Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

"Those aren’t fruit, my daughter," Claude cleared his throat. "They’re... um, ’electric lights.’ Lights that shine using ’electricity.’"

"Electricity?" As the mother, Juno gasped softly, her hand instinctively going to the Holy Emblem Necklace on her chest. "Is that the same terrifying light that tears the sky asunder when the Thunder God roars? Merciful Oriane, how can such a violent power be confined within this tiny glass orb, and remain so docile and serene?"

Just then, a low, powerful RUMBLE sounded.

An "iron box," painted deep green with a rugged design, moved smoothly past their carriage, overtaking it without any horses to pull it.

Two round "eyes" on its front cast brilliant beams of light, completely illuminating the road ahead.

"Look! It’s the little box! It runs all by itself!" Bobby pointed with her little finger at the car as it receded into the distance.

"That’s a motor car, little one," a gentle, slightly raspy voice said.

The speaker was an elderly gentleman seated across from them in the carriage. His silver hair was immaculately groomed, and he wore a dark gray jacket of fine material but simple design. Pinned to his chest was a small, exquisitely crafted insignia of a gear intertwined with an olive branch.

He had apparently been dozing. He now opened his eyes and looked at Bobby’s family with a gentle expression, possessing the easy composure of a long-time Holy City resident well-accustomed to outsiders.

"If it doesn’t use horses, and people don’t pull it, then what makes it go, grandpa?" Bobby’s attention was instantly captivated, and she turned her head to ask him curiously.

The old gentleman smiled faintly and explained patiently, "With a machine, child. In its ’belly,’ there is an intricate machine, much like a large teapot, only it doesn’t burn water, but a special, refined fuel. The fuel burns to generate power, which makes the machine turn. The machine then drives the wheels, and so it can run on its own. Right now, they are mainly used by the Church Court’s courier department, fire brigades, and some merchant guilds. They don’t run exceptionally fast, but they are undeterred by wind or rain, and you don’t have to worry about horses getting tired or spooked."

Claude furrowed his brow, trying to wrap his mind around unfamiliar words like "machine" and "fuel." As a manor lord accustomed to horses and oaken barrels, this was beyond the realm of his experience.

"It’s... unbelievable. How many master craftsmen would it take to build one? It sounds incredibly complex."

"It is indeed complex, sir," the old gentleman assented, his tone carrying a justifiable pride. "But that is the very nature of the changes happening in the Holy City. What you’re seeing..."

He lightly tapped the carriage floor with his walking stick, gesturing to the scene outside the window.

"Whether it’s these carriages that need no horses, or those lights that can shine all night without oil or fire, they are all part of the ’Holy Light Industrial Revolution’ set in motion by the great Pope Vesta I, Her Holiness."

"Holy Light Industrial Revolution?" Juno repeated softly. The phrase sounded grand and unfamiliar.

The old gentleman nodded slightly. "Precisely, madam. To put it simply, it is the use of new knowledge, new tools, and new forms of power to reshape our lives and our city. For instance, this ’electricity’—"

He raised his hand, pointing to the steadily glowing street lamps outside the window.

"You are right. In essence, it is a great force of Nature, sharing its origin with lightning—wild and unpredictable. But at the call of the Holy Throne and with the support of the wisdom of His Excellency, Holy Sword Murphy, the Holy City has gathered the finest scholars and master craftsmen from all over the Continent. They have constructed massive buildings called ’power plants,’ which use coal or water power to drive enormous machines, continuously and steadily producing a tamed ’electric current.’ Then, through ’wires’ buried underground or suspended in the air, the current is transported throughout the city like blood through veins. These electric lights are the final destination for the current, where it transforms electrical energy into the steady, clean light we see before us."

Claude listened, mesmerized, and pressed on with another question:

"But... sir, this all sounds enormously expensive. To light so many lamps, day and night without pause, and then there are those ’power plants’ and ’motor cars’... Is it worth it? Why would the Pope’s Throne pour so much effort into all this?"

The old gentleman’s gaze grew distant.

"When she first ascended to the Holy Throne, she made it clear that the comfort of faith is for the soul, while the responsibility of the Church Court is to the mortal world. The Holy Light should not only hang high above a cathedral dome; it should also illuminate every street and alley, warm every home, and lessen the hardships in the lives of the faithful. These electric lights mean the streets are no longer dark and dangerous at night, that shops can stay open longer, and that people can study and enjoy themselves after sundown. They bring not only light, but also safety, prosperity, and opportunity. As for the cost..."

He paused.

"The initial investment was indeed enormous, but new technology has also given rise to new industries, new tax revenues, and new wealth. To say nothing of the fact that this prosperity and order, which puts us ahead of the rest of the Continent, is itself a priceless asset to the Holy City and the Church Court. The Holy Throne is far-sighted. She is using today’s investment to forge a more stable foundation for faith and a more powerful force for protection tomorrow."

Although Bobby didn’t quite understand words like "tax revenue," "industries," or "foundation," she did catch the words "light," "safety," and "Pope’s Throne."

She looked up with her small face and asked:

"Grandpa, was it the Pope’s Throne that made all these lights shine? She’s so amazing!"

The wrinkles on the old gentleman’s face softened into a genuine smile.

"Yes, child. It was the Holy Throne who set the direction and gave the support, and countless people put forth the effort that has given the Holy City such an extraordinary night. You see..."

Just then, the public carriage happened to pull over to the side of the road.