Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

After giving Murphy instructions on where to store the classic texts, Richard stood up and bowed. "My Lord, Her Highness the Princess is about to depart for White Maple Territory. I must return immediately to escort her, so I cannot stay long."

Hearing this, Murphy’s plan to use Richard to test the effect of Qi on people with a Spirit Root instantly evaporated.

The Captain of the Guard’s words were, after all, just one side of the story. In this strictly hierarchical aristocratic society, "the vassal of my vassal is not my vassal." Richard’s true allegiance was likely still to Margaret.

’And then there are all of Margaret’s suspicious actions...’

Besides, Richard’s duty to protect Margaret was indeed of great importance.

If something were to happen to the Princess in the borderlands, it would not only cause a diplomatic incident but also disrupt his future plans.

"Since Her Highness the Princess needs her guard, you should go at once," Murphy said with a nod.

The ten Knight’s Attendants quickly fell into formation once more.

Before the castle gates, Murphy personally held Richard’s stirrup, his posture exceedingly respectful. "Take care on your journey, Captain."

Richard accepted the gesture as his due, mounting his horse directly without so much as a polite word.

His matter-of-fact attitude made it seem as if having a Baron hold his stirrup was the most normal thing in the world.

Arthur and Luca exchanged a complicated look.

As old followers who had witnessed the Duval Clan’s more prosperous times, they couldn’t bear to see their Lord treated with such disrespect, yet they felt they had no choice but to bow their heads in the current situation.

The younger followers, however, thought it was perfectly natural. In the presence of such a distinguished Royal Guard Captain, it wasn’t too much for even a Baron to serve him personally.

Only Old Lawrence stood by with his head bowed the entire time, but his calloused hands had unconsciously clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Once Richard’s figure had vanished into the vast, snowy plains, Lawrence suddenly strode forward, his voice low and firm. "My Lord!"

Murphy stopped and turned to face the old follower who had served the Duval Clan for decades.

Lawrence’s graying beard and hair trembled slightly in the cold wind, his eyes glinting with unconcealable pain.

"Forgive my bluntness, my Lord," Lawrence said, his voice suppressing a wave of emotion, "but that Captain of the Guard’s attitude was utterly improper!"

Murphy’s expression was calm. "Continue."

"The Duval Clan has guarded the Northern Territory for generations, earning glorious military achievements for the Kingdom. We are the rightful Lords of this land. Even if we are temporarily weakened, we should not be treated with such contempt." Lawrence’s voice trembled. "His posture as he left clearly showed he sees you as... as a subordinate he can order around at will!"

In this era, the difference between having a fief and not was like a chasm.

Even if a Royal Guard Captain’s social status was equivalent to a Viscount, they were not truly in the same circle as the landed nobility, and not everyone acknowledged that equivalence.

In the pecking order of the nobility, a landed Lord was always at the top.

Even one who ruled just a small village held a status far superior to that of a landless court Count.

Snowflakes drifted onto Murphy’s shoulders. He gazed at the hoofprints in the distance, not yet faded, and said lightly, "Then what, in your opinion, should be done?"

"My Lord!" Lawrence knelt on one knee, bowing his head in the snow. "I implore you to resume the training of the Knight’s Attendants and have Miss Aurora participate, so that she may become a Knight as soon as possible. If you are willing, we old bones will teach her everything we know! I still remember the training methods left by Roton Knight when he was alive. The honor of the Duval Clan should not be trampled upon like this!"

Murphy sighed inwardly.

’These traditional training methods can increase combat strength at best, but they can’t break through the bottleneck to becoming a Knight.’

Yes, although Murphy knew that breaking through to become a Knight required a Spirit Root and Spiritual Qi, most people in this world who managed it did so in a state of confusion. They always assumed it was due to a flash of inspiration or a fated opportunity.

In reality, it was because their Spirit Root was too weak and unreliable. Only when the timing, location, and conditions were perfect, and when their mental and physical states reached a certain peak, could they occasionally capture enough Spiritual Qi to break through—or they had to rely on potions.

Murphy reached out to help the old follower up, noticing that the other attendants were also looking at him with anticipation.

He had not been oblivious to their feelings earlier. Even if the young followers thought it was natural, and even if the older generation like Arthur and Luca had resigned themselves to it, who wouldn’t want the lord they served to be more respected?

"I understand your loyalty," Murphy’s voice remained calm. "But right now, we have more important things to do."

Lawrence’s gray eyebrows furrowed, his voice filled with confusion. "My Lord, forgive me for being blunt, but is there anything more important than the honor of the Duval Clan?"

"The war tax," Murphy said flatly.

