Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 102 - 96: Otherworldly Guests

Under Murphy’s ruthless interrogation, Leon—or rather, the Wizard Apprentice named Saren—finally began to talk.

To his astonishment, Murphy wasn’t asking about secret legacies or organizational secrets. Instead, his questions were about the most fundamental knowledge—common sense known even to the Bishops of the Church Court and the more knowledgeable Great Knights.

This left Saren utterly baffled.

Judging by this man’s ability to completely conceal his aura, approach and gravely injure him without a sound, and his methods of interrogation, he couldn’t possibly be one of those people from the Church Court who relied on Divine Magic. He also didn’t seem like a Great Knight who only trained their physical body.

’Is he more like a Transformation Series Wizard, one skilled in physical power and the path of change?’

’But if he really is a Wizard, why is he so ignorant of things that are practically common knowledge, things even a novice would understand?’

’Could he be an Otherworldly Guest!’

Before that distant, glorious era, the Old Realm was once connected to countless bizarre worlds.

Back then, Otherworldly Guests were not rare. They were beings captured or invited by the great Wizards, who forged planar channels to connect myriads of planes.

Their forms and power systems were strange and varied, completely different from the native powers of the Old Realm.

But after the cataclysm later known as the "Dawn War," the aftershocks of the war destroyed all the planar channels. The Old Realm was forced to close itself off, self-exiled. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Since then, new Otherworldly Guests have all but vanished, existing only in the dust of history and the fragmented verses of bards.

Perhaps they hadn’t completely vanished, though.

Saren vaguely recalled that in the scattered records of the last thousand years, a few unfortunate individuals had still stumbled into the Old Realm by mistake, through some dangerous, residual channels.

’Could this man before me be one of those Otherworldly Guests?’

As this realization dawned on him, even amidst his extreme agony, Saren felt a cold dread wash over him.

Of course, he didn’t think a mere Otherworldly Guest could pose any threat to this world.

That wasn’t something a small fry like him needed to worry about.

As far as he knew, most Otherworldly Guests were captured by either the Truth Church Court, the Shepherd Headquarter District, or Official Wizards, unable to stir up any trouble at all.

What he was truly worried about was his own life.

If the man really was an Otherworldly Guest, he would most likely choose to silence him permanently to protect his secret.

This thought made him shudder, and his previously halting narration came to an abrupt stop.

"What’s wrong? You’re not talking anymore?" Murphy’s voice was chillingly calm. "Keep talking about the Meditation Method."

Saren endured the churning, intense pain in his body, his teeth grinding together, but he dared not utter another word.

He would rather die on the spot than be silenced for good after revealing more information.

Murphy said no more. He turned and took a specially made fine-toothed steel comb from the rack of torture instruments.

The tips of the steel comb’s teeth glinted with a sinister, cold light. Each tooth was as thin as a cicada’s wing, yet incredibly sharp.

He slowly pressed the steel comb against Saren’s bloody back, circulated the Qi within his body, and amplified the sensation of pain once more.

"AHHH—!"

The moment the steel comb scraped across his skin, Saren let out an inhuman scream.

That was no longer simple pain. It was as if millions of venomous insects were simultaneously gnawing at his bone marrow, and every inch of his nerves transmitted an exquisitely detailed, intense agony.

’Death?’

’Who had time to think about death now?’

He wished he could die immediately and end this endless torture.

"Now," Murphy’s voice seemed to come from a great distance, "can you continue?"

Saren finally broke. He used the last of his strength to haltingly resume his explanation of the Meditation Method’s key points.

Every word was accompanied by heavy gasps and painful convulsions, but he didn’t dare to stop again.

In this Purgatory of extreme pain, he only wanted to escape his tormented body and ascend to Oriane’s Celestial Kingdom.

Although he knew that a Wizard like him, with no faith, would likely not be allowed to go there.

But at this moment, even such a faint and illusory hope became the sole anchor for his remaining consciousness.

...

Murphy gazed at the now lifeless Saren before him, a flicker of contemplation in his mind.

’So this is a Wizard.’

