Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Murphy’s voice was as calm as still water. "And what if I refuse?"

Margaret swallowed softly and slowly stood up.

Moonlight streamed through the window, coating her plain white robe in a silvery sheen.

She paced lightly across the cold flagstones, barefoot. In the moonlight, her silvery-white toenails glistened like pearls.

Her ink-black hair rippled with shimmering light, cascading slowly down her slender back.

As she reached the center of the room and gracefully turned to face Murphy, the candlelight perfectly illuminated her delicate profile.

Beneath her well-defined nose, her full lips glowed with a natural crimson, while her eyes, dark as jade, swirled with a mysterious luster in the candlelight.

The loose robe swayed gently with her movements, vaguely outlining the graceful curves of her figure, yet it couldn’t hide her innate noble air.

"Master, would you care to hear a story?" Her voice was as soft as the wind, yet it held an irresistible magic.

Murphy stood motionless, his gaze resting calmly on her, as if he had long anticipated this moment.

Margaret tilted her head back slightly, her gaze seeming to pierce through time and space to a distant past. "The very first Enchanting Witch was born in the filthiest of bathhouses." Her voice held a strange rhythm, each word like the incantation of an ancient Spell. "She was sold there when she was very young, suffering unimaginable abuse every day. The noble lords treated her as a plaything, leaving marks on her body with branding irons and teaching her obedience with whips."

Her voice gradually lowered. "But just as she grew up, a miracle happened. When the most brutal nobleman was about to assault her, the power slumbering within her suddenly awakened. In that instant, everyone who had ever abused her became her most loyal slave. She made that nobleman kill his own wife and children with his own hands, and then made the bathhouse madam kneel on the floor and lick her toes."

A strange light shone in Margaret’s eyes, and a mysterious smile played on her lips. "From then on, she climbed step by step to the pinnacle of power. Those who had once bullied her became her most loyal dogs, and those who had once scorned her groveled and begged at her feet. She built her own Wizard Tower and made the entire Wizard World tremble before her Magic Power."

The moment her voice fell, those jade-black eyes suddenly changed color, transforming into deep green vortexes where countless stars seemed to swirl in a cycle of birth and death.

The light grew brighter and brighter, enveloping the entire room in an eerie green glow.

Murphy, however, showed no surprise, simply watching the scene unfold in silence.

’He’d long since understood that this girl’s loyalty couldn’t be trusted based on her sweet vows alone.’

"Master, you will eventually become my slave..." Margaret’s voice was filled with a morbid fanaticism, but she immediately added urgently, "No, you are my master, and also the slave who belongs to me, my one and only master. I don’t need to have many slaves like those other Enchanting Witches. I only need you..."

Her voice gradually became ethereal, her green eyes flashing with a complex light that held both devout worship and a dangerous possessiveness.

She took a step forward, her bare feet leaving faint green imprints on the flagstones. Her silvery-white toenails shone with an eerie luster in the green light.

As she spoke, a sapphire-blue light also began to shine in Murphy’s eyes, and a similar river of stars began to swirl in his pupils.

That light intertwined with Margaret’s green light in the air, forming a strange curtain of light.

"You think you can control me with just this?" Murphy’s voice was still calm, but it now held a barely perceptible chill.

Margaret tilted her head slightly, a flicker of obsession in her vortex-like green eyes. "No, Master. I never thought of controlling you. I just... want to be by your side forever." Her fingertip lightly traced her own throat, her voice a dreamlike whisper. "You see, the thread of fate between us is already so tight. This is a destiny ordained by the heavens, a bond that no one can sever."

The sapphire-blue light in Murphy’s eyes suddenly intensified, as if countless stars were flickering in and out of existence within them. "A thread of fate? Did you know that even the most resilient threads of fate will one day break?"

"But before that day comes..." Margaret suddenly fell to her knees, her hands piously folded over her chest. Her upturned face looked exceptionally holy in the moonlight. "Please allow your most loyal slave to serve you forever."

