Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

In a residence in the west wing of the Baron’s Castle, a fire in the hearth burned brightly, completely shutting out the howling winter wind outside.

This room, belonging to Lawrence, was elegantly furnished. Heavy wool tapestries concealed the chill of the stone walls, and warm candlelight flickered on exquisite silver candlesticks.

Arthur, Luca, and an old follower named Gilbert sat around a carved oak table. On it were gilt-rimmed glass goblets filled with amber-colored mead.

The four of them first made small talk as usual.

Arthur mentioned that his wife had recently become obsessed with velvet and had commissioned three new cloaks this month alone.

Luca complained that the stock of wine from the South in the cellar was running low, and the new merchant caravan was late due to the heavy snow.

Gilbert, for his part, showed off his new silver belt buckle, its intricate carvings faintly visible in the candlelight.

After a few rounds of drinks, Lawrence gently set down his goblet, his expression gradually turning serious.

"Gentlemen," he said, looking around at the three men present, "to be frank, what are your thoughts on the territory’s future?"

Arthur slowly swirled the goblet in his hand. "The Lord Baron has always been wise and far-sighted. Why should we worry unnecessarily?"

Luca took a sip of mead. "Indeed. Times may be turbulent, but the Baron’s Castle is safe, at least."

Gilbert toyed with his belt buckle, smiling without a word.

Lawrence took a deep breath, his voice low but clear. "There are no outsiders here, so I’ll be direct. If things continue like this, the Duval Territory has no future."

"Lawrence!" Arthur’s expression changed abruptly. "You must be drunk. We’ll pretend we didn’t hear that."

Luca quickly tried to smooth things over. "Old friend, you can’t just say things like that."

Gilbert frowned as well. "Watch your words, Lawrence. Watch your words."

"Drunk? I’m more sober than I’ve ever been." Lawrence’s gaze was piercing. "Anyone with eyes can see that war is imminent. But look at us! The territory’s defenses are a sham, and the Lord won’t even levy the necessary war taxes. When Rosenia’s iron cavalry comes charging across the border, what will we use to stop them?"

Luca was unconcerned. "Worst comes to worst, we defend the Baron’s Castle. According to the rules among nobles, as long as we surrender, we can save our lives and our dignity. The territory’s affairs might be affected, but at least..."

"Naive!" Lawrence slammed his hand on the table. "You think you can maintain this lifestyle after surrendering? Look at the mead in your goblet!"

He pointed at Luca. "This is a delicacy from the South. Once the trade routes are cut off, will you still be able to enjoy such fineries?"

Gilbert chuckled and shook his head. "We just have to get through this difficult period. It’ll be fine once the war is over..."

"’Difficult period?’" Lawrence sneered, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. "You think it’s as simple as the trade routes being cut? Those Barbarians from Rosenia will swarm like locusts, plundering the wealth we’ve accumulated in this territory. They’ll take the last grain of wheat from our granaries, empty every last cask from our cellars, and they won’t even spare the jewels in your wives’ jewelry boxes."

He continued, "Arthur, your wife commissions new velvet cloaks every month. Are you going to make her show her face in rough woolen felt? Luca, that thirty-year-old vintage you treasure in your cellar—are you going to trade it for the swill that farmers drink? Gilbert, that new silver-inlaid carriage you just acquired—are you going to swap it for a crude wooden cart?"

At his words, Arthur couldn’t help but think of the velvet cloak his wife had just bought. Luca stared blankly at the remaining mead in his goblet. Gilbert’s hand subconsciously strayed to the Silver Button on his belt.

Lawrence’s voice grew heavier. "Perhaps we can endure poverty, but what about our families? Can they accept the fall from a life of luxury to one of simple fare? When our wives and daughters are forced to sell their jewelry, when our tables no longer see any delicacies, how will we face their disappointed eyes?"

A dead silence fell over the room, broken only by the occasional CRACKLE of the fire in the hearth.

After a long while, Arthur sighed. "But... what can we do to change any of this?" 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Luca shook his head. "Indeed. The Lord Baron’s decisions are not something we can influence."

Gilbert chimed in softly, "What can we do but resign ourselves to fate?"

A sharp glint flashed in Lawrence’s eyes. "There is. There is a way. Remember what the Holy Scripture says: ’All who take the sword will perish by the sword.’"

The faces of the three men changed drastically.

Arthur shot to his feet. "You’re insane!"

Luca waved his hands frantically. "Don’t you ever say such treacherous words again!"

Gilbert, even more alarmed, glanced around and hissed in a low voice, "Lawrence, you really are drunk out of your mind!"

"’Insane? I’m not the one who’s insane.’" Lawrence sneered, his voice filled with long-suppressed resentment. "Sylvan is the one who’s insane! That usurper! Do you remember how Sylvan murdered my uncle, the Roton Knight, to take power?"

