I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 153 – The Gate of Diplomacy and the Shadows Behind Promises

Chapter 153: Chapter 153 – The Gate of Diplomacy and the Shadows Behind Promises

Heavy but measured footsteps echoed from the direction of the valley as the forces of the Allied Races approached. Morning mist still clung to the ground when tall silhouettes emerged from behind the hill crests. They came in orderly formations banners bearing dragons, eagles, and crescent moons fluttered in the wind. Some rode armored horses, while others floated lightly above the ground using levitation magic.

But not a single one of them crossed into Sylvia’s domain. The moment a foot neared the border of her land, the air changed cold, silent, and leaving a metallic chill crawling up the neck.

Atop the main fortress, Varnak stood tall. His massive form cast a shadow over the tower edge, his weapon embedded in the stone floor, and his blazing red eyes fixed unblinkingly on the uninvited guests. The other zombie guards lined the walls like statues of death still and silent, but radiating an unseen pressure that pierced straight to the bone.

Meanwhile, inside the newly rebuilt castle, Sylvia strolled leisurely through the hallway. She wore a long black gown with violet accents on the shoulders, trailing softly with every step. No crown adorned her head only a black crystal hairpin. In her left hand, a steaming cup of tea; in her right, a rolled-up report.

At the entrance of the audience chamber, Celes waited, holding the latest intelligence from the scouts.

"They’ve brought two main representatives," reported Celes. "One is a high elf from the central forest Lyshanara. The other... a nobleman from the far east. Name undisclosed, but he wears a golden sun-red pendant. High blood symbol."

Sylvia nodded slightly. "So they sent one ancient tree full of pride and one human with an ego taller than my towers. Interesting."

"They’ve also brought eight heavily armed escorts."

"No peace mission starts with eight weapons," Sylvia said lightly.

She opened the door to the meeting hall a circular chamber with a large stone table at the center and skull-carved chairs around it. Purple flames flickered in the wall sconces, giving the room an eerie glow more suited for summoning rituals than diplomacy.

Sylvia sat at the main seat. Celes stood beside her. The floor began to rumble slightly a sign the guests had been received by the guards.

"Let them in," Sylvia ordered. "But make sure of one thing."

Celes glanced at her. "What’s that?"

"None of them should feel safe in here."

The grand doors opened. The scent of dust and grass from the outside was quickly swallowed by the castle’s cold, oppressive air. Two main figures stepped inside.

Lyshanara tall, graceful, with long silver hair and eyes sharp like a nocturnal bird’s entered first. Beside her walked the nobleman in blood-red attire, his steps bold, as if trying to project courage with every motion.

Their eight escorts remained at the threshold, denied further entry. The gaze of the zombie guards pinned them where they stood.

"Queen Sylvia," Lyshanara greeted, calm yet sharp. "We come representing the Allied Races. The world has changed greatly since the third wave. We are here... to discuss new borders."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "New borders? You come with war attire, banners, and blades... to talk about lines?"

"Precaution," the nobleman replied. "Your territory grows too fast. And you remain too silent. Silence that... frightens."

Sylvia smiled not warmly. "Frightening because I don’t speak... or because I didn’t ask for permission?"

Neither answered right away. The tension hung in the air like invisible fog.

Lyshanara continued, "We do not come to threaten. But your power spreads like the roots of a black tree quiet, yet consuming. We simply wish to know: do you still consider yourself part of this world?"

"Me?" Sylvia tilted her head. "Maybe."

The nobleman scoffed. "Classic answer."

Lyshanara spoke again. "We know you can destroy cities. But that doesn’t make you right. This world has a history. You can’t erase everything."

"I don’t intend to erase," Sylvia whispered. "I just want to write a new Chapter. And if you refuse to read it... I have no issue making it your tombstone."

Celes cleared her throat, trying to ease the atmosphere. "Perhaps we can start with something concrete. What does the Allied Races truly want?"

The nobleman lowered his voice. "We want an agreement. That you will no longer spread zombies. That Nocture will not open gateways to other worlds. And that you will not oppose the decisions of the Holy Central Council."

Sylvia chuckled quietly. "An agreement? Do you realize who you’re speaking to?"

Lyshanara closed her eyes. "We want to avoid war. But if necessary—"

"If necessary," Sylvia cut in, her voice descending to a chill, "you will lose more than just forests. Because for the first time, the dead do not fear your fire."

She rose to her feet, meeting their eyes one by one.

"I will not sign any treaty forged from fear. If you seek peace, come as guests. But if your intent is control and threats, then you’ll become part of my history not as authors... but as casualties."

They exchanged glances.

Finally, Lyshanara spoke. "We will relay your words to the central council. But... I hope you know what you’re building."

Sylvia stepped one pace closer. "Of course. I’m building the future."

