Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

After Freddy released the control over the Word of Power, Dalton staggered and had to lean on a nearby pillar to steady himself.

Freddy had long since disappeared from the church.

Dalton stumbled out of the church, without stopping or saying hello to anyone. He walked through several streets before stopping in front of a small building. He raised his hand and knocked three times, two lightly and one heavily—the pre-arranged signal between him and Ben.

Inside the room, a young man was reclining on a deck chair by the window, holding a glass of red wine.

He saw the expression on Dalton's face as he walked in, and a smile crept onto Ben's lips: "What's wrong, honey? You look so pale?"

Dalton strode up to him, knelt down, grabbed Ben's arms with both hands, and said in a trembling voice, "Ben... you have to help me this time, you have to save me."

"Don't rush, tell me slowly. What happened?"

Dalton took a deep breath and recounted, haltingly, what had just happened in the hall—from the orange glow detected by the anti-magic stone, to Wayne's counterattack, and then to Freddy's pronouncement of the Goddess's Judgment; he told it all without missing a single word.

"Ben... I'm going to face him in the deathmatch arena in three days... He's a combat-type bishop who can single-handedly kill a fourth-tier demon. How could I, a third-tier support, possibly be his match? You must ask your father to help me."

After listening, Ben picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and then slowly said, "Honey, don't be in such a hurry. My father already told me about this beforehand."

Dalton's eyes lit up immediately.

"What did he say?"

"This is all part of his plan. When you duel him, he will use the power of words to bless your combat strength, allowing you, who is currently in the late stage of the third tier, to temporarily break through to the mid stage of the fourth tier."

Dalton was stunned: "Fourth-tier...mid-stage?"

Ben nodded: "Yes. A mid-stage fourth-tier fighter might not be able to beat that Wayne completely, but at least he won't be instantly killed. Besides, I believe the person behind you won't abandon you. You can go find that person; he will definitely do everything he can to help you."

Dalton's breathing calmed down a bit.

"You're right... I still have a way out." He paused, looked at Ben, and said with a complicated uncertainty in his expression, "Ben, will your father really help me? He made me accept the goddess's judgment in public, and at that time I thought he was going to give up on me."

"That's all for show. If we don't act that decisively, Wayne won't easily get involved. Don't worry, he won't let you die. If you die, things will get complicated."

After hearing Ben's earlier remarks and then hearing Ben mention "that person," Dalton's expression became complicated.

Ben noticed his unease and added gently, "Don't worry, my father promised, and he won't go back on his word. Three days from now, just step into the dueling arena."

Dalton's heart finally calmed down a little.

He knelt on the ground, his forehead resting on Ben's knees, and let out a long sigh: "Ben... thank you... I really don't know what I would have done without you..."

Ben continued stroking his hair, then he changed the subject, as if he had inadvertently remembered something.

"By the way, I heard that Father Wayne has an unforgettable appearance. Is that true?"

Dalton's body stiffened abruptly.

He looked up at Ben, a hint of wariness in his eyes: "Ben... he's a demon, you must never mess with him."

Ben smiled, looking relaxed.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Dalton looked at Ben's smiling face, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something more to reinforce his warning, but in the end he swallowed his words back.

Meanwhile, at the Lord's Mansion in Bellino.

The curtains in the second-floor study were half-drawn, and the aroma of tea wafted through the air.

Freddy himself was not in the church at the moment. He was sitting in the drawing room of the Bellinor Lord's mansion, with a cup of black tea in front of him, and Count Jayne Heinrich, the de facto ruler of Bellinor, sitting opposite him.

Jain is exactly thirty years old this year. He has a handsome face and an air of refinement characteristic of the Heinrich family. He is the younger brother of the current queen.

"You certainly know how to pick your timing." Earl Jayne picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said casually, "I just finished processing a batch of official documents, and you show up here. What, are you done with things at the church?"

"It's all done. It went more smoothly than I expected."

"Oh?" Earl Jayne's eyes gleamed with interest. "That little fellow from Frosttown, he got involved so easily?"

Freddy shook his head slightly.

"It wasn't easy. He's far more capable than I imagined. Dalton was practically helpless against him. From the anti-magic stone to the witnesses, from the trial authorization to the indictment, he dismantled every step of the process completely."

Jayne looked at Freddy and continued, "Freddy, are you really planning to get involved in this battle between the old and the new?"

Freddy took a sip of tea.

"I was just going with the flow. As for whether I was hedging my bets... don't you know best?"

"Going with the flow?" Jayne chuckled. "You think I can't see through it? First, we put Wayne on the hot seat, then we pushed Dalton into the deathmatch arena, getting involved on both sides and not losing out on either. When the results are in, no matter which side wins, you'll have something to say. Freddy, Freddy, you really are a cunning old fox!"

Freddy put down his teacup, his relaxed tone softening slightly, replaced by a barely perceptible seriousness.

"That's true. But this young man is good in every way. He's talented, intelligent, and resourceful. It's just that his path has been too smooth. But compared to the capital, Frosttown and Aldrian are ultimately minor skirmishes. It's always good to let him hone his skills in Bellinor beforehand. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Jayne asked curiously.

"Unless he can be as shameless as his father."

After listening, Earl Jayne did not immediately comment, but simply picked up his teacup and took a sip as well: "You certainly think of Cecil's needs."

"You should always take things entrusted to you by old friends seriously."

After saying that, Freddy paused, then changed the subject, his tone becoming more casual: "By the way, how has His Majesty the King been lately? Has his condition improved?"

However, the moment Jayne heard those words, his expression changed. His relaxed and composed demeanor instantly turned sour, replaced by a cold wariness.

Freddy.

Jayne's voice trailed off.

"Do you know that if you weren't Bishop Cecil's close friend, based on what you just said, you would already be a cold corpse?"

Freddy's expression didn't change much. He remained silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his tone tinged with a complex bitterness: "Even if I swore an oath to the goddess, is that not enough?"

Jayne gave him no room to maneuver.

"The kingdom is a chosen one, blessed by God. His condition is none of your concern."

The reception room was quiet for a while.

Jayne broke the silence first.

"Is there anything else?"

Freddy put down his teacup and shook his head.

"No, thank you for your time today."

"Then I won't see you off."