Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 559: Chapter 18: God’s Memory is Reality

"Shut up!" This time, it was Captain Keynes who cut him off.

The captain’s voice wasn’t loud, and it was filled with exhaustion, yet it carried a heavy authority.

Another, more lightly injured guard struggled to move closer. As he tore strips of cloth to hastily bandage Lelas’s burst-open wounds, he couldn’t help but snarl,

"Elvin the Mage, no matter what, you shouldn’t have said what you did! If... if that monster really takes an interest in our world..."

He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning was self-evident. The other guards also turned to glare at Elvin with hatred.

Elvin’s face was as pale as a sheet, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

"I... I didn’t... I was just..." Elvin stammered incoherently.

"Enough," Keynes said again. "What’s done is done. Lelas, conserve your Physical Strength; your wounds need to be treated. Elvin..."

He paused, finally turning his gaze to the ashen-faced young Mage, his expression complex.

"As for your actions, the Mage Council and the Adventurer Guild will pass their joint judgment when we return. For now, everyone shut up. Tend to your injuries and regain some mobility. We need to find a way off this platform and find the path back. This is no place to linger."

The captain’s words temporarily suppressed the internal strife.

Lelas snorted coldly and turned his head away, refusing to look at Elvin. But his tense body and tightly pressed lips showed that the rage in his heart had not subsided.

The other guards also fell silent and began helping one another treat their wounds, though the occasional glances they cast at Elvin remained ice-cold.

Elvin’s head drooped in despair. He collapsed onto the cold rock, burying his hands deep in his hair.

In the distance, the CLANG-CLANG of the furnace continued to beat rhythmically through the space. The figure in black was already nearing the end of the stone path.

Murphy walked along the stone path at a steady, unhurried pace.

He was surrounded by silent, gray-skinned people. Their eyes were fixed only on the roiling blaze of light ahead, and they paid no mind to the black-clothed traveler with a completely different aura in their midst.

The reason Murphy hadn’t pressed for the exact coordinates of the Caesar Dia World was simple.

He wasn’t that kind of person.

The "pledge of allegiance" Elvin had been so desperate to offer in exchange for his life...

...was worthless to Murphy.

After understanding the purpose of the Nightmare World’s existence,

he knew that the Dao he walked, the path he upheld, would not permit him to do such a thing.

’The path of Cultivation is not just about seeking long life, but also about holding fast to one’s self through the long passage of years.’

’Living for a long time isn’t the ultimate goal. The core principle is to live and always remain "me".’

’If I were to resort to any means necessary for survival or power, only to end up completely unrecognizable, how would that be any different from annihilation by Dao Transformation and the death of the self?’

Of course, adhering to his Dao-heart didn’t mean he was inflexible.

If they attacked him first, he would naturally strike back.

As for the grim fate they might suffer by being stranded, grievously injured, in this perilous Nightmare World—that was the karmic consequence of their own choice to attack. Murphy had no intention, nor any obligation, to bear or resolve it for them.

As these thoughts flowed through his mind, Murphy approached the end of the stone path.

Ahead, the metal platform above the massive furnace’s mouth was clearly visible. At its edge was a diving platform, glowing red in the furnace’s light, with no guardrails.

One by one, the gray-skinned people walked onto the platform with a sense of calm, then leaped into the molten ocean of churning golden bubbles below, turning into wisps of green smoke.

This time, Murphy did not pause.

He stepped onto the metal platform. A wave of scorching heat washed over him, hot enough to instantly burn a mortal, yet it couldn’t harm him in the slightest.

To be precise, almost nothing in the mortal world could cause substantial harm to his highly Dao-transformed body, unless it was composed of unobservable matter.

But the furnace below was, after all, a creation from the lingering dream of a Divine Spirit. Its essence and composition were, naturally, of unobservable matter.

Murphy was well aware of this.

But he still didn’t hesitate for a moment.

As calmly as if stepping over an ordinary threshold, he took a single step forward, and his body plunged into the boiling sea of light and heat.

Instantly, searing intensity enveloped his entire body.

Although his highly Dao-transformed body was immune to conventional high temperatures, the heat from the unobservable matter within the golden lava still burned him.

It broke down his body, and it broke down his soul.

「New Realm. The Sewers.」

The shouts of Uncle Scar and Ron echoed futilely in the foul air.

A few meters away, Murphy still stood silently, his eyes closed, his face expressionless.

The thick, swirling Black Light, which devoured both light and sound, spread outward unstoppably, as if it were alive.

"Sir! Wake up!" Ron’s voice was tinged with a sob. He felt like his lungs were about to explode, but he didn’t dare stop.

Stopping meant giving up, meant waiting to be consumed by that strange darkness.

Uncle Scar gritted his teeth, veins popping on his forehead. He knew better than Ron that their shouts were likely useless. Perhaps the "sir" they served had long since fallen into some deeper predicament beyond their comprehension.

But he knew even more clearly that if they did nothing, they wouldn’t have even the faintest glimmer of hope.

"What... Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might..." Uncle Scar’s voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, as if he were muttering to himself, or perhaps trying to encourage Ron as well as himself.

It was a snippet he’d heard from some corner of the world, a phrase from the Holy Scripture, but now it had become the only belief supporting him.

"Sir! Wake up! Sir—!!"

Just as the edge of the Black Light was less than a meter from where they huddled, about to consume them completely,

a pinpoint of golden light emerged from Murphy’s chest without any warning!

It was followed by a second, then a third... Like a spark starting a prairie fire, countless tiny golden flames suddenly erupted all over Murphy’s body!

These golden flames were minuscule, yet they contained an indescribable, searing heat. The moment they appeared, they lunged at the churning Black Light as if they had met their mortal enemy!

HISS!

The instant the golden flames made contact with the thick Black Light, the darkness was like ice and snow meeting a blazing sun. It rapidly faded, dissipated, and was mercilessly devoured by the golden flames!

Uncle Scar and Ron stared, dumbfounded, at the scene, almost forgetting to breathe.

The wild joy of survival instantly shattered their frayed nerves.

"It... It worked? Uncle Scar! We did it!" Ron was so excited he was incoherent, pointing at the rapidly receding Black Light and the dancing golden flames. "Sir... Sir is waking up!"

Uncle Scar also let out a long sigh of relief. His tense body nearly went limp, and a complex, relieved expression appeared on his face. ’It seems our clumsy shouting might have actually worked...’

However, their joy didn’t last long.

They soon discovered that after completely devouring the Black Light, the golden flames didn’t go out. Instead, they continued to burn steadily, taking the place of the Black Light and continuing to spread outward.

The smile on Ron’s face froze. He looked in terror at the golden flames slowly approaching them, then at Uncle Scar, whose expression had also changed drastically. "Un... Uncle Scar... This fire... it looks like... like it’s going to burn us, too?"

Uncle Scar’s Adam’s apple bobbed as cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.

He could feel that the essence of these golden flames was far more formidable than the devouring Black Light from before.

Of course, whether it was the Black Light or the golden flames, both were existences they were powerless against.

Their approach meant their deaths were imminent.

"Our efforts... were they useless?" Ron’s voice was filled with sobs and confusion.

Uncle Scar stared intently at the approaching golden flames, his lips moving. In the end, he could only repeat the line from the Holy Scripture, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might... As for the rest..."

However, he couldn’t finish his sentence.

Because just as the golden flames were about to touch their skin,

Murphy, who had stood like a statue with his eyes shut, suddenly snapped them open.

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