The silence lingered, thick and heavy, as the Master of Cruelty prepared to respond to Nathan's words. Just as he opened his mouth, a loud, sharp noise split the air—like the shattering of glass.
The Master's head turned sharply, his gaze piercing through the barrier, far beyond the distance that would have been possible for any ordinary being.
His expression remained unchanged, but his voice carried a hint of surprise.
"I see…" he murmured, his voice calm but laced with something dark and calculating. "The other Throne Holders are quicker than I expected."
He turned his attention back to Ivaim, his gaze heavy and unyielding. Nathan's presence was dismissed entirely, as if the man was no longer even in the room.
"Spirit," the Master's voice rumbled, sharp and deliberate, "I can feel the power of Fortune swirling around you. Tell me, what do you believe luck has in store for you now?"
