Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 66: Rotton’s Regret

The armor on Rotton’s chest had been completely pierced by a sharp weapon. Blood still oozed from the wound, which was deep enough to expose bone.

His left arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. His face was covered in cuts, deep and shallow alike. His breathing was so faint it was barely perceptible.

The worst was the gash on his abdomen; the faint outline of his organs was visible. He was clearly on death’s door.

Murphy’s heart sank.

’First Bishop Alberto, then that mysterious Warlock, and now even the Roton Knight’s life is hanging by a thread?’

These incidents, one after another, set off alarm bells in his mind.

’Could it be Baron’s Castle... No! Did something major happen at Gray Rock Outpost?’

The news of the Lady Baron’s dispute with the Roton Knight flashed through Murphy’s mind, followed by the thought of other nobles who might be meddling in the affairs of the Baron’s Domain.

’From the looks of it, Sylvan must have brought a wolf into his own house, and he actually succeeded.’

Murphy didn’t know whether to call Sylvan foolish or to blame the late Baron and Kelvin for their indecisiveness.

But he knew very well that none of them were nearly as ruthless and decisive as Sylvan.

The future of the Baron’s Domain was now deeply concerning.

Just then, Rotton, leaning against the roots of a tree, suddenly moved. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

He struggled to prop himself up with his Knight’s Sword. Each inch he moved was accompanied by a pained gasp, yet he stubbornly crawled deeper into the mountain forest.

He left a shocking trail of blood in his wake.

Murphy was instantly puzzled. ’Rotton is this gravely injured, so why is he still heading for the border?’

’It’s understandable that he isn’t returning to the outpost.’

’Sylvan’s men are probably already waiting there.’

’But fleeing to the border... is he planning to defect to an enemy kingdom?’

It wasn’t impossible.

The nobles of this world had countless unwritten rules. One was that, outside of active warfare, even enemies would afford each other a certain degree of dignity.

Besides, while the Vilt Kingdom and the northern Rosenia Kingdom were constantly at war over religious issues—with a major conflict breaking out every few decades—it wasn’t at all uncommon for their noble families to intermarry.

If Rotton were to escape there, with his strength as a Knight, he could likely secure decent treatment in the enemy kingdom.

’Should I let him defect?’

’Of course not!’

Rotton, as one of the key figures in the Baron’s Domain, hadn’t actually interacted much with Murphy—but then again, neither had the Baron, who had almost no contact with him at all.

But they were the source.

Or at least, the source of everything happening in this domain.

Therefore, to uphold the dignity of the Vilt Kingdom—and as a citizen of the Iron-blooded Vilt Kingdom—Murphy certainly wouldn’t let a defection happen right before his eyes.

...

With every inch Rotton crawled forward, he felt his bones crying out in agony.

Blood gushed continuously from his wounds, leaving dark stains on the fallen leaves beneath him.

His vision had begun to blur, but his mind kept replaying Sylvan’s savage face.

’I should have gotten rid of that menace back then...’

Rotton screamed inwardly, regret gnawing at him like a venomous snake.

He remembered three years ago. He should have acted decisively when Sylvan left the Northern Territory.

But out of respect for the Baron of the Duval Clan, and because Sylvan was, after all, a child he had watched grow up, he had chosen to back down.

And that smug look on Viscount Hans’s face.

That greedy outsider, a jackal that had taken advantage of their weakness.

Rotton wanted nothing more than to tear apart the bastard who had betrayed the fundamental tenets of the nobility with his bare hands.

What pained him most was Kelvin. He was the heir the Baron had chosen, the one who would have made the Duval Territory prosper again. But in the end, he had died because Rotton’s protection had failed.

’Lord Baron, I have failed you...’

Rotton repented silently in his heart, remembering all the days and nights he and the Old Baron had spent discussing the future of the domain.

Now, he was forced to become a fugitive.

He knew that in the Rosenia Kingdom, he might survive, thanks to the Duval Clan’s past marital alliances.

But the thought of leaving his home and living out a wretched existence on enemy soil filled his heart with confusion and anguish.

’Is this the end I get for a lifetime of loyal service?’

’To flee in disgrace amidst a despicable betrayal, and spend the rest of my life in a foreign land?’

Rotton gritted his teeth and continued to crawl forward, enduring the excruciating pain, but the light in his eyes was fading.

"If you don’t want to live anymore, I can help you on your way."

