The third puzzle came alive.
The walls moved as if they weren't solid stone but surfaces of water acting like mirrors. Shapes formed on them—reflections of Rhys, each one holding the Ruinous Darkness Blade. Some copied his moves, while others did the opposite. When he raised his sword, they raised theirs. When he stepped back, a few stepped forward.
It was a trick. A test of recognition.
Only one reflection was real. The rest were fakes.
Rhys steadied his breath and watched them carefully. The false ones gave themselves away—their eyes blinked too slowly, their shadows bent in the wrong direction, their blades gave off soundless hums. The real one—his true reflection—glowed faintly with the [Tidal Shard] at his side.
He lifted his sword and swung. The false reflections shattered like glass, the cavern echoing with the sound of rushing water. When the last illusion broke apart, a third shard of light floated into his hand.
The symbols on the gate flared brighter.
