Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 110 - 104: Night Visit

Over the next few days, a series of meetings were held within Duval Castle.

During the third formal meeting, held in the castle’s main hall, Princess Margaret was seated at the head of the long table. Archbishop John sat to her right, and Murphy sat opposite them.

"Baron Sylvan," Princess Margaret began, her voice gentle and warm, "according to the Royal Family’s calculations, the Duval Territory must contribute fifty thousand Gold Coins to the war tax. Considering the territory’s unique circumstances, this is the absolute lowest amount we can ask."

Murphy, in his role as Sylvan, put on a troubled expression, but his gaze was involuntarily drawn to the Amethyst Necklace the princess wore.

The necklace rested perfectly between her delicate collarbones, shimmering with a captivating luster in the candlelight.

"Her Highness," he said, his voice laced with slight hesitation, "the Duval Territory’s tax revenues have been poor in recent years. I’m afraid it will be difficult to afford such a substantial sum..."

Archbishop John suddenly interjected, "If the Lord Baron finds the burden too heavy, you might consider incorporating the Duval Territory into the Church Court’s parish. The Truth Church Court has always been generous to its pious followers. In that case, not only could a portion of your taxes be remitted, but you would also gain the Church Court’s protection."

Murphy noticed Princess Margaret’s brow furrow almost imperceptibly.

She gently raised a hand to adjust the hair at her temple, a movement that made the snowy expanse below her collarbones tremble—a truly seismic view.

Murphy’s gaze followed the movement, and it was as if he were transfixed, unable to look away.

"I must disagree, Archbishop." The Princess’s voice remained gentle. "The Duval Clan has served Duke Douglas for generations, and Duke Douglas has served the Royal Family for generations. Therefore, now more than ever, we should unite under His Majesty the King’s banner."

She turned to Murphy, a subtle glimmer in her eyes. "Lord Baron, wouldn’t you agree?"

As if snapping out of a trance, Murphy nodded quickly. "Her Highness the Princess is right. The Duval Territory will always be loyal to the Royal Family."

He hesitated for a moment before steeling his resolve. "In that case, I am willing to accept this levy of fifty thousand Gold Coins."

Archbishop John’s expression immediately darkened.

...

After the banquet that evening, Murphy was alone in his study, going over the ledgers.

A heavy parchment ledger lay open on the oak desk, a candelabrum casting flickering shadows across the room.

’Fifty thousand Gold Coins...’ he thought.

Based on the current tax income, even if he collected ten years’ worth of taxes in advance, it would still be nowhere near enough.

This was the true purpose of Princess Margaret and Archbishop John’s visit.

They wanted either money or manpower.

Since Murphy couldn’t provide a large number of troops, he had no choice but to offer money.

All the discussions about tax policy were mere window dressing.

The Royal Family and the Church Court didn’t care how the money was raised; they only cared about getting their hands on it in the end.

But despite this shared overarching goal, the two had competing secondary interests.

Archbishop John had always hoped to incorporate the Duval Territory into the Church’s parish.

Had it been the real Sylvan and the Former Lady Baron, they might have agreed.

But Murphy knew that becoming a parish wouldn’t necessarily mean lower taxes.

In fact, to pay the higher tithes demanded by the Church Court, the territory’s taxes would likely increase without anyone noticing.

Just then, the study door was pushed open gently.

Princess Margaret had arrived uninvited. She had changed into a deep red gown, the subtle patterns on its hem shimmering faintly in the candlelight.

"Still worrying about the taxes, Lord Baron?" she asked, gliding closer and bringing a delicate, elegant fragrance with her.

Murphy shot to his feet, his gaze involuntarily drawn to her slender waist. "Her Highness... I am trying to find a solution."

The Princess leaned gently against the edge of the desk, her fingertips brushing across the open ledger. "Actually... there might be a more flexible solution." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "If you could arrange to pay in installments, perhaps that would alleviate the immediate pressure."

From this angle, Murphy had a clear view of the fair skin beneath her neckline.

He swallowed hard, his voice a little dry. "Her Highness means to say...?"

"I can put in a good word for you with my father, the King." A subtle glint appeared in the Princess’s eyes. "However, you’ll need to show sufficient sincerity."

...

「The next morning, in the castle’s council hall.」

Archbishop John once again proposed reorganizing the territory into a parish. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

The Archbishop’s tone was clearly meant to apply pressure. "The Lord Baron should understand that becoming a parish offers not only tax benefits but also the military protection of the Church Court. The heretic armies of Rosenia will show no mercy to the border lords."

Just as Murphy was about to speak, Princess Margaret chuckled softly. "You’re being a bit too hasty, Archbishop." She elegantly lifted her teacup. "The Duval Territory is an inalienable part of the Vilt Kingdom. How could it be casually turned into a parish?"

At that moment, Murphy also rose to his feet and said, "I agree with Her Highness the Princess. The Duval Territory will continue to pledge its loyalty to the Royal Family and will not be converted into a parish."

Archbishop John’s gaze turned cold in an instant.

