Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

The song was not in the language of the Vilt Kingdom, nor was it in Phlanis, and certainly not the Ancient Xien Language known to the nobles.

It was a peculiar melody, like the telepathic communication of the four Wizards—a language that reached directly into the depths of the soul.

And so, everyone understood it.

Whether it was the high and mighty Pope, Legends, and nobles, the commoners cowering amidst the ruins, or the suffering souls struggling in the floodwaters as the Withering Wind stole their life force, the song manifested in their consciousness as clearly as a brand.

But to hear the words was not necessarily to understand their full meaning.

It was like facing an advanced mathematics textbook written in one’s native tongue. Every word was familiar, the sentence structure clear, yet not everyone could grasp the meaning contained within.

What the commoners felt was more of an impact—an emotional and symbolic one.

It was a lament for wandering and a yearn for home, a longing for peace and warmth, a sorrow and rage for the sudden disaster, and a resolute will that refused to remain faint, aspiring to become an eternal star to illuminate the world.

In the murky floodwaters, a middle-aged man clung desperately to a floating wooden beam, his face a mixture of filth and despair.

When the imagery from the song—"the starved dead choke the rivers, crows peck at graves; in desolate villages, broken arrows and fields of clotted blood"—flooded his mind, his body trembled violently. He remembered the grain sacks swept away by the flood and his sick mother at home. A guttural, beast-like roar escaped his throat as his arms, clinging to the beam, surged with a final burst of strength. His clouded eyes stared fixedly at a distant rooftop not yet completely submerged.

Under a half-collapsed eave, a few children huddled together, their crying ceasing.

They couldn’t understand the complex words, but for some reason, they felt a sense of warmth and security, as if an unseen hand were gently stroking their heads.

One of them, a slightly older boy, held his younger siblings tightly. He lifted his small, dust-streaked face and looked toward the floating smallsword and the blurry figure at the altar, a faint glimmer of light rekindling in his eyes.

An old woman who had just lost her son sat limply in the filthy water, her eyes vacant.

When the sorrow and helplessness of the lyrics—"Flames of disaster consume the rivers, burning away lives like ants; fierce winds scour the earth, shattering bodies like duckweed"—washed over her, they resonated with the immense grief in her heart.

Her chapped lips trembled, and finally, a heart-wrenching wail broke free. Tears mixed with muddy water streamed down her face, as if she were trying to cry out all her suffering.

More survivors, whether hiding in relatively safe corners or still struggling for their lives in the water, felt a complex mix of emotions stir within them after understanding the humble plea of "only wishing for a steady fire to warm a frost-covered bowl" and the grand Wish Power of "vowing to become an everlasting, brilliant star."

Fear still remained.

But the unyielding spirit conveyed in the song was like a faint ray of light, piercing through the gloom of despair.

As one, they turned their gazes toward the source of the song—

The sword.

The figure.

The reactions from the crowd in the viewing area were varied.

William IV’s expression flickered, his suspicion and astonishment growing. ’He possesses such magnanimity? No, this must be a ploy to win the people’s hearts! A Wizard, disguised as a Knight and hidden for years, now reveals himself and sings such words of pity. His ambitions must be immense!’

He was wary of Murphy’s power and the depth of his concealment, and also unsettled by the potential appeal his words might have for the commoners.

Legendary Knight Otto’s brow was tightly furrowed as he mulled over the two lines: "Spirit Root Tempering Jade Foundation Establishment Realm, Sword Spirit Condensing Light Breaks Taiqing."

As a Legendary Knight, he intimately understood the hardships of the Path of power.

To his ears, these two lines sounded more like a declaration, an explanation of his own Path of cultivation.

A light flickered sharply in the depths of the Ironspine Duke’s grey-blue eyes.

"Like a weed adrift in a foreign land, the traveler’s heart is shaken..." he repeated softly. "Twenty years in a warm nest... suddenly seeing the smoke of war..."

His gaze swept over the victims below, then shifted back to Murphy’s ethereal form. His face was expressionless; no one knew what he was thinking.

Elizabeth sat limply on the ground, the tear tracks on her pale face now covered by fresh, hot tears.

Her dark eyes stared unblinkingly at Murphy’s ethereal form, her very soul seeming to resonate with the song in perfect harmony.

’A life of ups and downs... adrift in a foreign land...’ She recalled her own loneliness and uncertainty when she chose to leave the Vilt Royal Family, enter the Holy City, and become a Saint.

’Suddenly seeing the smoke of war... only wishing for a cooking fire...’ She saw the tragedy unfolding below, feeling its heart-piercing pain and powerlessness.

’Refusing to be a mere ember... vowing to become an eternal light...’ She clenched her fists abruptly, her nails digging deep into her palms.

She understood!

She was certain she understood!

Her Lord... he had seen the suffering of this world, heard the wails of those as insignificant as ants, and from this, a resolute will was born—a will to change it all, to illuminate everything, even at the cost of himself!

To save the world and its people, no matter how uncertain the Path ahead.

"My Lord..." she murmured without a sound, tears blurring her vision. Yet the ethereal figure only grew clearer and taller in her eyes.

The Imperial Chancellor of the Rotalia Empire stroked his beard, a sharp glint in his eyes. He said to Ulysses in a low voice, "This song... He has rejected everyone, be it the Church Court or those Wizards. ’The Changming Star’... Heh, what audacity. What a lonely Path."

Director Ulysses nodded slightly, his gaze sharp. "He intends to walk his own Path. A Path that might just upend the entire political landscape of the Continent. Because of this song, the balance of the Continent may be about to change."

Third Prince Charles listened with some confusion. He felt the song’s magnificent power and his heart surged with emotion, but he couldn’t quite grasp its deeper meaning. He could only sigh in a low voice, "What... what spirit!"