Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 412: Chapter 87: A Story for Mortals

"I’m just a worldly man. There’s nothing wrong with seeking a longer life."

Elizabeth met his gaze. "You’re right. It’s only human to want a longer life to protect what you hold dear. There’s nothing wrong with that."

"But the danger... My Lord, you know the situation in the Holy City better than I do. Saint Cyril and his faction are determined to have the Morning Star Bell and will stop at nothing. Coming here now, seeking a blessing that might originate from the Holy Bell, means you’re walking right into the heart of their game. You’ll become a variable they can’t ignore, and possibly a target to be used or eliminated. The risks involved are far beyond ordinary."

Murphy’s expression remained calm as he looked at the genuine worry in Elizabeth’s eyes.

"Some risks are a price that must be paid. Such is the nature of most choices in this world."

Elizabeth watched him silently. In the shadows, she pursed her lips, as if wanting to say more, but in the end, she said nothing.

She understood. His arrival wasn’t a rash impulse or the result of temptation, but a decision he had carefully considered.

And his decision, right or wrong, was not something she could sway.

Silence fell between them once more.

Outside the window, the lights of the Holy City shone brilliantly, and stars twinkled in the night sky.

In the end, Elizabeth didn’t press the matter further. She only said, "Seven days from now, in front of Chenxi Hall, be careful. The bell... might not ring the way certain people hope it will."

After saying this, her figure retreated as quietly as it had appeared, melting back into the shadows along the wall until she vanished, as if she had never been there at all.

...

Truth Plaza, in front of Chenxi Hall, had been arranged with solemn majesty, prepared for the coronation ceremony in seven days—an event destined to go down in history.

But even before the official toll of the bell, the vortex within the Holy City had already begun to churn.

For days, the noble manors, Church Court offices, and major monasteries scattered throughout the Mountain City played host to a string of banquets and gatherings of all sizes.

For the various factions gathered here, these events were a chance to strengthen ties and exchange information, but more importantly, an opportunity to observe the future power dynamics up close and take the measure of one another.

As the Thunder Sword, Murphy naturally received a great number of invitations.

He declined most of them, but a few formal banquets hosted by high-ranking members of the Church Court or Legendary Powerhouses of similar stature required his attendance out of courtesy.

That evening, the banquet was held in an elegant palace under the administration of the Cardinal Court.

The hall’s dome was high and vast, its stained-glass windows shimmering with iridescent colors under the glow of magical lights.

The air was filled with a mixture of expensive incense, fine food and wine, and fresh flowers. Nobles in magnificent attire, composed high-ranking Church officials, and a few Legendary Powerhouses of transcendent status like Murphy, gathered in small groups, conversing in low voices.

Murphy sat in his wheelchair near a pillar on one of the hall’s quieter sides.

He had not made any effort to hide, but the presence of his wheelchair naturally created a clear space around him.

While there, Murphy saw a few familiar faces.

One was Archbishop John of the Vilt Kingdom’s Crescent District in the Northern Territory. A kindly-faced man in his sixties, he approached Murphy’s side to greet him. "Lord Melfield, it is an honor to see you here. The peace and prosperity of the Monte Territory in recent years is truly a blessing for the entire Northern Territory."

Archbishop Fernandez of the Southern Territory accompanied him. "Count O’Connor, the stability and prosperity of the Temeris Territory are all thanks to your governance and that of the Lord Duke."

Murphy replied calmly, "I was only doing my duty. Thank you for your concern, Archbishop."

Afterward, Murphy also saw the five Archbishops who had fought in the Battle of Blackstone Fortress.

Their leader, Archbishop Aster, his hair now completely white, spoke. "Your Excellency, it has been a long time. I trust your blade is as reassuring as ever."

The other four bowed in turn.

Murphy returned their greetings one by one.

A quick glance around the hall revealed more than thirty such Archbishops.

They were scattered throughout the room, some conversing with nobles they knew, others murmuring amongst themselves.

Every one of them was a powerhouse at the Official Wizard level.

The sheer depth of the Church Court’s power was evident from this one banquet alone.

Just then, a slight stir rippled from the entrance of the hall.

A middle-aged man dressed in the crimson robes of a Cardinal stepped into the hall.

He was handsome and well-preserved, with an exquisite crystal monocle perched on the bridge of his nose and a gentle, amiable smile on his lips.

"That’s Cardinal Adrian," Archbishop John told Murphy. "He’s from the ancient Valkyrie Clan. For centuries, that family has had deep, intricate ties to the Church Court, producing several Cardinals and high-ranking members of the Templar Order. He himself is known for his mastery of canon law and his diplomatic finesse. He’s one of Cardinal Cyril’s staunchest supporters and is said to wield considerable influence within the College of Cardinals."

Cardinal Adrian did not walk directly toward the center of the crowd. Instead, his gaze swept slowly across the room, as if surveying his domain, nodding to various Archbishops and important nobles.

His eyes paused for a moment as they swept past Murphy, and for a silent instant, their gazes met.

The smile on his lips seemed to deepen. From across the room, he gave a slight nod in Murphy’s direction—a graceful and perfectly proper gesture.

Murphy inclined his head in return.

Below the rank of Cardinal, aside from the Archbishops, two other important figures were particularly noteworthy.

One was Ostun, the chief military advisor to the Golden Coast Duke.