Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 438: Chapter 90: Foundation Establishment

Ulysses glanced at the General, his gaze calm and profound:

"Power is a tool. The Empire needs tools, but more importantly, it needs tools that are controllable—tools that can serve the Imperial will. To blindly pursue an uncontrollable, immense power is to risk hurting ourselves first."

He paused before adding, "Besides, you have all witnessed the Church Court’s wariness and suppression of such power. This path is destined to be fraught with peril."

The Imperial Chancellor slowly stroked his beard, his gaze shifting back to the battlefield where the Wall of Faith was demonstrating its divine might.

"Director Ulysses is absolutely right. We can learn from this, and cooperation isn’t out of the question, but the Empire’s path must be built on its own foundation, advancing one cautious step at a time. Today’s events must be recorded in detail, brought back to the Imperial Capital, and presented to His Majesty and the Secretariat..."

His words came to an abrupt halt.

At the edge of the altar, a shadow stirred, and killing intent erupted!

The earth-yellow figure’s surprise attack was so sudden, so ruthless, aimed directly at an unguarded Elizabeth!

"That’s..." The Imperial Chancellor’s aged face froze instantly.

Ulysses’s pupils contracted to pinpricks, and his hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

Prince Charles gasped.

Every member of the Imperial Envoy held their breath.

...

Just as Muriyas’s palm, shrouded in the silent, deathly glow of earth, was about to touch Elizabeth’s back—

VMM!

A clear sword hum rang out without warning!

A streak of dark gold light, like thunder from the void, shot out faster than sound. It had moved later, but it arrived first, blocking the space between Muriyas’s palm and Elizabeth!

CLANG!

A piercing shriek of metal on metal erupted!

The condensed, deathly earth-light slammed into the streak of dark gold, erupting with sparks and a shockwave as if solid metal had collided!

The streak of light took form.

It was a flying sword, roughly three feet long. Its entire body shimmered with a dark gold luster, its design simple yet brutally sharp.

Faint, intricate patterns of lightning were just visible on the blade, which now emitted a low hum.

Its tip was pressed firmly against the center of Muriyas’s palm.

For the first time, an expression of genuine shock and rage appeared on the face Muriyas had temporarily formed from mud and earth.

He had planned this strike for a long time and was certain it would succeed. Though his power was diminished from being split and from his prior exertions, it was by no means something an ordinary Official Wizard could withstand!

"Who!?" A low, furious roar escaped Muriyas. He whipped his head around, his gaze like two solid, ochre beams of light, following the trail of energy from the dark gold flying sword and stabbing toward its source.

It was a wheelchair.

The man in the wheelchair sat quietly, calmly meeting Muriyas’s furious glare—a look that would have terrified an ordinary person to death.

"It’s you..." Muriyas’s pupils contracted, his voice filled with disbelief. "Thunder Sword Melfield? A crippled War Slave?"

His gaze locked onto Murphy, and onto the dark gold flying sword still pressed unyieldingly against his palm.

The thunderous patterns flowing across the blade made him feel a flicker of instinctual dread.

It wasn’t merely the power of thunder, but also contained a sliver of a fundamental principle, much like the Church Court’s Holy Power!

At the edge of the altar, Elizabeth, having narrowly escaped death, finally snapped back to her senses.

Her slender frame trembled as she slowly turned. Tear tracks still stained her pale face. Her jet-black eyes stared at Murphy, dozens of yards away in his wheelchair, and they swirled with the thrill of survival, utter disbelief, and an indescribably complex mix of emotions.

"Sir..."

Her lips trembled, the word barely a whisper, yet it seemed to take all the strength she had.

Across the entire battlefield, all eyes were now fixed on Murphy—from Ete I, the Great Shepherd Leader, and the Cardinals on the altar, to the envoys, nobles, and Legendary Powerhouses scattered about as spectators.

Shock!

Indescribable shock!

No one had expected it. At a moment so critical—a fatal instant when even the leaders of the Northern and Southern Church Courts were occupied—someone had intervened. And the one to block the clandestine, deadly blow was, of all people, the Legendary Knight who everyone believed was still grievously injured and confined to a wheelchair!

The nobles of the Vilt Kingdom, who were intimately aware of Murphy’s condition, were especially stunned.

The expression on William IV’s face froze, his eyes filled with a complex, unreadable emotion.

Legendary Knight Otto’s grizzled eyebrows shot up, and a sharp light glinted in his deep-set eyes. He stared intently at the dark gold flying sword, as if trying to see straight through it.

The Ironspine Duke’s gray-blue eyes, however, remained impassive.

Over with the Imperial Envoy from the Rotalia Empire, the Chancellor, Ulysses, and Prince Charles were equally astonished.

The Imperial Chancellor muttered to himself, "’Thunder Sword... He still has this much power left? And that sword...’"

Director Ulysses’s gaze was sharp as a blade, darting between Murphy and the flying sword as if he were rapidly assessing the situation.

Phlanis and the representatives from other factions began whispering amongst themselves, their gazes fixed on Murphy in utter disbelief.

The young Duke of Orleans, Charlie, still looked pale with fright.

When he saw Murphy save Elizabeth with the flying sword, he froze for a moment. Then, his eyes flashed with a mixture of bewilderment and a hint of shame for having dragged Knight Armand away to flee earlier.

He instinctively glanced at Knight Armand, who stood beside him as silent as an iron tower.

The old knight, Armand, was also staring at Murphy and his flying sword in the distance.

Unlike Charlie’s turmoil, Armand’s weathered face, after the initial shock, showed something more: a profound sense of understanding and silent reflection.