Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Williams hesitated, the silence stretching just enough to let the tension settle between them. His eyes darted briefly toward the hooded figure, taking in the shadowy figure's stillness.

Finally, he exhaled, breaking the stillness.@@novelbin@@

"Two things," Williams began, his voice steady but laced with caution. "First, I want the freedom to act as I see fit. No strings pulling me like a puppet."

He paused, his gaze sharpening. "And second, I want you to make Nolan your Walker too."

The hooded figure tilted his head, the faint outline of a smirk barely visible beneath the darkness of his hood. His voice, smooth and unhurried, resonated through the air like a low hum.

"Freedom is a luxury, Williams. It comes with its price. But I can grant you that—as long as you don't sully my name. Instead, you will bring glory to it. That is non-negotiable."

Williams nodded slightly, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fair enough. A name's only as good as the one who carries it, right? I can work with that."

The hooded figure chuckled softly, the sound both amused and cryptic.

"You're sharp. I like that about you. As for Nolan… that's an interesting request. Why him?"

Williams crossed his arms, his stance firm.

"Because he's got potential. More than he realizes. And frankly, I don't trust anyone else to watch my back."

There was a pause, the hooded figure seeming to weigh the words. After a moment, he nodded.

"Very well. Nolan shall be blessed as well. But know this, Williams—potential can either shine or shatter. His path will be his to shape, not yours."

Williams raised an eyebrow. "Fair enough. I'm not looking to hold his hand. Just make sure he gets the chance."

The hooded figure stepped closer, the faint glow of his eyes visible now beneath the hood's shadows. His voice dipped into something almost ceremonial.

"Then… shall I consider this a deal?"

Before Williams could answer, a system notification materialized before his eyes, its presence pulsing with a soft golden glow:

[Would you like to become a Reality Walker under the Spirit with Good Luck?]

...

After stepping out of the Fractured Reality, Williams squinted at the shifting environment of the real world. His chestnut-haired friend, Nolan, stood just a few feet away, his expression a mix of relief and urgency.

But it wasn't Nolan who drew Williams' immediate attention.

Behind him stood a striking figure—a woman clad in an outfit dominated by vibrant shades of red, her short double-ponytails streaked with crimson like trails of fire. Her presence radiated authority and danger, a sharp contrast to her youthful appearance.

The Minotaur of Chivalry.

Her piercing gaze locked onto Williams, recognition flashing in her scarlet eyes. For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause.

"You—" she began, her voice sharp and edged with both surprise and accusation.

But Williams didn't wait to hear the rest. His hand darted into his pocket, fingers curling around a small metallic sphere. In a single, fluid motion, he hurled it toward her.

The woman reacted instantly, her reflexes honed by countless battles. She raised her arms, her gauntleted hands catching the projectile with practiced precision.

The sphere detonated on impact, releasing a dense stream of pale gray gas. The cloud spread rapidly, shrouding her vision in a suffocating haze.

Her eyes narrowed as she wasted no time, slamming her palm against the ground. A burst of fiery red flames erupted in a controlled wave, devouring the smoke in seconds. The air shimmered with residual heat as the gas dissipated.

But when her gaze snapped back to where they had been, both Williams and Nolan were gone.

She clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as the faint sound of footsteps faded in the distance.

...

After finally gaining another Walker, Ivaim allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. Leaning back against the rough altar he had behind him, he let out a soft sigh, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

'Williams... quite a mischievous one,' Ivaim thought, his eyes glinting with worry.

'He's unpredictable, but self-reliant. However, that's exactly what makes him valuable.'

His mind wandered back to the ambush. The image of the crimson-haired Minotaur flashed vividly before him.

'I still can't believe he managed to sway that Minotaur woman to his side just to ambush me. The sheer audacity… and intelligence.' He shook his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips.

'Clever bastard. I might just enjoy working with him.'

His smile faded slightly as his thoughts shifted.

'And let's be honest, he's probably the most reliable Walker I'll have for the foreseeable future.'

His mind painted a mental tally of his other Walkers. Kalisto's face came to mind first—a figure brimming with raw power and reckless determination.

'Kalisto's strong, no doubt. But impulsive. He charges in, fists first, without a second thought. Muscles over strategy every time.'

Ivaim sighed. 'He'll break a wall, sure, but what about when the wall's a trap?'

Then there was Reves, the youngest of them all. The boy's face flickered in his thoughts, bright and full of potential, yet overshadowed by the ominous weight of his destiny.

'Reves…' Ivaim's expression darkened slightly.

'A twelve-year-old tangled in a grand prophecy. Prophecies are bad news—they're like a death warrant wrapped in flowery words. Even being near him feels like walking a tightrope over an abyss. If I'm not careful, I might just end up dead silently in some forgotten corner of this world...'

He pushed the troubling thought aside and focused back on Williams.

'True, I didn't get that future-seeing button of his. But that's fine. He's my Walker now. Soon enough, he'll see just how much he needs me. After all, if I die, he won't be able to get stronger.' Ivaim allowed himself a confident grin.

But there was another issue to consider.

'That Minotaur woman…' His smile faded, replaced by a contemplative frown.

'It's strange. She's a Reality Master, recognized as an orthodox one too. With her current stannding, she should have plenty of Walkers under her command.'

He tapped his fingers against the bark, his thoughts racing.

'And yet, she never deploys them against me. Why? Is it some sort of twisted honor code? She's called the Minotaur of Chivalry, after all. Maybe she insists on fighting her enemies herself...'

'Quite odd...'