I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 149 – Stone, Bone, and a New Beginning

The morning fog that clung to the valley surrounding the castle had yet to fully lift when the sounds of clinking metal and scraping stone began to echo from the main courtyard. Among the ruins and moss-covered old walls, dozens of zombies toiled lifting stones, cutting timber, and rebuilding collapsed foundations.

They worked without words, without complaint, without fatigue. Some had rusted metal limbs, others were little more than half-decayed skeletons enchanted with spells to strengthen their movements. But every undead creature labored with the same unwavering purpose: to serve the command of their queen.

Atop the main stairway stood Sylvia.

Her black gown billowed in the mountain wind, and her eyes scanned the damage with the precision of a veteran architect. With a snap of her fingers, fractured sections of the wall slowly fused back together but not everything could be repaired with magic. Many parts of the castle were simply too old, too fragile, or too far gone.

"Fifteen pillars need replacing," said Celes from her right, hands busy writing on a thin sheet of enchanted metal that shifted colors in response to tracking magic. "Three bridges between towers are beyond repair, and the eastern floor’s heating matrix is nearly dead."

Sylvia nodded, descending the steps past several zombies hauling a spare gate salvaged from the rubble.

"We’ll rebuild the east wing as the logistics barracks. Heating isn’t critical there."

Celes looked up at her while continuing to write.

"We’re short on magical materials. The red crystal veins below this area are only enough to power defenses barely." freewebnøvel.coɱ

"We’ll find alternatives," Sylvia replied. "I’ll send a squad of scouting zombies to the western valley. There’s an old research city in ruins there maybe there are still usable minerals left. Or I’ll hunt down some monsters."

Zombies nearby bowed their heads as Sylvia passed, silently. They had no expressive faces, but their posture radiated absolute loyalty.

Celes walked slowly beside Sylvia as they entered the castle’s grand hall. Once a command center, now it was nothing more than cracked floors, toppled pillars, and faded wall paintings devoured by mold and time.

Yet even in the wreckage, Sylvia saw potential.

"This room... will become the throne hall," she murmured. "Not for declaring power. But so that those who arrive... will know who sits at the heart of the storm."

"Demon queen, huh?" Celes grinned faintly.

"Queen of the world," Sylvia replied without a smile.

Celes nodded and continued jotting down notes. Behind them, two massive zombies perhaps once minotaurs or half-giant warriors began clearing away the remains of a central column. A faint black aura swirled around their forms, not for control, but to reinforce their frames against collapse as they worked.

Sylvia turned toward a cracked window. In the distance, the fog was thinning, revealing silhouettes of the valley and river that once served as a vital trade route before the race wars destroyed everything. The outside air still carried the scent of scorched earth and hollow wind, but now... there was life. Life in an unconventional form, but loyal nonetheless.

"Celes," she called softly. "What about the western defenses?"

Celes tapped on her glowing metal sheet.

"Three watchtowers can be reactivated. But the foreign magic detection array we’ll have to build that from scratch. I can design a new prototype, but we’ll need purple or pink core crystals. And we only have... two."

"Then we use one for the prototype. Keep the other in the surveillance chamber," Sylvia said, turning toward the eastern wing of the castle. The zombies cleared a path for her immediately.

Behind one of the narrow corridors its walls cracked, the hanging lamps rusted and fallen was the castle’s underground level, a corridor mostly sealed off by debris. Sylvia stopped in front of it, then raised a hand.

A rumble echoed as stones shifted, clouds of dust billowing out. The blocked passage slowly opened, like an old wound forced to reveal itself again. Sylvia’s faint magic light illuminated ancient carvings long buried under moss.

Hours later, signs of rebirth began to show throughout the castle.

Towers that had leaned now stood upright again though still imperfect. Some rooms began to glow, not just with magic, but with the eternal black flame a calm fire that did not burn, but provided warmth and light for the undead.

In the center courtyard, Sylvia stood atop a freshly laid stone floor. Around her, zombies began forming rows. There was no ceremony, no grand spell. Yet when they stood still, it was as if time itself paused to witness.

This was not a castle of darkness. Not a fortress of hell. This was a headquarters an origin point for a world that refused to bow to the heavens.

Sylvia raised her head to the sky. Above, clouds swirled thin cracks visible deep within their folds. Dimensional fractures. Something had changed.

And she knew though no bullets had yet been fired, and no swords drawn the war had already begun.

Night slowly descended, bringing with it a calm that wasn’t entirely peaceful. The sky above the castle was scattered with pale stars, flickering gently through the cracks in the clouds. The mountain wind whispered softly, carrying the scent of old magic and healing earth.

Sylvia sat at the edge of a high balcony, gazing out over the valley below. A cup of black tea steamed gently in her hand a mix of dried leaves and water heated by nether flame, bitter but soothing. In the distance, tiny dots of light from eternal fire began to glow across various corners of the castle, like deathly fireflies guarding new life.

Celes sat beside her, flipping through a notebook with a face far less tense than usual.

"The scouting zombies you sent west haven’t returned. But there’s no sign of magical disturbance from that direction."

"Perhaps they found something big," Sylvia replied without turning. Her eyes remained fixed on the sky. "Or something is waiting."

"If they were attacked?"

"Then the old world hasn’t fully died."

Celes didn’t respond. Only the wind spoke, whispering through the cracks of the ancient stone.

Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the open balcony doors. A zombie dressed in worn leather armor entered with slow but trained movements. His shoulder was half-split, yet it didn’t stop him from bowing in respect.

"Report," he rasped, the words echoing from a decayed throat. "The scouting team in the west... was attacked."

Celes stood immediately, her expression tightening.

"By who?"

"A group of heroes. Four of them. They wield weapons infused with holy magic. Two of our team were destroyed, three retreated to the ruins."

Sylvia didn’t move. Only the wind lifted strands of her long white hair. She took another sip of tea, then placed the cup gently on the stone table.

"Oh..." she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. "So, they’ve begun as well."

Celes stared at her.

"We should—"

"No," Sylvia cut in, gentle but firm. "Let them play their hero games for now. Let them bask in the illusion of victory. Let them feel powerful, feel righteous... feel like this world still belongs to them."

Her gaze turned once more toward the darkening sky.

"A fool who believes they are superior... will always reveal their truest weakness."

Celes exhaled slowly, then sat back down.

"So... we just let them be?"

"We continue building," Sylvia replied, now rising to her feet and looking out over the transforming castle. "They want a performance... then let’s give them a stage worthy of their destruction."

The zombie who had delivered the report bowed once more, then withdrew silently.

And in the distance, the stars continued to shine—as if waiting for the next bloody tale to begin.

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