"Again. Rise again. Surely the next death will be different.
– An Unknwon Gravekeeper.
The statue settled into position. Its body looked more solid than before, the cracks and imperfections that had riddled it now gone. Miranda noticed it too. The moment she dropped into her stance, something about her shifted.
She looked heavier. Not in weight, but in presence. Far more dangerous.
The two faced each other in silence.
One of the faces embedded in the statue's torso let out a mocking snort.
The match began.
They charged.
Their fists collided with a thunderous boom that rolled across the blood-soaked lake. This time, neither relied on raw power alone. Feints, counters, weaves, and traps flowed between them in a deadly dance. Each strike was met with another. Neither gave ground. Neither blinked.
Then Miranda suddenly dipped under a punch and unleashed a vicious uppercut.
CRACK!
The statue's head snapped back. Its body lifted off the ground before crashing heavily into the sand.
Miranda didn't pursue. She simply waited.
When the statue rose, its jaw hung loosely from its face, several teeth scattered across the sand. One of the embedded faces began laughing. The other screamed curses.
The statue calmly grabbed its dangling jaw and forced it back into place with a loud crack. Then it punched the cursing face. The laughter stopped.
Silence returned.
Black blood rose from the lake and crawled across the sand, wrapping around the statue's arms. The liquid hardened into massive black gauntlets. A faint red haze appeared around it, forming an almost human silhouette.
"A boxer?" Miranda grinned.
Several tattoos on her body shifted, as if something beneath her skin had adjusted itself.
The statue vanished.
It reappeared in a violent burst, sand exploding beneath its feet. A merciless barrage of punches slammed into Miranda's stomach before she could fully react. She was launched backward, skidding across the ground before landing on her feet. She vomited blood, then smiled.
The statue charged again.
This time, Miranda weaved through every strike like a ghost. She caught its arm and tried to flip it, but the statue buckled her knee and shot its hands toward her throat. In response, Miranda bit down on its arm—hard. She tore away a chunk of flesh and gauntlet, then shoved her hand into its stitched abdomen, lifted the massive construct, and drove it headfirst into the ground.
The impact shook the entire shore.
She spat the chunk of flesh onto the sand.
Before she could press the advantage, streams of blood erupted from beneath her feet—whips, dozens of them. Miranda leapt back as they coiled around the statue, compressing and solidifying into majestic black plate armour. Only the two screaming faces ruined the noble image. They now sprouted twisted horns.
The statue examined its new form, then shifted stances once more.
Miranda laughed. "A grappler now? How many styles do you know?!"
The battle resumed.
The statue kept changing—sword, whip, hammer, battle axe, and spear. Every form it took, Miranda recognised instantly and broke mercilessly. She shattered the sword between her teeth, turned the whip into her own tool to close the distance, outsped the hammer, and snapped the spear in half.
Bombs exploded around her. She ignored them. Daggers barely pierced her skin.
The longer the fight dragged on, the clearer it became: Miranda wasn't trying to kill it anymore.
She was dominating it.
Every technique. Every weapon. Every strategy. The statue produced them all, and Miranda crushed each one. Its armour shattered. Its bones cracked. Its flesh tore. Desperation slowly crept into its movements.
Miranda seized its shoulder, plunged her hand into its chest, and ripped out three black hearts. She crushed them beneath her heel without expression.
The statue collapsed.
Miranda turned around, walked back to us, and sat down, waiting.
The statue revived.
Blood from the lake flooded into its corpse. Its form twisted violently—bones snapping, flesh rearranging. Something went horribly wrong. What rose from the lake was a grotesque hybrid trapped between man and beast. Its gauntlets dangled awkwardly from a canine frame. The two faces screamed in agony. Its once-majestic armour now covered a mass of warts, tumours, and bleeding sores.
It struggled forward and charged.
Miranda caught it effortlessly and hurled it back into the lake, right over the Widow.
The Widow clapped, visibly amused.
The creature returned even more deformed. Again and again it came back, each time more broken. Miranda grew bored. The excitement had left her eyes. She looked like a child who had broken her favourite toy.
Its final form emerged, deformed, wielding twin blades, the two faces nearly merged into the main head. Only one blood-red eye remained, burning with pure hatred.
It attacked.
Miranda dodged. Shattered its blades. Tanked its acidic blood like it was water. The creature's frenzy only made her look more unimpressed, which seemed to enrage it more than any wound.
Eventually, she grabbed one ruined arm and slammed the creature into the ground. Then she began punching—slow, lazy, devastating blows that destroyed its body piece by piece.
The statue was losing, and it knew it.
Suddenly, the red haze around it flowed inward. Its body swelled violently before exploding in a shower of flesh and armour. I barely managed to raise a barrier in time. The shockwave still cracked it.
The fragments flowed back together.
When the statue reformed, it was perfect.
Human. Tall. Flawless. Four arms. Four swords. Jet-black armour streaked with crimson veins. The faces had completely merged. Only a single vertical eye on its forehead stared at Miranda with calm, focused power.
Miranda's grin widened.
Finally.
The statue slashed. The attack carved through the sand. Miranda dodged and countered. For the first time, her punch didn't destroy its armour. The statue responded instantly, blades flashing toward her neck. Miranda caught one with her bare hand and shattered it. Unfazed, the statue simply repaired it.
The battle intensified.
Swords shattered. Armour dented. Bones cracked. The statue managed to stab her several times. Miranda flexed, trapping the blades inside her dense muscle. When the statue tried to pull them free, she broke its arm and smashed its jaw, launching it backwards.
Both of them healed. Both of them smiled—savage, eager, and hungry for more.
The statue roared and lunged forward.
Then—
MISSION COMPLETE
Statue Of SacrificeSlay: 12/12Blessing Of The Lake: Deactivated
Hidden Effect Triggered:Entertain The Widow Of The Lake — Rank A+/S
Third Trial: ######## Automatically Completed
The guide's voice echoed across the lake.
The statue froze mid-motion. Its vertical eye slowly closed.
Standing directly behind it was the Widow, one pale arm buried deep inside its skull. The statue's body began crumbling apart, chunks of black flesh falling into the lake.
The Widow turned toward us supporting the statue's crumbling body and gave a cheerful little wave.
As if she had merely finished watching a particularly enjoyable play.