Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

The little girl seemed quite satisfied with his calm acceptance. She happily swung her other hand, then set off, her bare feet padding on the grass as she guided Murphy deeper into the forest.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, casting mottled shadows.

The forest remained dead silent. There were no chirping insects or birds, not even the sound of wind.

Murphy held the little girl’s hand, walking through the eerily tranquil woods with a steady pace and a serene expression.

His dark figure and the little girl’s small, floral-dressed form walked side by side, casting two long shadows in the moonlight that gradually merged into one.

「...」

「The sewer.」

"We can’t... we can’t let this go on!" Uncle Scar’s voice was hoarse, his eyes glued to the figure a few meters away, which was enveloped in swirling Black Light. "We have to do something! Just watching... just watching is a death sentence!"

Ron’s face was pale as a sheet, his eyes filled with helplessness and terror. He cowered against the cold pipe wall, his voice trembling, "Do... do what? Uncle Scar, what can we do? Look at the state he’s in... That Black Light, it can even swallow light and sound! If we... if we go over there, isn’t that just suicide? What can we do!"

"I know it’s dangerous! Do you think I don’t fucking know that?!" Uncle Scar roared, his cloudy eyes shot with blood. "But can we escape now? Huh? Look around! Where can we possibly run? This tunnel is a dead end! If that Black Light keeps spreading... we’ll have nowhere to run! What’s the difference between sitting here and just waiting for that black stuff to swallow us whole?!"

Escape?

But where to?

They had only just seized this "Hot Spring District" and hadn’t even familiarized themselves with the terrain. Even if they could escape the darkness saturated with Black Light, there were still those vagrants outside, eyeing them like prey.

Ron flinched at the scolding. He asked, his voice on the verge of tears, "Then... then what do we do now? Uncle Scar, what can we possibly do!"

Uncle Scar took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His gaze returned to Murphy.

The swirling Black Light was like a living thing, blurring Murphy’s figure until only a vague, black humanoid silhouette was visible.

"We have to figure something out... At least find out what’s wrong with the boss, or see if we can help, even just a little..."

His voice trailed off. He knew how powerless his own words sounded.

Just then, Ron, who had been staring intently at Murphy, suddenly widened his eyes.

He suddenly grabbed Uncle Scar’s uninjured arm, his grip so strong it startled the older man.

"Uncle Scar! Uncle Scar, look!" Ron’s voice was distorted with excitement and fear. He pointed towards Murphy, speaking in a rapid-fire burst, "I just... I think I just saw it! The boss’s eyes! His eyes are closed!"

"What!" Uncle Scar shuddered. He quickly shifted his position and stared, trying to get a look at Murphy’s profile.

But the swirling Black Light waxed and waned, making Murphy’s figure flicker in and out of view. His face was a complete blur, impossible to see clearly.

"Eyes closed? Are you sure? How come I didn’t see it? Did you see it wrong? Or was it just the Black Light flickering?"

"No! It wasn’t! The Black Light seemed to thin out for a moment, just for an instant!" Ron argued urgently, his hand still pointing. "I really saw it! The boss was just standing there, motionless, with his eyes closed! It’s like... like he’s asleep! Or... or unconscious!"

Uncle Scar’s heart began to pound violently.

If Ron wasn’t mistaken, this might be the first, and only, clue they had found.

An impossibly powerful being, suddenly emitting such bizarre and dangerous Black Light, and with his eyes closed, completely still...

"Then... then what do we do now?" Uncle Scar subconsciously repeated Ron’s earlier question, only this time the roles were reversed.

The medicine he’d just taken left his mind foggy. He felt like he was grasping for an idea that kept slipping away, so he had no choice but to ask Ron.

Ron was taken aback by the question.

A moment ago, he had been the one asking Uncle Scar. Now, it was Uncle Scar asking him.

He looked at Uncle Scar’s eyes, which were fixed on him, and suddenly felt an inexplicable weight of pressure and responsibility settle on his heart.

Uncle Scar seemed to sense his hesitation and panic. "Kid! This is no time to hesitate! We’re in danger, extreme danger! If you find a clue, you use it! If you think of something, you say it! No matter how stupid or impossible it sounds, we have to try! It’s better than just waiting here to be swallowed by that black stuff!"

Ron shuddered, spurred on by Uncle Scar’s words.

’Yeah, waiting to die is the stupidest thing to do!’

He swallowed hard, his dry throat burning, his mind racing.

He remembered how Murphy, though aloof, hadn’t harmed them. He had even tacitly allowed them to follow and had "protected" them from those vagrants...

An idea flashed through his mind like a spark in the darkness.

"Uncle Scar!" Ron grit his teeth. Though his voice still trembled, it now held a hint of resolve. "I don’t think the boss was bad to us before, right? He’s so powerful, if he really wanted to hurt us, he would’ve done it long ago. The way he is now, maybe... maybe he just ran into some trouble and is temporarily... temporarily unconscious, or can’t control himself!"

The faster he spoke, the clearer his thoughts seemed to become. "Could we... could we try to... wake him up? If the boss is just ’asleep,’ then if we wake him, maybe... maybe he’ll be fine, and this Black Light will disappear!"