Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Srian frowned slightly.

Wayne called him "Feed," a nickname he didn't like.

"An ignorant junior."

His voice deepened, and his tone carried an air of arrogance.

"Remember my name. I am Srilian, the great fifth-tier wind elemental archmage of the Kingdom of Wiggins. The one who will kill you today is Srilian."

The panel popped up at this point.

[Srian - Character Information]

[Position: Chief Supper of the Earl of Bellino's Palace]

[Background: Born a commoner, he climbed to this position through talent and ruthlessness. In his youth, he studied at the Royal Capital Magic Academy, but was forced to drop out due to a conflict with his roommate over his sexual orientation. Later, he joined the noble system, securing his position as the chief retainer of the Earl's mansion with his beautiful wind blades and extremely low moral standards.]

[Note: His biggest regret in life wasn't failing to break through to the sixth rank, but that the senior he had a crush on in his youth still didn't know his name. His love letter was taken as a challenge by the senior, and the two got into a fight on the playground, where he broke three ribs.]

[Note 2: Srilian's personal life is a complete mess. He has been married three times. His first wife ran off with a bard, his second with his apprentice, and his third and current wife has an affair with Debon. He knows this, but pretends not to, because he fears dying alone.]

[Note: Debon is his hunting dog.]

Wayne, carrying the cross, listened to Srian's self-introduction without much change in expression, simply nodding.

"Srian, is that right?"

"Um."

"Nice name."

Srian was taken aback.

He didn't expect the other party to suddenly say that.

Wayne didn't give him much time to think. He put the cross off his shoulder, slammed it to the ground, and buried it deep in the earth.

"Grand Mage Srilian, I'll say it one last time. I'll protect that person. Now stop, go back to your count's manor, and pretend nothing happened today. I won't make things difficult for you, and you don't need to come looking for me."

Srian laughed after hearing this.

"You're going to protect him? What are you going to use to protect him? Your cross? Or your water film that even a pneumatic drill can't stop?"

He floated forward a step, looking down at Wayne with a cat-and-mouse-like ease in his voice.

"I admit, you do have some skill. To be able to shatter my wind drill with a fourth-tier body is already considered outstanding among your peers. But you need to understand, I am a fifth-tier. The gap between the fourth and fifth tiers cannot be bridged by a little skill and luck."

After hearing Srian's words, Wayne did not try to persuade him further.

Then he pulled out a bottle of dark red potion.

He tilted his head back and drank it down.

The moment the potion entered his throat, Wayne's battle aura surged violently as if it had been ignited.

Soon, Wayne's strength reached the late stage of the fourth tier.

Srilian's gaze shifted slightly.

"A potion to temporarily boost strength?"

He recognized the substance and said with disdain, "How long can you rely on external objects to forcibly enhance your strength? A quarter of an hour? Twenty-four minutes? Once the effects wear off, you might not even be able to stand up straight."

Wayne stretched his neck, making a soft clicking sound.

He did not answer Sriyan's question.

He simply tossed the empty potion bottle to the ground and then gripped the crucifix tightly in his hand.

"In that case, let's fight there."

The moment he finished speaking, Wayne's figure disappeared from the spot.

Srian's pupils contracted sharply.

So fast!

Without a second thought, almost instinctively he clasped his hands together in front of him, and a cyan wind shield instantly unfolded before him. The very next second the wind shield was formed, a cross wrapped in holy light slammed into its surface.

boom!

The force of the impact sent Srilian's body sliding several meters backward. He regained his footing, but before he could even catch his breath, Wayne's second strike followed.

This attack did not come from the front.

Instead, it's from the side.

Wayne's figure vanished from Srilian's sight for a moment, then reappeared without warning to his left, the cross swinging horizontally and slamming into his waist with a whooshing sound.

Srian reacted swiftly. At the last second, he detonated the defensive magic he had prepared beforehand. A ring of wind pressure exploded around his body, blocking Wayne's cross less than three inches from his waist.

But the impact still sent him flying.

Srian tumbled twice in the air, barely managing to steady himself. He staggered a couple of steps when he landed, his breathing noticeably more rapid than before.

He raised his head and looked at Wayne. The condescending composure in his eyes had largely faded, replaced by a look of seriousness and surprise.

With the addition of holy light and physical skills, plus a temporary boost to late-stage fourth-tier combat power, this young priest's actual combat strength far exceeded his initial assessment based on rank.

Wayne's figure disappeared from the spot again.

Srilian's pupils contracted, but this time he didn't panic. The instant Wayne vanished, he swung his right arm sharply, uttering a short syllable: "Hurricane."

A violent gust of air erupted from his body, rapidly swirling and rising upwards. In the blink of an eye, a tornado with a diameter of over five meters rose from the ground centered on him.

The wind wall spun at high speed, swirling up pebbles and broken branches from the ground, creating a series of dense, crashing sounds.

Wayne's cross slammed into the wind wall with a dull thud, but the wind wall only trembled slightly and showed no signs of being breached.

The tornado completely enveloped it.

Srian did not stop.

He pushed his hands forward again, and magic poured out from his palms. Five blue wind dragons detached from his fingertips and split into five independent tornadoes in the air, converging on Vayne from different directions.

Five tornadoes converged around Wayne, forming a stable encirclement. The wind walls intertwined, firmly locking Wayne in the center of the open space. The wind whipped his robes, and pebbles on the ground were whipped up, hitting the wind walls and bouncing back.

Wayne slammed the cross into the ground, driving it three feet deep, and gripped it tightly to steady himself. The wind pressure pressed in from all directions, tearing fine cracks in the ground beneath his feet.

In that instant, a sudden gust of strong wind lifted the storage bag at his waist, causing the opening to come undone and the contents to be swept out with a whoosh.

Several vials of potions were flung into the air, tumbled a few times in the wind, and then drifted toward Sriyan.

Srilian reached out and caught a small bottle that flew out of Wayne's storage bag. He glanced down at the liquid inside, then at the other bottles and jars floating in the air, a hint of disdain in his expression.

He casually crushed Wayne's potion bottle and looked at him nonchalantly.

"Trash."

Glass shards fell from his fingers.

He looked up at Wayne, who was surrounded by the tornado, and said with a hint of smugness, "Kid, just feel my wind pressure right here. Pray you survive."

After saying that, he turned around and quickly floated away in the direction where Marco had disappeared, his whole body being carried by a stream of blue air at an extremely fast speed.