I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl - Chapter 321

Chapter 321: Chapter 317 – The Day When Night Faces Death
The beach, soaked in blood and seawater, was now silent, like the world’s breath held back after a storm. The Nerys Sea had calmed, its surface flat like black glass reflecting the golden sky of the gods with hidden exhaustion. The wind carried the lingering scent of salt mixed with ash, its breeze gentle, as if afraid to disturb the fragile tranquility.

They should have left by now.

Sofia stood in the middle of the sand, her body light after releasing great power, her white wings drooping softly like silk fabric that had just withstood fierce winds. Her spear touched the ground silently, its tip leaving a small trace in the wet sand.

Sylvia was not far away, her death aura subsiding into a calm depth, like an abyss waiting patiently. The War Sun Flame pulsed gently within her, resonating with the remnants of judgmental fire. The small treant on her head swayed lightly, seeking balance once more.

“Let’s go,” said Sylvia, her voice low and certain.

But the world was not finished.

The sky dimmed slowly, not from clouds or storms, but as if light were being pulled by an invisible hand. The golden color faded into deep gray, the air lost its shine, the sea lost its reflection. Everything became a shadow of itself.

Stacia froze, the threads of time around her neatly severed not accelerated or slowed, but cut off from an unseen source.

“This isn’t a transition,” she whispered sharply.

Alicia raised her head, her dimensional instincts vibrating. “No predecessor souls. This is pure shadow.”

Sylvia turned.

And the night attacked.

Not from any direction. It emerged in the gaps of existence, in the blind spots of awareness. A black blade, the manifestation of night itself, slashed from the side, striking Sofia with cold precision.

CRAAAK!

Sofia’s body was flung back, crashing into the sand with vibrations rippling across the entire beach. Dark blood sprayed, her wings twisted, her spear flung far away. Her protective light shattered like thin glass.

Alicia shouted her name, but the sound drowned in the cracking air.

Nerys, from the sea, recognized the essence. “A conceptual attack,” she murmured. “Decision, not power.”

Sylvia turned fully.

The air around her tensed, gravity hesitated, shadows lengthened following her will rather than light. Death Flame ignited not exploding, but expanding like a rising black ocean.

The Chains of Abyss emerged from the void not summoned in anger, but released by absolute decision. The War Sun Flame merged with it, creating an aura that made the sky bow and the sea freeze.

The shadow Velgrath tried to retreat into its original darkness.

Too late.

Space folded, and Sylvia was already before it.

Her hand gripped the essence of night not a physical neck, but the conceptual core. Cracks appeared in Velgrath’s shadow robe, like night fractured by uninvited light.

Velgrath froze. The threads of fate it always held… vanished.

“Interesting,” it said, its voice still calm though cracking at the edges. “Even I can no longer see possibilities.”

The chains of death coiled around its body, piercing the shadow, pinning the night in place. Sylvia approached, her eyes absorbing all light, transforming it into deeper darkness.

“You touched her,” she said flatly, her voice layered like echoes from an abyss.

Velgrath tried to open a night portal.

No response. The darkness refused to protect it.

“You attacked from behind the moment,” Sylvia continued. “You chose weakness.”

Black liquid dripped from its robe, evaporating before touching the ground, becoming smoke swallowed by the chains.

“I was merely correcting the path of fate,” Velgrath replied, now with tense lines on its half-visible face.

The chains tightened.

One chain lashed out, piercing its conceptual shoulder, turning night into hissing black like cold lava. Velgrath jolted, the night around it rippling.

This was no ordinary punishment. This was metabolism: Sylvia absorbed the night essence, transforming it into part of the Death Flame, making the darkness into black fire clinging to the chains.

Velgrath felt the shift. “You… are swallowing my night,” it hissed not in anger, but in the awe of a warrior finding a true opponent.

“Not swallowing,” Sylvia replied coldly. “Transforming. Your night replicates secrets without soul. I give it a worthy end.”

In the distance, Sofia coughed, blood soaking the sand. That small sound was enough to make Sylvia’s aura waver for a fraction of a second.

Velgrath saw the opening; its shadow unraveled into fragments, attempting to peel away from the moment.

The chains reacted first. They did not chase form, but possibility. Dozens of chains pierced space, pulling Velgrath back, forcing the night to roughly reform its shape.

Sylvia was there, always there.

Other chains moved precisely: one pressed the conceptual chest, eroding ancient symbols on its robe; another pulled the arm, forcing secrets open then closing them again as new darkness. Each strike was not random blows, but carving: reshaping night’s structure into death’s obsidian.

