Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 416: Chapter 87: A Mortal’s Story

She wore a voluminous, layered long skirt made from silver-gray gossamer and white satin. The hem swayed gently with her every move, catching the morning light with a soft sheen.

On her feet, she wore a pair of small, exquisite short boots made of white lambskin. The rims of the boots were adorned with the same delicate silver embroidery.

White stockings covered her slender calves, and she now wore several silver hairpins, inlaid with tiny sapphires, to tuck a few stray locks behind her ears, giving her a somewhat charming and playful look.

"How do I look?" Elizabeth gave a little twirl, her skirt tracing a graceful arc. Her sapphire-blue eyes met Murphy’s, a hint of mischief in them. "No one should recognize me now, right? I promise, even if the Cardinals themselves were to walk right by, they’d just think I was the daughter of some Count from a small southern kingdom."

Murphy watched her in silence.

After a moment of contemplation, he finally gave a slow nod. "It’s acceptable. But we can’t be out for too long. And..."

He glanced at his wheelchair. "Going out like this will still draw attention, I’m afraid."

"It’s fine." Elizabeth’s smile was radiant. "The Holy City is filled with visitors from every corner of the Continent. You can see all sorts of people. There may not be many nobles in wheelchairs, but it’s not unheard of. We’ll just be a brother taking his frail little sister out for some fresh air and to see the festivities before the grand celebration. Who would give it a second thought?"

She moved naturally behind the wheelchair and took hold of the handles. "Let’s go, Melfield ’brother.’ Let your ’little sister’ show you what the Holy City looks like when it comes alive."

The morning light was perfect, streaming through the window and bathing the living room in brightness.

Murphy gazed at the rare, almost vibrant smile on Elizabeth’s face and finally said no more to oppose her.

"Let’s go," he said simply.

The smile on Elizabeth’s face grew even brighter. She pushed the wheelchair with gentle, steady movements, and the two of them left the room together.

When the wheelchair emerged into the courtyard, Luke, who was inspecting the horse tack, looked up at the sound. His eyes widened instantly and his mouth fell open upon seeing the completely unfamiliar, gorgeously dressed, blonde-haired, blue-eyed young woman behind Murphy. He nearly blurted out, "Who is this young lady?"

Knight Davies, standing nearby, reacted in a flash. He placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder, the pressure firm but not heavy.

His expression didn’t change in the slightest, as if this were a common occurrence. He simply gave Murphy a slight bow, his calm gaze sweeping over Elizabeth once before he stood respectfully to the side, hands clasped, without any further action or word.

The touch brought Luke to his senses. He quickly shut his mouth and bowed his head, mimicking Davis, though he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting curious glances at the young woman.

Elizabeth, seemingly oblivious to the two Knights’ subtle exchange, pushed Murphy with light steps through the courtyard gate and into the gradually awakening streets of the Holy City.

The Holy City in the morning light was different from its solemn, magnificent nighttime self.

The air was filled with the scents of freshly baked bread, warm milk, and flowers, mingled with the faint, salty tang of a distant sea breeze.

The streets were even busier than the day before. Merchants from all over the Continent had already set up their stalls, their colorful tents and banners fluttering in the sun. They sold spices, fabrics, exotic fruits, exquisite handicrafts,

and even tamed beasts with a trace of Extraordinary bloodlines and rare, exotic birds.

More street performers had appeared as well. Bards played lively tunes while acrobats breathed fire, drawing gasps of amazement from the children.

Elizabeth pushed the wheelchair, weaving nimbly through the crowd.

Her sapphire-blue eyes took in everything around her with curiosity. She would occasionally stop, lean close to Murphy’s ear, and whisper, "Look, over there. Those painted clay pots are in the style of the desert tribes from across the Jade Sea... Oh, and that stall is selling honey native to the Eastern Forest. Its color is like molten amber. I tasted something similar at the palace once. It was delicious."

Her voice held a thrill she hadn’t felt in a long time.

At a stall selling exotic trinkets, she picked up a bracelet strung with colorful feathers and shells. She held it against her wrist for a moment, then turned to Murphy. "Is it pretty?"

Murphy glanced at the somewhat crude handicraft, then at the sparkle in her eyes, and nodded. "It’s passable."

Elizabeth smiled but didn’t buy it. She just carefully placed the bracelet back where it was. "Just looking is enough," she said softly.

They continued on, passing a small stage where a puppet show was in progress.

On the simple stage, a puppet hero in armor battled a smoke-breathing dragon, eliciting cheers from the children watching.

Elizabeth stopped to watch for a moment, a smile playing on her lips. She leaned in and said quietly to Murphy, "We used to have puppet troupes perform at the palace, but I always felt they weren’t as lively or as interesting as this."

Murphy didn’t answer. He just watched the puppet show, then glanced at her focused profile.

After a few more streets, the crowd grew denser, and the aroma of food in the air grew stronger.

A stall selling steaming-hot pies caught Elizabeth’s attention.

A golden, crispy crust gave way to reveal a plump filling of minced meat and spices.

"It smells so good..." she murmured, her gaze lingering on the stall.

"Want to try one?" Murphy asked suddenly.

Elizabeth paused, a little hesitant. "May I? Would it be... improper?"

Her gaze fell to her own magnificent dress.

She was of noble birth, after all, and certain points of etiquette were ingrained in her very being.

"It’s fine." Murphy motioned for her to stop, then said to the vendor, "Two."

A moment later, two steaming-hot pies, wrapped in wax paper, were handed over.

Elizabeth carefully took them, handing one to Murphy. She held the other and took a small, tentative bite.

The crispy crust shattered between her teeth, and a rush of scalding, savory juices, rich with spices, instantly filled her mouth.

Her eyes narrowed in a look of pure satisfaction, like a kitten that had just stolen a fish.

"Delicious," she mumbled, taking another large bite, completely heedless of her image. A little grease even dotted the corner of her mouth.

Murphy held his own pie but didn’t eat it right away. He just watched the unguarded ease in her expression.

The morning light caught her golden hair and the sheen of grease on her lips. In that moment, the shell of the "Saint" seemed to fall away completely, revealing the simple vitality of a young woman.

After finishing the pie, Elizabeth took out a silk handkerchief and carefully wiped her mouth and fingers, a lingering smile still on her face.

"Let’s go check out that plaza," she said, pointing toward the source of some cheerful music. "It sounds like a band is playing."

Sure enough, a crowd had gathered in the plaza, where a small band of traveling musicians was playing a lively folk dance.

Many young men and women were dancing to the music while the surrounding crowd clapped along to the beat. The atmosphere was fervent and joyful.

Elizabeth pushed the wheelchair to the edge of the crowd and stopped, listening quietly to the music, her toes tapping lightly to the beat.

After a moment, she suddenly leaned close and whispered in Murphy’s ear, "When I learned to dance at the palace, we had dedicated musicians and a grand ballroom. The floor was polished like a mirror, and every single step had to be calculated for angle and force, without the slightest error."

Her voice held a glimmer of memory, but also a hint of release. "But listening to this music now, watching them dance... even though it’s not as refined, it feels... so real. So full of life."

"The me from back then..."

Murphy’s gaze fell on the swirling skirts and radiant smiles as he listened in silence.

Listening to the story of the mortal Elizabeth.