A Ruse of Thieves

Arthur stood firm, the sandstorm whipping around him. The sandmen, ethereal creatures formed from the very storm that shrouded them, worked in unison to pry the artifact from his grip. Despite their efforts, Arthur's strength proved unyielding, like an anchor in the midst of a raging sea.

Their whispers grew louder, more frantic, as dozens turned to hundreds, and then a thousand sandmen surrounded him. Each added its strength to the collective force, pulling with all their might. Arthur's face remained stoic, his stance unbroken, but finally, with a sudden twist, the artifact was ripped from his grasp.

The sandstorm howled louder as the sandmen vanished into its swirling embrace, taking the artifact with them. The wind began to settle, and the chaotic storm dissipated, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

Diana's eyes widened in shock. "Arthur, they took it!"

Arthur's lips curled into a faint smile. "I let them."