Afte r they departed, silence returned to the hall.

Sylvia sat again. Her breath steady, but her eyes still burned sharp.

Celes approached. "You know they’ll start planning to bring you down."

"Of course," Sylvia replied. "And I’ll let them. Because no strategy will hold... once they realize this world is no longer ruled by light."

She sipped her now-cold tea.

"Call in all zombies outside. Tell them reconnaissance phase is over. We move now... slowly. But surely."

Celes nodded and exited the chamber.

Alone again, Sylvia stood and walked to the tall window.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the throne room shifted. The air, previously stiff and silent, was now filled with something different a warmth not from fire, but from a subtle pulse that seeped into every stone, every shadow, even into the cold teacup in Sylvia’s hand. Life energy. Not magic, not aura, but something more ancient. Sylvia knew instantly. She’s here again.

Without turning, Sylvia closed her eyes briefly and spoke in a flat tone, "What is it this time, World Avatar?"

A soft laugh echoed from the corner of the room. There were no footsteps, no creaking doors but now, sitting on the stone chair across the table, was a woman with green hair that glowed faintly like leaves under moonlight. Her clothes were simple, yet her presence seemed to rearrange reality itself around her blending into the room as though she belonged to it.

"Oh come on," she said with a teasing smile. "Don’t be so cold. I know your true nature is a little... ridiculous."

"WHO’S RIDICULOUS?!" Sylvia snapped, turning around, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Not out of anger, but because the jab had struck far too close to the truth.

The World Avatar giggled, crossing her legs and reclining into the chair, which had suddenly transformed into a moss-covered throne. "See? There it is. The zombie queen who could freeze anyone’s heart, but flusters at a single tease."

Sylvia turned away, pretending to sip her now-cold tea. "If you’re here just to annoy me, I’ll throw you to the dungeon and—"

"You can’t," the Avatar cut in casually. "You know very well I’m a part of this world itself. I didn’t come just to play. Well... maybe half to play."

Sylvia sighed. "So what now? I’m already in your world. I’ve raised a castle, revived an army, even stirred the gods into unease. What else do you want from me?"

The Avatar stood and walked slowly around the room, her fingers brushing the stone pillars causing moss and vines to grow instantly where she touched. "This world... has started to react. You’ve moved something far greater than war or undead resurrection. You’ve shifted the balance. That’s good."

"But?" Sylvia asked, eyes narrowing.

"But... the gods haven’t struck yet because they’re still arguing over who should face you first. You’re not just a threat you’re an exception to the system. And that makes you dangerous."

Sylvia leaned back, her finger idly tracing the cup’s handle. "I expected as much. They always fear what they can’t control."

"Exactly." The Avatar met her gaze. "But you should know something, Sylvia. They won’t come one by one. They’ll come together. And when that moment arrives, all your preparations must go beyond zombies and a grand castle."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "You’re suggesting...?"

"Alliances. Or at least, neutrality from the surrounding world. The other cities, the races who are still quiet. If you can make them not side with the gods, that’s enough."

"Political bargaining. Disgusting," Sylvia muttered.

"That’s how the world works, even one like me," the Avatar laughed.

Sylvia looked at her for a moment. "You still haven’t told me your full reason. You want me to be this world’s Demon Lord. But why? Is it truly just to destroy the gods’ system?"

The World Avatar fell silent. The glow in her eyes dimmed slightly."Partly, yes. But... another part is because this world is tired."

"Tired?"

"Yes. Tired of watching its children turned into pawns by beings who call themselves divine. Tired of seeing life shaped by destinies forged by observers, not by the ones who actually live it. I want this world to have a ruler who forces change. And I chose you."

Sylvia turned her gaze to the window, where morning light slowly revealed the gray-and-purple expanse of her land."Then prepare your world. Because the next Chapter... will be bloody."

The Avatar smiled. "I’ll be on your side. And if one day you need direct help... just call me through wounded earth."

She then turned, walking toward a faint glow appearing on the wall, and before vanishing, she waved her small hand."Oh and don’t be so serious, Sylvia. You’re far prettier when you’re annoyed."

Sylvia immediately threw a pillow at the light, but it hit only empty air.Silence reclaimed the room.

She exhaled deeply, then stood.

"Celes... prepare a message for the leaders of the smaller surrounding cities who do not believe in or have faith in the gods. I want to begin diplomacy... before the gods drop the sky on my head."

From outside the door, Celes’ voice replied, "Already noted. And... I heard that throw landed perfectly, as always."

Sylvia pouted. "You were eavesdropping too?"

"I was just... in a strategic position."

And Sylvia could only shake her head. The world may be on the verge of collapse but beneath all the shadows and omens, sometimes a little laughter could be the best shield of all. novelbuddy-cσ๓

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