The thing was staring at him.
Not just facing him. Not just aimed vaguely in his direction with the stiff, mannequin-level commitment of a haunted prop. No — this was different. Intentional. Subtle. And completely wrong.
The statue's face—if one could even call it that—was featureless. No eyes. No mouth. Just a smooth, dark mask of polished stone. But Shin could feel something shift when it looked at him. A pressure? A presence? No.
A gaze.
Just enough to tell him that somewhere behind that uncanny shape, there was attention. Eyes—perhaps not visible, but there. Watching. Like something ancient waking up behind a wall that wasn't quite supposed to break.
Shin didn't move. Not because he was afraid. He definitely was, but that wasn't the reason. It was an instinct deeper than caution told him the rules here weren't normal. Something in the air, in the texture of silence, pressed down on him like static waiting for a signal. And if there was one thing he'd learned by now, it was this:
if something didn't chase you immediately, it was waiting for something worse.
So he stood perfectly still, eyes locked with the statue that wasn't quite a statue, trying not to blink too loudly.
No response.
Hmm.
So he shifted his balance slightly—just enough to adjust his footing—and the statue moved. A single, measured step, as if it had been waiting for a chance.
It didn't lunge forward or growl, but it ticked. Like a clock hand jerking forward by a second, a deliberate nod of motion echoing his own.
Interesting.
He tried again, moving his fingers slightly and shifting his weight from one leg to the next. With each motion, the creature's head ticked sideways in sync, as if someone had updated its posture manually.
The connection was instant. They weren't watching him, but responding. His movement triggered theirs—each twitch mirrored like a dance rehearsal on a laggy feed.The faster he moved, the faster they'd respond.
And if the twitchy statues dotting the chamber were any indication, he wasn't dealing with a handful of slow, lumbering golems. No. He was standing in the middle of something far more dangerous: a ballet of sandy vampires that could turn even Dracula himself into a pile of sand.
It was just like a video game.Except here, "game over" didn't take you back to a menu.Just the void. Probably.
Shin stood still for a long moment, eyes flicking between the three now-mobile statues in his view. He could see more—half-buried in the chamber, lying in wait. Five or maybe six. Maybe even more.
"Great. I've entered a divine murder rhythm game."
Moving faster makes them faster. But standing still meant no progress.
Okay. That made sense.Now all he had to do was deal with the statue standing half a step away.The one looking at him as if picking which kind of sandcastle to make from his remains.
Hmm.Then let's do that. Shin didn't move, but he prepared in his head—visualizing the next motion to the accuracy of frames. And then—
A sudden pulse of compressed air ripped outward—Wind blast exploding from his side like a slap from the heavens. The nearest statue shattered before he even had a moment to react. Cracks webbed across its torso and limbs before the body disintegrated—flung across the chamber in a rain of sharp stone shards and echoing silence.
But he didn't have time to breath. The single moment he spent shooting the blast was enough time for the other golems to leave the sand completely and cross half a room toward him.
And speaking of sand…
From the sand pit to his left, two long-limbed figures began to stir. Not suddenly. Just rising slowly like a nightmare being polite. Same build. Same lack of facial detail. Were they hiding there all along?
"Oh," Shin breathed. "That's just great."
That was a trial, right? There surely must be a solution. But why on earth the difficulty of this place so high? Shin decided he will give his opinion the moment he meet's the maker of this tower. Well, assuming he can reach there before turning to dust.
He moved again—only slightly this time, just enough to pivot his stance and scan for gaps. The nearest statue jolted in response, stepping forward with the elegance of a dying puppet. Another twitched from across the sand. Their movement wasn't just reactive—it was mirrored, synced, like they were all watching the same screen and hitting 'play' every time he so much as shifted weight.
His breath slowed. Heart rate followed. Calm wasn't an option—it was a necessity. Because the moment he ran—if he had to run—they would move like bullets. And even if he could outrun a bullet, bullets were not the size of a small truck.
There was only one option.He had to move fast enough to kill all of them before they could corner him.
Sigh. So tonight did go catastrophically wrong. No wonder he stopped praying to the gods. Undoubtedly, all of them are crazy.
A single moment. Seven statues must be dead in one moment. If he miss even one then he is doomed. He breathed slowly and then.
CRACK
Windpiercer appeared in his hand faster than the tower could react. All the statues leaped into the air like deadly ricochets but were sliced clean with slashes as thin as air. They crumble into dust and fell to the ground. Shin landed cleanly on the sand, bidding farewell for a statue that had veins of golden dust running across its arms like cracks in cooling lava.
He exhaled and waited for the next trial. Little did he know that the trial was just starting.
From the remains of the statue, another long-limbed figure began to stir. A slow hand rose, then a massive body lifted itself from the sand. It had the same build and lack of facial detail, and worst of all, this one also had veins of golden dust running across his body.
And it, too, watched him. It stared at him with such intensity, Shin could almost feel the hate behind that blank face.
"So, we're doing the creepy staring thing again. Cool. Love that."
Shin wasn't panicking—at least if you asked him—but he felt distressed when he realized this statue was not the only one rising. Eleven. Eleven more statues were now rising from the ground. One more had the golden dust running across his body.
