uncombed, draped over her shoulders, clutching a wooden comb and struggling with the tangled ends.

When Emma saw Wayne come out, she spat out the water in her mouth.

Good morning, Master!

"morning."

Wayne walked over and took the wooden comb from Ella's hand. Ella paused for a moment, looked up at him, a little shy.

"Turn around," Wayne said.

Ella obediently turned around, her back to him.

Wayne inserted the comb into her hair and began combing downwards, starting from the ends. When he couldn't untangle the knots, he pinched the top of the knots with his fingers and gently shook them a couple of times to loosen them. Ella stood ramrod straight, motionless, even her breathing was soft.

"Master," she said softly.

"Um."

"Have you ever combed anyone's hair before?"

Wayne's hand paused for a moment.

He thought of Tessa.

That winter, he combed Tessa's hair many times. Her hair was long, as black as ink, and as smooth as satin. Each time he finished combing it, he would apply a little hair oil to the ends.

During those ten days, he did more than just comb his hair.

"Yes, a long time ago," he said.

Ella didn't ask any more questions.

Wayne combed the last strand of hair, gently brushed the ends with a wooden comb, and let the hair fall naturally.

"alright."

Ella touched her hair, from the top to the bottom; it was smooth and silky, without a single tangle. She turned around and bowed to Wayne.

"Thank you, Master."

Wayne handed the comb back to her and reached out to ruffle her hair. Ella's hair, which she had just finished combing, bounced up a few strands after he ruffled it, but she didn't mind. She clutched the comb to her chest, her ears red and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile.

Emma watched the whole thing from the side. She put her toothbrush cup on the ground, ran over, and looked up at Wayne.

"Master, I want one too."

Wayne looked at her.

Your hair isn't tangled.

Emma's hair was indeed not tangled.

Her hair was shorter than Ella's, only reaching her shoulders, and she didn't usually comb it much, just running her fingers through it a couple of times. But Wayne still picked up the comb, squatted down, and started combing Emma's hair from the top down, strand by strand.

Emma stood there obediently, unusually quiet.

The comb slid from root to tip of her hair, and her head swayed gently twice, like a blade of grass swaying in the wind. She squinted her eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up, revealing an expression of pure enjoyment.

"Is it comfortable?" Wayne asked.

"Comfortable."

"Is it different from when you comb your hair yourself?"

"That must be much more comfortable," Emma said matter-of-factly. "It's tiring and painful to comb my hair myself, but it doesn't hurt at all when my owner combs it."

Wayne didn't reply. He combed the last strand of hair and gently brushed the ends of his hair twice with a wooden comb.

"alright."

Emma touched her hair, running it from the top to the ends; it was smooth and silky. She turned around and kissed Wayne.

"Thank you, Master."

They kissed and then ran away.

Vera poked her head out from the kitchen.

"Sir, breakfast is ready. Please come in and eat."

"They're here."

Breakfast was laid out on the small table in the kitchen. The bread was cut into thick slices, toasted until crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, and topped with bright red jam that glistened in the morning light. The milk was warm, and Vera, worried about burning the two little ones, let it cool down a bit before serving it.

Emma sat opposite Wayne, holding a slice of bread in her hand. She took a big bite, her cheeks puffed out, and jam smeared on the corner of her mouth, forming a red blob.

"Master, where are we going today?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Then let's stay in the church?"

"Um."

……

Meanwhile, inside the Witch Cult's room.

Emily's current state:

My mind went completely blank.

All the plans and meticulous arrangements have been forgotten.

She messed everything up due to her clumsiness.

Throughout the entire process, she acted like a comical clown.

As a result, before he even got there, his mind went blank.

Only one thought remained: ?

However, today was not a fruitless endeavor; after a long period of maintenance, the ability to leap through shadows has been greatly improved.

But she didn't care about improving her abilities.

She was concerned about something else.

He just checked and it seems the hand cream Dora gave her has expired. She always kept it by her bedside, but she found it too oily and never used it, which is a shame.

She used it this morning.