Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Ivaim's lips twitched in a half-smile, though his eyes remained watchful.

"I see you two didn't waste any time."@@novelbin@@

The Black Veil Master didn't respond immediately.

Instead, she raised her head, her voice low but clear, carrying the weight of something much larger than the room.

"There isn't much time left before the end of the Fractured Reality."

The Black Veil Master said, her voice cutting through the silence.

Ivaim's brow furrowed. He stepped forward, his hand still loosely gripping his baton. Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

"How do you know that?"

The Black Veil Master stood still, the dim light casting shadows on her face as she spoke.

Her gaze met his with a quiet intensity, her words measured.

"When I first entered the Fractured Reality, I spawned in a village at the edge of Vallgorath."

She began, her voice calm but carrying weight.

"At first glance, it seemed like any other village. But I did discover something crucial after living there for awhile."

She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in.

"I found something important there, something that ties directly to the Fractured Reality's storyline."

She glanced at Nathan briefly before continuing.

"The song I sang earlier, the one the children listen to at night, it's not just a lullaby. It's a key."

Ivaim tilted his head, intrigued but silent.

Nathan, however, narrowed his eyes, his curiosity piqued.

"I originally planned to join the Arenas myself. I thought it would be the only way to gather information and possibly escape this place. But I knew both of you would likely do the same. So, I chose a different path."

She gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod in Ivaim's direction.

Ivaim's lips curled into a faint, approving smile. She was thinking ahead.

"I began asking around, searching for anything connected to the song. Eventually, I learned about a legend—the first Champion of Vallgorath."

She continued.

"When he was young, although very kind and loving... He was a weak, sickly boy, determined to enter the Arenas. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it. His body wasn't strong enough."

Ivaim's interest sharpened.

"What happened to him?"

The Black Veil Master's eyes grew colder as she spoke.

"He turned to the Gods, asking for strength. And they gave him strength in exchange for the kindness that the boy had done towards others."

"They called it a gift, but the people of Vallgorath knew it for what it truly was... a curse."

Ivaim remained silent, his mind working to piece things together.

"The curse gave him unmatched strength, but it twisted his mind. It turned his kindness into cruelty. He became a monster, doing things he never would have before."

She paused before continuing.

"And here's the worst part— those who carry the curse are trapped in their own minds."

"Their actions are twisted, but they can still feel the weight of their kindness inside. They remain good people, but they act as monsters."

Nathan clenched his fists, his face hardening.

"That sounds like something out of a nightmare."

The Black Veil Master nodded.

"It's worse than that. The Champion hated what he became. He grew sick of his own actions, the constant war between his heart and his actions."

"Eventually, he found a way to pass the curse on—to transfer it to someone else."

"The only condition? The person receiving it had to be pure and kind. They had to be someone who loved others, someone with a heart untainted by cruelty."

Ivaim exchanged a glance with Nathan, a quiet understanding passing between them.

The implications were far-reaching.

"So the curse still exists..."

Ivaim muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

The Black Veil Master's expression remained calm, unwavering.

"Yes. It has been passed down for generations. Its roots run deep in the land of Vallgorath. And now, it's unclear who else might be carrying it."

Ivaim fell into thought, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece things together. After a long pause, he spoke, his tone careful but firm.

"I might have an idea."

The Black Veil Master raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Oh?"

"I met an old woman once, her name is Grandma Neli."

Ivaim began, his voice growing more serious.

"Years ago, her entire family was slaughtered by a powerful man who sought to take her husband's throne in Vallgorath."

The Black Veil Master leaned in slightly, listening intently.

Ivaim continued, his eyes focused on the distant memory.

"The man spared Neli... and the child in her womb."

She studied him, her face unreadable.

"And why do you think that's important?"

"The man... he was cruel. He told Neli that he wanted her son to grow strong, stronger than anyone, so that he could seek revenge against him."

Ivaim's voice hardened, as if the cruelty of the man still stung.

"He wanted the boy to carry that hatred, to rise up against him one day."

The Black Veil Master's eyes narrowed as she processed this.

"Hmm. I see... But that sounds more like manipulation. That man, likely possessing the curse himself, would have been trying to pass it on to the boy. A lie, disguised as a desire for revenge."

Ivaim nodded slowly, his expression darkening.

"Exactly. The man knew the boy's bloodline had to be pure, kind... someone with the capacity for love and selflessness. That's what made him an ideal candidate for the curse."

The Black Veil Master's eyes narrowed as she processed his words.

"A child with a deep love for his family."

She added, her voice low but cutting.

"A child who would seek power—not out of selfishness, but out of love for his own family..."

"Those are the exact conditions the curse requires to pass on..."

The Black Veil Master let the words linger in the air, the weight of their implications settling between them.

She paused, then continued, her voice colder now, filled with a deeper understanding.

"But if that's true, then that means we can confirm one thing..."

Ivaim's brow furrowed as the pieces began to fit together.

"If the curse can be passed on, then that means only one thing. The Master of Cruelty we know isn't the man trying to pass the curse to the boy."

"That wouldn't make sense. After all, if the Master of Cruelty had already been born, then there wouldn't be any reason for this to happen."

The Black Veil Master's gaze sharpened as Ivaim's words took shape. Her mind was racing, unraveling the truth.

"Exactly. If the Master of Cruelty were already in existence, then the Fractured Reality's story should've played out differently."

Ivaim's eyes narrowed, his voice steady but heavy with realization.

"It means... in this Fractured Reality... the Master of Cruelty we know hasn't been born yet."