Chapter 635 - 53: Break Through to Golden Core

Chapter 635: Chapter 53: Break Through to Golden Core

Murphy frowned.

’How could she not be here?’

He looked out the window. The night was deep, and the lights of Taymer Palace twinkled in the distance.

If Margaret were here and knew he had arrived, she would have come out to see him. It was impossible that she wouldn’t.

Eleanor, buried in his embrace, said in a muffled voice, "She’s not here. She’s just... not."

Murphy lowered his head, intending to pull her from his arms to ask her what was going on, but he suddenly felt the front of his shirt grow damp.

Warm and wet, the moisture slowly spread.

His movements froze.

Eleanor’s shoulders began to tremble.

This wasn’t the playful, cunning quiver she’d had before. It was a genuine, irrepressible, violent shudder that came from deep within her.

"Eleanor?"

Murphy’s voice grew grave.

Eleanor didn’t answer. She just buried her face deeper, her hands clutching his shirt tightly.

Murphy could feel the warm liquid continuing to flow, soaking his clothes and the back of his hand.

’This isn’t fake crying.’

’This is real.’

His brow furrowed even tighter, and his heart sank.

"Eleanor," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving no room for refusal. "Look at me."

Eleanor was forced to raise her head.

Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were as red and swollen as walnuts. Tears continued to well up, sliding down her cheeks and falling, drop by drop, onto his hand.

Her lips trembled. She tried to say something, but only broken sobs escaped.

Suddenly, Murphy’s heart clenched.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was very soft. "Tell me, what happened?"

Eleanor opened her mouth, but a choke was all that came out.

Then, she threw herself back into his arms and began to wail.

Her cries were heart-wrenching, as if emotions suppressed for far too long had finally burst their dams. It was as if all the grievances, sorrow, longing, and pain of the last ten years were pouring out in this single moment.

"Mom... Mom..."

she sobbed intermittently, her voice so broken it was nearly unintelligible.

"Mom... during the great battle with the Ironspine Duke... she died..."

Murphy’s body went rigid.

The Ironspine Duke.

The great battle.

The memories came rushing back like a flood tide—the skies above the Holy City, the shattered void, the annihilating radiance, and his own consciousness on the verge of fading away completely.

He remembered preparing to risk everything.

His Dao Transformation Level climbed to 90%, 91%, 92%... He let himself hurtle down that path of no return, all for the sake of completely erasing the Ironspine Duke in that final minute.

He had succeeded.

But he had also failed.

He succeeded in that the Ironspine Duke was dead.

He failed in that he himself should have died, too.

Once the Dao Transformation Level surpassed 100%, every single point it increased further blurred the line between his self and the world.

When he reached 120%, his self-awareness should have, by all logic, completely dissolved, becoming a part of the world, ceasing to exist.

But he had survived.

’How did I survive?’

He had always thought it was luck, or perhaps some unseen force that had protected him.

Now, he knew.

Eleanor was still crying, her words broken and interspersed with sobs and whimpers.

"Mom... Mom did it to save you... She... she gave it her all... fighting with the other Wizards in the Sanctuary... to get... to get the Withered Heart..."

She lay in Murphy’s arms, her small body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"She... she was gravely injured... but she... she held on... opened a Plane Passage... and sent the Withered Heart out..."

"And then... and then..."

Her voice completely shattered, leaving only whimpers.

Murphy’s hand froze in mid-air.

’So that’s what happened.’

’So that’s how it was.’

The Withered Heart. The ancient legacy that could elevate one’s Spiritual Power to terrifying heights in a short time. The very thing that had allowed him to stabilize his consciousness and preserve that final sliver of clarity amidst the torrent of Dao Transformation.

He had always assumed that Margaret and Othilia had retrieved it from the Sanctuary together. He thought they had only suffered minor injuries after succeeding. He thought she was still recuperating in the Sanctuary. He thought that one day, she would be able to escape that Half-Plane and return to his side.

’But that wasn’t it at all.’

’The moment she sent it out, she was already... ’

"When Mom... when Mom opened the Plane Passage... she... she couldn’t hold on anymore..."

Eleanor cried, tears and snot smearing her face, though she was oblivious to it. She just clung desperately to Murphy’s shirt as if it were her last lifeline.

"Even... even her puppet... couldn’t move anymore... Mom... Mom is really dead..."

Murphy listened to her words, taking in every single one. Each felt like a dull knife, carving itself into his heart.

He remembered the first time he saw her in the Monte Territory—a girl in a light purple velvet dress who looked so much like Othilia.

He remembered the voice that had whispered "Master" in his ear, a sound tinged with allure and cunning, yet hiding a deep dependence and affection.

He remembered her at Taymer Palace, by Mirror Lake, when she’d sullenly told him, "Master, you don’t need to say you’re sorry. Not ever."

He remembered the things she had said—

"Master, you rarely call me ’Maggie’ so affectionately..."

"My longing, my hope, my joy, my worries... almost all of my emotions and purpose are poured into my connection with you, Master."

"This wholehearted, unreserved ’love’ is what allows me, amidst the torrent of Elementalization, to always remember who I am, why I must persevere, and where I must return."

She said she had to return to his side.

She gave everything she had, trying to return to his side.