I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl - Chapter 313

Chapter 313: Chapter 309 – The Day When Fire Faces Death
The halls of Korthan reverberated like a giant’s chest being hammered repeatedly. The vibrations from the first impact still rippled through the marble, causing tiny cracks to glow like lava veins. Fire and dust danced in chaotic yet orderly patterns, a dance that never lost its rhythm.

In the center, two figures locked gazes. Korthan, a form of war that encompasses thousands of battles; and Sylvia, the center of emptiness that turns into the abyss of life. Between them, the air felt like a layer of hot, dense iron, attacking, giving no respite.

“You swallowed my attack, then turned it into your own power,” Korthan joked, his voice reverberating like a steel hammer. His eyes blazed, but it wasn’t just anger: it was the admiration of a fighter who had found a worthy opponent.

Sylvia didn’t answer with words; she answered with movement. The Chains of the Abyss wrapped around her hands spun, drawing in the surrounding energy, condensing into a smoking black spear. Behind her, an aura of Death Flames swelled, clinging to each strand of chain like lava soaking into scrap metal.

“I don’t care if you’re impressed,” he said flatly. “Honor won’t save you.”

Then he ran.

Sylvia’s steps were not human. They were concise, definitive, no-nonsense final steps. Each of her footsteps cut a tiny bit of probability around her; a tiny bit of chance of collapse, a tiny bit of chance. Ahead, Korthan swung his fire axe as high as a thousand suns.

BOOMMM!!!!

The first impact sounded like thunder. The axe sliced ​​through the air, leaving a trail of fire that sprayed hot fragments. Sylvia met it with her chain spear; the black iron slammed into the axe, absorbing most of the energy. There was no spectacular explosion that revealed a secret, just a small storm of ash and embers.

But Korthan didn’t hold back, pressing. Each strike was an attempt to destroy the structure. “If I break it, you crumble. If I chisel a little, you change.” He cornered Sylvia with a series of swings, a well-practiced combination of blows designed to tear through the layers of protection.

Sylvia danced among the waves. She blocked, dragged, and occasionally swallowed the blows; when Korthan’s firesteel fell upon her, it didn’t burn. It absorbed it, transforming it into black flames that clung to the chains. Each time she absorbed it, her body trembled, but she remained unshaken. Something within her was creeping, strengthening not just her muscles, but her very essence proof that Mortifera was now more than a name, but a function operating on mechanics other than her own.

On the flank, Sofia moved like a beam, not to attack, but to support. She ignited a white field that enveloped the area behind Sylvia; the scheme wasn’t just a passive defense, but a living sheath to contain any remaining energy that might shift, preventing further damage. Alicia unleashed a dimensional distortion, directing thin shapes of light as anchors to restrain the lava currents that wanted to distort the field. Stacia, behind her, sharpened her eyes: she cut through time in small passages to give the entire team a breather.

The battle entered its second phase, faster and more intense. Korthan, previously adhering to a direct style of warfare, refined his tactics. He summoned echoes of war: moving steel statues, warriors of lava wielding spears, faceless ranks mimicking human movements. They emerged from cracks in the floor, from fissures created by the heat, and ambushed Sylvia from the flanks. This was more than an attack: it was a test of integrity.

Sylvia didn’t panic. She spun the Chains of Abyss, weaving the chains into a dark web that ensnared several lava warriors. In one barely-shaken motion, she severed the souls within them, not to kill them, but to stifle them. Korthan’s triumphant smile faded into a tense line. “You erased them from history,” he hissed. “Such actions… they are futile in the continuation of the war.”

“It’s not in vain,” Sylvia replied, her voice cold. “That’s the point. Let the living hold onto their memories, not statues that replicate soulless tragedies.”

Meanwhile, Korthan pressed harder. He created a pressure center around him: a storm of shield shards, micro-explosions, every second a test of stamina. Lines of fire warriors reappeared, some spread across the hall, some swinging spears directly at Stacia and Alicia. Consequently, the small team had to move, keeping up a rhythm.

Alicia reacted first; in her usual style, she cut through several of the reality barriers, creating small loops that sent the soldiers’ attacks back to their origins. Several of the soldiers exploded into embers that fell and were frozen by Sylvia’s expanding Death Cloak. Stacia used the opening to send a light healing aura toward Sofia, ensuring that Sofia’s faith in life wasn’t eroded by the consuming blast of war.

Korthan grinned. He raised his axe again, coalescing the surrounding embers into a crystal pillar of fire, then sent it flying. Sylvia, this time, didn’t wait. She drew the Chains of Abyss, hurling them like spears not at the axe, but at the pillars themselves. The chains struck the pillars one by one; as they met the clumps of flame, a different reaction occurred: the flames transformed, darkened, hissing like a mutilated snake. The battlefield shook.

