Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne read out the names of ten people.

Ten people, dozens of sins.

Every case has witnesses and physical evidence. Gleeve's black-covered ledger is now lying on the wooden box at Wayne's feet. On the open page, the ink is clear, with dates, numbers, names, and methods of disposal, all neatly arranged in rows.

Some people in the crowd started to cry.

They are the families of the villagers who were harmed.

Not long after, Wayne finished reading the last crime.

"Of the eight people sentenced to be burned at the stake, the remaining twelve will be imprisoned for thirty days and then deported, never to set foot in the Kingdom of Wiggins again."

Wayne turned around and looked at one side of the open space.

Andrei was standing there.

He was kept alone in an iron cage, not tied to an iron stake. The cage wasn't large, just big enough for one person to stand in. It was made of welded iron bars, exactly the same as the prison cart used to hold the villagers the night before.

Wayne walked up to the cage.

"Mr. Andrei."

Andrei raised his head.

His face was expressionless.

"You heard everything your men did."

Andrei didn't say anything.

"As the team leader, you should do something."

Andrei's lips moved slightly.

"What do you want me to do?"

Wayne looked at him.

"Set the first fire."

Andrei's pupils contracted sharply.

"impossible."

"impossible?"

"I, Andre Claire, would rather die than harm my comrades."

Wayne looked at him.

"You don't want bad people to die, so you want good people to die?"

Andrei frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Wayne turned his head to look at the outer edge of the crowd. There stood several women, dressed in St. Hilde's white robes, but the robes were covered in dust.

They were nuns and clerical staff in the missionary team; they did not participate in the arrests, the drugging, or even know what Gleevec and his men were doing. They simply followed the team, responsible for laundry, cooking, and copying scriptures.

"I counted, and in your group, there are eight people whose hands haven't been stained with blood. Five innocent nuns, two innocent clerical staff, and a fool like you."

"What are you going to do?!"

"Andrei said angrily."

Wayne didn't pay much attention.

"Andrei, I'm only giving you two choices now."

His voice wasn't loud.

"First, you set fire to these people who deserved to be burned. Although what these eight people did was their own doing, you are also involved. Evil began to grow around you, and it should end with you."

Wayne raised his second finger.

"second."

His gaze fell on Greve.

"I'll give him a chance. Let him choose eight people from among you. Whoever he chooses, I'll release. I'll trade the lives of innocent people for his own."

Andrei's pupils suddenly contracted.

"you……!"

"It's shameless, isn't it?" Wayne's tone remained unchanged. "Trading someone else's life for your own is shameless. But if you put the choice in the hands of evil people, this is what they will definitely do."

Andrei's lips were trembling.

"Wayne, you are not fit to be a priest."

"Perhaps." Wayne lowered his head, looking at the back of his hand. "But the goddess has given me the choice, which means she approves of how I handled it. Where is your goddess? Is she in your heart? In your emblem? Or in your dreams?"

Wayne looked away.

"Either you do it, or let him do it."

"Is that all?"

"Andrei, you have no choice."

Greve couldn't hear what Wayne and Andrei were saying.

He could only see their mouths moving, see Andrei's expression change from anger to dejection, and see Wayne remain calm.

He became increasingly panicked.

That panic wasn't fear; it was his body sensing danger before his mind could process it. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushed to his head, and his fingers began to tremble.

"Bishop Wayne! Bishop Wayne!"

His voice roared from his throat.

"Listen to me! Listen to me! I'll do anything! I'll do anything! I can tell you all the secrets I know! The secrets of St. Hilde! The secrets of the Inquisition! The Crusader's defenses! I know it all! I can tell you everything!"

Wayne didn't look at him.

Greve then turned to Andrei.

"My lord! My lord, please say something for me! I've served you for eight years! Eight years! Even if I haven't done anything great, I've certainly put in the hard work! You can't just stand by and watch me die!"

Andrei stood in the cage, remaining silent.

The other seven people sentenced to be burned at the stake also began to panic.

"I was wrong! I was really wrong! Gleevec made us do it! He forced us to!"

"I was forced into this! If I quit, he threatened to transfer me back to St. Hilde! I don't want to go back to St. Hilde! There's no future there!"

"Your Excellency, spare me! Your Excellency, spare me!"

Cries, shouts, and pleas for mercy were all mixed together.

Wayne extended his hand.

Babaka came up from behind and handed him a torch. The torch was well-oiled, and the flame flickered in the night wind, with sparks falling down.

Wayne held the torch and didn't move.

People around started shouting.

"Burn them!"

"Burn these sons of bitches!"

"Don't let a single one escape!"

The shouts came in waves.

Wayne also started the countdown.

"five!"

"Four!"

Just as Wayne's second finger was about to fall.

"I choose one!"

"I choose one," he repeated, "Let me out. Give me the torch."

Wayne looked at him for a couple of breaths. Then he turned his head and nodded to Babacar.

Babaka walked to the iron cage, took the key from his waist, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. The sound of the spring snapping open was particularly crisp in the quiet night, and the cage door opened.

Andrei stepped out of the cage.

"Give me."

Wayne handed him the torch.

"You knew all along that I would choose option one."

Wayne didn't say anything.

"You knew from the beginning." Andrei's voice trembled. "You knew I wouldn't let Gleeve choose, you knew I'd rather do it myself than give him the choice, you knew I..."

He stopped.

His lips trembled twice, and he didn't say anything more.

"Are you finished?" Wayne looked at him. "If you are, then start igniting the first fire of judgment!"

Andrei walked over, holding the torch.

Gleeve's voice was forced out from his throat: "My lord! My lord, you can't! I've served you for eight years!"

Andrei paused for a moment.

Greve's eyes were bloodshot: "My lord! Think of those years! The days we spent together in St. Hilde! You can't do this to me!"

Andrei didn't say anything.

He took another step forward.

"My lord! I beg you! I beg you!"

Gleeve's face was covered in tears and snot.

"I still have my elderly mother at home!"

Andrei stopped in front of Greve.

The torch was held high in the air.

Greve looked up, the tear tracks on his face glistening in the firelight: "My lord... you said... you said you would take us all back to St. Hilde... you said..."

Andrei's eyes reddened.

The torch was pushed forward a little.

The flames licked the firewood.

The dry branches were set ablaze.

Gleeve's cries turned into howls:

"No--!"

The fire spread very quickly.

He leaped from one pile of firewood to another, darted from one stake to another. The flames rolled in the night wind, illuminating the entire clearing in a fiery red.

A wave of heat hit us.

The shouts of ten people mingled together.