Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 381: Chapter 83: Living Is More Than Just Being Alive

"You’re right, Eleanor. News travels at its own pace. But if certain people—from more than one faction—want that news to spread ’faster,’ ’even faster,’ wanting it to sweep across the land like a wildfire, then it can burn its way into every corner with unnatural speed."

He paused for a moment, as if lost in memory. "Ten years ago, when the Deep Red Tide crisis erupted, the panic spread with abnormal speed as well. That wasn’t just because the disaster itself was terrifying. It was because... some people needed panic. They needed chaos. They needed the old order to crack."

"This time is merely history repeating itself. For certain people and certain powers, the upheaval in the Holy City isn’t a disaster to be covered up. It’s a golden ’signal,’ a ’chance’ to brazenly tear off their masks and quicken their pace. They’ve carefully packaged this signal and are spreading it at top speed through the many channels of influence they control."

"They want every Baron Valen, every Head Tax Collector, and every local magnate to realize, in a timely manner, that the shackle around their necks has loosened—or at least, it appears to have. Now is the perfect time to expand their power, hoard wealth, and eliminate their rivals."

"How much of it is exaggerated, distorted, or guided by ulterior motives during its spread... that’s not important. What’s important is that it achieves its purpose: to muddy the waters, to let the desires and conflicts that were once suppressed be unleashed prematurely and with twice the force."

A chill ran up Eleanor’s spine as she listened.

She thought of the Glamorgan Count’s idealistic but unrealized vision, of Deacon Byron’s lonely stand, of the burned boy’s vacant eyes...

In the vast, cold chess game her father described, all this individual suffering and struggle seemed to become insignificant dust, swept up and torn apart by the storms the players so easily conjured.

Eleanor lowered her head, no longer looking at the heartbreaking scenes outside the window. She reopened the notebook on her lap, but her gaze didn’t fall on the complex runes. It was distant and empty.

Aurora sighed softly and reached out, taking her daughter’s slightly cold hand.

The carriage was quiet for a moment, filled only with the rhythmic sound of the wheels and the muffled whistling of the wind outside.

Murphy suddenly spoke, his voice calm and steady. "You want to do something about it, don’t you?"

Eleanor flinched slightly. She looked up, her dark eyes meeting her father’s profound gaze.

She opened her mouth, then pressed her lips together. Conflict flashed in her eyes before she finally whispered, "I... I don’t."

Murphy watched her, his expression unreadable. He then asked slowly, "Eleanor, do you think it’s enough for a person to simply ’live’ in this world? Like a stone by the road, or wheat in a field that only knows how to grow?"

The question stunned Eleanor.

She instinctively wanted to object, but the words caught in her throat, transforming into a more complex thought. "No... I don’t think so. People aren’t stones, or wheat. But..."

She paused, her voice growing softer. "I’m not just one person. I’m a daughter of the Monte family, your daughter, the heir to the Temeris Territory. My ’wants’ can’t just be about what ’I want.’"

"If I get involved in this vortex, it could bring trouble to the Monte Territory and to everyone. I... I don’t want to put everyone in danger because of my impulse."

"So," Murphy’s voice remained even, "you choose ’I don’t’? Because of your status and responsibility, you suppress that ’want’ that rises in your heart when you see injustice?"

Eleanor was at a loss, her clasped fingers tightening until her long, slender knuckles turned white.

She couldn’t deny her father’s words.

When she saw the burned boy’s empty gaze, when she saw the old woman’s desperate shrieks, when she thought about the cruel things happening in the world... having grown up in the peace and prosperity of the Monte Territory, a powerful urge to do *something* had indeed surged within her.

But she knew that impulse was wrong, because...

Just then, Murphy spoke again. His voice wasn’t loud, but it struck her like a clap of thunder.

"Go."

"Father?" Eleanor’s head snapped up, her eyes filled with disbelief.

She almost thought she had misheard.

Murphy’s gaze fell upon her face. In his eyes, usually so deep and inscrutable, her reflection was now perfectly clear.

"It is precisely because I am your father, Eleanor. So, as long as it’s a path you believe is right, a path you want to walk, I am willing to bear the consequences it may bring—be it trouble, or anything else. That is my most basic responsibility as your father."

"But..." Eleanor began, trying to say something urgently.

"No buts," Murphy interrupted her. "You are still young, Eleanor. At your age, you don’t need to be burdened by so many ’buts.’ Your will, your judgment, your choice—those are what’s most precious. Just follow your heart. The Monte Territory and I are not yet so fragile that we cannot withstand you following your heart once."

Aurora, who had been listening quietly, gently patted the back of her daughter’s hand. Her sapphire-blue eyes were full of tenderness.

"Your father is right, Eleanor. A person in this world doesn’t just need to live; they need to live as themselves. You have strength, you have heart, and you have us. Since you can’t let it go in your heart, then go."

Eleanor looked at her father’s calm face and felt the warmth from her mother’s hand.

The impulse she had suppressed with reason, like a wildfire fanned by a spring breeze, instantly reignited and blazed fiercely. The last trace of hesitation in her eyes vanished, replaced by a determined light.

She bit her lip and said nothing more, just gave a firm nod.

Then, she took a deep breath, her gaze instantly becoming focused and sharp. Her fingers, resting on her lap, twitched slightly, and an extremely faint ripple spread through the air.

The next moment, her figure dissolved like a reflection in wind-blown water. Under Aurora and Murphy’s watchful eyes, she silently and completely vanished from the carriage.

All that remained was a shallow impression on the cushioned seat where she had been, and the faint, fresh scent of a young woman lingering in the air.

The carriage continued to jolt along its path as if nothing had happened.

Only Murphy and Aurora were left inside.

Aurora turned her head to look at Murphy’s tranquil profile, a soft light reflecting in her sapphire-blue eyes.

She also reached out, gently placing her hand over his on his knee.

"Murphy, you too. If there’s something you want to do, just do it. Don’t always keep everything hidden in your heart."

Murphy turned his head as well, his gaze falling on Aurora’s concerned face.

He gently took her soft hand in his and shook his head. "No, Aurora. There’s nothing I want to do."

Aurora frowned slightly, squeezing his hand. "A person can’t just live in this world. Those were your words."

Murphy was silent for a moment. His gaze seemed to drift somewhere far away before slowly returning.

He tightened his grip on Aurora’s hand, his voice low and clear. "Yes, a person can’t just live. But I have you all. I have the lands of the Monte Territory to protect, and I have Eleanor and Kaiden to watch over as they grow... For me, that is already enough."

He paused, an indescribable complexity in his tone. "If... if time could be reversed, perhaps there would be no regrets."

Hearing this, Aurora shook her head gently, her golden hair shimmering in the light from the window. "But how can time be reversed? I’m afraid not even Oriane could do such a thing. Otherwise, wouldn’t everything in this world have already reached Perfection?"

Murphy looked at his wife’s earnest expression. "Yes, it can’t be done. And even if it could..." He paused. "Perhaps... I wouldn’t necessarily do it anymore."

Aurora seemed a little lost at his words, but she didn’t press him. She just rested her head lightly on Murphy’s shoulder, taking in his familiar scent and warmth.

She said softly, "No matter what you decide, Murphy, and no matter your reasons, I will support you. I always will."

Murphy put his other arm gently around Aurora’s shoulders.

"Then let’s make Eleanor a little happier. In the end, Margaret herself doesn’t really count as my gift to her."

Aurora nodded.

"Then count it as my share, too. I’ll help Eleanor deal with the aftermath."