’No.’

’A Wizard Apprentice.’

He hadn’t wanted Saren to die so soon, but when he’d extracted the two words "Otherworldly Guests" from him, Murphy knew the man could not be left alive.

There were two reasons.

First, Saren had an organization called Ghostly Touch behind him. Once news of his disappearance got back, it would inevitably attract unnecessary trouble.

Second, and most importantly, Saren had already guessed Murphy’s origins.

Although Murphy considered himself fundamentally different from the Otherworldly Guests Saren spoke of.

Murphy couldn’t help but think about Earth. If alien life were to arrive, and if human civilization was powerful enough, there would be no shortage of nations and organizations eager to study them with malicious intent.

This "Old Realm," also known as the Old Wizard World, was just such a world—one that was once powerful enough to connect myriads of planes.

In the eyes of the powerful beings of this world, Otherworldly Guests were probably no different from natives to be studied—either imprisoned for research or eliminated outright.

As for the Meditation Method that Saren had divulged in his extreme agony, Murphy had no intention of cultivating it whatsoever.

Leaving aside whether Saren still harbored any intent to deceive in that state, the information a person gives while in unbearable pain and a confused state of mind would inevitably have omissions and errors, even if he had no intention of lying.

Murphy had collected this information only for reference; he would never attempt to use it rashly.

Another piece of information from Saren that concerned Murphy was about the border war.

According to Saren’s confession, Ghostly Touch was an organization composed of Necromancy Series Wizard Apprentices, and a key material for casting Necromancy Magic was Wandering Souls.

To collect Wandering Souls more efficiently, members of Ghostly Touch had come to the border between the Vilt Kingdom and the Rosenia Kingdom, where a war was about to erupt, and were secretly pushing for it to begin sooner.

And that war was set to break out in less than a year.

...

「Three days later, also the final day for the system’s options.」

Inside the council hall, the fire in the hearth crackled, driving away the chill seeping in through the cracks of the doors and windows.

Arthur and Luca, having just returned from the Black Wood Forest Outpost, stood in the hall, travel-worn, their cloaks still dotted with unmelted snowflakes.

Facing Murphy, who was seated in the main chair, they began their report.

"...Everything is normal at the Black Wood Forest Outpost. There are no unusual movements at the border for now," Arthur reported respectfully.

Murphy nodded slightly. "Understood."

Arthur hesitated for a moment before adding, "It’s just... there was an accident at the Black Wood Forest Outpost this time. A Groom named Leon was attacked and killed by a hungry beast in the mountains while gathering herbs to treat sick horses."

The old follower had more to say. ’This is exactly like what happened to that Groom named Murphy twenty years ago.’

’Why do talented Grooms always die in such an unlucky way?’

In the past, Arthur would never have bothered mentioning such trivial matters.

But recently, the Lord Baron seemed to have mellowed with age, his temperament growing gentler. Plus, with the castle’s taxes tightened, a Groom was not easy to train, so his death was ultimately worth reporting.

Hearing this, Murphy showed a hint of regret on his face. "Understood." He sighed softly. "A pity... If there is nothing else, you may leave."

"Yes." Arthur and Luca replied in unison. After a respectful bow, they prepared to leave.

As he turned, Arthur’s gaze inadvertently swept over Murphy’s right hand, and he noticed a magnificent ring he had never seen before.

The ring had an ancient design, with delicate silver threads woven into intricate patterns, securely holding a deep gray gemstone.

A flicker of doubt crossed the old follower’s mind. ’With the domain’s taxes tightened, why would the Lord Baron acquire such a new item?’

But on second thought, Arthur dismissed the doubt.

After all, with a legacy spanning over two hundred years, the Duval Clan was bound to have some valuable heirlooms.

’This ring must be one of those long-inherited family treasures.’

With this thought in mind, Arthur quietly followed Luca out of the council hall.

The heavy doors slowly closed, and silence returned to the council hall.

Murphy sat alone in the main seat, his calm gaze fixed on the deepening twilight outside the window, quietly waiting for the final moment when the system’s options would expire.