Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Two days passed quickly.

Nothing major has happened in the past two days.

The most striking change, however, was Ben Freddie's shift in attitude. The playboy who used to swagger around Bellino seemed like a completely different person.

He volunteered to take on the job of cleaning the church courtyard, getting up before dawn every day to sweep the grounds. He would nod and greet the monks when he saw them, and even the street vendors noticed that he no longer paraded around with his group of followers.

Freddy was very pleased with this.

Even after Ben finished cleaning on the third day, he patted him on the shoulder for the first time ever and said, "You've finally grown up." Ben didn't say much, just bowed his head and responded, but only he knew the complex emotions in his eyes.

Dalton has contacted Ben many times in the past two days.

The first time was on the afternoon of the incident. He rushed to Ben's residence, wanting to discuss countermeasures against the goddess's judgment. Ben did not open the door, but only had a servant reply, "Young Master is unwell and unable to receive guests."

The second time was the following morning, when Dalton blocked the church entrance. Ben saw him and turned to leave through a side door. The third time was the following evening, when Dalton climbed through Ben's window, which Ben immediately locked from the inside.

Dalton stood outside the window and knocked several times, but only a cold reply came from inside: "Go away, and don't come back again."

Dalton stood outside the window for a long time before finally leaving through gritted teeth. He didn't know why Ben had suddenly become like this, but he knew that something must have happened to Ben.

On the eve of the goddess's judgment, a gray-feathered messenger landed on the windowsill of the Swan and Horn Inn.

Wayne took the mailbox, unfolded the note inside, and scanned it from top to bottom. The handwriting on the note was neat, but it was a deliberately concealed style, making it impossible to tell who the handwriting belonged to.

The note contained only a few lines of text:

"Dalton has made a pact with the devil, who promised to grant him power in the duel. Furthermore, Freddy will bestow a blessing of power upon Dalton using the power of words before the trial begins. Please be careful. —From someone in the know."

After reading the note, Wayne rolled it up again and burned it to ashes over a candle flame.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking.

The square in front of the Bellino Church was already packed with people.

A temporary platform was erected in the center of the square, made of rough wood and stone slabs, with an iron chain around its edge. The platform was about five zhang square, enough for two people to maneuver on.

The audience below was a sea of ​​people.

On either side of the crowd stood a row of Papal Inquisitors in black uniforms. They were a three-person team dispatched directly from the Inquisition this morning, having arrived from the capital, specifically to oversee the impartial execution of the Goddess's judgment.

More and more people gathered in the square.

Almost everyone from Frost Town has arrived.

Wilford stood at the front of the crowd, wearing a crisp new coat and with his hair slicked back. Several guards from Frosttown stood beside him, listening to his boasting.

"You know what? When Bishop Wayne first arrived in Frosttown, I could tell at a glance that he was no ordinary person..."

The guards nodded repeatedly.

"The mayor is right."

"That time he single-handedly charged into the monster horde to rescue people, I was standing on the city wall watching, and the scene was... wow..."

The panel popped up at this point.

[Wilford - Current Status]

[Status: Excited and nervous.]

[Note: He bet a large sum of money on you winning; the exact amount cannot be disclosed, but the consequences will be severe. If he wins, he will send his wife and daughter to the capital. His daughter will attend the Royal Magic Academy, and his wife will accompany her. He has heard that accompanying someone from afar can have miraculous effects, and he plans to try it.]

[Note 2: His so-called "miraculous effect," you know what I mean. His current abilities in that area are lacking; only the fantasies of the Minotaur can provide him with some motivation. This is also the treatment plan devised for him by the Minotaur cult.]

After reading the panel on stage, Wayne could only sigh.

Wilford is a true genius.

While standing in the audience, their minds were already wandering to the capital, even coming up with ideas like "accompanying students from other places to study".

The door to the opposite passage was also opened.

Dalton came out.

He wore a long, dark black robe with dark red embroidery on the hem. The aura he exuded was completely different from what it had been two days ago.

Dalton stood on the stage, his gaze sweeping across the crowd below, finally settling on Wayne's face, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Wayne, didn't expect that, did you? You thought you were going to win, but I told you, you can't be this lucky forever."

A low murmur arose from the crowd below the stage.

"Dalton's aura...is that much stronger than it was two days ago?"

"Wasn't he still at level three the day before yesterday? Why does he seem different now?"

"This...this isn't right..."

Wilford's face changed. He clenched his fists and muttered, "Damn it, this guy really did tamper with it!"

Wayne looked away.

"Is the power of the Contract Demon useful, Dalton?"

Dalton's gaze sharpened for a moment, but the smile on his face did not fade: "I don't know what you're talking about. This is the power bestowed upon me by the goddess, the reward for my devout prayers."

On the side of the platform, the presiding judge stood up. He cleared his throat, and his voice, amplified by magic, resonated throughout the entire plaza: "Goddess's Judgment: Both sides are present. According to the laws of the Wiggins Church, this judgment will be made in the form of a death match, until one side voluntarily concedes or is completely incapacitated."

"Are both sides ready?"

Dalton spoke first: "Ready?"

Wayne nodded: "Ready."

The presiding judge raised his right hand and then swung it down sharply.

"The verdict begins!"

Dalton made the first move.

His figure suddenly lurched forward the moment the verdict began, at a speed completely contrary to his past experience as a clerical worker.

Wayne stepped aside without retaliating.

Dalton missed his punch, but without stopping, he turned around and delivered another powerful sweeping blow.

Wayne raised his leg to block it.

A low gasp of surprise rose from the audience.

"When did Dalton become such a good fighter?"

"Didn't he used to be so weak he couldn't even hold a sword properly?"

"This speed...this power...this is clearly at the peak of the fourth tier!"

Wayne was on the defensive.

He was dodging, blocking, and retreating.

He was observing.

Wayne knew perfectly well that this duel was more than just a personal feud between him and Dalton.

He had figured this out two days ago. If he returned to the capital smoothly, it would mean that the new-style nobles, represented by Marquis Lynch, would forge a closer relationship with the new-style forces within the Papacy. And he, Wayne, was the most crucial node in that link.

Therefore, some people do not want him to return to the capital.

I hope he dies in Bellino.

Dalton was merely the knife that was pushed to the forefront.

The real killer move is hidden beneath the surface.