"Who’s there!" Rotton jerked his head up, forcing himself to focus, and looked in the direction of the voice.

But his grievously wounded body immediately failed him, and he could only vaguely make out a figure in the woods.

Murphy slowly approached. "You don’t want to flee from betrayal only to live out your days in a foreign land, do you? And with injuries like yours, you’ll never make it to the Rosenia Kingdom’s border outpost. Better to rest in peace here and return to the embrace of Oriane."

Rotton could finally see the person’s figure clearly, and his flagging spirits suddenly jolted. "You’re... that Murphy? The Murphy that Kelvin valued? How could you possibly be here? How do you have this kind of power!"

He suddenly realized that approaching him without being noticed was something no ordinary Groom could do. If that were the case, wild beasts would have devoured him in these mountains long ago, yet this young man was completely at ease.

"Who in the world are you? You’re not Murphy!" Lightning seemed to flash through Rotton’s mind as he suddenly connected all the clues: the Baron’s death, Bishop Alberto’s strange fate, and even the much earlier death of Leo’s Groom, Norton.

He roared in fury, "You’re a Wizard! You killed the Baron! You killed the Bishop!"

His anger subsided, instantly replaced by a profound fear.

The Church Court’s long-standing propaganda echoed in his mind: Wizards didn’t just kill a believer’s body, they toyed with their souls.

Death itself was not frightening, but falling into the hands of a Wizard meant he might not even reach the Celestial Kingdom.

At the peak of his terror, Rotton lashed out, dragging his broken body in a lunge toward Murphy.

His movements, however, were agonizingly slow. The violent motion tore his wounds open, and blood sprayed forth.

Murphy simply took a few unhurried steps back, easily avoiding the dying blow.

Seeing that a direct attack was useless, Rotton steeled his heart and feigned exhaustion, collapsing to the ground. He held his breath, waiting for Murphy to get closer so he could launch a final strike.

But Murphy maintained his distance, merely watching him in silence.

Time ticked by, second by second. Rotton’s consciousness gradually faded along with his loss of blood.

RUSTLE...

Finally, the soft sound of footsteps crunching on fallen leaves could be heard.

Rotton knew with certainty that even if he managed to pierce Murphy’s heart, he himself had no chance of survival. But at the very least, that single strike would ensure his soul would not be defiled by the Wizard.

Rotton immediately summoned the last of his consciousness, tightened his grip on his sword’s hilt, and prepared to attack.

RUSTLE.

After that last soft sound, the forest fell silent once more.

The footsteps stopped, just out of his reach.

Rotton’s vision had blurred. Through a blood-red haze, he could barely make out the figure standing there, motionless.

’Murphy...’

’The Groom who always kept his eyes downcast and spoke so softly... was actually a Wizard lurking in the shadows.’

He remembered the images of the Last Judgment on the church’s stained-glass windows. He recalled the Priests’ warnings about Witchcraft—that souls defiled by it would be eternally damned, never to find salvation.

And now, this evil being stood before him, and he didn’t even have the strength to make the sign of the Holy Emblem and pray for protection.

He hated himself for being deceived by this Wizard’s disguise. Hated himself for not seeing through the truth behind all those strange deaths sooner.

If only he had been more vigilant, if only he had reported his discovery to the Church Court in time... But now, it was all too late.

Then, an even more terrifying thought surfaced in Rotton’s mind.

’How much longer will this Wizard remain hidden in the Duval Territory?’

’Sylvan’s usurpation, Viscount Hans’s ambition—they’re nothing compared to the threat of this Wizard.’

He could almost see the castle crumbling to ruin under the Wizard’s dark power, the Duval Clan’s centuries-old legacy destroyed in an instant.

’The domain... is finished...’

As a Knight of the Duval Territory, his oath was to protect this land. Yet now he could only watch helplessly as disaster descended, powerless to stop it.

This despair of utter powerlessness was more painful to him than death itself.

He could almost hear the Old Baron’s voice echoing in his ears—the solemn words he spoke when entrusting the Duval Territory to him.

And now, he had failed that trust.

In the final moment before his consciousness faded completely, tears mixed with blood streamed from Rotton’s eyes.

CLANG!

The Longsword slipped from his fingers.

And so, the Knight who had once been a formidable presence in the Duval Territory passed away quietly, unknown to anyone, in the depths of the dense forest.