Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes-Chapter 74: Defenders

Nathan leaned back in his chair, the faint clinking of cutlery echoing in the quiet corner of the restaurant.

"Hm, we’ll probably be stuck in this Fractured Reality for a few more months."

His tone was calm, as if months trapped in this strange, warped world were just another day at work.

Ivaim smiled to himself, resting his chin on his palm.

’A few more months... Old man Harvin’s probably already replaced me at the workshop.’

"Why so?" he asked, keeping his tone casual, though Nathan’s cryptic statements always managed to hook his curiosity.

Nathan glanced at him.

"Aside from the arenas, I haven’t found anything concrete. No clues, no leads that point to him. Just a mess of dead ends."

Ivaim tapped his fingers against the table, a small grin forming.

"I have."

Nathan’s gaze sharpened, his brow raising slightly.

"You have?"

Ivaim nodded, sitting up straighter.

"The owner of this restaurant, Neli—her story might be connected."

Nathan leaned forward slightly, his interest now fully piqued.

"What story?"

Ivaim ran a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts.

"Her husband was part of the Council of Champions, but he was challenged by someone who didn’t want his seat. He wanted his life. And his family’s, too. Everyone but her."

Nathan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, waiting for Ivaim to continue.

"Her husband fought and lost. She was spared because she was pregnant. That monster—he said he wanted to see if the child she carried could grow stronger than her husband. He left her alive just to watch her suffer."

Nathan’s expression darkened, his voice colder than usual.

"And the challenger was?"

Ivaim’s gaze was steady.

"The Master of Cruelty. Who else would it be?"

For a moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the muffled hum of conversations in the restaurant.

Nathan leaned back, arms crossed.

"If that’s true, then we might have something to work with. Did she say anything else about him?"

Ivaim shook his head.

The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

"Not directly. Her son might know more, but... that’s a whole other problem. From what I gather, he’s chasing his father’s legacy. She tried to keep him away from it, but it didn’t work."

Nathan closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose.

"A tragic story, but not uncommon in a world like this." He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Ivaim’s.

"If the Master of Cruelty’s involved, this lead might be worth following. We’ll keep an eye on it."

Ivaim nodded, though a part of him wished the story hadn’t been so cruel.

"Yeah. Let’s just hope it doesn’t lead to another dead end."

Nathan’s sharp gaze didn’t waver. "There’s only one thing left to worry about."

Ivaim raised an eyebrow, already feeling the weight of the conversation.

’Ah, there’s more?’ He sighed internally, annoyance creeping in. "What else is there?"

Nathan’s tone was even, but there was a hint of caution behind his words.

"The Defenders."

"Defenders?" Ivaim repeated, frowning. The term didn’t ring any bells. "What are they?"

Nathan’s silence was brief but heavy, as if he were deciding whether to explain or let the reality teach Ivaim the hard way.

Finally, he said, "How long have you been a Walker? It’s surprising you don’t know much about these things."

Ivaim chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, let’s just say my Reality Master doesn’t exactly send me on these kinds of missions often. I’m usually assigned to... other things."

Nathan’s expression remained unreadable as he nodded, not particularly interested in Ivaim’s explanation.

"I’ve already told you that we have to complete the Fractured Reality’s story to defeat it, correct?"

"Yeah," Ivaim replied.

"It’s like unraveling a tangled thread—you pull the right one to make it all fall apart."

"Exactly," Nathan said, his tone more serious now.

"But that’s where the Defenders come in. They’re what stand between us and the story’s resolution. They’re the ones who try to stop us from completing the story."

"Stop us how?" Ivaim asked, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity finally piqued.

Nathan’s eyes shifted to the window, his gaze distant.

"Defenders come in many forms, depending on the Fractured Reality. They can be monsters, animals, or..." He hesitated briefly, his voice growing heavier.

"...even people."

Ivaim followed Nathan’s gaze to the blurred outline of a massive coliseum in the distance, its towering structure looming over the landscape.

"People?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"You mean... like the fighters in the arenas?"

Nathan nodded, his jaw tightening slightly.

"Exactly. I suspect that in this Fractured Reality, the Defenders are those fighters. It makes sense—they’re part of the story, part of the challenge. And they’re bound to protect it, even if they don’t realize it."

Ivaim exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging.

"So, you’re saying every time I step into that arena, I could be facing a Defender?"

Nathan’s expression grew darker, and he leaned forward slightly.

"Yes. You’ll likely notice something else too—every time you fight someone in the arena, their bloodlust increases. It’s not subtle. You can feel it. And yet..."

He paused for emphasis, his tone sharp. "...no one in this town seems to care when a Challenger dies."

Ivaim’s brow furrowed at that, and he stayed silent, turning the thought over in his mind.

’Now that I think about it, their aggressiveness is definitely too noticeable in the arena.’ He replayed the matches in his head, the shift in demeanor from calm competitors to raging fighters.

’But after the fights, it’s like it vanishes. At first, I figured it was just the intensity of the arena—fighters getting caught up in the heat of battle.’

Nathan watched him, his gaze unwavering, as if waiting for the realization to hit.

"Wait," Ivaim said, sitting up straighter. "You’re saying this isn’t normal? That there’s... something influencing them in there?"

Nathan nodded curtly.

"Exactly. Something about the arena brings out their most primal instincts. And then there’s the mayor..."

He let the sentence hang, inviting Ivaim to connect the dots.

"The mayor?" Ivaim echoed, narrowing his eyes.

Nathan’s tone was grim.

"He compensates every fighter, even the injured ones. Makes it a point to publicly reward them. But have you noticed? He never once mentions the deceased."

Ivaim felt a cold chill creep up his spine.

’That’s true.’ He hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but now it seemed glaringly obvious.

The mayor always handed out prizes with a flourish, praising the victors and ensuring even the losers were looked after—unless they’d lost their lives.

"You’re right," Ivaim said, his voice quieter now. "It’s like the dead just... disappear."

Nathan leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on Ivaim. "Exactly. There’s no mourning, no ceremonies, no mention at all. Just silence. It’s almost like..."

Discover hidden tales at novelbuddy

"They don’t exist anymore," Ivaim finished, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.