Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Anka offered to introduce himself.

"Master, the Black Order is currently in a state of complete shutdown. There are three members in total, plus two slackers."

When she uttered the words "slothers," Blair and Torre simultaneously looked away. They felt a pang of shame at Anka's words.

Anka ignored him and continued speaking.

"It's true that they're lazy. But in reality, even if they worked twelve hours a day without stopping, it wouldn't change anything. The current state of the Black Order can't be turned around by the desperate efforts of just three people."

The two were surprised; they hadn't expected Anka to protect them.

Anka then raised another question.

"Another problem is the severe shortage of manpower. Currently, I am the only one in the entire Black Order who can go out on field missions. I can handle some simple investigations, but when it comes to tasks involving arrests, escorts, or standoffs, the shortage is completely exposed."

Wayne didn't interrupt her and listened quietly.

Next, Anka's gaze turned serious: "Master, the Black Order still has one last, and most fundamental, problem. That is, the legal framework is unclear. The boundaries of the Black Order's authority are currently very vague. We nominally possess the power to investigate, summon, and make arrests within a limited scope, but in practice, these powers overlap and conflict with those of the Holy Knights, the City Guard, the Inquisition, and other institutions. Simply put, there are no clear boundaries to our law enforcement authority. Many times, even if we find clues, we don't have sufficient legal basis to independently carry out the next step of action."

After she finished saying these three points, she let out a long sigh of relief.

"My Lord, this is the entirety of the Black Order's current resources. Three living people, a cabinet full of old case files that no one can finish rummaging through, and a list of powers that looks beautiful on paper but runs into obstacles everywhere in practice."

The hall was quiet for a while.

After listening, Wayne neither frowned nor sighed. He nodded and calmly replied, "Yes, I understand."

He looked at Anka: "I will resolve the three issues you just mentioned, but it will take some time. Until I resolve these issues, the Black Order's daily operations will remain as they are."

Anka nodded: "Understood."

Wayne shifted his gaze from Anka to the other two, his attitude quite clear.

"The Black Order will face many difficulties and challenges in the future, so you two had better think it through in advance. If you feel that this place is not suitable for you and you want to transfer to another department, you can tell me in advance. I will make arrangements and will not make things difficult for you."

Torrey and Blair exchanged a glance, neither of them responding immediately. They lowered their heads and replied, "...Yes, sir."

Wayne didn't waste time on this topic; he turned to Anka and said, "Anka, I need you to do something for me."

Anka immediately stood up straight: "Please speak, sir."

"If the Black Order wants to rise again, empty talk won't work; they need to produce tangible results. I need you to help me compile two cases that currently have clear leads and are ready to be acted upon. They don't necessarily have to be major cases, but they must be cases that can be investigated thoroughly and brought to a successful conclusion."

Anka's eyes brightened slightly, and she nodded almost without hesitation: "Understood. I have a few leads that I've been following for a while now, and I'll put them in a written report by tonight and leave them on your desk first thing tomorrow morning."

Wayne nodded, then added, "Also, starting today, Emily will learn from you about the actual situation and past of the department. You'll be responsible for mentoring her."

Anka turned his gaze to Emily, looked her up and down, and without asking any further questions, simply nodded: "No problem. Miss Emily, nice to meet you."

Emily returned the greeting politely.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Anka."

After arranging everything, Wayne did not stay at the Black Order any longer. After confirming the handover procedures for some basic matters, he left first.

In the blink of an eye.

Wayne appeared in front of St. George's Cathedral.

The main entrance of St. George's Basilica is imposing, with two large bronze doors tightly closed, only a small side door open for passage. Two paladins in silver armor stand at the entrance, chests straight, eyes fixed straight ahead, giving the impression of "no unauthorized personnel allowed."

Wayne walked to the door, and one of the paladins glanced at him disdainfully and asked, "Who goes there?"

Wayne handed over the invitation: "Wayne Angus, head of the Black Order. I am here at the invitation of Cardinal Carosso."

The paladin did not accept the invitation. He glanced down at the sealed envelope, his gaze growing even more disdainful: "Wayne Angus? Never heard of that name."

Another paladin beside him chuckled, replying sarcastically, "The Black Order? There are still people there? I thought they'd closed down a long time ago."

Wayne sighed and said slowly, "Sigh! It seems that's all there is to St. George's Cathedral. Even the doormen are scum. This invitation is not worth it."

The expressions of the two paladins changed simultaneously.

"Who are you calling trash?"

Wayne didn't even lift his eyelids.

"Whoever shouts the loudest is trash."

The paladin on the left had his hand on his sword hilt, took half a step forward, and his eyes were filled with obvious anger: "Say that again?"

Wayne didn't back down, nor did he even assume a defensive stance. He simply stood there, his tone clearly mocking: "What? Want to fight? At the entrance of St. George's Cathedral, a paladin attacking a clergyman with an invitation? Is this the kind of etiquette people from St. George's Cathedral practice?"

The paladin froze.

He was now in a dilemma.

Seeing this, another paladin standing nearby tugged at his companion's arm guard and whispered, "Forget it, don't bother with him. He's just the head of the Black Order, not worth your trouble."

The paladin, who had been holding his sword, gritted his teeth, finally loosened his grip on the hilt, and took a half-step back, but the resentment and anger in his eyes had not completely subsided.

Just then, a young man walked in through the side door of St. George's Cathedral. He was about thirty years old and had a handsome face.

He glanced at the two paladins, then fixed his gaze on Wayne, and bowed slightly: "Lord Wayne, I am Edmund, Cardinal Carosso's disciple. My master has been waiting in the drawing room for quite some time."

After he finished speaking, he turned to the two paladins who were still standing there, his tone carrying an undeniable sense of oppression: "You two, go to the backyard and each receive twenty lashes. Lord Wayne is a guest personally invited by our teacher. If you can't even perform basic etiquette, you are not worthy to stand before St. George's door."

The two paladins turned pale instantly, but neither dared to argue. They lowered their heads, replied "Yes," and then turned and quickly left.

Edmund looked away.

He gestured for Wayne to enter.

Wayne didn't say much and went inside with Edmund.