The voice of one who did not exist, the sudden appearance of statues, the silent disappearance of the sentry outside—strange events kept unfolding one after another, wearing down the group's spirit.
Now, knowing the statues could kill, everyone sank deeper into fear.
Here, apart from the leader, none of them differed much in strength. Thus, they all understood: if a statue could instantly kill one of their comrades, then it could just as easily kill them.
Even stronger than the rest, the leader himself was sweating in terror no less than the others.
He, too, could not have slain his men so swiftly and cleanly in such a cramped place. That simple comparison made clear how dangerous the statues were.
The group moved as quickly as they could, striving not to touch the statues around them.
Because their hideout was small, those at the front soon reached the exit.
Being the first to glimpse the light outside, the bald man and the scar‑faced man were overjoyed, believing they had escaped.
At the cave's mouth, they rushed out at full speed.
Never in their lives had they longed for the sun so desperately.
But as they burst outside, both fell straight into a deep pit that had never existed before.
Worse still, at the bottom lay rows of sharp stone spikes.
The unlucky bald man was impaled and killed instantly.
The scar‑faced man reacted faster, shielding himself with his own spiritual energy.
Though battered, he survived.
"Damn it, who set this up?" he cursed.
Unlike the ninth voice and the statues shrouded in mystery and eeriness, this trap was clearly something crude in appearance, laid bare with malicious intent aimed directly at them.
Struggling to rise, he heard screams from comrades still inside.
His pale face told that he already knew what was happening.
If such a trap lay outside, how could their enemy possibly allow them to escape so easily?
Even the statues' earlier restraint—attacking only those who tried to harm them—was but a deception to lower their guard.
"Who is it?"
He once again uttered a question that received no answer.
* * * * * * * * * *
Inside the hideout, as soon as the first two escaped, the statues suddenly attacked the rest.
Caught off guard, half of them were killed in the first strike.
Had anyone observed the whole scene, they would have seen that not all statues moved at once—only three did so simultaneously.
After the first successful strike, the statues continued to move, targeting the three remaining men.
In the narrow passage, chaos erupted.
The survivors fought desperately, smashing statues around them.
Yet whenever one statue was destroyed, another exploited the opening to strike.
With no room to dodge, they could only defend. But the statues' blows were stronger than their defenses, quickly overwhelming them.
Even those not killed instantly were soon battered to death by follow‑up strikes.
Within seconds, only the leader remained alive. All his subordinates lay dead in pools of blood.
Before him now stood many statues, all turning their gaze upon him.
Shuddering, the leader cried:
"I surrender! Take whatever treasure you want—spare my life!"
Like the scar‑faced man, he guessed that a Mage had targeted them with bizarre magics.
Knowing he could not resist, he begged for mercy, hoping for escape.
But the statues' next actions crushed that hope.
They kept advancing, pressing him back.
Seeing this, the leader immediately retreated and ran toward the spot where one of the secret escape routes was hidden.
With the stone statues still chasing hard behind him, he ran in panic. Yet, to his horror, the statues—though seemingly heavy—were able to move faster than he had imagined, and the distance between them kept closing.
Realizing he could not flee, the leader turned in fury, unleashing a full‑force punch.
The blow shattered the head of the nearest statue and pushed back another.
But before he could rejoice, the headless statue still advanced, driving its fist into his stomach.
His vision darkened for a moment. In that instant of weakness, another statue struck—a hook punch to his temple.
The blow landed, producing a sickening crack.
Thus, the leader fell, following his men into death within their own dark lair.
* * * * * * * * * *
From the pit below, enduring the pain of his fall, the scar‑faced man struggled to climb out.
As soon as he climbed up, before he could feel any joy, what he saw was a foot stomping straight toward his face.
"Stop—" he began.
But the foot came down without hesitation.
His neck snapped, skull crushed, and his body fell back into the pit, never to rise again.
Only after his statue finished off the last man did Tris step out from hiding nearby, satisfied.
Experimenting with his new magic was truly fascinating. He was pleased with the results.
Earlier, Tris had eliminated the sentry in secret, then set up the pit trap and the stone clones.
Finally, he used the magic 'Echo' to create voices, instilling fear and guiding the bandits' actions—driving them straight into his trap.
The stone clones were much like the puppets 'The Twin' that Tris often used, but far inferior.
But in return, they could be created easily and quickly, making up in numbers for what they lacked in quality.
The main purpose of this magic was to expand the range of tricks he could employ.
For example, when the puppets are damaged and cannot be used, the clones can always serve as temporary replacements.
Or, in certain situations that require suicidal tactics, sacrificing expensive magical puppets would be too wasteful and costly, so the clones can be used instead.
Beyond that, Tris could think of many other applications. And one of them was setting a trap—just like the one he had just carried out.
In high spirits, Tris entered the bandits' lair to collect all his spoils.