Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne was surrounded, his arms were being attacked from both sides, and someone was pressing against him from behind.

One of the girls said, "Father, you are a rare guest in our Audrian community. We miss you dearly, please let us get closer to you."

The panel popped up at this point.

[The effect of rumor spread]

[Status: Widely circulated in Audrian's brothel circle. Any woman who has had intimate contact with Father Wayne will experience a month of good fortune.]

[Note: The story originated with the girls here. Ever since you cured their illness, the shop's business has doubled. They firmly believe it's a blessing you brought them.]

[Note 2: The reason why the girls on Greenbird Street were accepted into Audrian's largest brothel was partly due to you. The local girls believed that women who had received your favor were generally quite lucky.]

After reading the panel, Wayne sighed inwardly.

They do have a rich imagination.

He patted the girls briefly on the shoulders, politely stepped aside through the crowd, and asked as he went, "Which room is Mayor Wilford in?"

The madam also hurriedly came downstairs.

"Sir, go upstairs to the third room on the left, I'll take you there."

The girls were a little reluctant to see him go, but seeing that Wayne was there on business, they tactfully made way for him. Someone called out from behind him, "Father, remember to come down and sit for a while when you're done! I'll make you some tea!"

Wayne didn't turn around, but waved his hand in response. He followed the madam upstairs to the second floor. The door to the room at the end of the corridor was ajar, and a strong smell of alcohol wafted from inside.

The room wasn't small, but it looked rather messy at the moment. The sheets were crumpled, a pillow was on the floor, and several wine glasses were scattered haphazardly on the edge of the table.

Wilford, covered only by a thin blanket, lay on his back in the middle of the bed in an extremely undignified posture, his face pale.

The madam stood at the door, her expression a mixture of anxiety and fear.

"Father, we've already called several doctors this morning, and they all say there's nothing they can do. One old doctor said it's due to excessive depletion of vital energy, which has damaged the body's foundation, and I'm afraid... I'm afraid he won't last much longer."

Her voice was pleading.

"Sir, you must help this gentleman! If something really happens to him here, how will our shop... ever do business again?"

Wilford's panel popped up at this moment.

[Wilford - Current Status]

[Diagnosis: Excessive depletion of vital essence]

[Note: His indulgence this time wasn't simply a pre-departure celebration. A secretive cult of powerful figures contacted Wilford last night. He felt a strong connection to this cult he had joined years ago, and he drank quite a bit during the meal, immediately agreeing to swear an oath of allegiance to the organization.]

[Note 2: His informant, who was planted near Celine, reported to him that Lady Celine had been calling his name repeatedly in her sleep recently. Wilford, upon learning this, was delighted, and desire stirred within him.]

[Note 3: He viewed this outrageous act of "ordering ten girls at once" as a pledge of allegiance after reconnecting with the organization. He believed it was a demonstration of his loyalty and influence to the sect.]

Wayne stood by the bed, looking at Wilford's deathly pale face, and remained silent for a long while.

He didn't have any ill feelings towards the town mayor.

It could even be said that he held Wilford in high regard.

Although this man had many flaws—a womanizer, a heavy drinker, and sometimes not very bright—he never let anyone down when it mattered most. During the relocation of Frosttown, Wilford ran around doing everything, organizing the team by day and patrolling the camp at night, showing even more dedication than his own guards.

Moreover, this person possesses a most precious quality:

He knows how to be grateful.

Wayne had saved him four times, and he remembered it and had always repaid her in his own way. For that reason alone, Wayne couldn't bear to watch him die here.

He pulled a vial of potions from his pocket and uncorked it. With one hand, he pried open Wilford's chin, and with the other, he held the vial to Wilford's lips and slowly poured the potion in.

As the potion entered his mouth, Wilford swallowed instinctively. A few breaths later, his complexion visibly regained some color. His breathing, which had been barely perceptible, became more steady and forceful.

Wayne withdrew his hand and stuffed the empty bottle back into his pocket.

However, he was not fully cured.

To be precise, he deliberately held back at a crucial point—Wilford's sexual prowess had not fully recovered.

He controlled his recovery to the point where he could "live a normal life, but not cause a scene like last night." Within six months, even if Wilford wanted to, he wouldn't be able to patronize ten girls again.

Wilford opened his eyes groggily.

He mumbled incoherently, unable to speak.

It seemed as if he saw the bishop come to rescue him again.

Wayne looked down at Wilford's gradually calming face and said softly, "I'll give you six months to take good care of yourself." He paused, a hint of helplessness in his voice, "Otherwise, you'll ruin yourself sooner or later."

Wayne reached out and pulled up the blanket.

After these two days, he has confirmed that the town mayor is a genuine fan of entertainment.

This quirk... Wayne really couldn't understand it.

He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Downstairs, the girls were still outside the door; seeing him come out, they swarmed around him again.

"Sir, how is it? How is it?"

"Is Mr. Wilford alright?"

Wayne raised his hand and pressed it down: "He won't die. Let him lie down and rest for half a day, he should wake up in the afternoon. After he wakes up, give him some porridge, don't give him alcohol, and don't cause him any trouble."

The girls all nodded.

The madam squeezed through the crowd, her face full of gratitude as she grasped Wayne's hand: "Father, you are truly a savior to our establishment! From now on, whenever you come to Audrian, as long as you step through my door, everything will be free!"

Wayne withdrew his hand and smiled politely: "No need for that. Take good care of him, I'll send someone to pick him up and bring him back to the team first thing tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry, don't worry, we'll take good care of him and make sure he's healthy and chubby!"

Wayne nodded, turned and walked out of the store.

The sunlight outside was a bit dazzling. He squinted and walked back along the street towards the church. Thomason followed behind him, took a few steps, hesitated, and finally couldn't help but catch up, lowering his voice to ask, "Sir, you just said... about the mayor... about letting him rest for six months... what did you mean?"

Wayne turned his head and glanced at him.

Thomason shrank his neck and quickly waved his hand:

"I'm just curious... curious..."

Wayne looked away and continued walking forward.

"...Is it hard to understand?"

Thomason shook his head repeatedly.

"No, no, no, I completely understand. Everyone has their own quirks. I just didn't expect that Mayor Wilford, who seems like such a rugged person, would go to this extent. But a six-month break is always a good thing."