Korthan leaped down from a great height, soaring through the air with a trail of small, ember-like blades. He clung to her, striking a barrage. Sylvia faced him one-on-one; they clashed, each impact sending a pulse that tore at the pulleys of time around them. An illusionary audience formed: the image of a thousand battlefields, the idea of ​​war repeating itself, reflected off the temple walls. Amidst it all, only one thing was clear: each time Sylvia swallowed a blow, she wasn’t just storing power; she was modifying the laws around her. The world’s little logic was shattered; fire was no longer just fire; it became data that could be processed.

Korthan sensed the shift. There was a point where he had to change tactics. He lowered the intensity of his direct attacks, replacing them with terrain manipulation: letting the floor beneath Sylvia melt, creating a vast pool of magma, forcing Sylvia to face even more brutal conditions. “Look!” Korthan shouted. “You may be able to absorb my attacks, but you can’t drown me! This is a battle of endurance, not mere sharpness!”

Sylvia simply stared and raised a finger. The Chain of Abyss sank into the magma floor, spreading like a root, drawing in heat, transforming the local magma into a black mass that hardened like dense obsidian, not extinguishing, but forming a new floor. The floor wasn’t simply a summary of the destruction; it became a reflection of the void, a surface that held back light. Korthan froze; he hadn’t expected Sylvia to be able to metabolize the environment so directly.

It was then that Korthan did something that brought everything to a screeching halt: he gathered the remnants of war throughout the temple, the memories of explosions, the echoes of footsteps, the rage of fallen warriors and compressed them into a single, concentrated point. That point posed a real threat: if released, it would trigger a mass collapse that would destroy the temple’s structure and all within. This was no longer a duel; it was a will for the entire space.

Sylvia stared at the spot, realizing that Korthan’s strategy was to force a choice: destroy himself for victory, or absorb it and let the explosion become part of his body. She could bide her time, call for help, or find a way out, but the situation was tense: every second gave Korthan the option to burn the world to the ground.

He chose.

With a complete turn, the Chains of Abyss circled the dense point like military wire, compressing the surroundings, breaking its central structure into tiny fragments. The process was not without risk; as Sylvia sucked and divided, a black mist ensnared her; there was a flash of what felt like a loss of self. Sofia, Alicia, and Stacia used their energies to contain the fluctuations. Sofia wrapped Sylvia in her light, Alicia reflected the dimensional confusion, Stacia held back time to prevent the division from bursting into a fatal openness.

At that moment, Sylvia seemed more human than ever, not strong because she was unwavering, but strong because she was willing to bear the burden that would have crushed so many lives. There’s a strange capacity for empathy in death: lifting the burden to prevent mass destruction.

The dense dots disintegrated slowly, becoming grains that were absorbed by the Chains of Abyss. The explosion that should have been monumental turned into small strands of smoke that were quickly broken down and swallowed. Korthan screamed not from pain, but from a sense of loss: a man who worshiped war could not bear to see his great work laid bare not by the sword, but by the simple act of dividing and containing.

“Are you… helping me?” her voice was low, almost inaudible.

Sylvia stood still, her breath steady. “I didn’t help. I erased it because I chose a different path. Your wars create ruins. I don’t want them to destroy unrelated lives.”

Korthan stared, his eyes soft for a split second. There was much unspoken: respect, loss, confusion. But war allowed no time for ignorance. He raised his axe, and the aura returned to its restraint: no confession could stop a mission.

They fought again, and this time the fight wasn’t just about attack; it was about the form of civilization they were trying to preserve. Sylvia tore, Korthan repaired. Outside the arena, the temple raged: pillars crumbled, paths split, obelisks creaked. But amid the fury, there was an indelible line: Sylvia, Sofia, Alicia, Stacia together, they persevered. They were no longer mere allies; they had become symbols of the carvers of a new order.

When the final dust settled for a while, Korthan raised his axe high into the torn sky. “Well done,” he said, his breathing heavy. “You have guts. You have technique. But the final question remains: why are you doing all this? What is your ultimate goal, Queen of Death?”

Sylvia looked at him, and her answer wasn’t a promise or a threat; it was an affirmation: “To overhaul the system. If the gods no longer judge life fairly, then we ourselves will determine its fate.”

Korthan let out a long laugh, a sound that carried the weight of a thousand battlefields. “You talk like a queen. You act like a king. Prove it.”

Behind the laughter, the two prepared to launch the next pace. The temple cracked deeper; the heavens above held their breath. And the world waited, silent witnesses who would record history as fire and death met, not just to destroy, but to rewrite the laws that determine who has the right to rule.