Zyron's eyes widened as he stared at the two headless bodies in the distance.
'Has it really become a demon!?' — for a brief moment, that was what he believed.
But upon closer inspection, he noticed the internal structure within Tris's headless body.
'Impossible… that's a puppet!?'
Startled, Zyron abruptly turned to look at the puppet he had been fighting all this time.
"How did you do it?" he demanded.
From behind the mask worn by the puppet, Tris's voice responded:
"Just a small trick to let that puppet over there speak with my voice."
Of course, things were far from as simple as he made them sound.
Tris had crafted the puppet that fought the assassins to match his own height. He had even gone so far as to replicate his own face—something that required far more effort.
Using spatial magic, he scanned every detail of his face to create an exact "mold" for the design of "The Twin."
Normally, 'The Twin' wore a mask to hide the fact that it shared the same face as Tris.
But to truly deceive others like today, matching height, appearance, and voice through the "Echo" magic was still not enough.
He had deliberately dressed it in high-collared clothing to obscure the lower half of its face, preventing unnatural movements around the mouth from being noticed when it spoke.
In addition, Tris had wrapped the puppet in a thin layer of spatial magic, blocking others from seeing through to its inner mechanisms.
This magic also interfered with certain detection methods—such as sensing body heat, heartbeat, breathing, or scent.
Thus, even opponents with such abilities would assume their perception had been disrupted by magic, rather than realizing the "opponent" before them was merely an inanimate construct.
Finally—and most crucially—Tris's remote puppet control allowed him to swap positions seamlessly.
All of this combined into a carefully constructed trap meant to kill his enemies.
A trap whose foundation had been laid from the very moment he first conceived this puppet.
Hearing the vague explanation, Zyron obviously didn't believe it and instead formed his own conclusions.
The visible details—the mask and the outfit—were obvious enough.
What truly caught his attention was that earlier, he had clearly seen magical threads connecting the "fake Tris" puppet to the real Tris, who was disguised as the masked puppet.
Because the control process appeared normal, Zyron hadn't noticed the switch.
But now, knowing that the puppet and the mage had swapped places, it became highly unnatural.
It meant that Tris could control the puppet purely through magical threads—without even using his hands.
This was a new technique.
And it even bore similarities to the methods used by Zyron and Veylor.
"To create a new technique at your age… I didn't underestimate you, yet you still exceed my imagination every time," Zyron said sincerely.
'Combined with those insidious traps… no wonder even Veylor was killed,' he warned himself internally, raising his guard further against this abnormal "monster."
Zyron's praise brought Tris no joy whatsoever.
If anything, it meant that the traps he had prepared would be far harder to use as his opponent grew more cautious.
And that meant the battle ahead would only become more difficult.
Tris wasn't some battle-crazed fool who enjoyed facing stronger enemies like a certain tail-less monkey who could change hair color.
'Damn it… healing your enemy so you can fight them at full strength is just stupid beyond words,' Tris grumbled inwardly as he retrieved the now headless puppet and brought out "Berserker."
For him, what had just happened was merely the appetizer.
Now came the main course.
Zyron and Tris stood facing each other in silence.
There was no room for negotiation or reconciliation.
Only hatred and the determination to kill.
And without any signal—
They both moved at the same time.
The Golem and "Berserker" charged at each other with terrifying speed despite their massive size.
Both threw their fists forward, aiming to crush the other.
When their fists collided, the impact roared like a collapsing mountain.
Then came more—punches, kicks, stomps, shoulder slams—an endless barrage of attacks.
Each step and strike felt like it shook the entire mountain.
At the same time, while the two constructs clashed, Zyron and Tris unleashed their magic at each other.
From Zyron's side, countless stone spears shot toward Tris.
With nimble footwork, Tris dodged while casually deflecting them with the back of his hand.
Simultaneously, with a mere flick of his fingers, a sharp stone pillar erupted from the ground behind Zyron, aiming for his back.
But before it could strike, a wall of earth rose instantly, shattering the attack.
Back and forth, both at their own positions and through their puppets, they exchanged magics continuously.
The way they could multitask, weaving several magics at once, was nothing short of astonishing.
Such combat required immense mental focus, where even the smallest mistake was unacceptable.
A delay of even a fraction of a second could cost them their lives.
And to achieve this, talent alone was not enough—only those tempered by real combat experience could reach such a level.
Minutes passed under this relentless intensity.
Fatigue began to show on both sides.
Tris's direct attacks toward Zyron became less frequent.
Meanwhile, sweat soaked Zyron's clothes from the strain.
Though he never underestimated his opponent, only now—facing him directly—did he truly grasp just how absurd Tris's abilities were.
It had been a long time since Zyron had fought someone this strong.
In contrast, Tris had been through continuous battles in recent days.
Each fight had honed his ability to control multiple puppets simultaneously.
Thanks to that, he now held an invisible advantage.
In the end—
Zyron was the first to falter.
No… it wasn't even a mistake.
More accurately, Tris created the opportunity himself—and seized it.
Using "Devouring Hand," Berserker grabbed the Golem's wrist and pulled, throwing off its balance.
As it fell, the Golem reacted quickly, counterattacking by smashing its shoulder into Berserker, breaking one of its arms.
But by sacrificing that arm, Tris exploited the opening.
Berserker crushed the Golem's leg, bringing the massive construct down completely.
Not wasting the chance, Berserker leapt up and unleashed a relentless barrage.
One punch. Two. Three…
Each blow struck like a warhammer, giving the enemy no chance to recover.
One by one, the Golem's critical joints were destroyed.
And within mere seconds—
The victor between the two monsters was decided.