I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl - Chapter 311

Chapter 311: Chapter 307 – The Lost Trail of Faith and the Road Toward Fire
A faint crack like thin glass breaking far in the distance echoed through the temple as the last threads of faith were absorbed into Sylvia and Sofia’s bodies. The radiance that had once filled the chamber spinning, pulsing, resonating like an ancient heart slowly dimmed until only shifting shadows remained on the walls.

Then…

Silence.

A long, heavy silence, as though the realm of the gods inhaled and no longer knew whether to exhale or hold its breath forever.

In the center of the altar chamber, Sylvia stood with an unreadable expression. Her Death Aura drifted softly around her, not threatening… but filling. Strengthening. Refining.

Beside her, Sofia pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the newly absorbed faith of life flowing into her like sunlight warming wet earth after a long rain. Her breath trembled faintly not from weakness, but from the sheer purity of it, like too much light for a single vessel to hold.

Behind them, Olmerath placed a hand over his face. His eyes narrowed as if pierced by that same light ironically born from something he once governed. His lips trembled in a mix of frustration and resignation.

“…Years…” he whispered.

“Hundreds of years gathering faith… lost in minutes…”

He exhaled slowly, the sound like a chain snapping link by link.

“But at least… I remain.”

Alicia tilted her head, approaching Sylvia.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Stacia glanced briefly at Olmerath.

“Physically? Yes. Mentally? …Probably not.”

Alicia snorted.

“Good. He deserves at least some emotional damage.”

Sylvia turned slightly toward Alicia and Stacia on her right. Both of them looked prepared to break the temple themselves if Olmerath made a wrong move. The tension wasn’t new; it was the shadow of an old conflict, born back when the gods’ avatars (including Olmerath) tried to erase Sylvia’s existence. But Sylvia just gave a soft shake of her head.

“We’re not here for petty revenge,” she said calmly.

Stacia sighed. “We know.”

Alicia shrugged. “Sure, sure. Still feels wrong letting him stand after all that.”

Sylvia looked back to the altar, her Death Aura whispering like a faint breeze.

“I’m not satisfied,” Sylvia admitted plainly.

“I want to destroy them myself. One by one.”

Olmerath stiffened.

“But…” Sylvia continued, “wasting energy on someone who has already surrendered is pointless.”

Sofia glanced sideways at her, smiling with warm understanding.

“That’s a decision only someone who has grown can make.”

The little Treant, who had been staring at Olmerath like a bird that had lost its nest, suddenly hopped back onto Sylvia’s arm. It tapped her cheek twice.

“Plop.”

(I’m proud.)

Sylvia held back a small smile, a rare thing even Alicia wouldn’t tease.

She lifted the Treant to its usual perch atop her head, where it bobbed like a tiny crown that could kill gods if it felt like it.

Once the mood stabilized, Sylvia turned fully toward Olmerath.

“Olmerath,” she said. “Where are the other temples of the gods?”

Olmerath hesitated, then approached slowly, as if walking toward a newly crowned monarch.

He lifted a hand. Six symbols of blue-violet light appeared in the air, each marking a temple location.

“Look closely,” he murmured, his voice thinner than before.

He pointed to the first glowing bright red.

“The closest belongs to Korthan, the God of Fire and War. Impulsive… but don’t be fooled. He is brilliant in strategy and never surrenders.”

The second symbol was a dark blue wave.

“Farther out is Nerys, Goddess of the Sea. She is the memory itself of all things lost. Her temple constantly shifts with the ‘soul tides’ of her worshippers.”

Stacia studied them carefully. Alicia committed them to memory. Sofia listened with intent. The Treant nodded even though it understood nothing.

Olmerath paused before pointing to a floating stone monolith.

“Dreigos, god of slow time and stone. Not an enemy… but not an ally. He waits thousands of years before moving a single step.”

The fourth symbol was a spiraling green mist.

“Syvalith, master of the forbidden forests. Neutral. He won’t interfere as long as you don’t step into his territory without permission.”

Fifth: a black spatial fracture.

“Xynareth, Goddess of the Void. Your enemy. She is likely the only one you cannot approach without triggering immediate destruction.”

And last, two colliding circles.

“Zha’gor, God of Ending and Beginning. If he descends… the world turns a new page.”

When he lowered his hand, the symbols vanished, leaving behind a heavy silence. Everyone felt the atmosphere shift. Their journey had only now truly begun.

Sylvia nodded once. “Thank you.”

A short, cold, simple sentence yet enough to make Olmerath almost smile in relief.

“I… hope you don’t die,” he murmured.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Us too.”

But as Sylvia stepped toward the temple exit, she suddenly halted. Her Death Aura fluttered sharpening. The temple reacted.

The white marble walls began to crack. Golden ornaments dimmed. Reliefs flickered like dying candles. As Sylvia walked out, the entire temple trembled violently.

