Witch Training Manual: My Water Magic Is Wrong

Wayne wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

This wasn't the kind of oppressive feeling you'd get from an ordinary fifth-tier character; Zorro was now at least close to the late fifth-tier stage. He'd seen plenty of these life-risking enhancements before; the greater the cost, the shorter the duration.

We'll win if we outlast him until he's completely exhausted.

He raised both hands.

Water elements surged in from all directions, completely different from the previous water imprisonment. This time, the water flowed in layers, enveloping Zorro entirely in hundreds of water films.

Water Prisoner Plus Version.

Zorro was inside, bombarding a layer of water.

"Boy, you really think you can trap me? You're just a fourth-tier mage, trying to force a fifth-tier spell; your mana reserves probably won't be enough!"

Wayne ignored him.

He raised his hand.

Hundreds of bottles of blue potion appeared in front of him, lined up in several rows, as if an entire caravan's inventory had been moved out of thin air.

"How about this?"

Zorro paused for a moment as he saw that they were all mana-restoring potions.

"Your mom..."

Zorro punched the inner wall of the water prison again and again, splashing water everywhere. The surface of the water prison kept denting and cracking, only to be immediately filled with fresh water. He hacked and slashed inside like a madman, the waves stirred up by his five-meter-tall body strong enough to crush an ordinary person.

No matter how much he smashed, the water would replenish it in the next instant.

Wayne released his staff.

The staff didn't fall after leaving his hand; instead, it hovered steadily beside him, the sapphire at the top of the staff rotating automatically. The arrogant water dragon king had actually begun to replenish his mana on his own.

Wayne didn't look at the medicine bottles. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest, his fingers interlocked, and his eyelids drooped.

"Merciful Goddess, please hear your disciple's prayers and grant me your mercy and grace."

Theon was stunned.

"Then...how can that staff absorb the magic power from the potion on its own?"

The old man held his pipe but didn't smoke.

"That staff is extraordinary. It has already nurtured a spirit of nature within it, capable of replenishing its own magic power without requiring its master's attention."

Theon looked up at Wayne again.

"Then how come this kid also knows the high-level divine magic of the Holy See?"

"Perhaps he was originally a member of the church."

Meanwhile, above the alley.

A slit was torn in the gray fog, and a ray of white light fell down, with the cross hanging above Wayne's head.

"You deserve to die, kid!"

The moment the water prison exploded, Zorro was ejected from it, his five-meter-tall skeletal body like a skinned beast, charging straight at Wayne.

Wayne stood still.

The cross moved first.

The cross hanging above his head flipped over, nails pointing downwards. Holy light poured down from the four corners, forming a cone-shaped pillar of light that crashed down.

Zorro charged halfway, but it was too late for him to turn around.

The cross shattered his raised arms, pierced his chest, and slammed him into the alleyway floor.

With a loud bang, the ground cracked open and a deep pit appeared.

Zorro was nailed to the bottom of the pit. He grabbed the nail in front of his chest and tried to pull it out, but as soon as his right hand touched the holy light, his flesh was burned to charcoal.

Wayne floated in mid-air.

He pointed his staff at Zorro, and a sharp little water dragon pierced through Zorro's head, bringing out a string of brain matter and broken bones.

The body stopped moving completely.

Upon seeing this, the surrounding demons let out a chorus of screams and turned to run towards the tunnel entrance.

"That human above is terrifying!"

"Run! Run back down!"

The underground passageway was quickly emptied.

North side safety zone.

Debon brought Rocco to Sanders.

Bill was following behind him, along with several homeless orphans. Indeed, as Sanders said, it was Debon and his crew who saved Bill; Bill survived.

The moment Debon saw Sanders, his eyes reddened. He rushed to Sanders' side and pulled things out of his pockets—medicine bottles, bandages, magic cores, and dry rations—spreading them haphazardly all over the floor.

"Hang in there, hang in there! I have medicine, I have everything! Just hang in there, I'll apply the medicine for you right away!"

Sanders shook his head.

"Captain, no need."

He pointed at Bill: "Bring her here."

Bill crawled to Sanders' side, crying and trembling.

Sanders didn't just save these orphans; this taciturn man had been supporting them all along. In a sense, it was this man who gave them food to eat.

Sanders raised his hand and touched Bill.

"Don't cry, be strong. You've done a great job all along; you've protected them..."

Bill gripped his wrist, tears streaming down his face, his throat filled with suppressed sobs.

Sanders then looked at Rocco, his voice weak and broken: "The captain can be reckless sometimes, so keep an eye on him for me."

Rocco knelt beside him, gripping his wrists tightly with both hands, shaking her head and crying, "Big guy, don't say anything. You'll be alright, you'll be alright..."

Sanders' pupils were dilated.

"I think... I'm a little tired. Let me sleep for a while... just a little while..."

He looked into the distance, and it seemed he saw the path he had come from, the past, his mother, his home, and the pasture...

As soon as she finished speaking, the hand that Luo Ke was holding slipped out of her palm.

A gust of wind swept in from outside the broken wall, causing several burnt wooden planks to overturn and crash to the ground with a few crisp sounds.

No one spoke in the alley anymore.

When Wayne walked over, the smoke hadn't completely dissipated.

They didn't say anything.

Take a glass of wine out of the storage bag.

"This drink is for you. I broke my promise to have a drink with you."

Schiller leaned against the broken wall opposite him, remaining silent. The old man stood beside him, his pipe tucked into his sleeve.

"His injuries are too severe," the old man said. "His internal organs are basically shattered. He's only managed to hold on until now because he's incredibly resilient."

Wayne looked at Schiller and the old man.

"Do you know what's going on down there?"

The old man pointed his pipe towards the mine: "It's chaotic. The monsters on the second level are all surging upwards. I can't say what the third level is like now. But judging from the fog, it won't be any better than the top."

Wayne placed the glass next to Sanders and stood up.

Debon was still kneeling on the ground when he heard the noise and looked up: "Young man, where are you going?"

"Get out of here."

Debon paused for a moment: "Now? Look at the mess down there, you still want to go down?"

"I've got something to take care of." Wayne patted him on the shoulder. "Come up, I'll buy you a drink."

Debon opened his mouth, but ultimately didn't try to persuade him further.

Wayne turned and walked toward the mine.

"etc."

Schiller stepped out from behind the broken wall.

Schiller walked over in a few steps, hoisted the axe he had been holding to his chest onto his shoulder, and said, "I'll go down with you."

He turned his head and called out to the old man, "Grandpa, I'm leaving the work upstairs to you!"

The old man waved his hand.

"Go on, go on. Don't die down there."

Schiller grinned but didn't reply.

The two walked side by side toward the mine entrance.