Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System-Chapter 90 - 86: Old Realm, New Realm, Confession, Promise

Cecilia then turned to Ailendra. "Teacher, may I speak with the Baron alone for a moment?"

Ailendra agreed without hesitation. "Of course."

"Of course, but I’m not the one in charge here," Ailendra said, her gaze shifting to Murphy.

Murphy was silent for a moment before giving a slight nod. "Alright."

Seeing that Murphy had agreed, Ailendra prepared to leave.

Murphy stopped her. "You have a way to handle anyone else who heard the commotion, don’t you?"

"I’ve already taken care of them. Why else do you think no one has shown up after all this time?" Ailendra chuckled, her form gradually dissolving into specks of starlight before vanishing into the air.

Using the heightened perception from his recent breakthrough, Murphy carefully tracked the path of Ailendra’s departure. Once she was truly gone, her aura had vanished completely.

Only then did Murphy turn to Cecilia. "What did you want to say to me?"

Cecilia had regained her composure by now, with no trace of a blush on her cheeks. "Did you know? When I first found out you were Sylvan, I was terrified. But after my teacher showed me the truth, that fear vanished. Instead, I was incredibly happy."

’The Thousand-Faced Illusion Disguise really isn’t flawless after all,’ Murphy thought. ’My Black Light Energy is stronger now, but I still don’t know how much that improves it.’

’What worried him more was how far-reaching this Black Light Energy seemed to be. Even a Wizard like Ailendra was so deferential toward the so-called Mechanical Witch. And with all this talk of an Old Realm and a New Realm... the situation was likely far more complicated than he had imagined.’

Murphy kept his expression neutral. "Is that all you wanted to say? Aren’t you going to ask why I’m hiding here?"

Cecilia shook her head gently. "There’s no point. In my eyes, you were never the Baron. You were always..."

Murphy cut her off. "Don’t say it. I’m not interested."

But seeing the light instantly fade from Cecilia’s eyes, he paused, his tone softening. "I think I understand how you feel. You’re like someone who has fallen into an abyss and suddenly sees a single ray of light, so you desperately try to grasp it. But I have to tell you, there isn’t just one ray of light in this world—there are countless. Besides... what I did back then could hardly be called ’light’ at all."

Cecilia gazed at Murphy, her voice soft yet firm. "Everyone perceives and defines light differently. You are my light."

Her gaze seemed to travel back in time, to a courtyard on an afternoon seven years ago. "During a childhood when I was treated as a pawn by various factions, you were the only person who treated me as an equal. You were the one who showed me there was a vast world to explore beyond all the power struggles."

She took a step forward, moving closer to Murphy. "Besides, light is only meaningful when it shines at the right moment. That afternoon seven years ago was precisely when I needed a ray of light the most."

Murphy fell silent. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "That’s only because you’re still young. You haven’t seen or experienced enough of the world. In ten or twenty years, you’ll feel differently."

"But this is how I feel now!" Cecilia’s voice suddenly grew emotional, her azure eyes flashing with a stubborn light. "You can’t deny that what I’m feeling right now is real."

Murphy felt a headache coming on. He sighed in resignation. "Fine. If you still feel this way in ten or twenty years, you can tell me then."

"But I’m going to the New Realm," Cecilia said, a sudden note of anxiety in her voice.

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "And you can’t come back from there?"

"No, it’s not that I can’t come back," Cecilia said, shaking her head gently as her voice grew quiet. "But I heard my teacher say... it might be a hundred years before I can return. I’m afraid you..."

"You’re afraid I’ll be dead?" Murphy finished for her, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "How could that be? You can’t even beat me now, and you’re worried I’ll die?"

Cecilia fell silent, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her dress.

The candlelight cast a delicate shadow on her lowered lashes.

Seeing her like this, Murphy’s tone softened involuntarily. "If you can’t even wait a hundred years, then it just proves this is nothing more than an impulse. Most people have moments of impulsiveness when they’re young, but when they grow up and look back, all they feel is regret."

"I’m not being impulsive," Cecilia said, lifting her head to meet his gaze, her own firm. "I’ve thought this through. It’s how I truly feel."

"Then go prove it," Murphy said, meeting her eyes. "Use time to prove it. If you can’t, then it really was just an impulse after all."

Cecilia declared solemnly, "I will prove it’s not an impulse."

A flicker of satisfaction finally crossed Murphy’s face. "Good. Go prove it. Then you can come and tell me."

"However," Cecilia asked suddenly, "what’s your name?"

Murphy froze. Several aliases flashed through his mind, and just as he was about to speak, he saw Cecilia shake her head gently. "Never mind, you don’t have to tell me. Tell me the next time we meet. But when we do meet next, don’t break your promise again."

"Alright," Murphy agreed instinctively.

The word had barely left his lips when he felt a surge of confusion. ’What promise?’

’Shouldn’t she have said, "don’t break your promise to meet me next time"?’

’But what does "when we meet next, don’t break your promise again" mean?’

’Was it a slip of the tongue? Was she just referring to the promise to meet, telling me not to die?’

He was about to ask, but as he looked into Cecilia’s eyes—eyes that held both the characteristic impulsiveness of a young woman and a mature steadfastness beyond her years—he swallowed his question.