Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Tiffany moved.

She placed her hands on the ground, and a complex array pattern appeared beneath her palms. The pattern spread outwards from her center, enveloping the area where Lucian was located.

"Flame Dragon!"

The ground suddenly shook.

The array's patterns instantly glowed with a blinding red light, followed by a massive pillar of fire rising from the center of the array. The pillar of fire rapidly condensed in mid-air, and a giant fire dragon rose from the ground, swallowing Lusen, who was enveloped in black slime, whole.

The flames lasted for about five breaths.

Lusen's body was completely charred in the flames of the Fiery Dragon, his skin completely carbonized, remaining in the last pose of struggling.

Hilda plopped down on the ground, panting heavily, sweat streaming down her face. "Damn it... I finally killed that bastard..."

Salia released her hands from the ground, leaned back, and lay flat on the ground, her chest heaving violently, unable to utter a single word.

For the two of them, who are at the fourth tier, to control a fifth-tier knight is still a bit too much of a stretch.

Tiffany stood in the center of the formation, her hands still trembling slightly. She looked down at the charred corpse and let out a long sigh.

Then she walked toward Wayne.

"Are you Bishop Wayne of Frosttown?"

"Um."

Tiffany smiled wryly. "I never expected that the person we're going to assassinate tonight would be you."

Wayne looked at her: "Something happened to the witch cult in your capital. I heard about it from the cult in Frost Town. But I didn't expect things to be this serious, with even the remnants being forced by the Church to do dirty work."

The three witches remained silent, so Wayne continued to ask Dao, "What exactly is your situation now?"

Tiffany took a deep breath and recounted the entire situation of the Royal Order.

The Witch Cult in the capital originally had more than fifty members and had been operating in secret for many years, carefully avoiding the sight of the Holy See.

Three months ago, however, a traitor emerged within the order, reporting its stronghold to Cardinal Carosso. Carosso personally led a raid, capturing the order's core members on the spot. The remaining remnants scattered and hid, but Carosso's forces were relentless, and they found no opportunity to escape.

A week ago, Carroso sent men to the three women and offered them a choice: kill someone for him, and the sisters in the dungeon would live. If they refused, they would receive the heads of those sisters the next day.

After Tiffany finished speaking, she lowered her gaze: "That's how it is. We didn't come here willingly to kill you, but we had no other choice."

After listening, Wayne asked his second question: "So what are your plans now?"

Phoenix raised her head, a hint of struggle in her eyes, but finally she made up her mind and said, "Bishop Wayne... we know this request is unreasonable, but we still want to beg you... please help us."

Wayne's gaze swept across the three faces in turn before he spoke: "Give me a reason to help you."

Tiffany opened her mouth, but swallowed the words back. She found she couldn't come up with a compelling reason. They were complete strangers to Wayne, and tonight they were there to kill him. Why should he risk his life to save a group of complete strangers?

She lowered her gaze and pursed her lips.

The silence lasted for several breaths.

Then Hilda's voice broke the silence: "Big sister, say something!"

Tiffany remained silent.

She knew this wasn't the time to save face. If she couldn't persuade this man, her sisters in the dungeon would truly have no chance of survival.

She took a deep breath, raised her head, and looked directly into Wayne's eyes: "Bishop Wayne... we have no reason to ask you for our help. Tonight we are here to kill you, and even if you kill us on the spot, it will be our just deserts."

She paused for a moment.

"But I beg you... please help us. If you're willing to help and rescue those sisters in the dungeon, my life, Tiffany's life, will be yours from this day forward. The remnants of the Royal Capital Witch Cult are willing to pledge their allegiance to you."

Hilda hesitated for a moment, then immediately chimed in, "Me too! If you can save them, I, Hilda, will give you my life!"

Salia replied without hesitation, "Me too. Whether it's signing a contract or making a vow, we have no complaints."

After listening to the three men's statements, Wayne did not answer immediately, but pondered for a moment: "What guarantees do you have? Verbal promises are something anyone can make."

Tiffany did not hesitate.

"We can sign a soul contract."

"A soul contract. Once signed, your lives will be in my hands. Have you thought it through?"

Tiffany's tone was resolute: "I've thought it through. I'm willing to do anything to save them."

"We are willing too."

Hilda and Salia spoke at the same time.

Wayne quickly weighed the pros and cons in his mind. In this impending era of turmoil, the value of a witch team was indeed a force to be reckoned with. The combined fighting prowess they had just displayed had already proven their combat capabilities. If he could also rescue the core members from the dungeon, he would essentially possess a completely obedient secret force in the capital.

He looked up at Tiffany: "Deal."

Tiffany's heart finally settled down. Then she knelt on one knee, placed her right hand on her chest, and said, "I, Tiffany, swear by my soul to the goddess that I will be loyal to you from this day forward. If I break this vow, may my soul be forever condemned to the abyss and never be released."

Hilda and Salia both knelt on one knee and repeated the same vow.

Wayne stood before the three men, and as the final vow was recited, he extended his right hand. Three drops of water, shimmering with a pale golden light, floated above his palm before slowly drifting towards the three men's brows.

The contract is established.

A drop of water seeped into their foreheads, and all three of them trembled slightly before returning to normal.

Tiffany first knelt on one knee: "Master."

Hilda and Salia were taken aback for a moment, then immediately followed suit, kneeling on one knee and calling out, "Master."

Wayne glanced down at them and said, "From now on, you don't need to call me master. Just call me sir."

The three looked at each other, and then all changed their tune.

"gentlemen."

Wayne nodded, then got to the point: "Where are your sisters who were imprisoned?"

Tiffany immediately replied, "St. George's Cathedral, the dungeon on the third floor."

Wayne's gaze sharpened for a moment.

St. George's Cathedral.

He knew that place. The second largest cathedral in the capital, second only in size to the Saint Laurent Cathedral in the center of the capital. It was one of the core strongholds of the old guard, with a considerable number of combat monks and inquisition knights residing there.

Hilda couldn't help but ask.

"Sir, shall we launch a direct assault?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Salia raised her hand and gently patted the back of her head.

"Are you stupid? That's St. George's Cathedral. If the four of us rushed over, we wouldn't even make it through the door before we'd be riddled with bullets."

Hilda rubbed the back of her head, muttering in annoyance, "I was just in a hurry... I was just asking..."

Tiffany ignored their bickering and looked at Wayne with obvious concern in her eyes: "Sir, St. George's Cathedral has a very high level of defense. The dungeon is on the third floor and below, making it difficult to approach with regular infiltration. Moreover, Cardinal Carosso himself resides in St. George's Cathedral. He is one of the core figures of the Old School and has at least two fifth-tier Inquisition Knights and a standing squad of combat monks by his side."