Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Nathan stood amidst the swirling chaos, the aura of misfortune thickening with every second.

The battlefield was a mess of jagged cracks and shifting winds, unpredictable and dangerous.

The perfect playground for Ivaim.

Out of nowhere, Ivaim's voice rang out loud and clear, cutting through the arena as he sent a [Whisper] towards Nathan.

"You always this stiff in a fight, or is it just for me?"

Nathan remained silent, calculating, waiting for the misfortune to weaken.

"Oh, I get it."

Ivaim continued.

"You're waiting for the chaos to clear up. Neat little plan. Problem is—"

His voice dropped cold.

"Are you really that patient?"

Nathan clenched his jaw but didn't move.

When he heard those words, he suddenly had the urge to just attack without thinking...

As though he was that impatient.

The whispering voice chuckled.

"Wow, you don't even flinch, huh? Always so composed. That must be boring as hell for your kid."

Still nothing from Nathan.

"You know what makes you so predictable?"

Ivaim pressed on, his tone teasing yet sharp.

"You need control. Can't stand it when things get messy, can you? It eats at you..."

"I bet you make lists for everything... combat strategies, shopping trips, maybe even bedtime stories for Reves—"

Nathan's breath hitched, just barely.

Ivaim noticed.

"Oh? Did I strike a nerve there? Reves, huh? You're not scared of losing this fight, are you?"

His voice grew deeper, voice dropping.

"You're scared of losing him..."

Nathan's calm shattered like glass.

With a sudden surge of fury, he thrust his spear forward, not toward Ivaim, but into the swirling void of chaos, an instinctive, reckless strike born of raw emotion.

The spear cut through the wind with a ferocious whistle, clanging hard into a broken chunk of the arena floor.

Ivaim raised a brow, genuinely surprised for a moment.

"Whoa... finally got you moving."

His voice widened devilishly.

"Man, that hit home, didn't it?"

Nathan inhaled deeply, forcing himself back into control.

His expression hardened, cold as steel once more.

"You talk too much."

Nathan said flatly, his voice razor-sharp.

"And you care too much."

Ivaim shot back without missing a beat, spinning the wooden club in his hand.

A grin tugged at his lips.

"But hey... that's what makes this fun—"

Before he could finish, a spear sliced through the air toward him.

Bang!

Ivaim barely dodged, the spear slamming into the ground beside him.

He let out a breath of relief...

His [Coin of Fortune] had kicked in just in time, guiding the attack slightly off course.

"Found you..."

Nathan muttered under his breath.

Ivaim's eyes narrowed.

'Shit... How did he track me so fast?'

Then it clicked—his foot had grazed something metallic hidden in the rubble.

Nathan had been controlling it all along.

'Smart bastard...'

Without wasting time, Ivaim sprinted sideways, zigzagging to avoid the storm of spears now honing in on him.

The air hissed with the sharp whistle of metal slicing through wind.

One spear descended straight from above.

Ivaim launched himself into a desperate [Lucky Leap], twisting absurdly mid-air as the spear missed by a hair's breadth.

He hit the ground rolling—but Nathan was relentless.

More spears chased after him like guided missiles.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The spears crashed into the arena floor, none finding their mark.

But then Ivaim froze—his foot wouldn't budge.

He looked down to see metallic scraps twisting around his boot, binding him like a steel snare.

'Damn it!'

Nathan had trapped him.

Thinking fast, Ivaim activated [Whisper].

His voice rang directly in Nathan's ear, firm and commanding:

"Redirect the spear."

Nathan's hand faltered for a split second, his control slipping.

The incoming spear veered off course, missing Ivaim by inches.

That was all the opening Ivaim needed.

He tore free from the metallic grip, leaping backward with wild, reckless energy.

As he soared through the air, he flicked a glowing coin toward Nathan—dark energy swirling around it like smoke.

Nathan's eyes narrowed. With a precise gesture, he forced the coin to crash into the ground.

Ivaim grinned slyly he sent another [Whisper].

"Bring the coin to you."

Nathan's expression hardened as his body tensed against the suggestion.

But for just a moment, his will faltered— his hand instinctively jerked upward, yanking the coin toward him with [Metallic Manipulation].

Realizing the mistake, he immediately forced his other hand to bat it away again.

But it was too late.

During the hesitation, Ivaim had already flicked another [Coin of Fortune].

Silent and undetected, it sailed through the air and struck Nathan's chestplate with a metallic sound.

Clang!

Nathan's eyes widened in shock as the effects took hold.

His mind clouded, a strange fog dulling his senses.

The metal on his upper armor groaned and cracked, breaking apart in chunks and falling to the ground.

Nathan stumbled but recovered swiftly, his sharp gaze hardening into a fierce glint.

He twisted the fallen shards of his broken armor into jagged, spear-like projectiles, each glimmering with deadly precision.

Just as he prepared to launch them, a familiar, grating voice crept into his mind like a splinter beneath skin.

It was another [Whisper].

"Reves would be really disappointed if you hurt me."

The words hit Nathan harder than any spear.

His hand faltered, his grip loosening as his emotions flickered beneath the surface.

Ivaim wasted no time.

Grabbing one of the fallen metallic spears, he hurled it directly at Nathan's exposed chest.

"Let it hit you."

Ivaim commanded, his voice sharp through another attempt at [Whisper].

But Nathan's resolve held firm this time.

His jaw clenched as he regained control, twisting the spear mid-air and flinging it back toward its original thrower.

Ivaim's eyes widened.

'Shit!'

With no choice, he triggered [Lucky Leap] once more, narrowly dodging the relentless, honing spear.

He landed roughly, panting hard, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

'Dammit...'

Ivaim thought bitterly.

'Guess I can't just spout random crap. If it's not emotionally triggering, [Whisper] won't do much...'

His frustration barely had time to settle before Nathan raised both arms, summoning a tidal wave of crushed metal shards.

They compacted midair into boulder-like masses, large enough to obliterate anyone in their path.

'Seriously?! This guy is definitely too overpowered!'

Ivaim grunted, instinctively bracing himself.

He tried to leap again—but his body froze.
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The familiar rush of energy that accompanied [Lucky Leap] never came.

Nothing.

Cold realization washed over him. His body refused to respond.

'Shit... I'm at my limit.'

Breath ragged, Ivaim's mind raced.

He couldn't keep dodging forever, not without any luck left to burn.

'Think. If I can just get close enough—'

His eyes flicked to the wooden bat still clutched in his hand.

He formulated a desperate plan: rush Nathan, close the distance, and knock him out before the metal barrage resumed.

He sprinted forward, weaving through shards of metal still littering the battlefield.

Spears zipped past him, missing by mere inches. His pulse thundered in his ears.

Closer. Closer.

'I can make it—'

A boulder, unseen until it was too late, descended from above with crushing force.

Ivaim's eyes widened as he tried to sidestep, but his exhausted body betrayed him.

The boulder smashed into his side, hurling him backward.

The bat flew from his grasp as he crashed into the ground, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

He lay there, dazed, blinking against the spinning world.

For a moment, silence reigned.

And then a bitter realization settled in Ivaim's mind.

For the first time, his luck had finally run out.