Murphy listened in silence. "What is Your Highness’s purpose in telling this?" he asked.
Elizabeth looked up, her dark eyes exceptionally bright in the shade of the trees, even holding a hint of fervor.
"The Church Court has decided to hold a public selection in the Holy City for the next generation of ’Saints.’ They say it’s to solidify the faith and strengthen communication with Oriane."
Murphy frowned slightly. "A Saint? According to a thousand years of records, that’s a title for soone who has demonstrated saintly virtue, perford miracles, and earned both the recognition of the faithful and the unanimous endorsent of the Church Court’s leadership. A public selection?"
Elizabeth replied calmly, "The Pope’s Throne has not graced the mortal world for a long ti. In this age, the College of Cardinals *is* the embodint of saintly virtue and miracles."
Murphy gave her a long look. "So, Your Highness wishes to participate?"
"Yes," Elizabeth answered without the slightest hesitation. "I must go. It was you... you who helped understand kindness and responsibility. But you also made see just how powerless good intentions alone are. I can’t forget the tears of those commoners on the eastern ridge. To truly change things, to protect people, I need power. And in Vilt, on this entire Continent, what power is greater or more legitimate than the Church Court’s?"
Her voice trembled slightly with emotion, yet it grew increasingly clear. "I don’t have Aunt Margaret’s talent as a Wizard, and I can’t even compare to my cousin Eleanor... I’m just an ordinary Royal Princess. In a few years, my fate will likely be a political marriage, making nothing more than an accessory to so Great Noble or a neighboring kingdom’s prince. I don’t want that."
She looked directly into Murphy’s eyes, enunciating each word. "Besides, if I beco a Saint... according to the Church Court’s ancient laws, one who serves God must dedicate body and soul to Oriane. They are exempt from all marriage contracts."
The forest wind rustled through the treetops, carrying the faint sound of laughter from the bonfire, as well as Elizabeth’s light, sweet fragrance.
Murphy was silent for a long ti, the dappled light and shadows flickering in his dark pupils.
"This path may not be as easy as you imagine," he finally said, his voice calm and level. "The Church Court is far from a monolithic entity. And the position of a Saint... it is the very center of a vortex."
"I know." Elizabeth pressed her lips together stubbornly. "But at least it’s a path I can choose for myself—one that could lead to a higher place."
Murphy looked at her, and it was as if he could see past her youthful features to the relentless determination underneath—the kind that would stop at nothing to achieve its goal.
He let out a soft sigh.
"Since you’ve thought it through, I will respect your decision."
Elizabeth’s shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and the fervent light in her eyes seed to settle, transforming into a deeper resolve.
She faced Murphy and gave him a formal curtsy.
"Thank you, Lord lfield."
With that, she lingered no longer, turning to walk toward the bright bonfire. Her lavender-clad figure gradually lted into the warmth and commotion.
Murphy stood alone in the shadow of an oak tree, gazing at the leaping flas of the bonfire. Elizabeth’s words, ’I need power,’ seed to echo in his ears.
A cool breeze swept through the woods, tugging at the hem of his robes.
He stood there for a while before walking back.
When he sat down beside Aurora again, she didn’t ask any questions. She simply handed him a freshly roasted skewer of at, still perfectly warm. Her azure eyes watched him with a gentle gaze, as if everything was understood without a word.
The bonfire continued to burn, and the aroma of food filled the air.
Murphy accepted the roasted at, feeling the Qi within him slowly circulating, growing denser and more substantial by the day.
Every breath was an act of accumulation, of refinent, steadily approaching a certain threshold.
’Soon.’
’The day I reach Qi Refining Perfection is not far off.’
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