Perhaps...

’Was it because, in that chaotic passage in the refugee camp, he was moved by the pity in her eyes for that despairing woman?’

’Was it because at Silent Pass, though terrified, she didn’t break down, and even gripped that useless dagger at the very end?’

’Or perhaps, was it simply because, in this land soaked in blood and despair, seeing a young soul whose edges had not yet been completely worn away made him subconsciously... not want her to adapt too quickly?’

He harbored no grand resolution to change the world.

That was too heavy a burden, too distant a goal, and far too unrealistic.

Since transmigrating, his core objective had always been clear and firm: survive, and help himself and those he cared about live better lives.

To that end, he would use any means necessary to acquire power, cautiously navigate between the various factions, and even make ruthless sacrifices when required.

For him to sacrifice his own safety and that of his family for some lofty ideal or for the sake of some unrelated masses was absolutely out of the question.

’So, what was the point of that almost-superfluous "explanation"?’

Murphy’s consciousness drifted in the lulls of his circulating Qi.

’Perhaps it was just a faint hope, one he didn’t even fully understand himself?’

’A hope that in this world where the strong were revered, the hierarchy was rigid, and tens of thousands of lives were treated as game pieces, there could be a few more people like Elizabeth—people who would at least feel uncomfortable and confused by the fine line separating heaven from hell.’

’A hope that those who held power and authority might, even for just a moment when making decisions, remember the scene on the other side of that "line," and not just the cold numbers and strategic gains and losses.’

’Is this... being like-minded?’

No, it was far from it.

He had no intention of looking for any "comrades."

Comrades implied shared ideals and struggles, and an awareness that one might have to sacrifice for them.

He lacked that kind of awareness. His "path" had always revolved around the small circle of himself and his closest kin.

’Perhaps it’s more like... a faint desire to make his surroundings a little more "palatable," but only within the scope of his abilities and without endangering his own fundamental interests?’

It was like how he governed the Monte Territory with good order, giving its people relatively stable lives and introducing new technologies to increase production.

This was, of course, to strengthen the territory’s power and secure the material resources to enhance his own strength.

But seeing the people under his rule living and working in peace, not numbly waiting for death like the refugees outside his gate, like the victims of the border wars, or like the people of the former Duval Territory, ultimately brought an indescribable sense of peace to his heart.

That was all.

Just then, the faint sound of women’s whispers and somewhat disorderly footsteps from the courtyard outside interrupted Murphy’s thoughts.

It must be Elizabeth’s maids, arriving with her luggage.

His thoughts were pulled back to reality.

Murphy slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, suppressing those scattered thoughts.

’The Wizards’ ambitions, the Church Court’s schemes, the upheaval in the Holy City, the fissure in the Iron Ridge Mountain Range, the monsters of the Deep Red Wilderness... Just what is the root cause of this turmoil sweeping across the Continent?’

’Is it the Wizards’ greedy pursuit of ancient power?’

’Is it the eruption of long-festering corruption within the Church Court?’

’Or is it some grander, more ancient cyclical rhythm?’

’Forget it. My level isn’t high enough. Overthinking it is pointless.’

The most important thing right now was to gain a firm foothold in this vortex, accumulate power, and ensure the safety of himself and those he cared for.

Blackstone Fortress was no place to linger. It seemed to be the heart of the front lines, but it was actually fraught with danger.

The Peric Clan’s attitude was ambiguous, the intentions of the two injured powerhouses were hard to fathom, and the situation on the front lines was changing by the second.

He had to increase his strength as quickly as possible.

Murphy refocused his mind, sinking his entire consciousness into his body.

The flow of his Qi gradually accelerated, growing more condensed as it advanced toward Quality 2.0.

Deep within his spirit, the Black Light Mana, already at a high Quality of 3.0, lay dormant like a slumbering abyss.

The damage to his Flying Sword had been initially repaired, but it needed further reinforcement, and he planned to integrate new materials into it.

’The Ironspine Duke’s mineral supply channels must also be put to good use...’

And only power.

In this world, only the power one personally controlled was the fundamental support for dealing with any change and protecting one’s own small corner of the world.

The clamor from the lower levels, the silence of the courtyard, the Princess’s confusion, the schemes of the higher-ups...

In the face of absolute power, all of it could be navigated, resisted, or simply shattered!

Murphy’s breathing gradually became long and steady. In the warm room, his figure seemed to transform into a silent volcano.

Only the surging Qi within his body lay dormant beneath it, like magma.