Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 432: Chapter 89: Wind, Thunder, Water

The Knight Captain gritted his teeth. He didn’t dare touch her, so all he could do was fight harder to block the increasingly dense volley of stray attacks.

He could sense that something was terribly wrong with the Saint, but duty bound him to protect her until he received explicit orders or she recovered on her own.

In the distance, Murphy glanced over again. He had just used his white Mana to carefully transfer several civilians trapped on a listing rooftop to higher ground.

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Elizabeth’s condition was clearly more than simple exhaustion.

’A suspicion began to form in his mind.’

’That bell... The price to ring it was likely far greater than anyone imagined.’

BOOM!

To the rear of the altar, a section of the foundation, already weakened by lightning strikes, finally groaned under the relentless assault of the floodwaters.

A large swath of flagstones and the rammed earth beneath them suddenly caved in, forming a rapidly expanding sinkhole!

Murky floodwaters carrying debris surged violently into the pit!

Ete I, the Great Shepherd Leader, and the Cardinals were locked in a fierce battle with the three Wizards, their powers clashing in the air. They were too preoccupied to notice anything else.

More critically, the collapse occurred less than ten meters from and just below where Elizabeth stood!

The violent tremor and the eroding foundation caused the entire corner of the altar to start tilting!

The Temple Knights guarding Elizabeth lost their footing, and their formation immediately fell into disarray.

A blast of Withering Wind, as thick as a bowl, that they had previously deflected together, seized the opportunity. It slipped through a crack in the protective cordon and, like a green viper, silently struck at Elizabeth’s back. She seemed completely oblivious to the danger.

"Saint!" the Knight Captain cried out, his eyes wide with horror. He tried to turn back to save her, but it was too late.

Just then—

VMM!

A beam of white Mana, so condensed it looked solid, shot through the air from dozens of meters away. Moving faster than the eye could follow, it arrived in an instant to intercept the Withering Wind!

The white beam collided with the dark-green gust. Faced with Mana that had reached a quality of 2.5, the deathly green wind rapidly disintegrated, vanishing completely.

Though the white beam dimmed considerably, it continued onward, its momentum unbroken. It gently coiled around Elizabeth, who was staggering and about to fall as the altar tilted, and pulled her steadily away from the hazardous area.

Murphy remained in his wheelchair, casually directing the white Mana tentacle to simultaneously snatch two nearby Bishops who had fallen into the water during the collapse and toss them to safety. The motion was as smooth and graceful as flowing water.

On the altar, the still-shaken Temple Knights quickly reformed their ranks, shielding Elizabeth in the center and casting grateful looks toward Murphy.

The Knight Captain went a step further, offering a formal Knight’s salute from afar in Murphy’s direction.

Perhaps startled by the commotion, Elizabeth’s vacant eyes finally shifted slightly. Her long lashes trembled, and her dazed gaze first fell on Murphy in his distant wheelchair, a hint of confusion in her expression.

But then her gaze drifted downward, past the shattered edge of the altar, past the sturdy Shoulder Armor of her guardian Knights, and settled on the hell on earth below.

A murky, greenish flood surged through the streets, carrying splintered wood and debris.

Above the water’s surface, the Withering Wind weaved silently. In its wake, an old man behind a pillar, a father and son in the water, a desperately struggling figure—all vanished into ash as quietly as pencil marks being erased.

Stray bolts of lightning occasionally struck down, blasting geysers of water into the air amidst piercing screams.

Elizabeth shuddered violently, as if jolted awake from a long, cold dream.

Beneath her pure white ceremonial robes, her slight frame began to tremble uncontrollably.

On her exquisitely beautiful face, her pupils constricted violently as a deathly pallor spread across her features.

"No... no... how could this be..." she murmured, her voice a faint thread of sound easily swallowed by the storm.

But in her refocused dark eyes, a tempest of emotion raged.

Disbelief, anguish, self-reproach, and icy rage.

"He lied to me..." Elizabeth’s voice suddenly rose, laced with a bone-deep chill. "Hakon Perik... the Ironspine Duke... he lied to me! He said channeling the bell would open the Sanctuary’s Half-Plane and bring back Noe VII... Not this! It wasn’t supposed to be like this!"

Her gaze shot toward the viewing area, locking onto the figure who stood calmly with his hands clasped behind his back.

Her eyes, which looked ready to burst into flames, were filled with boundless hatred.

"The bell rang... and opened the gates of Hell..." She looked down at her trembling fingertips, the ones that had touched the bell, as if they were stained with invisible blood. "This isn’t a miracle... It’s a curse... It’s my fault... I believed him..."

Remorse gnawed at her heart like a viper.

The Temple Knights didn’t understand what was happening. They could only guard her anxiously, trying to console her in low voices. "Saint, this isn’t your fault! Please, calm yourself!"

Strangely, however, no matter how the Temple Knights tried to console her, none of them mentioned the Ironspine Duke’s name.

Just then, another heart-rending cry rose from below.

Several children were trapped on a windowsill about to be completely submerged by the flood. They waved their thin arms, their faces masks of terror and despair.

A gust of Withering Wind was drifting toward them.

Elizabeth’s pupils constricted. Almost without thinking, she lunged forward, trying to break free from the protective circle of her Knight guards.