I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 139 – The Throne Gate and the Heart of Power

Dawn arrived slowly. The sky remained gray, cloaked in thick clouds and a low-hanging fog that drifted over the deadlands. No birds sang. No sunlight pierced through. Only the shift in temperature marked the passing of time the cold that had once merely chilled now bit deeper, and the still fog began to stir like the breath of a giant waking from a long slumber.

Inside the main tent, Sylvia opened her eyes slowly. Silence still reigned within the room, broken only by the soft rustle of cloth as she moved. In her arms, Sofia was still asleep, her expression peaceful. Sylvia gazed at her for a moment, then rose carefully so as not to wake her.

She donned the robe laid out beside the bed pitch black fabric with purple embroidery forming patterns like roots and energy veins, subtly shifting if watched too long. Upon her back was the now-iconic emblem known across the land: a broken crown with a dark circle behind it the sigil of the Dark Queen.

Moments later, Sofia joined her outside the tent. Her hair wasn’t fully brushed, but her eyes were sharp and ready. She wore her battle armor pale gold and pristine white, glowing faintly in the morning fog.

The army had assembled.

High-rank zombies stood in formation, some wielding enchanted swords, others bearing spears and shields laced with blackened metal. Among them, humans could be seen in light battle gear, each wearing a dark red band on their left arm the symbol of unity under Sylvia’s banner. It wasn’t mandatory, but many wore it with pride, honored to fight beneath the Dark Queen.

Zark stood at the formation’s center, holding a dark metal staff used both for magical communication and area destruction.

"The formation is ready, my Queen," he said in his deep voice. "The signal from the enemy’s base remains active. They’re waiting."

Sylvia nodded and stepped forward.

She stood atop a flat stone, surveying the army ready to march into the heart of the Third Zombie King’s territory. The mist continued to drift, forming a faint path leading north whether it was guiding them or luring them into a trap, none could tell.

"Listen," Sylvia’s voice rang out soft yet clear, amplified by magic.

"The place we’re heading to isn’t just an enemy den. It’s the Throne of Bones the seat of power for the Third Zombie King. He waits there. For me. For us. Perhaps to make me his queen. Perhaps to assert dominance. Or perhaps, simply to prove he’s not the last."

Her gaze swept over her troops. "But he’s wrong. This isn’t about love, or power, or grandeur. It’s about the world. About what will rise once the last of the Zombie Kings has fallen."

She raised a hand, and the wind surged forward, parting the mist before her as if bowing to her will.

"We march. And we don’t return without his head."

The army didn’t cheer. Instead, their reply came in the form of steel clashing against steel all at once, in rhythm. A thunderous clang that made the dead earth tremble.

The march began.

They moved in silence.

Heavy, synchronized steps echoed through the crawling mist. They followed the natural path formed by residual magic in the air a trail the scouts had called "the death corridor." On either side, dead trees and ruined buildings stood like silent witnesses to a long-fallen civilization. No animals. No wind. Just the sound of footsteps and the hum of undead power.

Sylvia led the front, flanked by Zark on her left and Sofia on her right. Their zombie dragon flew low above them, shadowing the column, ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice. Occasionally, Sylvia’s eyes swept the surroundings not out of caution, but as though searching for something. Perhaps a trap. Or perhaps the gaze of the Zombie King himself, undoubtedly watching from afar.

"This place... the deeper we go, the more suffocating it feels," Sofia whispered.

"That’s because we’re close," Sylvia replied calmly. "The energy here comes from the King himself. It’s not just aura it’s will. He wants us to feel him... even before we see him."

Their path brought them to a massive stone gate, half-crumbled yet still standing between two cliffs. Above it, a massive skull insignia was carved, crowned with jagged bone spires. Below, an aged metal gate hung half-open, as though waiting.

"This is it..." Zark murmured. "The outer gate to the Throne of Bones."

As they approached, two figures stepped from the ruins.

Not ordinary zombies. They were dressed like royal guards, wearing chestplates made from bone and rotted leather, wielding obsidian spears. Their faces were severely decayed, but both eyes glowed with that same violet hue as the envoy who had visited Sylvia’s city five days ago.

One of them spoke, his voice like stone scraping against stone.

"The King awaits... The Queen is welcome... with her army, if she so chooses."

Sylvia gave no answer. She simply walked forward, past the guards without so much as a glance. As she passed the threshold, the temperature dropped sharply. This was no mere cold it was a chill that crawled into bones, settling in the blood.

Beyond the gate stretched a vast plain. The ground was blackened and cracked, scorched and cursed over and over. In its center stood a colossal fortress built of bone, stone, and dark metal. Towering spires pierced the gray sky, and violet fog swirled around its highest peaks like a crown of death.

This was the Throne of Bones the heart of the Third Zombie King’s dominion.

Sylvia’s army entered the field behind her, forming ranks. They moved as one silent, resolute. The tension was thick, a thread drawn taut and ready to snap.

And before the fortress gates, seated atop a smaller throne made from enormous skulls, was a tall, thin figure in a velvet-red cloak. His face was pale but striking, with long silvery hair and dimly glowing violet eyes. He gazed at Sylvia with a relaxed smile like this was all part of some grand game.

"Oho... you came with your army to kneel before me. Good... good."

Sylvia stared at him coldly. ’Is he overly optimistic, or just insane?’ she wondered. Beside her, Sofia was visibly annoyed. Her eyes were narrowing, already beginning to glow faintly.

Sylvia sighed. "Of course not. We’re here to destroy you."

But the Zombie King merely chuckled, responding with a smooth, mocking tone, "Ah, such a rebellious woman... so beautiful."

Then he rose slowly, raising one hand.

"Very well... if that’s your wish, my dear. All of you begin the assault."

At once, the gates behind him opened, and thousands of zombies surged forth from tunnels and cracked earth. Their ranks were disciplined, led by elite units whose bodies had been modified with dark magic and metal grafts.

Sylvia looked ahead, voice sharp and even.

"Advance."

And as the two forces clashed, the deadlands shook once more.

The clang of metal. The roar of magic. The howls of the damned.

The battle had begun.

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