Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

After being compensated by Harvin for today's ordeal, a rare flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. Harvin's generosity had been quite abundant.

The words from Harvin and Nathan's conversation replayed in his thoughts, sharp and unrelenting.

'Reves is one of the key factors to the Ten Throne Holders' demise.'

The weight of the statement pressed down on him, and Ivaim frowned, his fingers drumming on the armrest of the altar in his Temple.

'If that's true,' he mused, 'then somehow, I'm tied to this... Reves' source of power comes from me after all.'

The realization made his chest tighten. He clenched his fists, fighting back the uneasy surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

'Yes, that's right,' he thought bitterly. 'The prophecy can also be twisted to mean this—Reves is a clue to their downfall, but the true suspect could very well be me.'

He scoffed aloud, the sound bitter and self-deprecating.

"Arrogant much?" he muttered to himself.

Shaking his head, he pushed back against the flood of thoughts, but they kept returning like an unrelenting tide. His lips curled into a grim smile.

'Barely managing to hold my ground against an ordinary Orthodox Reality Master... and now I'm supposed to be at the heart of some grand prophecy? A harbinger of their demise? What a joke.'

...

The Timori Campsite was unusually quiet. The scattered tents and dimly glowing lanterns painted the surroundings in warm hues, their soft light barely holding back the darkness that crept between the trees. A gentle breeze rustled the branches, carrying the faint scent of pine and smoke.

Williams sat on a low wooden stool near the campfire, prodding at the embers with a stick. The flames danced in his dark eyes, their movements reflected in his calm, calculating gaze.

He moved deliberately, as if the act of tending the fire gave him control over the night itself.

Nolan sprawled on a blanket a few feet away, his arms folded lazily behind his head as he stared up at the starless expanse above.

"Timori's too quiet this time of year," he said, breaking the stillness.

Williams didn't look up. "You mean when there aren't drunken mercenaries brawling in the streets or merchants out-shouting each other over rusted trinkets?"

"Exactly." Nolan smirked, shifting to his side and resting his cheek on his palm. "At least then, there's some energy. This... this feels dead."

"Dead is good," Williams replied evenly. "Means no one's watching."

Nolan snorted.

"Sure, but it's boring." He paused, his tone shifting slightly. "By the way, are you absolutely sure this plan will work? Did you really manage to get the Minotaur of Chivalry on our side?"

Williams finally glanced up, his lips curling into a smile that gave him an air of innocence. It was a stark contrast to the sharp mind behind those dimples.

"Of course. She wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this."

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "You're basing this on what? A hunch?"

"Not quite." Williams leaned back, holding up a small button between his fingers. Its surface shimmered faintly in the firelight, as though it contained an entire universe within.@@novelbin@@

"Do you remember the last time we visited her temple with 'Justine'?"

Nolan frowned, trying to recall. "Yeah, she looked in our direction a couple of times. I figured it was coincidence. You're saying it wasn't?"

Williams tapped the button lightly, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"At the time, I thought the same. But I should've realized it was something else. She wasn't looking at us—she was sensing him. Another Reality Master."

Nolan propped himself up on his elbow, his curiosity piqued.

"And you're sure about that now?"

"I saw it," Williams said simply, holding up the button as if it were a trophy.

"Through this, I caught a glimpse of a scene. The Minotaur of Chivalry, relentlessly attacking 'Justine.' She wasn't just fighting him—she was hunting him. She wants his essence as much as we do."

Nolan whistled low, impressed. "Okay, but let's say she gets him. What happens to us? What's left for our trouble if she takes all his essence for herself?"

Williams smirked, leaning closer to the fire.

"She can hear you, y'know," he said with mock seriousness.

Nolan froze, glancing nervously at the shadows around them. "Wait, seriously?"

Williams laughed softly, shaking his head. "Relax. Not here, anyway."

He leaned back again, his voice turning confident. "Don't worry about our cut. I've secured an even better deal. We're not just giving her the information that 'Justine' is coming after me this Saturday. We're giving her an opportunity. In return, she gets his essence and..."

He paused for effect. "She turns us into her Walkers as payment."

Nolan sat up straight, his expression a mix of surprise and skepticism.

"Walkers? That's the deal? And you trust her to hold up her end of the bargain?"

Williams gave him a knowing look.

"She's the Minotaur of Chivalry, Nolan. The title isn't just for show. Chivalry means honor, and honor means she'll keep her word. It's who she is."

Nolan frowned, chewing over the words.

"Still feels risky. What if she changes her mind?"

"She won't," Williams said firmly. "She plays by a code. That's what makes her powerful—and predictable. As long as we play our part, she'll play hers."

Nolan exhaled slowly, lying back down. "You've got more faith in chivalry than I do."

"Faith has nothing to do with it," Williams replied.

Before Nolan could retort, a faint rustling sounded from the darkness to their right. Both men froze, their casual demeanor replaced with sharp alertness.

Williams reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, golden badge etched with intricate symbols. Without a word, he tossed it to the side, where it landed in the shadows with a faint clink.

It was the Threshold Item of the Minotaur of Chivalry. He tossed it to signal to the lady that their target was here.

'From what I've heard... he's a Reality Master who doesn't really have offensive traits. He's more of an escape artist.'

Williams allowed a small grin to spread across his face, confidence brimming as he imagined how their plan would unfold.

Suddenly, a faint metallic clink echoed from the bushes. The sound was soft but deliberate, sharp enough to break the stillness of the night.

Williams' eyes darted toward the source, his body going rigid with focus.

Out of the shadows, a coin flicked through the air in a perfect arc. Its polished surface caught the dim light as it spun, gleaming with an unnatural shine.

Instinct took over. Williams reached out, his fingers closing around the coin with practiced ease. He lifted it to eye level, examining it with mild curiosity.

"Hm? A coin?" he muttered under his breath.

The realization hit him like a cold blade. His eyes widened as he tried to toss the coin away, panic creeping into his movements.

"Wait—no. This is—"

The words died in his throat as the world around him began to distort.

The air thickened, an oppressive weight pressing against his chest. Colors bled and twisted unnaturally, saturating the once-familiar surroundings. The quiet serenity of the campsite dissolved, the tents and firelight warping into a chaotic swirl of fragmented shapes and shadows.

A glowing system notification blinked into existence before him, stark against the distorted backdrop:

[You have been forced into a Fractured Reality!]