Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

At this moment, Wayne not only changed into Saint Hilde's battle robes, but he also changed his appearance to resemble Andre through a magic potion.

He did not answer the man's warning immediately. Instead, he walked up to Marco, bent down, pulled out the cross stuck in the ground, slung it over his shoulder, and then spoke.

"Who I am is not important; what's important is that I'm protecting this person."

The middle-aged man's gaze sharpened slightly as he looked the young priest in front of him once more, then he breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, this was only a fourth-tier combat cultivator, and apparently a member of Saint Hilde.

In this way, he had nothing to fear.

"very good."

The middle-aged man saw Marco.

"It seems you not only killed the Earl's son, but also colluded with the heretics of St. Hilde. In that case, both of you will stay here today."

As soon as he finished speaking, his magical power surged dramatically.

Dozens of wind blades materialized out of thin air around him. Under his mental control, the wind blades quickly dispersed, forming a surrounding circle that enveloped both Wayne and Marco.

Each wind blade was aimed at the two men's vital points.

The middle-aged man raised his right hand and quickly closed his five fingers.

"die."

Wind blades were unleashed simultaneously.

Dozens of cyan arcs of light simultaneously slashed towards the center of the open space from all directions, blocking all escape routes.

Then Wayne moved.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, carrying the heavy cross, and charged straight at the middle-aged man amidst the swirling wind blades.

The wind blade slashed three feet in front of him.

But they couldn't break through.

A pale blue film of water appeared on his body. The wind blade struck the water film as if it had cut into a rapidly spinning vortex. The blade was deflected and slid past his sides.

Three paths.

Five paths.

Ten paths.

No water could penetrate that thin film.

The middle-aged man's pupils suddenly contracted.

He had seen defensive water magic.

But he had never seen anyone maintain a water elemental shield so precisely while charging at high speed.

The middle-aged man stared at the film of water, his gaze sharpening slightly.

"Dual cultivation of body and spirit?"

His tone held a hint of surprise, but he quickly regained his superior composure: "No wonder you dared to block my path with your fourth-tier physique. But... do you think you can challenge me beyond your level with that?"

He raised his right hand again, his five fingers spread.

"So what if you cultivate both a fourth-tier physical body and a magic body? The difference between the fifth and fourth tiers is beyond your imagination."

As soon as he finished speaking, the magic power gathering in his palm suddenly changed. It was no longer a sharp, single-target attack like a wind blade, but a much larger and more violent force.

He pressed his palm down.

"The Great Wind Dances".

The surrounding air instantly turbulent.

A violent gust of air exploded outwards from the middle-aged man, tearing off entire layers of grass and swirling gravel and broken branches into the wind, forming a high-speed rotating wall of air.

Wayne had only rushed halfway, and before he could even find his footing, the storm had already crashed into him head-on.

The wind pressure swept his body upwards, lifting him uncontrollably into the air. The sound of the wind filled his ears, and the tree canopy on the ground shrank into a small patch of green in his field of vision.

The last thing Wayne could see was the middle-aged man's figure hovering above the treetops.

He forcefully adjusted his posture in mid-air, holding the cross horizontally in front of his chest in an attempt to stabilize his center of gravity.

But the man's third spell has arrived.

"Pneumatic drill".

A massive, cone-shaped wind drill materialized before him, spinning rapidly with a piercing shriek as it slid diagonally upwards from the ground. The drill tip was aimed directly at the direction Wayne was falling, at a tricky angle and so fast that it gave him almost no time to react.

Wayne didn't have time to think.

He gripped the cross tightly with both hands, took a deep breath, and twisted his body in mid-air, channeling all his weight into his arms, before slamming it down.

The bottom of the cross struck the tip of the jackhammer precisely.

boom!

The two forces collided head-on in mid-air.

A visible shockwave exploded from the point of impact, sparks flying from the friction between the cross and the wind-blown drill. Wayne's body was thrown upwards by the immense recoil, but the drill itself shattered into scattered streams of air in the impact.

However, the cost is obvious.

Wayne's battle robe sleeves were torn by the wind blades, and several deep rips tore through the fabric, revealing his arms underneath, which had several fine bloodstains.

Wayne flipped in mid-air and barely landed, sliding back three or four steps before regaining his balance.

He glanced down at his tattered robe, then at the fine bloodstains on his arm.

Then he raised his head, looked at the middle-aged man opposite him, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Fifth tier, that's quite something."

The middle-aged man remained silent.

His gaze passed over Wayne and landed on the forest path behind him. There, Marco's figure was staggering away, having run about forty or fifty steps, and was stumbling deeper into the dense forest.

The middle-aged man chuckled.

"Run, little mouse. I'll deal with this heretic from St. Hilde first, then I'll come back for you. It doesn't matter if you run far away, I have plenty of time to torture you slowly."

The man's voice wasn't loud, but with the help of wind magic, Marco, who was running, could clearly hear what he said.

Marco paused for a moment. He didn't turn around or argue; he gritted his teeth and continued to drag his injured body forward.

He certainly heard those words.

But he knew even better that staying there wouldn't help him at all; he would only become a burden to Wayne. Every moment he stayed was creating uncertainty for Wayne.

So he had to run.

The farther he ran, the less Wayne had to worry about.

The panel popped up at this point.

[Battle Situation Assessment: Wayne vs. Wind Archmage]

[Rank Difference: Mid-Tier 4 vs. Mid-Tier 5. Your battle qi cultivation is around Mid-Tier 4. Without using Holy Light and Water Magic as trump cards, your chances of winning in a head-on confrontation are slim.]

[Note: Although the mage opposite you is verbally belittling you, he's already secretly mobilizing more magic power within him. What's that saying again? He talks a lot of nonsense about you, but his actions betray him as he unleashes multiple large-scale spells to attack you. He's a classic case of saying one thing and doing another.]

[Note 2: According to the assessment, after the Great Wind Dance and Wind Drill, his magic reserves were at least 80% remaining.]

[P.S.: You've really effective at drawing hatred by using Andrei's face. If Andrei himself knew someone was openly acting as a hero with that face, he'd probably be furious.]

Wayne took a liking to the middle-aged man.

"Hey, you over there... I'm your opponent..."