Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 411: Chapter 87: A Mortal’s Story

The courtyard was built of white stone. The surrounding walls were not high, but they were thick and solid. The main building within was a three-story house with clean lines, bearing the distinct architectural style of the Church Court.

The location was excellent. It avoided the clamor of the lower city districts while offering a view of the bustling streets below, and it was a moderate distance from core areas like Chenxi Hall on the summit—a testament to the care taken in its arrangement.

"Your Excellency, the coronation ceremony is scheduled for seven days from now, to be held in Truth Plaza in front of Chenxi Hall." The Old Deacon led Murphy and his followers into the main hall, explaining in detail, "Before the ceremony begins, a dedicated master of ceremonies will come to explain the procedures and your position. During this time, you may rest here or tour the Holy City. If you have any needs, there are servants outside the courtyard at your disposal."

Murphy gave a slight nod. "I appreciate it."

Not long after the Deacon left, just as expected, visitors’ calling cards began to arrive at the courtyard.

There were emissaries from various Duchies and Kingdoms, representatives of Bishops from different factions within the Church Court, and even two visiting Legendary Knights sent their greetings.

Murphy politely declined all visits, giving the excuse that he was slightly unwell from the long journey and needed to rest and recover.

Davis and Luke dutifully guarded the inside and outside of the courtyard gate, politely turning away wave after wave of visitors.

After dealing with these trivial matters, Murphy noticed that although Luke and several other young followers stood ramrod straight, their gazes kept drifting to the window, their eyes filled with curiosity and longing for this legendary city.

Though Davis was composed, a trace of excitement that was hard to completely conceal flickered deep in his eyes.

Murphy maneuvered his wheelchair to the window. Looking at the silhouette of the Holy City dyed golden-red by the setting sun, he suddenly spoke, "Davis, Luke."

"Sir!" The two immediately snapped to attention, turning to answer.

"You’ve had a long journey, and it’s not often one gets to visit the Holy City." Murphy’s voice was calm. "I’m giving you some time off. Tonight and tomorrow, you can go out and have a look around."

A flash of surprised delight lit up Luke’s eyes, but he quickly suppressed it, puffed out his chest, and said, "Sir, our duty is to protect you! How could we possibly abandon our post!"

Davis also nodded firmly. "Luke is right, Sir. The Holy City may be orderly, but it’s filled with all sorts of people. We can’t leave your side."

Murphy glanced at them, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Do I need your protection?"

He paused. "This is my command. Go and see. The Knights of the Monte Territory should see for themselves what the heart of the Continent looks like. However, remember who you are, watch your words and actions, and don’t cause any trouble."

"This..." Davis and Luke looked at each other. In the end, they dared not defy the command and replied in unison, "Yes, Sir! Thank you for your grace, Sir!"

The young followers nearly cheered out loud, and even Davis’s face relaxed into a hint of a smile.

They quickly arranged their shifts, leaving behind a skeleton crew. The rest, filled with excitement and anticipation, hurried out of the courtyard and blended into the lamp-lit streets of the Holy City.

The courtyard fell quiet.

Murphy sat alone before the great hall’s window, gazing out at the thousands of lights beginning to twinkle across the city and the eternal Holy Light of Chenxi Hall in the distance.

The Holy City at night was more mysterious and solemn than during the day. The scent of incense wafting through the air also seemed richer.

About an hour later, just as night had completely enveloped the Mountain City, an extremely faint sound of a soft landing came from outside the courtyard’s side wall.

A slender figure vaulted over the wall like a nocturnal cat, landing without a sound before quickly melting into the building’s shadows.

She wore a simple, dark gray Maid’s dress. The fabric was coarse, the style dated.

Her hair was wrapped tightly in a matching headscarf, not a single wisp showing at her temples.

Her face seemed to be coated in some kind of dulling powder, making her once-fair skin appear sallow and wan. Her features had been simply altered to look utterly plain.

However, when she slipped silently into the hall and raised her eyes from the shadows to look toward the window, those eyes, in the dim light, were as black as ink—clear and pure, yet holding an indescribable complexity.

Murphy did not turn around. His gaze remained on the distant Holy Light and the city lights, as if he were completely unaware of the movement behind him.

The figure stood silently in the corner’s shadow, making no sound, simply standing there as if she were a part of the darkness itself.

The hall was silent, save for the faint, distant chime of bells and the whisper of wind—sounds unique to a night in the Holy City—drifting in from outside the window.

After a long while—perhaps a few minutes, perhaps longer—Elizabeth’s calm voice finally broke the silence:

"Sir, didn’t I tell you not to come? Why did you come anyway?"

Murphy slowly drew his gaze back, not looking at her in the shadows, but toward the deeper night sky outside the window:

"There are some things one must come for."

Elizabeth fell silent for a moment. In the shadows, her body seemed to tense slightly.

She spoke again, her voice now tinged with bitterness:

"Is it about your lifespan?"

Murphy did not answer immediately.

Elizabeth took his silence as confirmation. She sighed softly. "Of course... No one in this world can escape the confines of their lifespan. Even for a Legend like you, a hundred years is ultimately fleeting when faced with the vastness of time and an unfinished guardianship."

Listening to her words, Murphy slowly turned his head, his calm gaze falling upon the pair of ink-black eyes in the shadows: