Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Nathan's eyes narrowed sharply, his focus locking onto Harvin and the Metallic Totem. His hands rose slowly, the air thickening with the weight of his intent.

The metallic walls around them seemed to hum in response, as if preparing for something catastrophic.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harvin didn't move to defend himself.

Instead, with a swift motion, he tossed the Metallic Totem high into the air. It spiraled upwards, catching the light for a brief moment, before the first wave of metallic spears shot toward it with terrifying speed.

Every single one struck its target, embedding themselves deep into the totem's surface.

The totem's metal surface groaned under the impact, but it held firm. In the midst of the chaos, Harvin's foot came down hard against the floor.

The sound of metal shifting beneath his weight was deafening as several compartments in the ground began to twist and shift, revealing a gaping hole that seemed to descend into an endless void.

The totem, now deeply scarred by the spears, fell through the opening, disappearing into the dark abyss below.

As the hole sealed itself once more with a grinding of metal, Harvin's expression remained unreadable. He took a long breath, his gaze never leaving Nathan.

His hands clasped together in a gesture of finality, the air around him feeling charged with anticipation.

Then, with a practiced ease, Harvin reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a copper watch, its intricate design gleaming in the dim light.

Without a word, he tossed it toward Nathan, the small object spinning through the air with deadly accuracy.

Nathan caught the watch, his fingers brushing the cool metal as he held it for a brief moment, his eyes scanning it with a sense of quiet understanding.

"Go, quick," Harvin said, his voice sharp, urging him to leave.

Nathan hesitated, his gaze lingering on Harvin for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then, with a single nod, he turned on his heel and moved quickly toward the exit.

The tension in the room remained thick, but his steps were deliberate and calm as he disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Harvin alone in the aftermath of their tense standoff.

Harvin stood motionless for a moment, his eyes following Nathan's retreating form. The air in the room was thick with silence, broken only by the faint hum of the machines, still shifting in the aftermath of their violent display.

Harvin's gaze softened, a tinge of something unreadable flashing across his face. Every movement he made was deliberate, as if he were trying to stave off the weight of the moment.

His eyes flicked towards the now-sealed hole where the totem had disappeared into the earth. It had been swallowed by the depths, lost for now, but Harvin knew it was far from over.@@novelbin@@

The real test was yet to come.

Ivaim, still breathing heavily from the chaos, blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing as he looked towards Harvin.

"Wait, you just gave him the artifact?" His voice was edged with disbelief. "I thought you said he wasn't supposed to have it..."

Harvin turned slowly, meeting Ivaim's gaze with a tired but knowing expression. He exhaled sharply, the frustration and fatigue of the situation creeping into his voice.

"I told you to go back up, kid. This really isn't your business."

Ivaim didn't back down, his confusion giving way to a sharper edge.

"You looked like you were about to be killed down here..."

Harvin's lips twitched upward in a grim smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We were faking it."

Ivaim's brow furrowed further, clearly not understanding.

"Faking it?" he repeated, his tone skeptical. "What do you mean?"

Harvin sighed, his expression weary.

"Dodging all those spears—don't act like you didn't notice. You're not ignorant of what Reality Masters are, or what they can do." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if appraising Ivaim in that moment.

Ivaim didn't respond immediately. Instead, he shifted his stance, his voice quieter now.

"That metallic totem underground... that was a Threshold Item, wasn't it?"

Harvin didn't flinch, his gaze never leaving Ivaim's face.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice steady. "Our Master was listening in on our conversation, so we had to fake a fight to fool him. Our Master doesn't want me to give him the artifact."

Ivaim's eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on him.

"So... you're betraying your Master for him?"

Harvin's face darkened slightly, but he remained composed.

"Could be," he said, his voice low but resolute.

"However, I'm still loyal to him. He's a good Master. He saved me from a life that was worse than death." There was an unspoken weight in his words, a silent acknowledgment of the past that lingered between them.

He looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"But Nathan... he's a good man too, Ivaim." His voice softened, an uncharacteristic sincerity in the words.

"He doesn't deserve to be caught in the middle of this. No one does."

Ivaim stood in silence, staring at Harvin, his mind a whirlpool of confusion and reluctant understanding. The situation was far more tangled than he'd ever anticipated.

Harvin was no longer just a gruff ally—there were layers to him, things that Ivaim couldn't quite wrap his head around.

"I understand," Ivaim said, his voice quiet but firm, trying to close the conversation. He knew better than to push further.

This wasn't his battle, after all.

Harvin didn't seem to notice Ivaim's inner conflict as he waved a hand dismissively.

"Go upstairs, there's a blue liquid in the seventh drawer that'll heal your wound quite quickly. After that, go finish your job," Harvin said with an almost bored tone.

"The store's not going to close just because of this."

Ivaim's lips twitched upward, a hint of dry humor flashing across his face.

"I almost got killed in your fake fight. Don't I deserve at least a minute to catch my breath?"

Harvin shot him a side-eye, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"You weren't gonna die, fool. Nathan can shift the spear's trajectory in less than a microsecond. You were never in any real danger."

Ivaim's lips twitched.

'I deserve to get paid more...'