Velgrath jolted again, its expression cracked by newfound helplessness.

“You cannot erase the guardian of fate,” it said haltingly.

Sylvia raised one finger. The Chains of Abyss spread like roots into the surrounding darkness, sucking shadows, turning the beach into a thick black surface that held light, creating a new floor from conquered night.

Velgrath was transfixed. It had not expected night to be metabolized directly.

Stacia tried to approach, time around her trembling, but she held back, giving a small gap for Sofia to breathe. Alicia created a thin dimensional loop, containing shifting shadow remnants to prevent wider damage. Nerys, from the sea, only watched silently.

Velgrath gathered its remaining night into a dense point, threatening to release massive darkness that would swallow the entire beach.

Sylvia did not wait. The chains encircled the point, breaking it into shards, absorbing slowly. The process made Sylvia’s aura vibrate, black mist entangling her temporarily, but the team held: Sofia’s weak light enveloped, Alicia’s distortion reflected, Stacia’s time slowed the fluctuations.

The dense point shattered into grains that were swallowed, monumental darkness turned into small smoke that unraveled.

Velgrath let out a soft scream not physical pain, but loss: the god of night could not bear seeing its work dismantled not by light, but by death that divided and contained.

“Are you… forgiving?” its voice low.

“Not forgiving,” Sylvia replied. “I am erasing the consequences you created. Your night produces hidden wounds. I do not want it to collapse the innocent.”

Velgrath stared, its eyes soft for a fraction of a second: hidden respect.

But night gave no time for peace. It attempted one final attack, shadow manipulation to envelop Sylvia.

Sylvia danced among them, absorbing each fragment, transforming them into new chains. They intertwined in conceptual clash: night tearing, death repairing in new ways.

The beach inflamed: sand melted into black glass, sea cracked, sky torn. But in the midst, Sylvia endured, together with Sofia, Alicia, Stacia symbols of new order.

When the smoke subsided temporarily, Velgrath was held in a web of chains, its body cracked but not destroyed.

“Good,” it said, breathing heavily like echoes of a long night. “You have depth. You have precision. But the question remains: why hold this night, Queen of Death?”

Sylvia stared at it, her answer not a threat, but affirmation.

“To overhaul the balance. If the gods choose cheating darkness, we ourselves will determine the worthy light.”

Velgrath smiled faintly, a smile cracked with a thousand secrets. “You speak like the final ruler. Prove it.”

Behind that, the chains tightened again. The beach cracked deeper, the sky held its breath. And the world waited, witness to when night and death met not merely to destroy each other, but to rewrite the laws measuring who deserves to hide secrets.

The black chains pulsed like the veins of a newborn world, each throb biting deeper into Velgrath’s essence. The night that once protected it now became its prison every fragment of darkness it called was immediately swallowed, transformed into thick obsidian binding its body tighter.

Velgrath laughed softly, its voice cracking like glass falling into an abyss. “You truly are a queen,” it said, its breath interrupted by the chain pressure on its chest. “But even a queen must pay the price for her crown.”

It gathered the remaining untouched conceptual night remnants, condensing them into invisible shadow needles. The needles were not to kill, it knew that was futile but to pierce the small gap that had briefly opened: Sylvia’s heart was still bound to Sofia.

The needles shot silently toward the sand where Sofia lay.

Stacia saw it first. Time around her cracked; she cut the flow into a thousand small pieces, slowing the needles to near stillness. Alicia reacted next as she folded space in front of Sofia, creating a dimensional mirror reflecting the needles back toward Velgrath itself.

But Sylvia had already moved.

She did not turn to Sofia. She did not need to. The Chains of Abyss expanded like giant wings, catching every needle before reaching halfway. Night needles met death chains, then vanished, not destroyed, but digested, transformed into black fire now blazing at the end of each chain.

Velgrath jolted. “You… protect without looking,” it murmured, awe mixed with despair.

Sylvia approached again, her face still expressionless. “Because I know where she is. Always.”

The final chain coiled around Velgrath’s conceptual throat not to choke, but to hold the breath of night itself. The sky that was once gray now became pitch black, but not Velgrath’s darkness; this was new darkness, belonging to Mortifera.

“I will not kill you,” Sylvia said softly. “Death is too cheap for you. You will continue to exist, but the night you guard will serve me now.”

Velgrath stared at her for a long time. Then, for the first time, it bowed its head.

In the background, Sofia coughed softly again, her voice weak but alive. Sylvia’s aura wavered once more not weakness, but the return of awareness.