Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

He frowned, piecing together the eerie quiet and foreboding energy hanging in the air.

"Do you think it's part of a ritual? Like... something prepared to hand over the curse?"

Nathan's gaze was hard and calculating as he nodded.

"Most likely. They might've cleared out the place to make sure no one interrupts the ceremony."

Ivaim replied worriedly.

"Damn it... if they've already started, we're screwed."

"We're not screwed."

Nathan said firmly, gripping his spear.

"Not yet. But we need to move—now."

The Black Veil Master's voice was calm, though edged with warning.

"Rushing in blindly is reckless. Whatever presence I'm sensing inside... it's powerful. Desperate movements could trigger traps or provoke dangerous forces."

Nathan turned to face them both, his expression unwavering.

"If we hesitate, Darian could seal his fate—and ours along with it. You know what's at stake."

His voice sharpened.

Ivaim gritted his teeth, but Nathan's words rang true.

"I'm not saying we charge in without thinking..."

Nathan added.

"But standing out here debating isn't going to solve anything. We'll figure it out as we head inside. If we're smart, we can stop the ritual before it's too late."

The Black Veil Master inclined her head gracefully.

"Very well. Lead the way."

Ivaim, listening to what he considered a reckless plan, resisted the urge to facepalm.

But they were right... there really wasn't a quicker way to figure out what was going on inside.

"Wait." he said, stepping forward.

He activated [Coin of Fortune], a faint shimmer surrounding the coins as they materialized in his palm.

Tossing one to each of them, he spoke in a steady tone.

"Keep it. It'll give you a bit of luck, at least for a while."

The Black Veil Master studied the coin with vague curiosity, her expression unreadable.

Nathan, on the other hand, didn't react much, he simply pocketed it without a word.

Without further delay, the trio moved toward the massive gates of the Coliseum, which loomed tall and heavy like a slumbering beast.

The usual guards were nowhere to be seen, the entryway eerily deserted.

Nathan placed a hand on the cold metal surface, eyes narrowing as he activated [Metal Manipulation].

The towering doors groaned in protest, trembling under his command as bolts and hinges twisted like pliable vines.

Slowly but forcefully, the gates began to part.

The grinding sound of shifting metal echoed ominously—but then the noise was cut off.

The Black Veil Master extended a hand, shrouding the harsh noise in a veil of silence with an intricate flick of her wrist.

The doors moved without so much as a whisper, as if the wind itself had carried them open.

She had hidden the sound of the moving doors.

Ivaim exhaled softly.

"Handy trick," he muttered.

The gates creaked wide enough for them to enter, revealing what lay beyond.

Ivaim's stomach turned.

It wasn't the sight of an exciting coliseum that greeted them—but death.

Rows of lifeless bodies stretched before them, the grim tableau illuminated by pale beams of fading light.

Blood pooled in thick, stagnant puddles across the stone floor.

Sixteen corpses hovered in the air, suspended like grotesque marionettes.

Chains, dark and glinting faintly, were wrapped tightly around their necks.

The chains stretched upward into the murky shadows of the coliseum's vaulted ceiling, vanishing into an unknown abyss.

The bodies swayed slightly, as though stirred by an invisible, malevolent breeze.

Their eyes were wide open, frozen in expressions of terror, mouths twisted in silent screams.

Blood trailed in dark rivulets from their gaping mouths, dripping steadily onto the stone floor below.

Ivaim's breath hitched.

The sight clawed at his nerves.

"What the hell...?"

He whispered, his voice hoarse.

Nathan's grip tightened around his spear.

"We're not alone..."

He said grimly, eyes scanning the shadowy corners of the arena.

The Black Veil Master's lips pressed into a thin line.

"These chains... they're not just for display."

She murmured.

"They're feeding something..."

Ivaim swallowed hard, his mind racing.

"Feeding what?"

No one answered.

The unnatural creak of chains shifting above sent shivers down their spines.

The eerie sound echoed through the bloodstained coliseum, a grim prelude to what came next.

Ivaim's instincts flared sharply.

Without thinking, he activated [Lucky Leap], launching himself backward just in time to avoid the sudden eruption of ethereal chains snaking up from the ground.

They struck the air where he had just stood, shimmering like ghostly serpents.

The Black Veil Master vanished into a swirling cloak of shadows, seamlessly blending into the darkness as though she'd never been there.

Nathan, unfazed by the ambush, spread his hands wide.

Metal fragments from the ground responded to his command, rising to form a shimmering barrier that deflected the incoming chains with sharp, metallic clangs.

The trio's eyes locked on the figure emerging from the gloom.

A man stood before them, clad in battered armor darkened by age and rust.

His droopy eyes and cold expression exuded a heavy, almost apathetic presence, as if the weight of existence barely registered with him.

Yet there was an undeniable danger in the way he raised his hands, commanding the chains with effortless control.

Darian.

"You people..."

Darian's voice was flat, almost devoid of emotion.

"Please leave. This is none of your business."

Ivaim's jaw clenched as he dodged another sweeping chain, narrowly avoiding its grasp.

'None of our business? If you get reborn as the Master of Cruelty, our only business will be death...'

He thought bitterly, frustration fueling his determination.

Nathan was far less inclined to exchange words.

Without hesitation, he contorted nearby shards of metal into the shape of a spear.

The polished steel gleamed ominously as it hovered in the air for a split second before Nathan sent it hurtling toward Darian with lethal precision.

Darian's eyes flickered. His instincts kicked in, muscles tensing as he prepared to dodge.

But then it came—soft yet commanding, a voice slipping directly into his mind.

"Stay still."

Ivaim's [Whisper] had travelled towards his ear.

Darian's movements faltered, his body locking in place as if bound by invisible shackles.

The spear pierced through his shoulder with a sickening crunch, dark blood staining the metal tip.

Darian's face contorted briefly in pain, but there was no scream, no outward sign of weakness—only a sharp intake of breath as he glared coldly at his attackers.

Just then, behind Darian, a pale and cloaked figure spoke up. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

"Darian... fall back..."