The scorching August sun poured down upon the meticulously manicured garden terrace on the south side of Monte Castle.

Grapevine trellises cast wide swaths of deep shade, while wisteria cascaded down like waterfalls. The air was filled with the fragrance of rose and rosemary.

In the center of the terrace, Murphy lay quietly propped up on a large wicker lounge chair.

He wore loose-fitting linen garments, the deep blue fabric making his face appear even more pale and drained of color.

A few strands of black hair on his forehead, damp with sweat, clung to his smooth temples.

His breaths were slightly deeper and more labored than usual, and the rise and fall of his chest was so faint it was nearly imperceptible.

The sweltering midsummer heat seemed to have no effect on Murphy. Instead, he looked as if he had just emerged from an ice cellar. The sunlight that fell upon him, far from dispelling the chill, only served to accentuate the ghastly pallor beneath his skin.

His hand rested on the armrest, the fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

Aurora sat in a wicker chair beside him, her warm palm gently covering the back of Murphy’s frigid hand. She chafed it carefully, trying to transfer her warmth to him.

Her movements were slow and gentle, but her gaze rarely left Murphy, her azure eyes filled with undisguised concern.

"Mother," Kaiden said in a low voice, standing beside the lounge chair. He had unconsciously crumpled the parchment scroll in his hand, a document concerning adjustments to the summer tax. "Is... is something wrong with Father’s Cultivation? Why is he like this...?"

Aurora looked up and gave her son a reassuring smile, though she never stopped her gentle ministrations.

"Don’t worry, Kaiden. Your father is just attempting... well, a rather unique cultivation Technique. It requires him to guide the Life Energy in his body through a deep-level recalibration. This process consumes a great deal of body heat, so feeling cold is a normal reaction. Once he has finished the adjustment, he’ll recover, and he will have advanced even further in the realm of a Legend."

As she spoke, her gaze swept over Annie and Alina, who stood not far behind Kaiden.

Annie was dressed in a sea-green summer dress, her red hair tied back in a practical ponytail. Her usual vibrant expression was replaced by concern as she gazed worriedly at Murphy.

Alina, for her part, wore a pale butter-yellow gossamer gown, her eyes lingering on Murphy’s pallid face.

"I see." Kaiden nodded, though he only half-understood. The Cultivation of the Knight’s Breathing Technique was arduous, so he could somewhat relate—to say nothing of the realm of a Legendary Knight, a state that was still beyond his imagination. "Then Father must rest well."

"Lady Aurora," Annie couldn’t help but ask softly, "Does the Thunder Sword need us to call for a Pharmacist or a Priest?"

"That won’t be necessary, Annie. Thank you." Aurora’s tone was gentle. "This is a normal part of the Cultivation process. Outside interference would only make things worse. Letting him rest quietly and keeping him warm is the best way to help."

Alina immediately stepped forward upon hearing this. "Lady Aurora is right. Disturbances must be avoided at all costs at a time like this. I’ve heard that in the Northern Lands, there are ancient remedies that use heated medicinal stones on the joints to drive away the cold... It’s just something I’ve heard, of course. Or, perhaps we should add more charcoal braziers? It feels rather drafty on this terrace."

Just then, Eleanor, who had been sitting quietly in the deep shade of a nearby wisteria trellis, gently closed the heavy Wizard’s Scripture resting on her lap.

She stood up and padded silently to the other side of the lounge chair.

The seven-year-old girl, dressed in a simple, pale green dress, looked exceptionally small contrasted against the tall, anxious figures around her.

Her black eyes, preternaturally calm for her age, first studied her father’s pale face and trembling fingertips, then shifted to her mother’s hand clutching his own.

She seemed to ponder for a moment before reaching out a small hand and placing it gently on her father’s leg, over the fleece blanket.

Her palm rested flat against the blanket, unmoving, her small face a mask of concentration.

"Eleanor?" Aurora said softly, noticing her daughter’s action.

Eleanor lifted her dark eyes to her mother, her voice soft yet clear enough for everyone to hear. "Inside Father’s body, there are several different colored lights running wild. The gold and silver ones are very bright, but they’re cold. And there’s a dusty-gray light that’s making them even colder. I was wondering... could I make them be a little quieter? Or... could I give some of my color to Father? My color is warm."

Kaiden, Annie, and Alina listened with looks of utter confusion.

Aurora shook her head and spoke gently to Eleanor. "Eleanor, it’s incredible that you can see that. But right now, Father needs to guide those lights on his own and make them obey him. Your color is very warm, but if you give it to him now, it might make those wild lights even more chaotic. Just being here with him, letting him feel your presence, is the greatest help you can give him. Do you understand?"

Eleanor blinked her dark eyes, seeming to process the meaning behind her mother’s words.

After a moment, she nodded gently and withdrew the hand from her father’s leg, but she did not leave his side.

She fetched a small stool and sat down beside the foot of the lounge chair, placing her little hands neatly on her knees. With her small face tilted up, she watched Murphy without blinking.

Quiet returned to the space beneath the trellis, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

Murphy’s eyes were closed, but his consciousness was keenly aware of his surroundings.

’Eleanor’s talent truly was astonishing. The "lights" she "saw" were precisely the Exotic Energy formed from the three Spiritual Materials he had just begun to refine within his body: gold, silver, and lead.’