"No, no, no," Shin whispered, eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare."
Six dead. Twelve rising.
Oh in the name of— He swore under his breath.
"Multiplication mechanics," he muttered, almost impressed despite the rising doom. Fantastic. Just what he wanted in his tomb.
He could understand being punished for a wrong answer. But that was a bit much.
״So no killing. Got it," he said bitterly.
Blinking was a mistake though.
With a sudden, physics-defying burst, one statue shot forward like a black dart thrown by a god in a hurry. It crossed half the chamber in a blink, carving a blur of distorted air behind it as Shin dropped flat on reflex—then thrusting himself forward. The motion causes another statue to move, his massive hands outstretched forward like a wrecking ball.
Shin immediately changed direction and rolled just past it. The two statues collided into each other with enough force to create a small dune, then both popped into sprinkling dust.
"Brilliant," he muttered dryly. "Definitely a healthy learning environment."
He smiled a little—tight, sharp. Hope flavored with panic.
Well, that's a solution.
It wasn't foolproof, though. Only certain statues seemed to trigger that effect. From the scattered remains, he could guess not all golems were the same. Some turned their targets to stone. Others to sand. Did he have to match them so that only those with the sand touch do the killing?
"Oh," Shin breathed. Now that sounds fun.
So not only did he have to avoid being turned into powdered bone meal, but he also had to ensure that the statues destroyed each other, but only the right ones, and only in the right order?
Right. There are some with sand touch, and some with stone touch. Then, how about Sandy golems and Rocky golems?
Ah Shin, the epitome of originality and creativity. He felt quite proud at that moment.
A quick calculation revealed a shortcut. He needs to make sure there are two Sandy Golems and let them kill all the others, then let them kill each other.
Sure.
Totally manageable.
As long as he didn't blink wrong.
The statues continued their slow pivot, watching without watching. Two of them moved closer to each other. He adjusted his stance—deliberately this time, almost baiting.
One raised an arm. Just barely. Shin dropped instinctively, dodging with a shoulder roll that would've impressed even himself if he wasn't currently trying not to die. The golem brushed against the other's shoulder.
The second one turned shattered like a broken stone.
But Shin didn't celebrate. He couldn't.
Because the one who had just broken to pieces?
Had split in two.
"Oh, come on."
Apparently, successful attacks could also be considered kills. And as a reward, you got more nightmare buddies.
He backed up slowly, letting his boots slide gently through the dust to avoid triggering any movement.
The math was already against him.
Think, he yelled to himself in his mind. The golems must not be destroyed, or they would split. He must make sure only a sandy golem can do the killing. He calculated a path in his mind—trying to visualize how many could be baited into hitting each other without domino-ing the entire floor into an eternal loop of cursed statue mitosis.
He needed space.
He needed timing.
He needed—
A crunch of sand from behind made him spin.
Too late.
One of them had circled wide—nearly flanking. And now, it moved. Shin had twitched in response, and that was all it needed.
It lunged. Arms extended. A blur of perfect, silent death.
Shin's foot hit the sand—and he slid.
Hard left, a tight spin, ducking under its path as it blasted past where he'd stood. The slip pulled another two statues into motion. Three converged at once, closing in from different sides.
But the one that had lunged?
It missed.
And clipped one of the others mid-turn into a one big sand explosion.
Oh, it's just like my last end-of-year celebration.
Shin leapt backward just in time to avoid the resulting cloud. Two gone. One remained. And judging by the way its arms extended into perfect blades of curved black, it wasn't happy about being the last one at the party.
Another statue twitched nearby. Then another one. They were circling again like a slow orbit of dread.
The good thing about that situation was that he didn't lack time. That was the only good thing about the situation. Even breathing or blinking could make those creatures move.
He must time it right to win. He moved in just enough, stopping and moving in a repeated rhythm until he positioned himself in the center of all the golems. Trying his original idea of fooling two sandy golems was now out of the question. But he still had one perfect trick.
Well, as perfect as you can call an improvisation done while running for your life when a mob of angry statues is following you.
He breathed in. Not deep, not loud. Just a controlled inhale. The kind you take before diving headfirst into disaster and pretending it was your idea all along.
The statues shifted again, sensing the micro-movement.
That was it. He had them.
He waited one heartbeat.
And—
exploded.
Wind gathered at his back, slamming into his legs like a jet engine. Shin vanished from where he stood, launched across the sand like a bolt of divinely-annoyed lightning.
The statues reacted instantly. All leaping, not in sync—but toward the motion.
They crashed into each other—an avalanche of perfect monsters colliding mid-air. Stone into sand. Sand into nothing. Dust into divine static. The entire room lit with a flicker of collapsing energy, pressure folding in on itself with a sound like divine cymbals hitting concrete.
Then silence.
When Shin landed, he did so in a crouch, one knee brushing the still-glowing floor. The air buzzed. The pressure settled.
The statues were gone.
The trial chamber shuddered once—and a soft chime rang out from the far end of the room. The trial was over.
Shin stood and exhaled.
"...Huh," he muttered, brushing sand off his sleeve. "That went better than expected."
Pause.
He glanced around at the wreckage. The dust. The fading heat of divine motion.
"…Probably."