Chapter 245 – In Deep Water and Scorching Fire

Chapter 245 – In Deep Water and Scorching Fire

When the Academy bell tolled and Lady Amisha said “class dismissed,” the young witches actually felt as though they had survived a calamity.

Lady Amisha mounted her broom and whooshed away in an instant. The terrifying water spheres vanished along with her departure.

The young witches suddenly went slack, barely able to stand. After managing to gather together, they collapsed onto the ground in a heap.

“That wasn’t a class — that was running for our lives!” Vasida said indignantly.

That single sentence struck right at the heart of every other young witch present.

“My legs are still trembling!” Sylph said, still shaken. “Being hunted down couldn’t be much worse than that!”

Mo Lan quite agreed. “I thought this combat class would teach us some hand-to-hand techniques and fighting moves! I never expected it would be like this… but it’s actually quite fitting. In one month, you can’t really get anywhere practicing other things. Special training like this yields far greater results.”

However, her plan to finish this course ahead of schedule had fallen through.

She would genuinely have to attend for the full month.

“What results? Results in dodging water spheres?” Iris asked, puzzled. Although the potions mixed into the water spheres had already healed her injuries, the humiliation and pain from before had been deeply seared into her mind.

At the thought of enduring another month of this torment, she couldn’t help but feel the urge to quit.

She was simply too afraid of pain.

“The water spheres now are the magic and blades that will come at us in the future. We not only need to learn how to fight — we also need to learn how to run. We should pick up some counterattack methods beyond magic too. These water spheres are excellent practice targets!”

Mo Lan hefted the butcher’s knife in her hand as she spoke. “After this one class, I feel like I’ve gotten much more proficient with it. It might come in handy someday…”

They had all attended the same magic classes together — which young witch didn’t recognize Mo Lan’s knife? They each had a weapon like that, one they commonly used to practice the sharpening spell.

But just coping with the water spheres had already pushed them to their limits. Under those conditions, no one had the mental capacity to think carefully about what this class could actually offer them. Some hadn’t even fully understood Lady Amisha’s speech before the training began, let alone actively honed those skills during the session.

Still, the young witches were no fools, nor were they pampered girls who couldn’t endure hardship.

From the moment they were old enough to understand, they knew that parents and family were only something to rely on in childhood. The Witch Council and the Academy would teach them the ability to protect themselves, but after graduating at eighteen, everything would depend on themselves.

They had spent their entire first year studying 《History of Witches》 and 《Continental History》, and this year they had been continuously taking wilderness survival classes. They understood full well how dangerous the outside world was and how difficult it was to survive alone.

When it concerned their own lives, not a single young witch was careless. After hearing Mo Lan’s words, they fell into quiet contemplation.

Since they had to take this class regardless, and suffer through it no matter what — why not adjust their mindset and extract as much benefit from it as possible?

Cheryl thought of the experience Mo Lan had shared during alchemy class, and couldn’t help but seek her advice:

“Moira, you know the most and think further ahead than any of us. What do you think we should do now to make better use of this class?”

“Go to the library and find a book on systematically learning weapon skills. It might help,” Mo Lan said. “This is a golden opportunity for sparring practice. We don’t need to become experts — just being able to strike a vital point at a critical moment is enough.”

Taking her advice, the young witches went to the library that very night and copied out books that matched their chosen weapons, then began reading through them.

The techniques felt clumsy and awkward when they tried practicing them on their own, but some of the tips and tricks proved quite rewarding.

The following afternoon, Amisha set out early for class, planning to catch any latecomers.

By the “tradition” of previous years, Combat Techniques was the class with the lowest enthusiasm and highest tardiness rate among the young witches.

When she arrived at the training grounds, Amisha could scarcely believe her eyes — all twenty-seven young witches were present, not a single one missing!

And there were still three minutes until class!

Amisha was surprised on the inside, but her expression remained unchanged. “Same rules as before — hand over your brooms and wands!”

The brooms were already placed on the lone broom rack on the field. As for wands, Mo Lan pointed to the broom rack as well. “They’re in our satchels!”

The other young witches had done the same.

Everyone had gotten into the habit of carrying a small bag when going out, packed with paper and pens, cards, wands, water flasks, and snacks.

Amisha raised an eyebrow slightly. This cooperative?

She drew her own great wand, about to encase the whole pile of belongings in a magic barrier to protect them from the upcoming “battle” — only to see that the young witches had already scattered in all directions.

And they were no longer bare-handed like the day before.

Some wielded butcher’s knives, some held cleavers, some gripped daggers — all manner of blades were on display.

“Wait — I haven’t even released the water spheres yet!” A large question mark slowly rose in Amisha’s mind.

The young witches were being far too proactive. It had actually thrown her, the Headmistress, off her game.

“Headmistress! Where are the water spheres?” Vasida shouted impatiently. She was eager to try out the one-hit-kill technique she had learned from a book last night!

“Oh? Rushing me now, are you?” Amisha didn’t bother with the formality of announcing the start of training. She sent out a massive batch of water spheres, scattering them toward the young witches.

Each young witch was pursued and besieged by water spheres that slightly exceeded her own capabilities.

Knowledge from books wasn’t so easily put to skilled use — especially combat techniques.

What they had crammed in a single night of desperate studying wasn’t enough to handle the ever-increasing difficulty of the training.

Before long, they had fallen into the same passive situation as yesterday, enduring painful beatings from the water spheres as they struggled through.

After a while, watching the young witches scramble across the field — yelping in pain while swinging their blades — Amisha broke into a smile.

Now this was the class experience she was familiar with!

Except for one person, who seemed a touch too comfortable. But no matter — in the blink of an eye, Amisha added several more water spheres to that flash of purple.

Mo Lan, who had just started feeling like she could manage, only to be pummeled once again: “…”

Her water sphere count had already surpassed Vasida’s!

How thoughtful of the Headmistress!

Mo Lan stole a glance upward — and took a hit from a water sphere for her trouble.

“Hahaha!” Amisha laughed without the slightest restraint.

A scene like this — it would be a crime against herself not to celebrate with a couple of petit cakes.

The young witches were in deep water and scorching fire, while their dear Headmistress, as if on a spring outing, began nibbling on petit cakes.

Mo Lan even recognized them — they were the matcha petit cakes sold in the Card Mall.

When the bell rang for the end of class, the young witches felt as though they had been granted a new lease on life. Meanwhile, their unreliable Headmistress seemed to still be wanting more.