Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes

Chapter 41 Metallic Totem

"For now, sure," Harvin said, his voice tinged with hesitation. But then he added, eyes narrowing, "But you remember what that woman said. She prophesied that Reves is the key to why the Ten Throne Holders will meet their end in the near future."

Harvin paused, as if weighing his words carefully. "Though prophecies are often unreliable, we both know what she's capable of. That woman... she's not to be underestimated."

The tall man's face remained impassive, but his fist tightened at his side.

"No one will harm Reves. I'll make sure of that," he said, his voice low and unwavering.

"And to make sure of that, I need the Artifact, Harvin."

Harvin's lips curled into a scowl.

"You've stooped low, Nathan," he said bitterly, his eyes flashing with disapproval.

Nathan met his gaze with an even stare.

"There's no shame in being a father, Harvin," he replied, his voice steady but carrying an undeniable intensity.

Before Harvin could respond, the man raised his hand, palm facing upward. His fingers curled into a fist, and the room seemed to pulse with tension.

Ivaim felt the air shift. The metallic walls creaked, and a sharp, unnatural hum filled the space.

Suddenly, shards of metal—like jagged spikes—began to shoot towards him and Harvin from every corner of the room.

Instinct took over. Ivaim's body moved on its own, the moment he activated [Lucky Leap].

With a quick lunge, he dodged the oncoming metal shards, his heart pounding in his chest. The air seemed to snap in his wake as the sharp edges missed him by mere inches.

Harvin, though momentarily surprised, stood his ground. He huffed in frustration, his gaze fixed on Nathan.

With a forceful stomp, he sent a shockwave through the ground. The sharp metallic projectiles froze mid-air, suspended by some unseen force, before gently falling to the floor.

But the room wasn't done yet.

The walls groaned, and sections of them slid open with mechanical precision, revealing hidden compartments. Out from the shadows emerged gun-like machines, their barrels gleaming coldly in the dim light.

A harsh clank rang through the room as they flipped into position, their targeting systems locking on to Nathan.

Ivaim's heart pounded in his chest.

'That was... too close.'

The destructive power behind the spear was terrifying. It had obliterated the cage in one blow—far more power than he'd seen before, even in the toughest of opponents.

But the danger wasn't over. As Ivaim recovered his footing, more spears began to form, emerging from the walls with speed and precision. The sharp hiss of metal cutting through the air filled the space, and Ivaim had no time to think.

He moved again, dodging a spear that tore through the air inches from his face. His heart raced, each movement a desperate attempt to avoid being skewered.

The walls seemed to close in around him. Metal scraped and shifted as the spears surged forward. There was no time to think, no time to breathe—only the sharp, relentless pursuit of Nathan's will, each spear more deadly than the last.

Ivaim's mind raced.

'I can't keep dodging forever.'

The room felt smaller with each passing second, the pressure mounting. His instincts screamed at him to move, to keep moving.

Another spear shot toward Ivaim, its jagged point cutting through the air with deadly precision. This time, Ivaim didn't have enough time to dodge.

The spear grazed his side, the sharp metal searing through his flesh. Pain exploded in his ribs, a hot, searing agony that made him stumble sideways, his breath hitching.

'Damn it!'

His footing slipped for a moment, but Ivaim regained his balance just in time to avoid another spear aimed straight for his head.

The room seemed to pulse with danger as the metal walls closed in, every corner a threat. But then—abruptly—the spears stopped.

Harvin let out a low, frustrated huff, rolling to the side. His foot came down with a sharp tap, and the metallic compartments in the room groaned and shifted.

The sound was unnatural, the grind of metal against metal sending a shiver down Ivaim's spine. As the compartments shifted, a new shape emerged from the floor.

Ivaim's eyes narrowed as the object took form: a large, ominous metallic totem. His heart skipped a beat.

'The artifact?'

But as he took in the intricate design of the totem, a cold realization settled in. This wasn't an artifact—it held an aura that he was quite familiar with.

'No... that's not an artifact. That's a Threshold item!'