The war had begun in full. The dead from the rear lines were surging forward now, a tide of rotting flesh and rusted armor. The enemy generals, massive hulking figures, moved slowly, their presence alone enough to freeze the advance of any who dared approach. Soon they stopped altogether, standing like towering sentinels in the middle of the battlefield. They weren’t meant to fight yet. They were a wall, an unbreakable line meant to keep anyone from reaching the castle.
Princess Charlie fought beside Luke, the two of them moving in sync, weaving through the chaos and exploiting the gaps opened by the survivors ahead.
[Estimated Time Until End: 05 hours : 47 minutes : 13 seconds]
A small group of undead broke through the defensive line, charging straight toward them. Charlie spun her sword in a graceful arc, cutting through them before their claws even reached her armor. Luke raised his bow and loosed a quick volley.
[You have slain a…]
[You have slain a…]
[You have slain a…]
Three corpses hit the dirt, this time staying down for good.
Luke reached for another arrow from his quiver, twenty in total, prepared before the battle began. The Meditation skill had already restored what he’d spent, leaving him with a full mana pool and enough ammunition to last through the early waves.
“Hey, human, you move too much,” Franky hissed from under his shirt.
“That’s the least of our problems,” Luke muttered, sprinting to catch up to Charlie. He crouched quickly, plucking reusable arrows from fallen corpses, and drew the string again in one fluid motion. The next shot pierced through an undead’s chest, dropping it mid-charge.
“I can’t believe I’m a rat,” Franky grumbled.
Luke’s eyes caught the red glow in the distance, dozens of them. Midnight Wardens. He drew another arrow, aimed for one of their helmets, and fired. The impact cracked through the metal, piercing cleanly and killing the creature instantly.
“Their damned helmets ruin the arrows,” he said, inspecting the broken tip before tossing it aside.
“Let me help, human,” Franky said, poking his small serpent head out from Luke’s collar.
“Sure, I’ll ask the armored zombie to politely die to your acid next time.”
“Thanks.”
“No, idiot, that was sarcasm.”
“What’s sarcasm?”
“Forget it. I already explained that once.”
They pressed forward through the chaos. The group’s formation was an inverted V, cutting through the undead horde like the point of an arrow. Luke held the center, shielded on both sides, with Princess Charlie leading the charge at the front. The full lineup was tight and disciplined: Luke, Charlie, Allison, Evangeline, Jack, Anne, Mason, and a squad of Erza’s maids led by Christine, Ronan’s fiancée.
Charlie shifted her blade into a shield, deflecting a Warden’s spear before smashing its skull with brutal precision. The shield morphed back into a sword as she rammed it through another Warden’s chest, then struck the creature’s jaw with her free hand, shattering bone.
Ahead of them, the maids fought in formation with their spears, holding back waves of weaker undead that came in overwhelming numbers. Their discipline kept the flank secure, their movements precise and unbroken. Luke’s gaze darted across the battlefield. He could see where a single Acid Blood Arrow might open a path through the swarm, but it wasn’t worth it yet. With his total mana pool sitting at five thousand, one shot would drain a full thousand. Too costly for the opening hours of the war.
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