Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 41: The Sole Caretaker

At first, no one took Kelvin’s "sole caretaker" remark too seriously.

Tending to warhorses was already an arduous task, completely different from caring for common nags that could be raised casually.

Usually, two Grooms would take turns looking after a single warhorse, and occasionally Grooms from the common stables would be brought in to help. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Now, the entire burden fell on Murphy’s shoulders alone, which seemed like an awful chore to everyone else.

Until that unforgettable morning.

"You can pack your things and leave." The Steward’s cold voice echoed through the stables.

Old John’s partner, Matthew, stood frozen on the spot. The warhorse they cared for clearly had a glossy coat and was in excellent spirits.

"Why?" Matthew asked in disbelief.

The Steward replied without expression, "This warhorse is in excellent condition, which proves one person is sufficient to care for it. One of you has to go."

That very evening, Matthew went to find the Stable Master, bringing his prized ale in hopes of pleading his case.

But the next morning, he was seen leaving the castle with his pack on his back.

That same afternoon, another pair of Grooms was also dismissed.

The reason this time was the exact opposite: "The warhorse is in poor condition, which proves one of you is not dedicated enough."

The dismissed Groom knelt before the Stable Master’s door for an entire afternoon, but in the end, he could only depart in despair.

Old John and the middle-aged Groom, Allen, stood in a corner of the stable, their faces pale as they watched it all unfold.

"Even the Stable Master can’t protect his people..." Old John’s voice was laced with despair. "What in the world is going on?"

Allen stared intently at Murphy, who was busy by himself in the Red Leaf Stable. His voice was hoarse. "Now I finally understand the weight of that word, ’sole.’ That kid doesn’t have to go through any of this."

From that day on, the atmosphere in the stables changed completely.

Whenever Murphy tended to Red Leaf alone, the gazes from Grooms like Old John, who were from the inner stables, were filled not just with envy, but with a greater sense of resigned helplessness. They all began to work even harder, not daring to slack off for a moment, even if they didn’t know whether it would make any difference.

...

"That’s enough. There’s no need to dismiss anyone else. This is beneath our dignity, Young Master Kelvin." Knight Roton stood in the study, his brow deeply furrowed. "A noble house should maintain its proper bearing and a certain number of servants. Otherwise, other nobles will see us as a joke."

Kelvin looked up from his ledgers. "Dignity? Lord Roton, do you believe the Duval Clan can still afford this so-called dignity? The Northern Trade Route has been cut off, and the domain’s tax revenue has been halved. We’re struggling just to cover our most basic military expenses."

"But a noble’s face..."

Kelvin cut him off. "Prestige doesn’t pay the bills. Father was too concerned with face, and that’s why he let the castle support so many idle hands. Before, if a laundry maid ruined a shirt, she would be whipped at most. But now? That shirt is worth more than her life. We cannot afford such a mistake."

Roton fell silent for a moment. He had to admit that Kelvin had a point.

But he still insisted, "What makes a noble a noble is that we maintain our proper composure under all circumstances. If we cannot even manage that, how are we any different from those nouveau riche merchants?"

Kelvin closed the ledger. "The difference is that merchants know how to budget carefully, while we’re suffering just to save face. Lord Roton, I respect your loyalty and experience, but times have changed. If we cannot restore our domain’s strength soon, I fear we will lose the privilege of maintaining even a final shred of dignity."

The old knight opened his mouth, but ultimately, he offered no rebuttal.

He had to admit that while the young man’s words were harsh, every one of them rang true.

It was just not an easy thing for an old-school knight, who had served the Duval Clan his entire life, to fully accept these reforms—especially when they were being implemented by an illegitimate son.

...

「Six months passed in a flash.」

The number of servants in the castle had been reduced by nearly another thirty percent, but every person who remained was a capable hand who could work independently.

The same was true in the stables. The elderly Grooms left one after another, leaving only the most experienced middle-aged Grooms and a few exceptional young men.

No one was exempt, from the Upper-class Grooms to the Chief Grooms.

It was early summer, and the evening wind still carried a slight chill.

Murphy, Bart, and Hank, the three of them, sat in their dormitory, enjoying a rare moment of leisure.

Bart chewed on a stalk of hay, his tone relaxed. "My mother sent a letter a few days ago. She said the wheat at home is growing well. Looks like we’ll have a good harvest this year."

Hank smiled. "My wife wrote, too. Our little son is finally well after being sick for six months. It’s all thanks to those copper plates you lent me, Murphy. Otherwise, I couldn’t even have scraped together the money for his medicine."

Murphy shook his head. "It was nothing. But what about you two? How have you been lately?"

Bart shrugged. "What can I say? We work on eggshells every day, terrified that one slip-up will get us sent home. But honestly, even though the work is more exhausting now, at least we don’t have to worry about food." He paused, his voice dropping. "Not many families in New Wood Town made it through this past winter."

At his words, the room fell silent.

Hank suddenly remembered something and changed the subject, turning to Murphy. "Speaking of which, there was something I wanted to ask you. Annie from the laundry asked me to pass on a message. She’s quite taken with you. The girl’s only sixteen, a hard worker, and pretty, too. If you’re interested, I could set something up?"

Murphy paused, slightly taken aback, then shook his head. "Please thank her for me, but I have no plans to start a family right now."

Bart asked, confused, "Why not? You’re an Upper-class Groom now. Your wages are higher than ours ever were. Isn’t this the perfect time to settle down and start a family?"

Murphy gazed at the setting sun outside the window and said softly, "Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

He fiddled with a piece of straw beside him. "Besides, I can barely take care of myself. How could I dare hold another man’s daughter back?"

Hank tried to persuade him. "A girl like that can take care of herself. If you two build a life together, it’s better than being alone. She does the washing, you tend the horses. You’d make a life of it somehow."

Bart chimed in, "That’s right. Have a child, and you’ll have someone to look after you when you’re old. Isn’t that how people like us have always done it?"

Just then, the neigh of a warhorse echoed from the distance. Murphy stood up. "It’s time to feed Red Leaf."

Hank and Bart stood up with him.

Bart clapped Murphy on the shoulder. "In any case, give it some thought. She’s a good girl."

Murphy just smiled without saying anything.

’It wasn’t that he was an ascetic. The girl they considered "pretty" was just a poor girl who toiled all day, with rough skin and plain looks.’

’If Murphy had to choose...’

’The image of Miss Douglas’s face flashed through his mind.’

’That girl was exceptionally beautiful. Her long, jet-black hair made her skin look whiter than snow. She was the very picture of a budding beauty.’

’Now, if it were a woman like *that*, he would agree without a second thought.’

Murphy walked into the stable, but instead of feeding the horse, he leaned against the manger and silently began practicing [Breathing and Guiding].

With ample nutrition to fuel his Cultivation, he had become strong enough three months ago to lift a 110-kilogram weight with a single arm, possessing the strength of a new Knight’s Attendant.

Since then, however, the Qi in his body seemed to have hit an invisible wall. No matter how he activated [Breathing and Guiding] or how much nutrition he absorbed, his Qi refused to increase by even the smallest amount.

It was like a bucket that was already full; no matter how much more water was poured in, it would only spill out uselessly.

But now, after another three months of arduous Cultivation and accumulation, the situation was completely different.

Murphy could clearly feel the barrier holding him back trembling violently. The once-stagnant Qi began to surge and churn through his meridians, as if about to break through a critical bottleneck at any moment.