Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Chapter 284 Aya's Practice

Wayne looked at everyone.

"Who does your master think he is? And what do you think you are, you bunch of fake men who sell your bodies?"

Ben's face finally darkened.

He'd been in Bellino for so many years, and no one had ever insulted him like that in the street. His smile vanished completely, replaced by anger: "I was going to talk to you nicely, but since you're being so ungrateful, don't blame me for being impolite."

He took a step back and waved his hand.

"Give me the call, and I'll take responsibility if anything goes wrong."

Those henchmen had been waiting for those words.

Scarface was the first to rush forward, his right fist whistling as it came straight at Wayne's face. The others also flanked him from both sides; some grabbed a wooden stick used to prop up a stall nearby, while others pulled a short iron chain from their waists.

However, Wayne simply turned his head slightly and said to Anya, who was standing slightly behind him, "These people are for you to practice on."

Anya's eyes lit up immediately.

She took a step forward, standing in front of Wayne, her small frame ramrod straight. She tilted her head back and replied earnestly, "Yes, sir! I'll definitely beat them to a pulp!"

Those followers who had already rushed halfway stopped abruptly upon hearing this.

Scarface froze, glanced at Anya, and then let out an undisguised sneer.

"Did I hear that right? We're sending an eight or nine-year-old girl to fight us?"

Everyone else did the same.

"Is this little girl weaned yet? I'm afraid if I hit her with a stick, she'll cry and run back to her mother."

"Hahahaha!"

"This priest must be terrified, sending a child to take the knife for him?"

Anya ignored the laughter, steadied herself, and reached for the hilt of the wooden sword behind her. Marco had carved it for her; it was larger and heavier than the one she'd used in Frost Town.

She slowly drew the wooden sword, held it horizontally in front of her, gripped the hilt with both hands, took a small half-step forward with her left foot, and lowered her center of gravity. As soon as she adopted that starting stance, the scarred man's laughter subsided slightly.

He had worked as a guard in the Earl's mansion for several years and had seen some martial arts practitioners demonstrate their skills. Although the little girl in front of him was still small, the poise and confidence she exuded after standing firm were clearly different from other girls her age.

"Little brat, you've got quite the pose." Scarface dropped his contempt, took a step forward, and swung his right fist again, this time aiming for Anya's shoulder. In the end, he held back, not daring to kill an eight or nine-year-old girl.

Anya did not back down.

She dodged the punch with lightning speed; the scarred man's fist grazed her shoulder, barely touching the hem of her clothes. At the same time, she swung her wooden sword upwards, striking the inside of the scarred man's wrist with pinpoint accuracy.

Snapped!

A crisp sound.

Scarface hissed and gasped, his entire right arm went numb instantly, and his fist involuntarily clenched.

Before he could react, Anya had already sheathed her wooden sword, the tip of which turned in mid-air and struck him horizontally on the back of his knee.

Scarface's right leg buckled, and he knelt down on one knee.

The entire process takes no more than two breaths.

The smiles of the followers who were still laughing froze on their faces.

Anya sheathed her sword, stood up straight, and calmly swept her gaze over the remaining followers, saying in a flat tone, "Next."

The remaining followers exchanged glances, their eyes filled with obvious resentment.

A bald man charged forward first, his fist whistling as it aimed for Aya's face. Aya dodged to the side, her wooden sword striking him horizontally at the waist. The man groaned, staggered a couple of steps, and crouched down, clutching his waist.

The last tall, thin man grabbed a wooden stick from a nearby stall and swung it down at Aya's shoulder. Instead of retreating, Aya stepped forward, the stick grazing her back and missing its mark. The spine of her wooden sword then struck the tall, thin man's shinbone.

The tall, thin man let out a howl, knelt on one knee, and the wooden stick in his hand rolled away.

In total, it took less than ten breaths.

The three henchmen Ben brought with him all collapsed to the ground. One clutched his wrist, one lay on the ground panting, and the other hugged his calf, gasping for breath.

Ben's expression changed.

He shouted angrily.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"

"I've been raising you all for nothing."

"A bunch of trash!"

Immediately afterwards, Ben took a step back, pulled a silver whistle from his pocket, put it in his mouth, and blew it hard.

A sharp whistle pierced the street.

Immediately afterwards, a gray figure leaped down from the rooftops on the side of the street and landed lightly in front of him.

She was a girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing a tattered gray-white cloak, with messy long hair that reached her waist, covered with fallen leaves and dust.

The girl raised her head, revealing a pair of light yellow, vertically oriented pupils. She looked at Aya, then at Wayne, letting out a low growl as if assessing the level of threat before her.

Ben became smug.

"This is a wolf slave I bought from the North at a high price. She was raised by wolves since she was a cub, so she is still wild and doesn't recognize her master, only the whip. I tell her to bite whoever I want her to bite."

The panel popped up at this point.

【Wolf Girl - Character Information】

[Identity: Fura, a wandering orphan from the North, raised by wolves from a young age, later captured by slave traders and sold to Bellinor.]

[Background: She is neither an orc nor of orc blood; she has simply survived alone in the wilderness for over a decade, and her habits have become indistinguishable from those of a wild animal. She cannot speak, but can understand simple commands.]

[Note: She was bought by Cavendish, Ben's brother. Cavendish, seeing her pitiful state, spent his savings of three years to buy her from the slave market. However, when Ben found out, he forcibly took her from Cavendish. Cavendish dared not speak out, for he was the son of a prostitute.]

[Note 2: Today, Cavens planned to kill Ben, then escape with the werewolf girl to a place no one knows.]

[Note: At this moment, Cavens is hiding in the shadows.]

Just then, Ben suddenly waved his hand.

"Charge them! Tear them to pieces!"

The wolf girl didn't move.

She stood there, his gaze fixed on Wayne, his four legs trembling slightly—not from preparing for an attack, but from fear.

She didn't dare to go forward.

The man in front of me is very strong.

Ben's anger exploded completely at this moment.

He yanked the whip from his waist, flicked his wrist, and the tip of the whip lashed the wolf girl's back with a whistling sound.

Snapped!

"Useless! You're not even listening to me anymore, are you? I've put so much effort into raising you, not for you to stand here and do nothing!"