Quinn edged toward the nearest statue like a cat stalking a mouse, shoulders low, steps light. He stretched out a finger and poked the stone thigh.

  Then he vanished backward in a blur, landing several meters away in a crouch, knives in hand.

  Nothing happened.

  Alya blinked. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Quinn slowly rose, eyes wide, scanning every alcove, then the giant kneeling eldir at the centre. “Don’t you see it?” he hissed. “This is a boss arena. All of it. The statues, the big guy, the altar. It’s textbook.”

  I exhaled slowly. “Textbook according to what?”

  “Games, stories, basically everything. You walk into a place like this, you take one step too far, and boom, boss fight. And not just a boss, the minions too. Those guys.” He pointed at the statues with the knife. “They look like elite versions. If the half-starved eldir outside are already dangerous, imagine these at full strength.”

  He was talking faster now, words tripping over each other. This was not his usual joking at all; he was nearly starting to panic.

  “Quinn,” I said, keeping my tone level, “nothing has moved. Why are you certain they will come to life?”

  Mary shook her head, a small, almost indulgent smile on her face. “This place is peaceful,” she said gently. “I felt it from the moment I touched the doors. There is healing energy everywhere. In the air, the stone, the plants. We were allowed inside; everything will be fine.”

  “No, no, you have to listen,” Quinn insisted, turning to her. “There are dozens of statues and a giant in front of the altar. The doors are closed behind us. If they activate together, we are trapped in a kill room. Elias, Alya, and Rhea help me break them before anything triggers. Please.”

  The word 'please' from Quinn hit oddly.

  Mary’s smile faded.

  “You will not destroy this place because you played too many games,” she said, and there was steel in her voice. “This place is sacred. Look at it. The life, the light, the craft… I won’t allow you to vandalise it.”

  I stared at her.

  Mary had been firm before, yes. Professional, grounded. But this edge, this heat, did not fit the woman I got to know until now.

  “Mary”, I began, choosing my words carefully, “I do not enjoy ruining something like this. But Quinn has been right more than once. Even with the door. And I have a feeling about the large one at least. It looks like a guardian protecting whatever is up there.”

  She turned her gaze on me as if I had betrayed her. “You cannot seriously believe these statues will magically come to life. That is absurd. We have magic, yes, but this?” She gestured at the alcoves. “These are carvings. Art history! We are not barbarians; I will prove you are wrong.”

  She started walking toward the centre.

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  Quinn moved like lightning and stepped into her path. “Stop! You’re going to trigger it!”

  Rhea and Alya hurried after her, expressions uncertain.

  I leaned slightly toward them. “Something’s off,” I murmured. “Help me calm her. If she won’t listen, restrain her, but gently.”

  Alya gave a sharp nod. Rhea hesitated, troubled, but did not refuse.

  I went beside Quinn as they were having a staring contest, then the girls came beside her, trying to convince her too. "Mary, they are just statues; they are not so important," said Alya. "Yeah, it is not worth it to die for this. Think of all the people who will suffer if something happens to you; don't risk it, please." Rhea was holding her hand now with two of hers. Mary wasn't looking convinced; if anything, she looked like she was about to lash out. So I went closer and put both my hands on her shoulder; she felt rigid, muscles locked under my palms.

  “Mary. Please,” I said quietly. “We have been walking on a blade’s edge since we arrived. Let’s avoid this one if we can. If Quinn is wrong, I will make it up to you. But if he is right, this could be the death of us.”

  Her face tightened. Her lips peeled back slightly, not quite a snarl, but close.

  That was enough confirmation for me.

  I reached outward, toward something in Mary’s shadow, the existence of which none of them knew.

  Marionette of Regret.

  When I first learnt the skill, I thought it would be a fantastic combat tool. A way to freeze an enemy mid-swing. But the description didn’t explain how the skill worked; the same as Drain the Accursed, it forgot to mention that the curse needed time to seep into a person’s shadow, to take root. It grew quietly and unnoticed by everybody.

  I had seated every member of the group yesterday evening.

  A precaution, a terrible one, perhaps. But this place didn’t care about the purity of one’s heart or good intentions. Just power, and the will to use it.

  I felt the curse in Mary’s shadow, faint but present to my senses. I connected with it gently and gave a single command.

  Agree.

  Mary sucked in a breath. Her expression did not soften. If anything, she looked furious. But when she spoke, the words forced themselves out.

  “Fine. FINE! I agree with you. But if you are wrong, this is on you.”

  I released her shoulders and lifted my hands slightly in mock surrender. “My word is my vow.”

  Quinn’s posture loosened a fraction, though his eyes still darted between every statue.

  “So”, I said, “how do we proceed?”

  “The ones near the entrance first,” Quinn answered immediately. “Let’s stay away from the big guy until last. But… my knives aren’t great for stone,” he added, glancing at his belt.

  I held out my mace. “Use this. It works as a magical focus. Channel your skills through it.”

  He took it, testing the weight, surprise flickering across his face.

  Alya stepped closer to me. "I didn't know you could channel skills through it. Do you think I can borrow it for a bit after this? I think my skills will work better with something like that, if it is not a problem, of course."

  Honestly, I should have thought about it already; she nearly died the other day when her sword broke, and I was using it less and less lately. I was fighting more like a mage and less like a warrior compared to the first days; my shield and my mace were becoming less relevant, nearly a detriment to my fighting style, so I was not against it, but in the end they remained my possession, and I will sell them as soon as I reach a safe zone.

  “Of course,” I said. “You will get more use from it than I do.”

  I began forming an arcane dart with my altered method when Rhea’s voice cut through the cavern.

  “Wait!”

  We all turned.

  She was crouched near one of the pedestals, fingers hovering over the stone without touching. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she were listening to something only she could hear.

  “There is a ritual network,” she said slowly. “Layered through the pedestals. Energy flows from one to another, then toward the centre. If we break one, we disrupt the flow.”

  Quinn slapped his forehead loudly, so much that the sound echoed. “She’s right. It’s a classic; if you mess with one, they awaken! We need to break them all at the same time.”

  I looked around the cavern again.

  Dozens of stone warriors – I counted them and came to twenty-two on the right side, so double that, plus the giant kneeling sentinel. And a ritual network connecting everything.

  And us.

  “All right,” I said quietly. “Then we need to plan this properly.”

  20 chapters ahead!