CHAPTER 191: CHAPTER 191 – THE NIGHT THAT CONNECTS TWO WORLDS

Night slowly descended upon the black castle hidden within eternal fog. The sky was never truly clear in this place, yet the night still held its own nuance: a pressing silence, a coldness that seeped into the bones, and a breeze that always carried the scent of iron and ancient earth.

But from one of the upper floor balconies, that silence felt like a private space of comfort. The balcony, slightly jutting eastward, overlooked a foggy valley where shadows of the undead moved without sound. A magical lantern hung from the stone ceiling, casting pale purple light that swayed gently in the wind.

On a long bench covered in dark fur, Sylvia sat in relaxation.

Her body was draped only in a thin black camisole with barely visible straps and matching black lace underwear that blended with her slender silhouette. Her black hair was tied loosely to the side, part of it falling onto her pale shoulder.

In her hand, a cup of steaming tea glowed greenish, sending up soft wisps of vapor. The scent of mint and night-blooming flowers rose with the breeze, soothing a mind worn out from endless reports and magical seals.

Her dim crimson eyes gazed at the dark sky.

Then, she slowly closed her eyes. In her mind, her thoughts reached out to one presence:

"Zark, are you there?"

It took a few seconds before a deep yet calm and respectful voice answered in her head.

"I hear you, Queen Sylvia. Is there something you wish to know tonight?"

Sylvia smiled faintly, lifted her cup, and took a slow sip before replying.

"Tell me the latest about Nocture... or rather, I should say, the Kingdom of Nocture."

*"Yes, my Queen," Zark responded firmly. "The administrative structure has been reinforced. Lady Sofia has signed all the initial decrees, including territorial divisions, recognition of new noble houses, and the establishment of a basic magic academy. Today marks the third day since the official declaration of the kingdom."

"And the people... how are they reacting?"

*"Eager, but also full of expectations," Zark replied. "Many see you as a symbol of change. Your name is spoken in prayers, even in marketplace conversations. They acknowledge Lady Sofia as the acting ruler, but they await your return."

Sylvia offered a faint smile and asked again.

"Hmm, how many races are there now?"

"There are quite a few, my Queen. Humans, elves, dwarves, beastkin, and of course... zombies. But the zombies here are truly different from the wild ones outside. I’m unsure if it’s your influence... but the zombies here, even the children, appear almost like ordinary humans. Only with pale skin, red eyes... and great strength."

Sylvia fell silent for a moment, gazing up at the sky that seemed somehow farther away than usual.

"And Sofia... how is she?"

Zark’s tone softened slightly, though still formal.

"Lady Sofia... is working hard. Too hard, I’d say. She refuses rest, refuses servant assistance, and spends every night alone on the palace balcony."

Sylvia frowned.

"Still gazing at the sky like before?"

"Every night, my Queen."

The steam from her tea warmed Sylvia’s face as she lowered her head. Among the whispers of the night and the distant sounds of undead, that old longing thickened in her chest again. But she couldn’t afford to falter.

"Zark... please take care of her. And... tell her not to push herself too hard. This isn’t a war she needs to bear alone."

"I will relay your message, my Queen."

Sylvia took another sip of her tea, slower this time. The warmth of the drink did little to chase away the sudden cold creeping into her heart.

The night breeze blew stronger. Sylvia hugged her knees gently, allowing her camisole to flutter slightly in the wind, but she didn’t mind. In this place, no one cared about her attire. Only zombies. Only Celes, who might steal a glance silently but would never pass judgment.

"Zark..."

"Yes, my Queen?"

"Thank you for protecting Nocture. And... take care of Sofia. With everything you have."

"With my life, my Queen."

The telepathic connection slowly faded, leaving Sylvia alone with a cooling cup of tea and a sky that remained ever somber.

Still, she sat there. For a long time. Watching the faint stars barely visible in this otherworldly sky.

"Wait for me, Sofia," she whispered, nearly inaudibly. "When all of this is over... I will come back to you."

And the night continued to drift on in silence and in the hidden loyalty wrapped in fog.

Morning at the Castle

Mist Dawn in this world did not arrive in hues of orange or the chirping of birds. Above the black castle floating amid thick fog, morning light came only as a faint increase in the grayish brightness that never fully chased away the darkness.

The mist still hung over the courtyard like a thick cloak reluctant to be lifted. Frost clung to the old leaves and dripped slowly from stone gargoyles lining the tower walls. The air remained cold, not biting, but clinging like damp skin that refused to dry.

