They came to life and tried to shish-kebab the protagonist's team like meat on sticks.
I expected screaming, clashing, death, trauma—
But instead?
Nothing.
Ten minutes of nothing.
No eyes glowing.
No ice cracking.
No dramatic villain theme song.
Just creepy frozen men staring into the void like decorative winter ornaments. "…Okay why are they NOT moving?" I hissed quietly.
Joff poked one. It didn't move.
Henry threw a tiny rock at another. Still nothing.
Chubby slapped one statue's face with his tiny paw. The statue did not care.
Then Alex, with that grim-knight-deep-voice, whispered: "These are the missing royal knights from four years ago… The squad His Majesty sent to investigate the early dungeons."
My stomach turned.
Real men. Real knights.
Not plot puppets. Not random enemies.
People. Frozen alive.
Coffi's voice trembled as she hugged herself. "My lady… we should make fire. Your lips are turning purple."
