Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

"Wooh! Uncle is the best!!"

Reves cheered loudly, his voice cutting through the crowd as he watched Ivaim knock his opponent flat on the arena floor.

Nathan stood beside him, silent and unmoving, his sharp eyes fixed on the arena.

"Hm." Nathan's low hum was barely audible, but Reves heard it.

He flinched, suddenly realizing his enthusiasm might not have been the wisest move.

"Uh—I mean, second best!"

Reves stammered quickly, forcing a stiff smile.

"You're obviously number one, Father!"

Nathan didn't respond, offering only a brief, indifferent glance before shifting his attention back to the arena.

The dust was still settling around Ivaim as he stood tall in the center, grinning like he had won a world championship rather than a simple first round.

Nathan's thoughts churned as he watched.

'That abnormal luck again... The rumors really weren't wrong.'

He recalled their last encounter underground, back in Harvin's workshop.

'I only meant to partially injure him and knock him out quickly. Yet he dodged every single spear I threw at him.'

It hadn't made sense then. It made even less sense now.

'Did he grow stronger? Collapse an entire arena just by luck? No... that wasn't just luck. That was misfortune that he seemed to be controlling... He didn't have that before.'

Nathan's brow furrowed slightly.

'Did his Reality Master upgrade his rank knowing he was in danger? That would explain a lot.'

A Reality Master who controlled fortune was rare... and dangerous.

'More dangerous than most realize.' Nathan mused grimly.

His gaze flicked toward Eris, the defeated opponent sprawled on the ground.

'Eris isn't the type to lose his cool. Careful, discreet... methodical. Always calculating.'

And yet, during the fight, Eris had been reckless, attacking wildly as if blinded by rage.

'Was it true then?' Nathan wondered.

'That foul mouth of his... does it really mess with your mind? Force mistakes?'

The announcer's booming voice snapped Nathan from his thoughts.

"And the winner is... Ivaim, the Underdog!!"

The crowd roared, their cheers swelling like a tidal wave.

Reves clapped eagerly. "See, Father? He's not so bad, huh?"

Nathan remained quiet, his stoic expression unchanged.

'Not bad at all.' He admitted silently.

'But far more troublesome than anyone realizes.'

...

Kalisto sipped his morning coffee, rubbing his temple as frustration simmered inside him.

"I'm telling you, Estelle, I'm not gambling."

He insisted, voice firm but weary.

Estelle, standing with her arms crossed near the kitchen table, didn't look convinced.

"That's funny, Dad, because Lisa said she saw you near The Lucky Ace just last week. You know, the place where everyone knows illegal betting goes on?"

Kalisto groaned, leaning back in his chair.

"That's not what it looks like. I was there for a police investigation. They asked me to do some preliminary work, alright? It's not like I'm throwing money at dice or something."

"Seriously?"

Estelle raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"And you think that sounds better than gambling?" She added.

"Dad, that's even worse! What happened to the whole 'I'm done with dangerous stuff' speech? You said that after Mom..."@@novelbin@@

Her voice wavered for a second, but she pressed on.

"Didn't you promise me you'd stick to normal jobs? Like helping with construction?"

Kalisto ran a hand down his face, guilt creeping into his chest.

"Estelle, it's not dangerous. I'm just gathering information. Observing."

"Oh, observing, right." She said with sharp sarcasm.

"And what happens when observing turns into 'Oops, someone pulled a gun' or 'Oops, they found out I was spying'? What then?"

Kalisto shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Then why not just stick to safe work? You were doing fine before... WE were doing fine!"

Estelle said quietly.

"We already lost Mom. Do you want me worrying that you're not coming home too?"

The weight of her words hit hard, sinking into the spaces Kalisto tried to protect.

"I know." He admitted softly. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

Estelle sighed, dropping her tough stance as she pulled out a chair to sit across from him.

"Look, Dad... I just want us to be okay. I want you to be here."

Kalisto opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. The weight of Estelle's plea lingered between them.

Kalisto nodded, the guilt now pressing heavily against his chest.

"I'll think about it..."

She pushed back her chair abruptly, the legs scraping against the floor with a harsh screech.

"You always say you'll think about it!" She said bitterly, shaking her head.

"But you never actually do."

Grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair, Estelle muttered under her breath.

"I can't keep having this conversation with you."

Without waiting for a response, she stomped toward the front door, her steps quick and heavy.

The screen door creaked as she yanked it open. A sharp gust of morning air swept into the room as she paused briefly on the threshold.

"Don't expect me to pretend it's okay when it's not."

She said flatly, not even turning back.

The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing through the house, leaving Kalisto alone in the uneasy silence.

...

Estelle walked briskly down the familiar cobblestone path, her breath puffing into the cool morning air. Her fists were clenched tightly by her sides, frustration simmering in every step.

'Why does he never listen?' She thought bitterly.

"I'll think about it"—yeah, right.'

Her feet carried her instinctively toward the quaint coffee shop she often visited to clear her head.

The aroma of fresh brews and the gentle hum of conversations usually did wonders to soothe her nerves.

But just as she turned onto the main street, something unusual caught her eye.

A stall—small, shabby, and draped in faded purple cloth—stood awkwardly by the side of the road.

It looked entirely out of place among the usual vendors selling fresh produce and baked goods. On the front, a crooked wooden sign read in bold, hand-painted letters:

"Fortunes Revealed — Seek What You Hide."

Estelle slowed her steps, curiosity prickling through her frustration.

The stall was adorned with hanging beads that clinked faintly in the breeze.

A dim lamp flickered under the shade, casting shifting shadows over mysterious trinkets spread across a worn table.

She hesitated.

'Seriously? A fortune-telling stall?'

It was strange enough to pique her interest.

With a cautious glance around the street, Estelle took a slow step closer.

Her anger toward her father simmered in the background, momentarily overshadowed by the oddity in front of her.

She raised an eyebrow.

'Weird...'

Under the canopy, instead of some mysterious figure in veils and layers, there sat a strikingly beautiful woman.

Her smooth, flawless skin gleamed under the soft light of a flickering lamp.

She had vibrant, crimson lips, and a strange pattern of swirling symbols painted across her high cheekbones in shimmering gold.

Her long dark hair fell like silk over one shoulder, framing her enchanting face.

What stood out most, though, was her makeup.

Bold, eccentric, and oddly mesmerizing, as if it belonged to someone stepping out of a dream rather than a quiet street.

The woman noticed Estelle's approach and tilted her head, offering a smile that was both warm and unsettling.

Her eyes sparkled like they held secrets no one else knew.

Estelle crossed her arms, biting back a skeptical scoff.

'The makeup is a bit odd, but she's really pretty...'

Still, the oddness of it all pulled her closer.

"Ah, curious, aren't we?"

The woman spoke, her voice smooth yet playful.

"Come closer, dear. The cards are ready to listen."

Estelle hesitated, glancing back toward the street. But something about the woman's gaze was magnetic.

Against her better judgment, she stepped toward the table, curiosity nudging her forward.

The woman tapped her long, painted nails rhythmically against the table, humming a strange, almost hypnotic tune.

Without breaking eye contact, she flipped one of the cards in front of her with a smooth flick of her wrist.

It was illustrated with intricate designs: a figure standing between two towering pillars, holding a key in one hand and a set of scales in the other.

At the bottom, bold lettering read

"The Hierophant."

"Ah." The woman mused with a knowing smile,

"The Hierophant. A symbol of authority, tradition... and stubborn fathers." Her gaze sharpened mischievously.

"I'm guessing you're having family problems, hmm?"

Estelle blinked, caught off guard.

"How did you..."

The woman tapped the card lightly.

"According to the cards, it seems to be related to your father. Perhaps a broken promise... a disagreement that's left you frustrated?"

Estelle's skepticism faltered, replaced by bewilderment.

"How did you know that?"

The woman leaned forward slightly, her crimson lips curling into a cryptic smile.

"Fortunes don't lie, my dear. They only reveal what you already carry inside."

She said smoothly.

With practiced elegance, she flicked her wrist and revealed another card.

"The Wheel of Fortune."

The image depicted a great wheel turning endlessly, with figures clinging to its edges — some rising, others falling. The intricate gold patterns shimmered faintly under the dim light.

She chuckled. Find your next read at My Virtual Library Empire

"It seems a little rat who controls fortune has been messing with your family."