He looked around at the three of them, his voice growing more agitated. "If Sylvan could lead the territory to prosperity, I, Lawrence, would have no complaints. But look at what he’s done! Refusing to levy war taxes, acting as a stable hand for landless court nobles... It’s utterly humiliating for the Duval Clan! If the Old Baron were still alive, would he ever allow such a disgrace?"

Lawrence continued to roar, "And that’s not all! He’s obsessed with those bizarre workshops all day, making the commoners search everywhere for magnetic iron ore and flammable black oil. He even demands they capture lizards, rabbits, and rats with specific patterns—and each one has to be identical to the last! These absurd tasks might not cost much money, but they waste immense manpower! Even the soldiers are sent into the deep mountains and old forests to search, neglecting their daily training! It’s a complete dereliction of duty for trivial pursuits!"

Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "But... Lord Sylvan is the rightful heir, after all..."

"’Rightful?’" Lawrence cut him off with a sneer. "A ’Swordless’ man who can’t even produce an heir is fit to command the Duval Territory? Think about it! Since he took the throne, how many Knight’s Attendants have we lost? How much has the territory’s tax revenue fallen?"

Luca thought for a moment, then spoke hesitantly. "But Miss Aurora and Lord Sylvan are very close. She would never agree..."

"That’s the key!" Lawrence leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Miss Aurora is the true legitimate heir, and she has already given birth to the *next* heir. If she takes power, everything will be different."

He turned to Arthur, his gaze burning. "Think about it. Once we restore normal taxation, the territory can recruit more Knight’s Attendants. Arthur, you’ve always wanted your son to become a Knight, haven’t you? Under Miss Aurora, your youngest son could easily achieve that dream."

Then he said to Luca, "And you, Luca. Your eldest son is sharp and capable. He’s perfectly suited for the important post of Tax Officer. Then your family could control the territory’s finances for generations."

Finally, he looked at Gilbert. "As for you, Gilbert. When the territory’s revenue increases, the business interests of all the followers will prosper. You won’t just continue to enjoy your current life, you’ll be able to accumulate even more wealth for your descendants."

Arthur, who had been standing, sank back into his chair, his hands falling limply onto his knees.

Luca unconsciously rubbed the rim of his goblet, his knuckles turning white.

Gilbert, meanwhile, took a deep breath, his eyes roving over Lawrence’s face.

The firelight cast flickering shadows on the three men’s faces, clearly revealing the wavering in their eyes.

Lawrence pressed his advantage. "We are not committing treason. We are saving the Duval Territory. Are you going to just stand by and watch this ancient family wither and die in Sylvan’s hands?"

A long silence filled the room, with only the slight tremor of mead in the glass goblets.

...

「The next afternoon.」

In a lady’s sitting room in the east wing of the castle, Aurora and Miss Lawrence were enjoying afternoon tea.

Although Miss Lawrence was the mistress of Aurora’s nominal husband, Edgar, her relationship with Aurora was surprisingly harmonious.

Besides, in these noble circles, it was not unusual for a wife and a mistress to maintain a friendly relationship.

Miss Lawrence elegantly lifted her teacup, her gaze falling on Aurora’s fingers. "Your nails today are simply stunning. The light purple pattern of stars and moons complements your temperament perfectly."

Aurora happily stretched her fingers, letting the sunlight from the window glint off the sparkling pattern on her nails. "My brother said this color suits me well."

Miss Lawrence watched Aurora’s blissful expression and thought to herself, ’If Sylvan weren’t ’Swordless,’ and if Aurora’s child didn’t have black hair, so completely different from Sylvan’s curly golden locks, I would almost suspect there was something unusual about the siblings’ relationship.’

"The Lord Baron has always had exceptional taste," Miss Lawrence flattered, then deftly changed the subject. "Speaking of which, there’s a new hair ornament that’s become popular in Silver Radiance City recently, woven from Pearls and Sapphires..."

After the two ladies chatted a bit longer about the latest fashion and gossip among the nobility, Miss Lawrence said, as if by the by, "My father has been wanting to discuss some matters concerning the territory with you. I was wondering if you might have some free time in the coming days?"

Aurora gently set down her teacup and thought for a moment. "As it happens, I have nothing planned for today. Please have Mr. Lawrence come over."

A short while later in the drawing room, Old Lawrence bowed respectfully to Aurora.

He first gave a detailed report on various territorial affairs, from preparations for the spring planting to border defenses, before his tone suddenly shifted.

"My Lady, forgive your old servant for speaking bluntly, but the territory is in a difficult situation. Lord Sylvan’s methods of rule are deeply concerning. For the future of the Duval Clan, perhaps... you should be the one to rule the territory."

Aurora was just lifting her teacup to her lips when she heard this. Her wrist trembled violently, and the delicate porcelain cup clattered against its saucer, nearly splashing warm tea onto her skirt.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You... you want me to usurp the throne!"