Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 73: Sylvan’s Crown of Thorns

Murphy’s voice rang out calmly in the cave. "Start from your earliest memory. Tell me every important event, all the way up to the territory’s current situation. Remember, I want every single detail."

Sylvan began to speak, trembling. "I... I wet the bed for the first time when I was three... At five, my mother punished me for stealing candied fruit from the kitchen... At seven..." His voice, choked with sobs, rambled on incoherently. "...The territory only has fifteen followers now, and no Knights... Viscount Hans won’t let us rebuild the trade routes..." 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

"Keep talking." Murphy’s voice was devoid of emotion.

"When I was twelve, I broke a vase in the east wing corridor of the castle... At fourteen, I secretly got drunk and passed out in the stables..." Sylvan was on the verge of a mental breakdown from the torture. Terrified of further punishment, he was ready to confess even which road he’d peed on as a child. "The territory’s treasury only has three hundred Gold Coins left... The Church Court took thirty percent of the tax revenue..."

Murphy suddenly interrupted, "If I find out a single word of this is a lie..."

His gaze swept over the water jug set to the side.

"I wouldn’t dare! I absolutely wouldn’t dare!" Sylvan shook his head in terror, fresh tears welling up. "I swear it’s all true! I even told you about my mother’s ambition and her illegitimate child with the Roton Knight..."

About half an hour later, Murphy tied Sylvan back to the bed with clean, efficient movements.

Sylvan could no longer hold back and screamed hoarsely, "What do you want?! The title? The territory? The Gold Coins? I can give you anything, just let me go!"

"Right," Murphy said, as if suddenly remembering something. "Your clothes."

Sylvan froze, watching as Murphy began to unbutton his magnificent overcoat.

He was confused at first, then he abruptly recalled the Sin of Mayina, as recorded in the doctrines of the God of Stars and Truth.

According to the doctrine, the Sin of Mayina was the lewd act between those of the same sex—a depravity that violated the Law of Nature and would incur the punishment of a city burned by heavenly fire.

A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but remembering the mentally shattering water torture from before, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes.

He would endure anything to avoid experiencing that torment again.

However, what he expected did not happen.

When he opened his eyes in confusion, he saw that Murphy had already taken his silk overcoat and was turning to leave.

"Wait!" Sylvan blurted out.

Murphy stopped but didn’t turn around. "What is it?"

Sylvan opened his mouth. The words ’Aren’t you going to commit the Sin of Mayina?’ died on his lips, replaced by, "I’m cold... I need clothes."

Murphy walked back, untied his restraints, and casually tossed him a pile of coarse linen clothes.

The clothes were not only old and filthy, but also reeked of a pungent stench of feces and sweat.

Sylvan subconsciously frowned.

Even during his most desperate days of exile in the south, he had never worn such foul garments.

But when he looked up and met Murphy’s terrifyingly calm eyes, he put them on with trembling hands.

The rough fabric chafed his delicate skin, and the foul stench continuously assaulted his nostrils.

Murphy tied Sylvan to the bed again. Sylvan fought back the urge to gag, watching as Murphy disappeared into the depths of the cave with his clothes, his heart filled with humiliation and confusion.

’Damned lowlife! When I get out of here, I’ll make you suffer every torture known to man!’

Sylvan cursed viciously in his heart.

Just then, the sound of footsteps returned.

Sylvan’s eyes flew open in terror as he watched Murphy’s figure reappear in the firelight.

"Wh-what are you back for?" Sylvan’s voice trembled with fear.

Murphy said nothing. He simply picked up the empty water jug and, under Sylvan’s horrified gaze, carefully tied it back onto his head.

Having done all this, Murphy turned and left again, leaving Sylvan alone to face the water jug.

Although Sylvan’s head wasn’t tied down this time and he could move it, he was still terrified.

He stared intently at the water jug above him, terrified that it would suddenly start dripping again.

He only breathed a small sigh of relief after confirming the jug was indeed empty.

But in that moment, even the courage to curse in his heart vanished.

...

Night enveloped the Northern Territory. Murphy moved swiftly through the snow, the drifts crunching under his feet.

Falling snowflakes slapped against his face, but they did nothing to slow his pace.

’Sylvan, that prodigal son who let the wolf into the house,’ Murphy sneered inwardly. ’And the Lady Baron is no better. To think they’d run a perfectly good Duval Territory into the ground like this.’

He thought back on the intelligence he had just extracted from Sylvan.

The Duval Territory was now like a great tree, hollowed out by termites. It still stood on the surface, but its core was long since rotten.

Fifteen followers, an empty treasury, and hardly any warhorses left...

’Still, this suits my purposes perfectly.’

If the Duval Territory hadn’t fallen into such decay, how could the defenses at the Baron’s Castle have been so lax, allowing him to abduct Sylvan so easily?

Of course, this was also related to the fact that Sylvan himself had let his guard down.

According to the Noble Inheritance Technique he had just learned about from Sylvan, the nobility had their own set of unspoken rules.

The Duval Territory was now like a piece of fruit pulp squeezed dry. If Viscount Hans were to make another move against Sylvan, not only would there be little to gain, but it would also attract more attention from the Noble Council and the Church Court. The losses would outweigh the gains.

For a Baron’s Domain to fall so low that it wasn’t even worth the trouble of an assassination showed just how badly Sylvan and his mother had ruined the territory.

However, there was one thing that Murphy found quite satisfactory.

Despite the financial straits, the supply of the Knight’s Secret Medicine was still guaranteed.

A territory’s combat strength depended not only on its Knights and followers, but also on equipment, warhorses, and the expenses for other soldiers.

This was like the relationship between nuclear weapons and conventional equipment in his previous life. Although nuclear weapons were crucial, their share of military spending was far lower than that of conventional equipment.

The Knight’s Secret Medicine was the nuclear weapon; the difficulty lay in acquiring a monopoly, not the cost.

Of course, this cost was relative to other expenses. Even if the Knight’s Secret Medicine were made available for commoners to purchase, they wouldn’t be able to afford it.

Moreover, as the foundation of noble rule, the supply of the Knight’s Secret Medicine would be prioritized even in the most difficult of circumstances.

Murphy calculated. ’Even in the most extreme circumstances, a few cutbacks on the extravagant food and clothing expenses at the Baron’s Castle would be enough to maintain the budget for the Secret Medicine. In fact, just supplying me alone would be sufficient.’

SPLAT. SPLAT.

The snow grew heavier, and Murphy’s figure moved quickly through the night.

In the distance, the silhouette of Baron Duval’s Castle gradually came into view.

The watchtower torches flickered sparsely, a stark contrast to its former glory.

"I’m here," Murphy murmured, slipping into the Baron’s Castle once again.

As for Sylvan, he couldn’t die yet. There was no way he could have revealed much information in such a short amount of time.

He needed to be kept alive for a while longer.