Inside the castle, the corridors gradually filled with the sound of the patrol undead’s footsteps moving through the main halls. They did not need sleep, nor breakfast. Yet routine was still carried out, as if Sylvia herself had taught them the meaning of order even if they didn’t fully understand it.

In the queen’s private chamber, the pale violet glow of ceiling crystals slowly faded, replaced by the white-blue light of the time-adjustment spell. A simple system Celes had set up so the rhythm of the day could still be felt.

Sylvia was still in her bed.

Her thin camisole was wrinkled, partly shifted aside, revealing her slim stomach rising and falling with steady breaths. Her hair was scattered across the pillow, a few strands sticking to the pale cheek warmed by thick blankets. She seemed to be dreaming, but her eyes slowly opened... their red glow dimly flickering with awareness.

"...Morning already?"

Her breathy voice was more of a whisper to herself. She stretched slowly, and as with the night before, paid no mind to her camisole slipping a bit too low. There was nothing she needed to hide in this castle, not from the undead, not from Celes.

A soft knock came at the door.

Tok... tok.

"Come in," Sylvia said, sitting up and reaching for the long black robe hanging at her bedside.

The door opened, and Celes entered, her silver hair tied neatly as always, though the tiredness in her eyes showed she too had slept late the night before.

"I’ve prepared the morning report and a light breakfast... though it’s just warm tea and buttered bread," she said quietly.

Sylvia gave a faint smile. "That’s more than enough. Thank you, Celes."

Soon, the two of them sat in a small nook near the window in Sylvia’s room. The air was still cold, but the window was tightly shut. A small wooden table between them held two cups of tea and a small plate of toasted bread, layered with black honey and salty butter from the castle’s underground stores.

"I spoke with Zark last night," Sylvia said, sipping her tea.

Celes nodded. "I figured. You seem... calmer."

"A little. But the longing is still there." Her eyes turned to the fog-covered window. "Sofia keeps pushing herself, he said. Even Zark is starting to worry."

"She’s trying to be your shadow," Celes replied gently. "Maybe that’s her way of surviving... without your presence there."

Sylvia fell silent. The steam from her tea danced in the air like memories left unspoken.

"Celes... we have to accelerate this place’s development."

"I know. But we’re short on people. Valnark is too limited in function, and the troops don’t have stable personalities yet. Even yesterday’s Rank Two mage trial led nowhere. They lose direction without direct orders."

Sylvia looked out the window again, this time with sharper eyes.

"Then we have to create that direction for them. Starting today... we’ll form a training unit. Begin from the most basic level. Create roles. Force function. I don’t need them perfect, I need them to grow."

"And who will lead them?" Celes asked seriously.

Sylvia stood, tying her hair back with a black ribbon, her eyes glowing coldly.

"I will."

With swift yet graceful steps, Sylvia strode through the castle’s main corridor toward the training grounds. Her black cloak billowed lightly behind her, each footfall echoing softly against the cold stone floor. The zombies standing in formation across the training yard immediately turned to look, though without sound or notable expression. They merely... waited.

Without many words, Sylvia raised her hand, and a magic circle of bluish-green hue formed in the air. The spell wasn’t meant to attack, it was to synchronize, to strengthen the soul resonance lingering within these undead bodies.

"Listen... Listen deeply," she whispered.

Small crystals glowed around the arena, pulsing with light like a heartbeat. Some zombies wavered slightly, their heads twitching. A few gripped their weapons tighter, and one or two even adjusted their stance.

Sylvia watched the results with a neutral expression, but in her heart, she knew: this was the first step. If this process was repeated with consistency and care, they could grow. Not as quickly as the Nocture troops, but enough to form a foundation.

After ensuring the magic circle remained active and the resonance formation properly embedded, she left the training ground and returned to her study.

As she opened the door, her eyes immediately caught sight of a red-haired figure standing before the document-cluttered desk.

Aurelia.

Her posture was as firm as ever, her white coat slightly dirtied by travel dust, and her long magic staff leaned against the side of the desk. But her face usually full of confidence now appeared tense. Her sharp eyes glanced briefly at Sylvia before returning to the scroll in her hand.

"Lady Sylvia," she greeted, her voice low but taut. "We have a big problem... bigger than you think."

Sylvia quietly closed the door behind her. "Welcome back, Aurelia. Tell me everything."

Aurelia bit her lip briefly, then laid a scroll with a seal from the human territories onto the desk.

"I found something... about the heroes. And about what they opened... back then."

The atmosphere in the room suddenly turned colder than before.