Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne walked to the stone table, sat down, picked up the bowl of porridge, and took two sips. The porridge was at the perfect temperature.

He put down the bowl.

"This potion of mine isn't suitable for you right now, but you can still give it a try."

Marco shook his head and gave a wry smile.

"My lord, I understand. Refining magic potions is not 100% successful; the risks are very high. With my current physique, it's impossible for me to achieve a breakthrough through magic potions."

The panel then appeared.

[Marco's Physical Condition - Additional Information]

[Test Results: Early Stage 4, overall physical function declined by about 20% after the arm was severed. Bone density, muscle strength, and meridian resilience are all below the average level of warriors of the same stage. The main reason is not the severed arm itself, but the months of travel and mental exhaustion that followed. He gave himself almost no time to recover.]

[Potion Compatibility: Low. Not completely unusable, but the effect will be greatly reduced. For an ordinary warrior, the success rate of taking a fourth-tier body-tempering potion is about 60%. For Marco, the success rate is less than 20%. Furthermore, failure could result in anything from a drop in rank to the complete severing of his meridians.]

[Note 2: He's more concerned about the potion you mentioned before, the one that could help him break through to the late fourth tier in a short time.]

Marco rubbed his hands together and said.

"Sir, um..."

Before Marco could finish speaking, Wayne interrupted him.

"The potion I promised you is ready."

Marco's eyes suddenly lit up, like two lit oil lamps. He braced his right hand on the table, leaned forward, and sprang half an inch off the stone bench.

"Sir, are you telling the truth?"

"When have I ever lied to you?"

Marco's lips began to tremble.

Wayne pulled a porcelain bottle from his sleeve. The bottle was dark red and larger than a regular potion bottle. The mouth of the bottle was sealed with silver wax, and there was a stamp on the wax seal, which was Wayne's unique mark.

He placed the porcelain bottle on the stone table and pushed it forward.

"Top-grade Blood-Boosting Potion, Tier 4 version. After consuming it, your strength will break through to the late Tier 4 stage in a short period of time. Not the mid-Tier 4 stage, but the late Tier 4 stage."

Marco reached out his hand, then pulled it back. He looked up at Wayne.

"Sir, what price is required for this medicine?"

"I told you, I might die."

"I am not afraid of death."

"But your daughter doesn't want you to go and die."

Marco's hand paused.

Wayne looked at him.

"If you want revenge, I won't stop you. But you have to come back alive. Your daughter is watching you from heaven. She doesn't want to see her father brought back as a corpse. She wants to see him alive, to finish the journey she didn't complete."

Marco's eyes reddened, and he gripped the deep red porcelain bottle tightly in his right hand.

"My lord, I promise you. I will definitely come back alive."

"However, don't forget that you also have to teach Aya."

Marco tucked the porcelain bottle into his robes, patted his chest, and let out two muffled thuds: "My lord, rest assured. Aya is exceptionally talented; she'll definitely break through to the first tier of strength in less than a month. No, in less than half a month."

"Half a month?"

"Half a month." Marco's tone was certain. "That child is the most talented swordsman I've ever seen. He learned all the basic sword techniques in one day, and started figuring out variations on his own after three days. Give him another half a month, and reaching the first rank won't be a problem."

Footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

Thomason came running out from around the corner, his steps hurried, his collar askew, and his forehead covered in sweat. He reached Wayne, put his hands on his knees, and gasped for breath.

"S-Sir..."

"Take your time."

Thomason took a couple of breaths and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand: "Sir, the relocation time has been set. The entire town will be evacuated in three days."

"Three days?"

Wayne's brow twitched slightly.

"Three days." Thomason nodded. "The news from the province of Bellino says it's an order from the kingdom for Frost Town and several surrounding villages to move in unison and depart simultaneously in three days. The kingdom will set up supply points along the way, and there will be people to settle us in Bellino City."

He paused, then lowered his voice.

"However, sir, there is also bad news."

"explain."

"Since the news of the relocation spread, the bandits around the area have become increasingly rampant. I don't know who spread the word, but they said that the mining areas around Frost Town are incredibly rich, and every household has hidden gold. Now, several bandit groups in the area have their eyes on us."

Thomason grew angrier as he spoke, his fists clenching so tightly they cracked.

"These sons of bitches usually hide in the mountains and dare not come out, but now that they hear we're moving, they all come out. They know we're taking all our belongings with us when we move, so they can easily rob us on the way."

The panel then appeared.

[Frosttown - Source of Rumors]

[Disseminator: Dalton, Archbishop Auxiliary of the Diocese of Bellino, Casa's brother.]

[Method of dissemination: Through his network of connections in the Bellino parish, the message was passed down layer by layer to the ears of bandits in the border region. He did not directly contact any bandits, but instead spread the rumor that "Frosthamny is rolling in money" through intermediaries. The message passed through three or four layers of intermediaries, and its original source was long lost to history.]

[Purpose: To kill you. He knows the kingdom's relocation order is unstoppable, and the evacuation of Frosttown is inevitable. But he can manipulate things along the way. Bandit attacks are unavoidable, and casualties are inevitable. If you die among the bandits, no one will hold you accountable. Even if someone does, it will be the bandits' fault, what does it have to do with Dalton?]

[Note: Dalton is unaware that you have broken through to the mid-stage of the fourth tier. In his database, you are still a defenseless border priest. He believes your chances of survival against a combined attack by several bandit groups are extremely low. As for the widely circulated story of repelling St. Hilde, he is more inclined to believe that it was your accomplices who did it.]

After looking at the panel, Wayne turned his gaze back to the panel.

Thomason stood across the stone table, still cursing.

"These bastards, they're used to bullying the people of Frost Town, and now they won't even let us move in peace..."

Wayne raised his hand.

Thomason stopped speaking.

Wayne turned his head to look at Marco.

"Did you ever deal with bandits when you were in the North?"

Marco nodded.

"I've fought them. The bandits in the North are much more ruthless than those around Frosttown. Those people actually kill, they don't just rob."

"So, what do you think the bandits around Frost Town are like?"

Marco thought for a moment.

"There are four or five bandit gangs around Frost Town, large and small. The largest one is called 'Headless,' and it is said to have more than a hundred people. The bandit leader is a late-stage fourth-tier warrior, and there are several early-stage fourth-tier warriors or mages among them. The other gangs are smaller, ranging from thirty to fifty people, and their leaders are mostly first or second-tier, so they are not a threat."

He paused.

Wayne straightened his cuffs.

"The whole town will be evacuated in three days. If those bandits want to rob us, let them come."

Marco watched Wayne's retreating figure.

"Sir, what do you intend to do?"

Wayne turned his head away.

"Go and fetch Diaz and Wilford. Since they're coming, they're not going back."

Marco stood up from the stone bench.

"Yes, sir."