Nathan stood amidst the swirling chaos, the aura of misfortune thickening with every second.
The battlefield was a mess of jagged cracks and shifting winds, unpredictable and dangerous.
The perfect playground for Ivaim.
Out of nowhere, Ivaim's voice rang out loud and clear, cutting through the arena as he sent a [Whisper] towards Nathan.
"You always this stiff in a fight, or is it just for me?"
Nathan remained silent, calculating, waiting for the misfortune to weaken.
"Oh, I get it."
Ivaim continued.
"You're waiting for the chaos to clear up. Neat little plan. Problem is—"
His voice dropped cold.
"Are you really that patient?"
Nathan clenched his jaw but didn't move.
When he heard those words, he suddenly had the urge to just attack without thinking...
As though he was that impatient.
The whispering voice chuckled.
"Wow, you don't even flinch, huh? Always so composed. That must be boring as hell for your kid."
Still nothing from Nathan.
