Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 51: The Death of Murphy

Strangely, Murphy felt no anger at the Shadow Horse’s parting arrogance.

He lay on the ground, feeling his Life Force ebb away from his wounds, clearly counting his broken ribs.

Waves of excruciating pain washed over him, yet he remained exceptionally calm.

For five years, he had single-handedly shouldered the workload of two men.

The other warhorses were tended to by pairs—one person to steady the animal, the other to scrub it down. He, however, had to soothe his horse and clean it all by himself.

When preparing fodder, others had partners to help mix it, but he had to do it all—chopping the hay, mixing the feed—completely on his own.

On the night watch, grooms in other stables took shifts, but he had to wake throughout the night to check on Red Leaf.

He did all this just so he could have a legitimate reason to keep the Deduction of fine feed all to himself.

All so he could successfully practice his Breathing and Guiding Cultivation.

All so he could complete Option Two.

’And now, have all my efforts, all my forbearance, led to this meaningless end?’

Murphy thought of Option Two, which he had been so close to completing. He thought of the future he had planned, of achieving immortality.

Everything that had been just within his grasp, all his lofty ambitions, would now vanish like smoke as his life faded away.

He couldn’t accept it. He just couldn’t!

’Why now, when I was so close to my goal?’

’If only I had unleashed that burst of adrenaline sooner... If only I had been more careful...’

But...

What did it matter if he couldn’t accept it? It was all over.

Murphy began to recall every choice he’d made since his past-life memories returned.

’Maybe I shouldn’t have refused Arthur’s offer. I might have been able to borrow a suit of Leather Armor.’

’Maybe after getting my fill of the Baron’s Castle’s benefits, I should have left yesterday. I could have become a wandering Ranger and avoided Option One.’

’Maybe I should have left five years ago. I shouldn’t have been so greedy for the rewards from the options. I could have settled down somewhere instead of wandering, just to see if the missions would refresh.’

’Is this my fate?’

Murphy gazed at the bright moon and suddenly felt that all his struggles had been in vain.

Ever since his past-life memories returned, he had done nothing but fight to survive.

He’d worked hard raising horses, cultivating his Qi, and living as carefully as he could.

And yet, in the end, he couldn’t escape this fate.

’At least...’

’I tried.’

Murphy’s vision blurred, and the excruciating pain began to feel distant.

His mind drifted to the world he came from, to that peaceful, quiet time before he’d been reincarnated.

Then he remembered the little moments from this life.

The nights in the barracks, sharing honey and cheese with Bart and Hank. His last conversation with Old Yor in the morning mist.

The first time he practiced Breathing and Guiding, feeling the coolness of Qi flowing through his meridians. The first time he cared for a warhorse, the warmth of its affectionate nuzzle against his palm.

And...

Father... Mother... His little sister...

The memories flooded in.

The setting sun at dusk. His father, putting on his worn, thick linen clothes, ruffled his hair forcefully before leaving. "Murphy," he’d said, "once I’m back from this war, our family will be exempt from taxes for three years. When that time comes..."

His father’s voice trailed off, his eyes glinting with hope. "I’m going to start a vegetable garden behind the house. I’ll plant your favorite red-root vegetables."

The dead of night. His mother, standing by the door, forcing a smile despite her weakness. "It’s all right," she’d said. "We still have last year’s dried beans. Once your father comes home, everything will be fine."

The darkness before the dawn. His little sister, curled in a corner, pressing her last, treasured breadcrumb into his hand. Her own little hand was ice-cold. "Brother, you eat it," she’d whispered. "You have to live... That’s more important than anything."

And then the dawn came, when he set out for the recruitment trials at the Baron’s Castle.

’So be it...’

Murphy felt a strange sense of peace.

All his anger, indignation, regret, and remorse vanished in that instant.

DONG!

A deep, melodious bell toll echoed from the distance. It was the bronze bell of the chapel on the castle’s east side, marking the hour.

Ever since the Baron had fallen gravely ill, the bell had rung at dawn every day, summoning people to pray for him.

’Is it dawn already...?’

Murphy wondered.

’I might have completed the requirements for Option Two. Even though I won’t be able to see the reward, at least I didn’t give up halfway.’

His breathing grew fainter, his heartbeat slowing to a stop.

The last thing he saw was the flickering lamplight at the far end of the corridor.

’Someone’s coming...’

It was Murphy’s last conscious tho...

’No!’

’No!’

’This isn’t it!’

’Absolutely not!’

’Can I really accept this?’

’Do I really not want to live?’

’Am I really willing to die like this?’

A voice from the depths of his being questioned him.

Why was he content to remain in the Baron’s Castle as a lowly Groom?

Was it really just for the reward from Option Two?

Was it really just to covet the nutrition he skimmed from the warhorses’ feed?

Was it really because he hated the precarious, hand-to-mouth existence of a Ranger?

Another image surfaced from the depths of his memory.

He was sitting by the ruins of his home, inside Tom’s house, listening as his old neighbor—a man who used to bully him—used his last ounce of strength to gasp out a desperate question: "Why... why do the Lord Baron’s horses get to live in warm stables and eat fine feed... while we... we’re like weeds by the roadside, worth less than a horse...?"

’In the end, the Baron is my enemy, too!’

The thought struck Murphy like a bolt of lightning.

He had stayed at the Baron’s Castle to eat the Baron’s food and use the Baron’s resources, all while watching the nobleman who had destroyed countless families slowly waste away.

And if the Baron’s decline wasn’t happening fast enough, the thought of giving it a little push had certainly crossed his mind.

’That’s right, a little push.’

It was a dangerous game, to be sure.

One wrong move could lead to his death.

But...

So what?

Murphy knew that if he was willing to just lay low and avoid all conflict, he could rely on his Immortal Cultivation System to achieve true longevity, even immortality. It wasn’t just a pipe dream.

With an endless lifespan and infinite Divine Abilities, he might truly be able to retrieve all that was lost—pulling them back from the cycle of reincarnation, or even from the river of time itself.

Compared to that magnificent future, his current risks and his desire to vent his hatred were trivial and foolish.

But...

On the day he finally became an immortal patriarch, with the power to watch eras rise and fall...

would he...

still want to save them?

After countless trials and seeing all the mortal world had to offer, with his lifespan stretched to infinity...

would these ripples from the very beginning of his long path to immortality fade into just that—ripples?

Would they become as meaningless as dust on the roadside, unable to stir even the faintest flutter in his heart?

’That wouldn’t be me. At least, not the me I am now!’

So he couldn’t die. Not now!

’If I’m going to die, it will be after I’ve had my revenge!’

SNAP!

Murphy’s eyes flew open, a dark light swirling within them.

SNORT!

Just then, Red Leaf, who had been dozing on its feet, awoke and moved to the trough to leisurely chew its feed.

Watching the scene, Murphy smiled.

He got to his feet, picked up his Knight’s Sword, and walked over to stroke Red Leaf’s neck. A moment later, the horse fell into a deep sleep once more, a bit of unchewed feed still lingering at the corner of its mouth.

...

「Early morning」

Dire news came from the Baron’s Inner Castle. The Baron was dead.