Chapter 476 - 100: Prophecy
"Morning," Murphy said.
"Good morning, Father," Eleanor replied, her voice flat. She sat down in the seat opposite Murphy, her eyes fixed on the plate in front of her, refusing to look at him.
Margaret sat down beside Murphy, a helpless yet amused expression on her face at her daughter’s behavior. She glanced at Murphy, giving him a look that urged him to do something.
Murphy cleared his throat and took the initiative. "Eleanor..."
"I’m done," Eleanor said immediately, her tone stiff as she picked up her fork and poked at the nearly untouched fried egg on her plate.
The atmosphere instantly grew tense.
Murphy watched his daughter deliberately turn her face away and sighed inwardly.
He paused, then softened his voice and called out gently, "Mo Yu."
This was Eleanor’s true name. Just as Kaiden was named Mengene, Eleanor had been given a true name from the Mo family upon her birth.
It was just that back then, Murphy had not yet become the most powerful man in the world, so he rarely called her by this name.
Just as he’d hoped, Eleanor stopped poking at her fried egg upon hearing the name.
She turned her head, her dark eyes looking straight at Murphy.
The ice in them seemed to thaw slightly, but her lips remained tightly pressed together, as if she were desperately holding something back.
"So... you do remember my name, Father," she mumbled, her voice tinged with both hurt and a touch of indignation.
Watching the interaction between father and daughter, Margaret’s eyes softened into a gentle smile.
She picked up a silver pot and refilled Murphy’s coffee, gently smoothing things over. "You should try this. The beans were just delivered from the Jade Coast. They have a very unique flavor."
She never used the title "Master" in public when her daughter was present; that was an intimate form of address reserved for their private moments alone.
Then, she turned to Eleanor. "Please, finish your breakfast, won’t you? Your father is going to be here all day."
Seeing the hopeful look in his daughter’s eyes, Murphy’s heart softened further, and his tone grew even warmer. "Your mother’s right. I’m here for the whole day."
Hearing Murphy’s promise, Eleanor’s tightly pressed lips relaxed, even curving upward into a nearly imperceptible arc.
She let out a soft "mhm" and lowered her head again. This time, she truly began to eat her breakfast, taking small, quiet bites, though the tips of her ears had quietly turned a faint pink.
Breakfast proceeded in a gradually warming atmosphere.
Margaret would occasionally introduce a dish in a soft voice or bring up some lighthearted anecdote about the domain.
Murphy, in turn, asked Eleanor about her recent studies in Magic and matters of domain administration.
Eleanor gradually relaxed and became more talkative, even starting to complain about some of the difficulties she’d encountered while implementing new policies.
Time trickled by.
After the last dessert was cleared away and a Maid had silently collected the tableware, Margaret gently dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, her expression gradually turning serious.
"Alright," she said, looking first at Murphy, then at Eleanor. "It’s time to try the Prophetic Magic."
Eleanor nodded as well. The last trace of her earlier petulance had vanished, replaced by focus and concentration.
She naturally understood the gravity of the situation. What was happening to her father was far more important than her own fleeting emotions.
The three of them rose, left the dining hall, and proceeded to a special, quiet chamber deep within Taymer Palace.
The walls here were built of heavy stone, and the floor was inscribed with a complex Magic Array. In the center of the chamber stood a slightly recessed, circular stone platform, upon which rested several pure Crystal Balls and a Silver Star Disc.
Margaret and Eleanor took their places on opposite sides of the stone platform.
Margaret closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, it was as if a nebula had begun to swirl in the depths of her emerald eyes.
She extended her hands, palms down, hovering over the stone platform, and began to chant ancient, esoteric syllables.
As she chanted, the Crystal Balls and the Silver Star Disc on the platform began to emit a soft glow, and faint motes of silver dust appeared in the air.
Eleanor mirrored her actions. Though still young, her talent for Prophetic Magic surpassed even her mother’s. In truth, she was even more proficient.
The Spiritual Power of mother and daughter began to synchronize and resonate, like two clear streams flowing into a single lake. Together, they guided the force of the Prophetic Magic, attempting to pierce the mists of fate and glimpse any potential interference aimed at Murphy.
