Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Chapter 59 Premium Mead

Ivaim glanced at the glowing notification in front of him, reading it carefully as he wiped his flour-dusted hands on his apron.

[You have gained a Believer +1]

[A Believer that is not a Walker has been gained]

[You have unlocked : Blessing]

[Blessing]

Using your given Authority, you can influence traits in your believers accordingly.

He frowned slightly, his excitement dampened.

'So it's not really a skill—more like a perk of being a Reality Master,' he thought, his disappointment evident.

Another notification popped up, breaking his train of thought:

[Check list of believers?]

'Yes,' he answered silently. Immediately, a single name appeared before him:

[1. Jerrick Lounter (Shallow)]

'Shallow, huh?' Ivaim mused, rubbing his chin.@@@@

'That must mean his belief in me is at the bare minimum—a low form of reverence, if you could even call it that.'

As he mulled over the new information, another idea surfaced.

'So that's why Orthodox Reality Masters often set up temples. It's not just about appearances—it's a way to deepen their believers' faith and keep them loyal.' He frowned at the realization.

Then a more personal thought struck him, and his grin widened.

'This has Williams written all over it.'

Typically, when Ivaim activated [Coin of Fortune], a coin imbued with a decent amount of luck would manifest directly in his hand, ready for use.

However, when granting the skill to Williams, he'd made some adjustments.

He had modified the ability so that Williams could only summon a coin by actively and religiously spreading Ivaim's Reality Master title—"The Spirit with Good Luck"—to others.

The coin would appear immediately after Williams fulfilled that condition, but the luck it contained would accumulate gradually, growing stronger over time.

'More efficient this way,' Ivaim thought with satisfaction.

'Every coin becomes an anchor for faith, every word he spreads draws in more believers. A two-for-one deal.'

His presence was as imposing as the weapon he carried, and his voice boomed across the shop.

"What do you mean you don't have the premium mead? You call this a store?!" the man bellowed, slamming his large, calloused hand on the counter.

The shopkeeper, a wiry man with thinning hair and nervous eyes, flinched at the sound but managed a shaky smile.

"S-sir, we're a general goods store," the shopkeeper stammered. "We don't carry specialty items like mead. Perhaps the tavern might—"

"I don't want the tavern's swill!" the man roared, cutting him off. "I came here because I heard this place had everything!"

Ivaim sighed quietly, setting his items down on a nearby shelf.

'Great. Just what I needed—a walking temper tantrum with an axe.'

The man's fur cloak shifted as he leaned over the counter, his hulking figure casting a shadow over the trembling shopkeeper.

"You've got one last chance," he growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. "Find me that mead, or I'll find a way to 'rearrange' your inventory myself."

"Excuse me," Ivaim interjected, his voice calm but firm as he stepped closer. "Some of us are waiting to pay. If you're done yelling at the poor man, maybe you could move aside?"

The muscular man turned slowly, his sharp green eyes narrowing as they settled on Ivaim.

"And who do you think you are?" he sneered, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his axe.

Ivaim raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Just someone trying to buy flour and sugar. But if you're looking for a fight instead of mead, I'm sure the tavern has plenty of people who'd be happy to oblige."

A tense silence hung in the air as the two locked eyes, the shopkeeper glancing nervously between them. Ivaim's expression remained steady, unflinching despite the man's intimidating frame.

Finally, the man let out a derisive snort, pulling back from the counter.

"Hmph. Lucky I'm in a good mood," he muttered, turning toward the door. "This place isn't worth my time anyway."

'I know I'm lucky, I activated my [Coin of Fortune] after all,' Ivaim thought in amusement.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Ivaim let out a quiet breath and turned back to the shopkeeper.

"Sorry about that. Some people don't know how to behave."

The shopkeeper nodded quickly, his face still pale.

"Thank you for stepping in. I—uh—hope he doesn't come back."

Ivaim smiled faintly, placing his items on the counter.

"If he does, just make sure you're stocked with mead next time."

The shopkeeper blinked, then let out a nervous laugh as he began ringing up the items.