Her voice held a heart-stopping fanaticism, and the stars in her green eyes swirled ever faster, as if about to devour the entire universe.

Murphy stared at her for a long time. Just as Margaret thought he was about to respond, the sapphire-blue light in his eyes suddenly began to change.

The blue, once as clear as a starry sky, was gradually devoured by a profound darkness, as if the stars in the night sky were being extinguished one by one.

In the end, his eyes transformed completely into two bottomless pools of darkness—a darkness deeper than the deepest night, as if it could absorb all the light in the world.

"Remember what you said today." Murphy’s voice was still calm, but his dark eyes were chilling to the bone.

The jet-black light and the eerie green halo clashed violently in the air, only to bizarrely merge into one the next moment.

Within this strange curtain of light, the figures of master and servant gradually blurred, leaving only their jet-black and deep-green eyes, shining brightly in the darkness.

...

The first light of dawn trickled through the stained-glass windows, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow on the stone floor.

Murphy slowly opened his eyes. Feeling the soft, warm presence in his arms, he let out a quiet, internal sigh.

The scenes from last night were still vivid in his mind. At the critical moment, he had mobilized the Black Light Mana within him and finally managed to gain the upper hand in the confrontation over [Control Human].

However, the very instant he gained complete control over Margaret, he sharply sensed that some strange transformation had occurred deep within her spirit.

The feeling was like a dormant seed silently sprouting in the dark, or a swirling undertow beneath a calm lake, carrying an indescribable sense of danger.

"Master, you’re awake?"

The girl in his arms had woken up at some point and was now gazing at him with hazy, dark eyes.

She raised a slender hand, her nails painted a silvery-white, and gently caressed his cheek. Her voice was husky with sleep. "This face... it’s truly captivating."

Murphy caught her restless hand, his voice low. "What? Are my other faces not handsome enough? When you saw me yesterday, my appearance had clearly changed, yet you still kept calling me Master. It seems that as long as someone is powerful enough, anyone can become your master."

"How could that be!" Margaret shot upright, her inky hair cascading down like a waterfall.

She placed a hand lightly on her lower abdomen, her tone tinged with grievance. "I was only able to recognize you through the fated connection between us. The thread of fate is always telling me of your existence..."

She suddenly leaned closer, her warm breath brushing against his ear. "Besides... Master’s ability to change his appearance at will makes me feel as if I’m experiencing countless different masters."

"Shameless," Murphy rebuked coldly, but his words only earned him a soft, infatuated giggle.

"Why should I hide anything in front of my master?" She twirled a strand of hair around her long finger, a cunning glint in her dark eyes. "Today... I don’t have to hurry to White Maple Territory. May I accompany you for a little while longer, Master?"

"No." Murphy refused without hesitation, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed. "Are you the master, or am I? Get up and dress me."

Margaret pouted slightly but still obediently slid off the bed.

She stepped barefoot onto the cold flagstones, picked up the clothes scattered on the floor, and began to dress Murphy with elegant movements.

Her silvery-white nails would occasionally brush against his skin, a casual, subtle provocation.

"Master is always so strict..." she murmured complainingly while tying his sash, but her eyes were full of mirth. "But last night, you were clearly enjoying it too..."

Murphy grabbed her wrist, a flash of warning in his dark eyes. "Watch your words."

"Yeees~" She drew out the word, obediently lowering her head and continuing her task.

Sunlight filtered through her thick lashes, casting fine shadows on her cheeks.

When the last outer robe was properly arranged, Margaret took a step back, gazing at Murphy with an obsessed look. "No matter what face you wear, you will always be the most captivating being in my eyes."

Murphy didn’t respond, merely watching the gradually brightening sky outside the window in silence.

"Go," he finally said after an unknown amount of time. "Remember your duty."

Margaret curtsied slightly, a meaningful smile on her lips. "As my master commands."

The moment she turned to leave, Murphy clearly saw a flash of green light in her eyes—deeper and more dangerous than the night before.