Rihanna observed the priests of the Holy Church closely, her sharp eyes narrowing.
At first glance, the statue of Magnus appeared just like any other sacred idol, a mere representation of the God of the Sea, revered by the people of the island.
But that was a lie.
Something about it felt off.
She had already noticed its unnatural properties—the way it could shrink and expand at will, as if responding to the desires of its wielders.
Her gaze darkened, and she muttered under her breath,
"That's not just a statue, is it? It's a treasure."
But the more she analyzed it, the more her instincts screamed at her.
This was no ordinary treasure.
First, there was its affinity to water, seen clearly in the flowing beards of liquid cascading down its stone face—water that never touched the ground, as if trapped in some eternal loop of motion.
Then, there was its deadly effect.