Murphy stood at the edge of the chamber, calmly observing.
He suppressed all of his own Qi and Energy Fluctuations, becoming like the most ordinary of bystanders, lest his presence interfere with the Magic’s operation.
The seconds ticked by.
The chamber was filled with nothing but the low, continuous chanting and the faint glow of the Magic Items.
The light wove through the air, forming complex and ever-changing patterns.
However, the expected backlash, interference, or any other abnormal Energy Fluctuations never came.
Margaret’s brow furrowed slightly, and a hint of confusion appeared on Eleanor’s face.
The Magic was proceeding very smoothly.
In fact, it was going too smoothly.
They encountered no resistance, nor did they trigger any alarms.
The power of the Magic flowed out, spread, and searched, only to vanish like a stone dropped into the ocean, returning no valuable information.
Everything seemed so peaceful, so normal... as if the abnormal spike in Murphy’s Dao Transformation Level was truly just a random occurrence in the natural process of Cultivation.
After another moment, Margaret slowly stopped chanting and lowered her hands.
Eleanor stopped at almost the exact same moment.
Mother and daughter exchanged a look, each seeing the same doubt reflected in the other’s eyes.
The light within the chamber gradually faded.
"Nothing," Margaret’s voice broke the silence, laced with a grave, disbelieving tone. "It was all too placid."
Eleanor added in a quiet voice, "It’s as if nothing happened at all. The feedback from the Prophetic Magic indicates that everything is normal."
Murphy stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the now-dim Crystal Balls on the stone platform.
’Was it really just a guess, then?’
Murphy’s and Margaret’s eyes met, their gazes lingering for a brief moment.
Margaret spoke again in a low voice. "It’s too quiet. As quiet as a bottomless pool of stagnant water..."
She shook her head, not saying anything more.
Eleanor stood to one side, her expression also grave. She looked at her mother, then at her father, wanting to say something but feeling that any words of comfort would ring hollow.
The Prophetic Series of Magic was her area of greatest expertise, and coming up empty this time left her both perplexed and vaguely uneasy.
Murphy withdrew his gaze, his expression as calm as ever.
He walked over to Margaret and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Just because the prophecy can’t see it doesn’t mean the problem isn’t there. It only means their methods of concealment are very sophisticated, or their means of interference are different from what we can comprehend."
He paused, his tone steady. "Since we have no clear leads here, I have other places I can investigate."
Margaret immediately understood his meaning. Her eyes flickered. "The Holy City?"
"Mhm," Murphy nodded. "The greatest repository of knowledge and information on the Continent is gathered there, as is my core research team. Since Prophetic Magic is a dead end, Edwin, Flora, and the others may be able to uncover some clues from a different angle."
He looked at Eleanor. "The intelligence network on this end must also remain on the highest alert. Keep an eye out for the slightest sign of trouble."
"I understand, Father," Eleanor nodded firmly, her gaze resolute. "I’ll watch over things personally. You should go. You don’t need to stay here just for me."
Margaret also took a deep breath, suppressing her own worries to give Murphy a supportive smile. "Yes, go. Eleanor and I are here. We’ll hold down the fort and continue trying other methods of investigation."
Murphy looked at them, a warmth spreading through his chest.
He gently patted Margaret’s shoulder again, then gave Eleanor a nod, saying nothing more.
He turned, walked out of the quiet chamber, and passed through the long corridors of Taymer Palace until he reached the balcony of his bedroom.
After the long day of Casting, the sun was now setting. The horizon was stained a brilliant golden-red and orange, and the distant mountains were dark as ink. The evening wind carried a slight chill.
With a mere thought, Murphy’s body was once again enveloped in a faint, Dark Gold light.
The next second, his form transformed into a straight rainbow of Dark Gold sword-light. He shot up from the balcony, instantly piercing the sunset-streaked sky.
There was no sonic boom, no shockwave—only a brilliant, fleeting trail of light streaking across the deepening twilight, racing toward the southern Holy City at a speed far exceeding that of sound.