Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

The lady's voice soared, carrying a haunting melody that wrapped the crowd in wonder.

As the final note faded into the night, a wave of applause followed, hearty and genuine.

People clapped and cheered, enchanted by her captivating performance.

But while the crowd celebrated, Ivaim's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

His brow furrowed as he glanced at Nathan, who stood silent, his expression unreadable.

Nathan's gaze met Ivaim's, and though neither spoke, the subtle exchange between them was clear... both were thinking the same thing.

'A curse born from cruelty, passed down through those strong enough to bear it... only a child of true admiration can carry its weight.'

The cryptic words echoed in Ivaim's mind, aligning uncomfortably with the song's sorrowful verses.

'If this song connects to what's happening now... it feels like I could relate it to Grandma Neli and her son's tragedy...'

A chill crept down his spine.

'Could it be that the reason that man spared Neli and her child... was because he wanted to pass on the Curse?'

The thought lodged itself in Ivaim's chest, heavy and unsettling.

And despite the cheerful applause surrounding him, a grim unease hung in the back of his mind.

As the little intermission was finally over, the announcer had finally begun the second round of the fights.

...

The announcer's voice boomed across the arena, cutting through the rising cheers.
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"And now—the first match of the second round begins!"

The crowd roared, eager for the clash.

"On my left, we have the Underdog who defied all odds—Ivaim!"

Some cheered, others laughed, clearly doubtful he could survive this fight.

"And on my right—the unyielding force of steel and wrath, feared by many—The Iron Wraith, Veta!"

The crowd cheered as Veta stepped foot into the arena.

The arena was silent, the tension thick enough to cut through.

Ivaim and Veta stood across from each other, silently judging the environment.

Veta shifted into her iron form, the clang of metal echoing through the air as she braced herself.

Her cold, calculating eyes met Ivaim's, but he didn't seem fazed.

Instead, he casually spun a coin between his fingers, his focus sharp and unwavering.

"I'll make this quick." He called out, his voice a mockingly casual drawl.

"Don't want to keep the crowd waiting."

Without warning, Veta lunged, her iron fist coming down with crushing force.

But Ivaim wasn't there... He was already a step ahead.

His body flickering in the air as he activated [Lucky Leap], landing just behind her in the blink of an eye.

Veta's fist struck the ground, sending a tremor through the arena, but Ivaim was already ready.

He tossed the coin into the air, his eyes glinting with the power of [Coin of Fortune] coursing through him.

The moment the coin made contact with Veta's back, there was a sudden pulse of energy, one that was sharp and unexpected.

Veta's massive iron frame wavered for a fraction of a second, the sudden shock weakening her defenses just enough.

Ivaim took advantage of the opening, his body flowing with agility as he slipped past her guard.

With quick precision, he grabbed her wrist and twisted, using her own momentum to send her off balance.

Veta swung a retaliatory punch, but Ivaim ducked under it, spinning with ease, his feet barely touching the ground.

Ivaim dropped low, sweeping her legs from under her with one fluid motion.

The iron lady crashed to the stone floor with a deafening thud, her weight causing a cloud of dust to rise.

Veta struggled, her form heavy and unyielding as she pushed herself up, but Ivaim didn't wait.

He stood above her, his grin widening.

Just as Ivaim lunged forward to finish the fight, Veta's form shimmered.

Her body began to dissolve, her iron shell turning to mist as she shifted into her wraith form.

Ivaim's baton swung through the air where she had been, missing her by a fraction.

He quickly adjusted his stance as Veta's ethereal form hovered above him, her voice now a hollow, mocking tone.

"You're too slow."

She taunted, swirling around him like smoke.

Ivaim's grin faltered for a moment, but he regained his composure.

He wasn't about to let her escape.

Instead, he shifted his focus and used the one ability that could change the course of the fight in an instant.

He whispered softly under his breath, his words laced with the power as he activated [Whisper].

"Stay in your iron form. You're stronger that way."

The words, subtle yet piercing, slipped into Veta's consciousness.

A flicker of hesitation passed through her wraith-like form, a brief pause in her movement.

The ethereal mist around her wavered, and then, to Ivaim's satisfaction, her body solidified back into iron.

Without missing a beat, Ivaim swung his baton with precision, the cold metal flashing in the air.

His strike landed squarely against the side of Veta's head with a sickening crack, the weight of the baton sending a shockwave through the arena.

Veta stumbled, her iron form crashing to the ground with a deafening thud.

The crowd gasped, the force of the blow sending dust and debris into the air.

Ivaim stood tall above her, his grip tight around the baton. His smirk returned as he looked down at her unmoving form.

"Told you I'd make it quick."

He remarked, his voice laced with the same mocking confidence.

'Man... that was a lot easier then fighting Eris... the intelligence department was right, I guess only Nathan and Eris really were the real threats.'

He silently thought.

The announcer's voice rang out, filled with excitement.

"And the winner—Ivaim!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, their shock replaced with awe at the Underdog's stunning victory over the Iron Wraith.

...

Ivaim walked calmly back through the arena, his iron baton slung over his shoulder as the crowd's cheers echoed behind him.

The fight had ended faster than most had anticipated.

He didn't let the victory swell his chest too much as this was just a Fractured Reality.

He slipped quietly into the champion's lounge, the door clicking shut behind him.

The room was dim, lit only by a few scattered lanterns that gave the space an eerie, almost foreboding atmosphere.

Ivaim's eyes scanned the room, his steps silent as ever.

There, waiting near the far corner, were two figures. Nathan stood, his posture rigid, eyes sharp and calculating, as always.

But it was the other figure that caught Ivaim's attention.

A woman wrapped in a flowing black veil, her presence commanding and mysterious.

The Black Veil Master.