CRRRRAAAK!

Olmerath paled.

“W-Why…?”

A fracture split from the altar’s center all the way up the dome.

Alicia backed away, covering her ears. “Oh, this is bad.”

Stacia glanced at Sylvia.

“The faith sustaining this temple is gone. Without it, the temple has no anchor to exist.”

Olmerath knew she was right, he had always known.

But hearing it made his chest ache.

“My temple… the place I guarded for millennia…”

BRUUUM!!

A surge of light erupted at the center. Pillars collapsed like snapped grass. Marble crumbled into white dust. Olmerath shut his eyes, swallowing the grief in silence.

“Life is worth more than stone,” Sylvia said from outside the ruins.

He wanted to argue and to rage but Sylvia was right. Better to lose a temple… than his existence. Before he could mourn further…

The air behind him tore open like fabric. Two gentle but unyieldingly powerful hands grabbed his shoulders.

Lumielle smiled calmly. Ithara grinned mischievously.

“Come,” Lumielle said. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

“You’re dangerous,” Ithara added. “But useful.”

Olmerath froze. “What do you…”

In an instant, his body vanished into the spatial tear, taken forcibly by the two goddesses. After he disappeared, Sylvia gazed toward the horizon. Between white hills and golden haze… a colossal temple stood.

Red pillars releasing smoke. The sky above it pulsing like ember-light. And from within, faint clashing of weapons echoed like thousands of small wars replaying eternally.

Korthan God of Fire and War.

Sylvia inhaled lightly.

“All right. We’ll start here.”

The Treant raised its branch like a sword.

PLOP!

(Charge!)

Alicia laughed. “At least someone’s excited.”

Stacia adjusted her robe. “Very well. Next arc begins.”

Sofia stood firmly beside Sylvia, her eyes full of resolve.

“I’m with you. No matter what.”

Sylvia looked at her briefly, then nodded. They walked across the white marble plain.

…..

The Temple of Korthan grew clearer as they approached a colossal structure forged of dark red stone, as though sculpted from molten magma and left to cool in pure rage. Black stone pillars rose like the ribs of some dead titan, each carved with war-runes that pulsed like glowing veins. Thin smoke drifted from cracks along the walls, and every gust of wind carried the smell of burned iron and dried blood.

Alicia grimaced, waving a hand in front of her nose.

“Ugh… this smell… like a barbarian training hall where no one has bathed in a century.”

Stacia shot her a flat look.

“Alicia. That is the scent of war. Show some respect.”

Alicia rolled her eyes.

“I am respecting war. I just don’t respect its odor.”

The tiny Treant on Sylvia’s head wriggled, his little branches fanning as if trying to push the smoke away.

Plop.

(Hot…)

Sofia brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, but she still managed a faint smile.

“Korthan is well-known for being… intense. His warriors have trained without stopping for thousands of years.”

Sylvia nodded.

“I can feel it.”

The aura around the temple pulsed in waves steady, rhythmic, but violent. Each time one of those waves brushed Sylvia, her Death Chains vibrated as if assessing the strength of the one inside.

“He knows we’re coming,” Sylvia murmured.

Alicia halted midair. “Y-You sure?”

Sylvia nodded again.

“War doesn’t sleep. And he is the fire of war itself.”

Sofia stepped closer and took Sylvia’s hand.

“So… do we attack directly, or speak first?”

Sylvia tilted her head, thinking for a moment.

“…We speak first.”

Alicia almost choked.

“Ta–Talk?! With a war god who can burn an entire city because someone greeted him wrong?!”

Stacia responded calmly,

“Korthan respects courage more than obedience. If we approach without flinching, he might choose to talk.”

Alicia raised a hand.

“Or he might punch us in the face.”

Sofia smiled gently.

“If he tries to punch Sylvia, it’s his hand that will shatter.”

The little Treant nodded so fast he was practically vibrating.

PLOP! PLOP!

(Exactly!)

Their conversation halted the moment they stepped onto the black stone stairs leading to the temple entrance. And the instant Sylvia’s foot touched the first step…

DUNG!!

A deep, resonant sound like a war gong being struck thundered across the entire area.

The sky shifted from gold to dark crimson. Smoke around them twisted violently, swirling upward into a vortex like the eye of a storm.

Alicia immediately raised both hands.

“Okay, yep definitely not a friendly welcome.”

But Sylvia stared straight ahead.

“…No. This is a greeting of respect.”

The moment the words left her mouth, the massive temple doors groaned open from within, revealing a vast hall lined with towering statues of giant warriors. And in the center of that hall stood a figure three meters tall, shaped like living red metal.

His skin glowed like heated iron. His hair burned like pure flame. And his eyes… were two everlasting embers.

Korthan.

God of Fire and War.