Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Emma peeked out from behind Wayne, her transparent silhouette faintly visible in the moonlight, her voice muffled.

"Master, is this Demonic Wind Powder very powerful?"

"Um."

"Even more powerful than your potions?"

"They're different." Wayne took the porcelain bottle back and tapped it lightly with his finger. "My potions are for healing, this one is for killing."

Emma said "Oh" and didn't ask any more questions.

The Demon Wind Powder is considered a forbidden drug because its formula is too simple and its raw materials are too easy to obtain. A few common herbs, plus the saliva of abyssal monsters, are mixed in proportion, boiled, filtered, and concentrated, and a batch can be produced in three days.

The effect is ridiculously strong.

Below the fifth level, as long as a sufficient dose is inhaled, the entire body will be paralyzed within three breaths, the five senses will be dulled, and the limbs will be weak. It is not poison, it does not damage the meridians, and it does not harm the foundation. After the effect wears off, one can continue doing whatever one normally does. But in this half-quarter of an hour, those who have been poisoned by the Demonic Wind Powder cannot even move a finger and can only be slaughtered at will.

Various forces on the mainland once joined forces to eradicate this potion. The Vatican provided personnel, various countries sent troops, and the Alchemists' Guild provided the formula for identification. The three parties worked together for three years, burning down hundreds of production and sales sites and hanging hundreds of people.

But it persists despite repeated bans.

It wasn't because the manufacturers and sellers were fearless; it was because the demand was enormous. Nobles wanted to use it to outwit their rivals, armies wanted to use it to capture prisoners, and bandits wanted to use it to rob caravans. Everyone wanted it, and everyone was willing to pay a high price. Where there's demand, there's a market; where there's a market, there are people willing to take the risk.

The reason Lance's paladin squad was able to be drugged by the human traffickers was because they used Magic Wind Powder. All seven men, each with combat strength of at least Tier 3, were knocked to the ground by a few wisps of white smoke, unable even to draw their swords.

Wayne pulled the stopper off the porcelain bottle.

With the bottle mouth facing down, grayish-white powder poured out and scattered in the night wind, silent, colorless, and odorless.

The powder was blown away by the wind and drifted inside the cave.

"Step back."

Everyone took a half step back.

A muffled thud echoed from deep within the mountains, like something falling from a height and crashing onto a stone slab. Then came a second, a third. And then more, one after another, like dominoes falling one after another.

No one shouted.

No one warned them.

No one made a sound.

The effect of the Demon Wind Powder was even better than expected.

Wayne put the empty bottle into his storage bag.

"Walk."

He walked at the front, his pace neither fast nor slow. Emma and Ella followed behind him, their transparent silhouettes appearing and disappearing in the darkness.

The mine is bigger than I imagined.

The abandoned mine shafts were transformed into a gang's stronghold. The main hall of the mine area was expanded several times over, and torches were stuck in the cave walls, illuminating the entire area.

People were lying haphazardly in the hall.

Some were slumped over the table, some leaned against the wall, and some curled up on the ground. Wine glasses and dishes were scattered all over the floor, and wine dripped from the table, soaking the dry grass.

"My lord, the entrance to the stone hall is at the very back of the hall. Turn left and go through a narrow passage. Feru and a few leaders are drinking inside. The amount of demonic wind powder that drifted in wasn't enough; they might still be able to move."

Wayne glanced at Diaz.

"Lead your men in from the front of the hall. As you go in, finish them off as you go. Everyone inside deserves to die; don't hold back."

"Understood, sir."

He turned around and gestured to the mercenaries behind him. More than thirty transparent silhouettes silently spread out in the firelight, advancing in a fan shape into the depths of the hall.

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh was exceptionally clear in the empty cave, like a butcher chopping meat on a chopping board, one cut after another. There were no screams, no pleas for mercy, and even muffled groans were rare.

The effects of the Demonic Wind Powder left these bandits too weak to even cry out in pain. They could only feel a chill on their necks in a half-dreaming, half-awake state before they knew nothing more.

The stone hall at the deepest part of the mine is larger than the rest.

Four people were sitting around the stone table.

Sitting in the very center is Ferru.

Feru's pupils contracted slightly in the firelight.

"Who is it? Show yourself!"

Feru could see the invisible blood and qi of everyone in his eyes.

He stood up unsteadily.

"Was this your doing?"

Wayne emerged from the shadows at the entrance to the stone hall. The invisibility potion had just finished working, and his figure slowly appeared from the transparency.

"Who we are is not important." Wayne stopped a few steps away from the stone table, his gaze sweeping over Fairu's face and then over the other three gang leaders who were struggling to their feet. "What is important is that you shouldn't have set your sights on Frost Town."

Ferru's pupils contracted sharply. He had heard of this name before; the intelligence Dalton had given them described him as the Bishop of Frosttown, a third-tier clergyman, utterly powerless. But the aura emanating from the person standing before him was clearly that of a mid-fourth-tier clergyman, and far more substantial than any other mid-fourth-tier clergyman he had ever seen.

"Are you the bishop of Frosttown?"

"Yes."

"You're not at level three?"

Wayne didn't answer the question, but glanced at Emma. Emma stepped out from behind him, her hands clasped in front of her, a ball of orange-red flame lighting up half of her face.

"My master said you are bad people." Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear: "Bad people deserve to die."

Ferru shifted his gaze from Wayne to the orange-red flame in Emma's palm.

He revealed a set of yellowed teeth.

"A little girl like you dares to play with fire in front of me?"

He slammed his hand on the stone table, causing the wine glass to bounce half an inch and spill wine. He sprang up from the stone bench, grabbed the machete from the table with his right hand, and lunged towards Emma.

It was incredibly fast, unlike someone who had been poisoned by the Demonic Wind Powder. The cleaver left a cold trail in the firelight, heading straight for Emma's face.

Emma did not back down.

It's not that I'm not afraid, it's that I don't have time to be afraid.

Feru's cleaver stopped in mid-air.

He didn't stop on his own; something hit him from the side and wrapped around his arm. Blue ice crystals started spreading from the tip of the blade, crawling up the blade to the hilt, then up his wrist, and finally up his forearm.

The ice crystals spread at an astonishing speed; in the blink of an eye, his entire right arm was frozen into a blue icicle.

Ferru's pupils contracted sharply.

He tried to pull his hand away, but his arm wouldn't obey him. The ice crystals had frozen not only his skin and muscles, but also his joints; his elbows, wrists, and the knuckles of every finger were all locked, making him unable to move.

Feru looked down at his body as it was frozen inch by inch, like a mountain being swallowed by ice and snow.

"What...what is this...?"

Ella stepped out from behind her.

"elder sister!"

Emma was still shaken.

If it weren't for Ella, she would likely have died at the hands of Falcon—and if Wayne hadn't been there either.