Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Holy City.

The Pope’s Bedroom.

Soft morning light filtered through the tall, stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the opulent and elegant bedroom.

Murphy slowly opened his eyes.

The space beside him was already empty. Only the faint wrinkles on the mattress and a subtle, lingering fragrance on the pillow proved that last night had not been a dream.

Elizabeth had risen long ago. She now stood before a dressing mirror not far away, her back to the bed.

Two Maids were silently adjusting her moon-white papal robes and helping her don the exquisite Silver Crown, a symbol of supreme authority.

Murphy did not get up immediately. He simply lay quietly amidst the soft velvet bedding, his gaze calmly fixed on her busy figure.

As a Foundation Establishment Cultivator, his very state of being had long since transcended the mortal plane; sleep was not a biological necessity for him.

However, he deliberately held on to mortal habits like sleeping and eating.

This wasn’t a sign of weakness or indulgence, but a conscious form of "anchoring."

It was just like the Wizards who walked the Path of Elementalization. Even as their bodies began to transform into non-human forms, they would often intentionally preserve old habits, preferences, or even feigned weaknesses. This was their way of resisting the erosion and dilution of their self-awareness by the "dehumanizing" process, holding fast to the anchor of "I am me."

Murphy was no different.

Sleep, taste, touch, even sex... these seemingly insignificant mortal experiences were a vital part of his struggle against the sense of inhumanity and the loss of self that came with his Dao Body’s transformation.

’Perhaps this is what they call Red Dust Heart Refining,’ Murphy mused.

"My lord," Elizabeth said, having finished dressing. She turned, walked to the bedside, a trace of tenderness flashing in the depths of her eyes. "I’m going to handle the morning reports. The Maids will bring breakfast shortly. You can eat in here; there’s no need to go out. If you need anything else, just ask them."

"Alright," Murphy replied simply.

Elizabeth nodded. Without another word, she gave him one last look, then turned and left the bedroom with her Maids, her steps steady and composed.

The heavy, carved wooden doors closed silently behind her, shutting out all sound from the outside world.

Silence returned to the bedroom, leaving only the shifting, colorful patterns of light to drift through the air.

Only then did Murphy sit up.

Clad only in a simple silk robe, he stepped barefoot onto the cool, smooth, dark wood floor. He then walked to the window, pushed it open, and let the crisp morning air flood in.

He then found a clear spot in the middle of the carpet, sat down cross-legged, and faced the morning light and fresh air streaming in from the window. Closing his eyes, he began his daily Breathing Cultivation.

Pure Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi was slowly drawn in by his long, deep breaths. It gathered in wisps, entered his body, and circulated along a profound Path, refining his Mana and nourishing his Dao Body.

At first, everything was normal.

But gradually, at some unknown point, an indescribable sense of daze crept over him.

Murphy’s consciousness began to blur.

He was pulled back to reality only by a light, rhythmic knocking at the door.

Murphy slowly opened his eyes. He found himself still in a seated, cross-legged position, but the sunlight outside had noticeably shifted. It was now late morning.

A woman wearing a simple yet exquisitely tailored, dark blue Maid’s dress entered, pushing a delicate silver serving cart.

She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with fine features and a capable air. Her long, dark brown hair was tied back in a neat bun, and her emerald eyes were respectfully lowered.

Murphy knew her.

She was Lianna Visconti.

She came from one of the most influential merchant families in the Jade Coast Federation.

When Elizabeth had participated in the selection for the new Saint, Lianna had also been one of the candidates, though she was ultimately not chosen.

But she did not leave the Holy City. Instead, she leveraged her family’s power and her own clever machinations to secure a foothold within the Church Court, gradually building her own network and influence.

After the "October Revolution," she was one of the first scions of the old aristocracy to explicitly declare her support for Elizabeth and use her family’s channels to provide tangible aid for the Holy City’s reconstruction and the implementation of new policies.

When Murphy was first gathering those rare minerals and special materials, Lianna’s family’s trade network had played a significant role.

Lianna was well aware that the relationship between Murphy and Elizabeth went beyond that of a mere subject and sovereign.

In her eyes, however, nothing could be more normal.

Holy Sword Murphy, the supreme powerhouse who stood above all other forces on the Continent—why would he choose to support Elizabeth’s ascension to the papal throne? Besides her status as a Saint and her ideals, wasn’t it obvious there were personal factors involved?

She, Lianna Visconti, had grown up in a whirlwind of profit and power. She understood all too well that even these seemingly supreme beings were, in the end, still driven by human emotions.

Of course, she would bury such thoughts deep in her heart and never dare to speak them aloud.

She knew her place, understood what to say, what to do, and what thoughts should never be revealed.

"Good day, His Holiness the Sword of Divinity." Lianna stopped several paces from the bed. She placed her right hand over her chest and gave a flawless bow, her voice crisp and reverent. "The Holy Throne has ordered breakfast prepared for you. Please, enjoy your meal."

Murphy’s gaze finally shifted from her to the silver serving cart.

The cart was covered with a snow-white linen cloth, upon which sat a spread of Chinese-style breakfast dishes: a small steamer of delicate, translucent shrimp dumplings; a plate of golden, glistening pan-fried egg crepes; a bowl of steaming hot congee, accompanied by several small saucers of exquisite pickled vegetables; and a pot of faintly fragrant tea.