Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

"Wake him up?" Uncle Scar’s brow furrowed. "How? Get closer and shout? That Black Light..."

"Just shout!" Ron cut him off, a glint of reckless resolve in his eyes. "We don’t dare get close, but we can shout! Shout loudly! Sir is so powerful, he might hear us! This is the only thing we can do, and it seems like the most direct method available! It’s better to try than to do nothing!"

Uncle Scar looked at Ron’s face, a mixture of fear and determination, then glanced at the mass of darkness that seemed to be silently expanding.

Ron was right. This might be the only sensible option they had, one that didn’t require them to charge in and get themselves killed.

"Alright!" Uncle Scar squeezed out a single word, no longer hesitating.

He took a deep breath and, with all his might, yelled hoarsely at the figure enveloped in the Black Light, "Sir! Wake up! Sir!!"

Ron immediately joined in, "Sir! What’s happening to you! Wake up!! Sir—!!"

Their shouts echoed through the narrow, stench-filled tunnels, striking the cold stone walls and bouncing back to create hollow reverberations.

’It wasn’t that they hadn’t considered other options. But in the face of absolute power and an incomprehensible eeriness, what else could they do? As two souls struggling in the dregs of society, what choice did they have but to use this most primitive, clumsy method to try and awaken a consciousness that might be asleep or lost?’

...

「Nightmare World.」

And so, Murphy took the little girl’s hand and ventured deeper into the forest.

The increasingly dense foliage sliced the moonlight into finer fragments, and the dappled light on the ground grew sparse.

The grass underfoot gradually gave way to a thick, soft carpet of fallen leaves, silencing their footsteps.

They didn’t walk quickly.

The little girl’s bare feet made almost no sound on the fallen leaves, and Murphy’s cloth shoes were quieter still.

The surrounding trees seemed taller and more ancient than the ones on the outskirts. Their trunks were crawling with damp moss and peculiar vines, and in the faint light, the shapes of their branches and leaves appeared twisted and bizarre.

The scenery seemed to shift, yet it remained unchanging.

Similar ancient trees, a similar carpet of leaves, similar shadows swaying gently in the faint breeze.

A sense of direction seemed to lose all meaning here. It was as if the forest itself was an endless, looping labyrinth with no exit.

Only the little girl’s hand, gripping Murphy’s tightly, guided them toward home.

"Brother," the little girl suddenly said, her voice startlingly clear in the silence.

She tilted her head slightly, her large, emerald-green eyes shimmering faintly in the dim light as she looked up at Murphy. "Are you happy you came here?"

Murphy didn’t break his stride. He glanced down at the little girl beside him, who was only waist-high.

A sliver of moonlight pierced a gap in the foliage, illuminating his serene profile.

"Of course, I’m happy." His voice was soft, as if he were placating a real sister. "I’m here with you, after all."

At his words, an even sweeter, more radiant smile blossomed on the little girl’s face. It was a smile so pure it seemed capable of banishing all the deathly silence from the forest.

She nodded emphatically, her voice full of contentment and pride. "Mhm! I think so too! I’m happiest when I’m with my brother!"

She seemed utterly satisfied with his answer. She gave his hand a little swing, and her steps grew a little lighter.

They walked on.

After a while, the trees ahead began to thin.

Then, without warning, a circular clearing appeared before them.

The appearance of the clearing was jarringly abrupt. It was as if the surrounding ancient trees had halted in neat formation at some invisible border, leaving a central patch of barren, black earth about twenty to thirty meters in diameter.

The earth was damp, glistening faintly in the moonlight.

And in the very center of the clearing stood a log cabin.

The cabin looked old, but it appeared to be in good repair.

It was constructed from sturdy, dark brown logs, with a thick, somberly colored thatched roof.

The walls were overgrown with some kind of vine that bore small, pale flowers. The windows were shut tight, the inside pitch-black, with no light peeking through.

What was most striking was the door.

It was a heavy wooden door, a shade darker than the surrounding walls. The door itself was unadorned, showing only the natural grain of the wood.

But its height was clearly abnormal. It was nearly twice as tall as an ordinary door. Furthermore, there were no steps or a threshold leading up to it; it was simply set high and isolated on the wall.

Leading Murphy by the hand, the little girl stopped at the edge of the clearing.

She tilted her small face up toward the door high on the wall, a flicker of anticipation in her emerald eyes.

She raised a small, pale hand, pointed at the door, and said in a crisp voice:

"Brother, open the door for me."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if it were the most ordinary request one could make when coming home.

Murphy’s gaze followed her pointing finger to the towering, unreachable door. The gentle smile on his face didn’t waver.

"Alright."

He replied, his voice calm.

Then he stepped forward, his feet landing on the damp, black earth of the clearing as he walked toward the cabin.

The little girl remained where she was, not following. She simply watched Murphy’s back with her wide, emerald eyes, not even blinking, a sweet smile gracing her lips.

Murphy walked up to the tall wooden door and stopped.

The door was shut fast, its surface rough and cold to the touch.

He reached out and gently pressed his palm against the door.

The moment his fingers touched the wood.

The seemingly heavy, solid door suddenly burst inward!

A massive, slick, sticky tongue covered in rough nodules and backward-facing barbs shot out!

SLURP!

The tongue coiled around Murphy and slurped him whole into the cabin!

The moment the tongue retracted, the wooden door slammed shut, sealing itself seamlessly, as if it had never opened at all.

All that remained in the clearing was the damp black earth, the solitary cabin at its center, and the little girl at the edge. Her sweet smile never faded, her emerald eyes fixed unblinkingly on the tall wooden door that had slammed shut.