Chapter 376: The Queen on the Board

Luke pushed forward through the snowfield, the wind slicing the air like invisible blades. Moments ago, he had helped Eleanor, and now he was charging across the white wasteland atop his stone horse. Around him, the statues ran, fast, too fast for something lifeless. They tore through the battlefield in a frenzy, crushing whatever scraps of undead still lingered. The storm howled around them, and for a moment it felt like the entire world was moving against him.

“James Bond? Seriously? Still going with that?” Artemis’s voice echoed faintly as the stone horse galloped through the blizzard.

“What, you think I’m gonna tell everyone who I am?” Luke replied, eyes locked on the white horizon. “Hey there, I’m Luke, nice to meet you, I’m controlling an army of statues. Yeah, that’s not the kind of news I want spreading when they make it back home.”

“Relax, Bruce Wayne. You’re not hiding in Gotham to protect your loved ones from the Riddler. You could’ve just introduced yourself like a normal person.”

“For the people who needed to know, that was enough.” He leaned forward and patted the creature’s stone head twice. “Faster.”

The horse reared back, then launched forward like a living arrow. The speed nearly tore him off the saddle. The cold stung his face, snowflakes pelting his skin like needles.

“Human… cold… too cold,” muttered the snake coiled under his clothes.

“Keep warming up on me, little snake. I still have unfinished business in this frozen hell.”

“I’m not warming up on you!” Franky hissed.

“No? Then why are you burrowing deeper into my clothes?”

The snake flicked its tongue but didn’t answer.

The horse kept galloping, then suddenly stopped. Ahead, a massive silhouette loomed through the storm, a Warden General. Luke raised his hand.

“Kill,” he commanded.

The nearest statues broke formation, charging across the snow. The General swung his halberd, smashing through dozens of them with thunderous blows, but more came. A line of stone archers lifted their bows, loosing volleys in perfect rhythm, each shot slicing through the air with a sharp hiss. The General tried to fight back, but his movements slowed. Even though the statues were level 45, he couldn’t withstand that tide of living stone.

Luke watched from behind the mask. The statues didn’t follow his voice; they followed his will. The bond between them wasn’t spoken but forged, a thread of magic linking their minds together through the artifact’s power. The order was absolute and simple: annihilate the undead and protect the living.

As he galloped onward, he passed a group of soldiers who froze at the sight of him. One panicked and fired a spell out of reflex. He didn’t blame them. To anyone else, the statues could’ve just as easily been another army of monsters crawling out of the blizzard. Luke glanced over his shoulder. Hundreds followed in formation: mounted knights on stone steeds, archers with eyes aglow, warriors carved into both human and beastly forms, all marching beneath one unspoken command. The rhythm of their footsteps and hooves struck the earth like a distant drumbeat.

The mission was clear, hunt down the Warden Generals. Behind him, the survivors were with Allison now. He hadn’t even had the chance to help or explain; the battlefield was collapsing, and every second mattered. Each statue had to destroy as many undead as possible before the magic faded, before the Warhorn’s enchantment ran out and they returned to being nothing more than frozen stone scattered across the snow.

The mask pulsed with weight, a heartbeat that wasn’t his. The link between his soul and those creatures was almost suffocating—every motion they made echoed inside him, every time one was shattered he felt a piece of himself fracture with it. Each crack in the living stone carried pain that wasn’t entirely theirs.

But there was no time to hesitate. The wind howled across the plains, biting deeper with every gust. The sky hung low and heavy, a smothering dome of gray. Luke leaned forward in the saddle, lowering his center of gravity, and spurred the horse into a sprint. Charlie rested within his soul, recovering mana, stamina, and health faster that way—a flicker of warmth tucked inside the storm.

More statues ran alongside him, gliding over the snow like shadows made of stone. He reached a half-collapsed watchtower, overrun by undead clawing at the walls, trying to breach the defenses. Smoke, frost, and the metallic stench of blood filled the air. The sky above was nearly white, pressing down like the weight of the world.

Luke raised his hand.

The statues—wolves, bears, even a tiger with a cracked marble hide—sprang forward as if alive. Their claws ripped through the undead ranks, crushing, tearing, grinding bodies into the snow. The sound of battle roared around him, a storm of shattering bone and splintered ice.

Five Wardens charged from the ridge, their spears glowing with crimson runes. Each step sent snow spiraling upward in blinding gusts. Luke watched their approach and responded with precision. Spear-bearing statues slid into formation, their movements synchronized like an army that had trained for centuries. One struck from behind, another from the flank. A third twisted to parry a blow, opening a perfect gap for the others. In an instant, three lances pierced the Warden from different angles—chest, abdomen, throat. The creature convulsed, then fell limp, sinking into the snow. The rest followed, crushed under the coordinated fury of living stone.

“Head for the damn castle! Follow the wind!” Luke’s voice came muffled through the mask. His steed obeyed, leaping forward, snow exploding in its wake.

Ahead, a great bonfire burned against the storm, a beacon in the chaos—until a towering undead general stomped through it, snuffing out the flames beneath its armored weight. The light died, swallowed by darkness. Panic spread again. Soldiers and statues alike surged into the fight, leaping from the shadows, striking with silent wrath. Luke cut through the chaos without slowing.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The camp came into view—rows of tattered tents, huddled figures crouching for cover. Stone cavalry thundered between them, their lances skewering anything that broke through the defensive line. The ground was a canvas of blood, snow, and shattered bone. Luke rode through it all like a phantom, never once looking back.

An archer statue galloped past, standing on its own steed, loosing arrows in rapid succession. The creature it targeted—a massive general—turned just in time to block the first shot. The statue’s horse circled, drawing its attention, while others closed in from the sides. Within seconds, the monster was on its knees, then still.

Luke lifted his gaze toward the sky.

A faint interface flickered before his eyes, translucent against the storm.

[Estimated Time Until End: 02 hours : 02 minutes : 19 seconds]

The sound of wind and arrows blended with the pounding of his own heartbeat. “Come on, move!” he muttered to the horse, forcing it to change direction.