Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

A day for repentance.

From dawn to dusk, it was almost continuous.

The door to the confessional opened and closed, and people came in one after another. Some went in with dignified steps, but came out with unsteady steps; some went in with calm faces, but came out with flustered expressions; some went in neatly dressed, but came out with slightly disheveled hair.

What puzzled Andy the most was another phenomenon.

When those ladies went in, they would always leave some noise, the sound of a vase breaking—the broken pieces of the vase were cleared out of the confessional and sent out in handfuls.

The nuns at the church were in charge of the cleaning.

Andy spent the whole day running errands.

His main job today is to buy vases.

The first time it broke, he thought it was an accident.

He had a moment of doubt when he broke it the second time.

After breaking it for the third time, he thought he might not be fully awake.

The fourth time, the fifth time...

The sixth time.

He couldn't resist any longer and counted them.

There were a total of twenty-seven vases.

Andy stood at the end of the corridor, holding a shard of what appeared to be the umpteenth vase in his hands, his expression as if he had just eaten an unripe apricot.

He was puzzled.

Isn't it supposed to be a confession? What does confession have to do with a vase? Why does everyone who goes in have to break a vase?

Several other curious priests and nuns gathered around and asked him, "Andy, why have you been buying vases all day? Is Father Wayne doing something special?"

Andy shook his head, looking completely bewildered.

"I don't know either... Father Wayne didn't say."

But he remembered that Wayne had given an order before the confession began: no one was allowed to approach the area around the confessional, and no one was allowed to linger near the confessional.

However, it is normal for Wayne to say this. This is a long-standing tradition in the church. Confessors need absolute privacy, and the priest's duty is to keep their secrets.

Andy didn't think much of it; in fact, he took it even more seriously.

He made a special trip to Charman's office and recounted the entire day's events in detail. After listening, Charman was silent for a moment, then fell into deep thought. He rested his chin on his hand, his brow furrowed, and his gaze lingered on the void for a long time.

Then he slowly began to speak.

"I once read about a form of psychotherapy for repentance in an ancient book..."

Andy pricked up his ears.

"...It's called stress relief method."

Andy was stunned.

"Stress...relief methods?"

"Hmm." Charman nodded seriously. "It's said that some believers reach a breaking point in their emotions during confession. At this point, they need to release the pressure through some physical act. Breaking things is a common way to do this. It's called... um... cathartic therapy."

Andy only vaguely understood what the old bishop was saying, but since the old bishop spoke with such certainty, he no longer doubted it.

"I see... then those vases..."

"It is a necessary consumable."

Charman's tone left no room for argument.

Andy nodded in sudden understanding, a hint of respect even appearing in his eyes: "So this is how Father Wayne helps believers release their inner pressure... It's truly... truly ingenious."

Charman nodded with satisfaction: "So, go and buy twenty more vases to have on hand."

Andy nodded repeatedly, his eyes full of admiration: "I see... Then I'll prepare more tomorrow, so we won't run out."

Andy didn't leave immediately; he took another half step forward, his voice tinged with barely suppressed excitement:

"Your Excellency, I also tidied up the church's donation boxes today..."

Charman raised an eyebrow: "Oh?"

"Today's donations included more than forty gold coins and countless silver coins. Some ladies also donated jewelry and precious stones, which I have already registered."

He paused, his tone tinged with emotion.

"Since Father Wayne arrived, the church's income seems to have increased significantly. In just one day, it's almost equaled our income for the past two weeks."

Charman chuckled a few times after hearing this, and stroked his beard: "Wayne's theological talent is the highest I've ever seen. Without a doubt."

He looked at Andy, his gaze carrying a deeper meaning:

"Can you believe it? In Frosttown, four bishops died in a row, and almost no one was religious. The place was dirt poor, the church roof was leaky, and the believers couldn't even fill a single pew. But after Father Wayne went there, everyone started to believe. Even the mayor personally goes to church to worship."

Andy was surprised to find that the rumors were true.

Charman quickly changed the subject.

His voice was filled with barely suppressed anger.

"It's all that damned Casa's fault! If he hadn't transferred Father Wayne, he would still be Father Audrian! He wouldn't have to go to the capital to report for duty! He should be happily staying in this church right now!"

Andy stood there, not daring to say anything.

Charman took a few deep breaths, his chest heaving for a moment, then slowly sat back down, waving his hand wearily.

"Alright... go ahead and do your work. Also, all the church's proceeds today will go to Mr. Wayne."

"But, sir..."

"No buts!"

Listen to Charman's resolute words.

He bowed and quickly withdrew.

Andy was in a daze after he went outside.

Charman's words kept circling in his mind.

He had initially thought that Charman's regard for Wayne was at most a superficial level of respect. Giving him a room, providing some conveniences, and being polite upon meeting would already be considered a great favor. He never imagined that Charman would give Wayne all of the church's proceeds from that day, without keeping a single penny for himself. He also never expected that Wayne held such a significant place in Charman's heart.

On the other side, Wayne was lying on the bed, his limbs outstretched, completely relaxed.

Forty-seven.

In one day, forty-seven believers came to repent. This number itself is not frightening; what is frightening is that thirty-two of them came sincerely to give thanks to the Goddess.

Moreover, each of them felt that they had waited in line for so long and couldn't waste this opportunity; they felt they had to sincerely give thanks at least twice to make it worthwhile.

Wayne rolled over and changed his position.

"Goddess..."

He sighed softly.

"Your followers... are far too devout."

I'm really tired.

But the results are really good.

His tip today was an astonishing one hundred gold coins, including all sorts of rare items. At this rate, he estimated he would be able to take a considerable amount of gold coins with him when he left Adrian.

He even suspected that if he stayed in Audrey for another year or two, these believers would move half of their savings into the church.

The panel popped up at this point.

[Wayne - Current Status]

[Status: Physically tired but mentally alert. Slight lower back pain.]

[Comment: Although it was tiring to admit, you allowed forty-seven believers to experience the Goddess's grace today. You were also God's agent on earth today. The Goddess would probably be very happy to know.]

[Note: The most classic passage comes from Mrs. Lucy this afternoon. Guided by you, she bumped into her husband as soon as she stepped out of the confessional. He asked why she was sweating so much and her face was so red; she replied that she had been too absorbed in her confession. Her husband was very satisfied with her answer. In reality, her husband was also a member of a secret Minotaur cult. He had come to see Charman today.]

[Note 2: The dozen or so ladies who have been influenced by your magic are preparing to establish a small faith group to regularly share their experiences of divine grace. They are discussing whether to invite you to be the group's honorary advisor. They don't care that you will soon be going to the capital, because they also have houses there.]

[P.S.: There might be fewer people tomorrow.]