At these words, Lawrence fell silent.

Everyone in the territory knew that Princess Margaret and Archbishop John had brought with them a heavy tax.

But the Knight’s Attendants felt no firsthand pain from this. According to long-standing custom, such a heavy tax would never be levied on the armed personnel loyal to the Lord.

"I will take some men to collect the tax from the farmers at once," Lawrence declared immediately. "I guarantee we can gather the first installment within three days."

The other followers chimed in, "We are willing to share our Lord’s burden!"

Murphy looked around at them, his gaze resting on each face for a moment before he slowly asked, "Are you not my subjects as well?"

The Knight’s Attendants present held their breath, looking at one another.

Murphy suddenly chuckled. "Just kidding."

He knew that these men were his power base for ruling the territory. No matter how strong he was personally, he still needed subordinates to manage such a vast domain; it was impossible to completely disregard their feelings. Otherwise, he would not only work himself to death with administrative affairs but also risk forcing these important supporters to rebel.

Although he wasn’t afraid, given his current strength, he had no desire to waste all his time on trivial administrative matters.

"I have already asked Her Highness the Princess for an extension on the tax payment," Murphy explained. "The Royal Guard Captain came this time precisely to discuss this matter."

An image of Murphy acting humble and submissive before the Royal Guard Captain to get the tax reduced flashed through Lawrence’s mind. He was both moved and confused. "But my Lord, by long-standing custom, the war tax should be borne by the farmers. They have been under the Duval Clan’s protection for generations. Now is the time for them to repay their debt."

Murphy stared into the distance, his gaze seeming to pierce through the castle’s stone walls to the snow-covered village beyond. His voice was as steady as ever. "Lawrence, have you ever considered that if we collect every last bit of the farmers’ grain, who will be left to plant the fields next spring? If all our subjects starve to death, who will run the workshops and conduct trade?"

He turned to face the followers and continued, "How much fodder does a warhorse consume? How many blacksmiths does it take to forge a suit of armor? How many craftsmen are needed to maintain the very castle beneath our feet day and night? Can we accomplish all this by ourselves?"

Arthur couldn’t help but interject, "But my Lord, according to tradition..."

"Tradition?" Murphy cut him off. "Tradition teaches us that the relationship between a lord and his subjects is like that of a tree’s roots and its leaves. If we cut off all the roots just to survive the winter, will the tree still be able to flourish come spring?"

He looked around at his followers. "The prosperity of the Duval Territory depends not on exploiting our people, but on ensuring everyone can survive. If we treat our subjects well today, they will serve us willingly next year. How can a lord who cannot even protect his own people expect respect from others? This is the true way of a lord."

Lawrence stared blankly at the young Lord, as if seeing Sylvan, the man he had watched grow up, for the very first time.

The other followers also fell into deep thought.

"Alright, you are all dismissed," Murphy’s voice broke the silence. "Lawrence, you don’t need to worry so much. Aurora will definitely break through to become an Official Knight."

With that, Murphy turned and left.

Lawrence watched the receding back, an indescribable sense of disappointment welling up in his heart.

This disappointment was even greater than what he had felt when Sylvan had wanted him dead simply for being Roton Knight’s nephew.

Back then, the Duval Territory faced both internal and external threats; perhaps only a ruthless hand could have led the clan out of its predicament.

The initial tax reduction could be understood as a move forced by circumstances, but now, with war imminent, to be so indecisive about collecting the war tax and spout empty talk about the relationship between a lord and his subjects...

The old follower’s brow furrowed ever deeper.

’He doesn’t understand all that high-minded reasoning. He only knows that generations of lords have governed the territory this way without ever making a mistake.’

’Why is it different with Murphy?’

’The problem must be this cowardly, useless lord.’

’And Miss Aurora...’

At this thought, a sharp glint suddenly flashed in Lawrence’s cloudy eyes.

’That’s right! Miss Aurora is the rightful heir, and her child is the future of the Duval Territory.’

’Even if she is close to Sylvan, she surely wouldn’t just stand by and watch the clan’s honor be lost.’

’The Former Lady Baron thought highly of me back then and even saved my life from Sylvan.’

’Besides, my own daughter is the mistress of Aurora’s husband, Edgar...’

’Although Aurora has no feelings for Edgar, and the fact that her child was born with black hair clearly implies there’s more to the story...’

’But as a mother, she certainly wouldn’t want to see her child have no territory to inherit in the future.’

A bold idea quickly took shape in Lawrence’s mind.

’Perhaps it’s time to unite the other followers and territorial officials to support Miss Aurora’s ascension, just as Sylvan overthrew Kelvin all those years ago.’