Not even a second was exceeded.
Nicole froze where he stood and his frightened eyes darted to his clothes that were stained with beads of blood.
His eyes slowly moved to Max who stood between him and Hillary.
"I'm fine," Max sent him a smile of assurance despite the fact that half of his arm had exploded into bits and blood spewed from the cut.
There was still evidence on his face that he was suffering from severe pain.
"The third riddle," The statue continued. "What becomes wetter the more it dries?"
Even though it was possible for Max to regenerate, the amount of pain he would go through would be the exact same as the one he would if he couldn't.
"A towel! A mop!" Hillary shouted. Her worry had led to speaking without even putting heads together with the others.
Her action was understandable. Fear coursed through their veins at the moment. The fear of failing more than two riddles.