He raised his Scepter, and the Moonlight Stone on it emitted a pure light. "Baron, you don’t seem to be thinking clearly lately."

A soft white light enveloped Murphy. He seemed dazed for a moment, but his gaze quickly hardened as he looked at the Princess. "I know exactly what I’m saying. The Duval Territory will always be loyal to the Royal Family."

A triumphant smile graced Princess Margaret’s lips.

...

That night, Murphy paced back and forth in his bedchamber.

Although he had ostensibly resisted the pressure to convert his territory into a parish, the fifty-thousand-Gold-Coin war tax still loomed over him like a mountain.

He walked to the window and gazed out at the silent territory beyond the castle walls.

If he increased taxes, the people of his territory, who had only just achieved a life with enough food and warmth, would likely be plunged back into their former lives of hunger and cold.

This went completely against the original purpose of the tax-reduction policies he had implemented over the years.

What puzzled him more was that despite perfectly playing the role of a man bewitched by the Princess for the past few days, System Option Two still wasn’t marked as complete.

This meant that Princess Margaret and Archbishop John’s suspicions about him had not yet been dispelled.

’Looks like I have to keep this act going,’ Murphy muttered to himself, his expression flickering between light and shadow in the moonlight.

...

「On the afternoon of the third day, in the castle garden, Princess Margaret and Murphy strolled side by side.」

The cold winds of the Northern Territory swept across the land, and the Princess tightened her mink cloak around herself.

"I am quite satisfied with your recent performance, Lord Baron." The Princess’s voice held a languid tone. "However, we still need to discuss the specific method of payment for the war tax."

Murphy kept close to the Princess’s side, his gaze following her every move. "I am entirely at Your Highness’s disposal."

The Princess suddenly stopped and turned to face Murphy. "If you had to choose between higher taxes and converting to a parish, which would you pick?"

Murphy answered without hesitation, "I would rather increase the taxes. I would never allow the Duval Territory to become a parish."

This answer seemed to please the Princess.

She chuckled softly and continued walking. "Rest assured, I won’t make things too difficult for you. I’ve already sent a rider to the Royal Capital with all speed, carrying the proposal for installment payments."

"Thank you, Her Highness." Murphy bowed deeply, but a cold glint flashed in his downcast eyes.

...

Over the next few days, Murphy gradually made more concessions.

In addition to the war tax, he also agreed to provide provisions for the Royal Family’s troops passing through and promised to dispatch the territory’s Knight’s Attendants to assist in the defense during wartime.

Every concession was made at Princess Margaret’s "suggestion."

And every time Archbishop John attempted to intervene, Murphy stood firmly on the Princess’s side.

Although Archbishop John was greatly displeased by this, he was well aware that Princess Margaret’s skills were indispensable for making these border lords obediently pay their war taxes.

Furthermore, his previous attempt to free Murphy from the control had been fruitless.

After all, a person’s heart could change over time.

Perhaps it had been the effect of [Control Human] at first, but as time went on and Murphy was gradually seduced, it had transformed into genuine, heartfelt emotion.

During a break in one of the meetings, Archbishop John said to Murphy with a profound look, "Lord Baron, I hope you won’t regret the choices you’ve made today. Some things that appear beautiful often conceal great danger."

Murphy immediately responded in a firm tone, "My loyalty to Her Highness the Princess will never change."

Princess Margaret, who overheard this from nearby, broke into a satisfied smile.

Seeing this, Murphy, as if inspired, hurried to the Princess’s side at the end of the meeting and said in a low voice, "Your Highness, have I not been performing well recently? I wonder if I might invite you to my room tonight? I have a few bottles of aged wine from the South treasured in my cellar, and an exquisite set of crystal glassware..."

This time, Princess Margaret didn’t refuse outright. She only gave him a meaningful glance and said, "Let me consider it."

...

That night, in a guest room in the castle’s east wing, Princess Margaret and Archbishop John were discussing their upcoming itinerary.

"It seems our mission in this territory is complete," Archbishop John said while packing his belongings. "We should depart for the White Maple Territory to the west tomorrow."

Princess Margaret stood at the window, gazing at the bright moonlight outside. "Well, you’ve achieved your goal, at least."

"And have you not?" the Archbishop retorted.

The Princess turned around, a profound look in her eyes. "No. There is still one goal I have yet to achieve."

"Be careful," the Archbishop said in a low voice, the Moonlight Stone on his Scepter glowing faintly. "Do not do anything that violates our doctrine."

The Princess laughed softly, her fingertips elegantly toying with the golden tassel on the edge of the curtain, wrapping it around her slender fingers. "I’m merely curious about our dear Baron’s research. We’ve spent all these days discussing taxes, and I haven’t had a single chance to learn about his famous workshop."

"You’d better be," the Archbishop’s voice carried a clear warning.

Late that night, Princess Margaret was dressed in a wine-red velvet gown, its hem embroidered with delicate crescent moon patterns in silver thread. On her legs, she wore a pair of exquisite black silk stockings, their cuffs adorned with tiny pearls.

She arrived silently before Murphy’s bedchamber and rapped gently on the door.