CHAPTER 267: CHAPTER 263 – SPRING BENEATH THE NEW LIGHT

The skies of that world had finally cleared.

After weeks of being veiled in gray clouds and the lingering mist of war, the sun appeared, hesitant at first, peeking between soft white clouds. Its light was gentle, as if it understood that in this world, darkness was not meant to be erased but balanced.

From a black stone balcony carved with intricate patterns, Sylvia sat quietly, her back resting against a chair lined with deep violet fabric. Before her, a cup of warm tea released a thin wisp of steam, carrying the delicate scent of mirtha leaves and luneveil blossoms, her favorite morning blend.

The steam drifted lazily into the tender spring breeze that had only just returned.

She lifted the cup slowly.

From the silver-rimmed black porcelain, the tea’s warmth touched her tongue, a little bitter, but soothing. Her gaze fell to the courtyard below, where her soldiers were training. The sight lightened her chest in a way she could not quite explain.

Hundreds of zombies stood in formation, their weapons once rusted but now sharpened. Their movements were rigid yet synchronized. To the side, dark elves oversaw magical drills, while several ogres watched from the edges, laughing heartily each time an undead stumbled and hit itself with its own sword.

Meanwhile, the sunlight remained soft, warm enough to brighten the stones but not enough to draw the vampires out of their chambers. They never changed.

Sylvia smiled faintly.

"Still as arrogant as ever," she murmured, half amused with herself.

She knew well how difficult it was to command vampires. They had always considered themselves the highest among creatures of darkness. They respected her as their queen, yes, but never without pride. And honestly, Sylvia had no intention of changing that. Arrogance could be useful; sometimes, pride was what kept dignity alive.

Down below, the zombies continued their drills.

Their guttural shouts rose in an uneven rhythm, not from command, but from something closer to determination. They knew their queen had fallen in battle because she sacrificed everything to protect them. And for beings who knew neither fear nor death, that was reason enough to fight harder.

Sylvia watched them for a long time.

There was something there, not just pride, but a warmth she couldn’t quite name.

She sighed softly and turned her eyes toward the distant horizon, where the dark forest was beginning to take on a pale green hue.

"Spring... already," she whispered.

It had been so long since she’d experienced the change of seasons in peace like this.

.....

Her body had recovered considerably, though every movement still left her slightly dizzy. The castle’s physicians, along with Stacia, had forbidden her from walking too far, so this balcony was her compromise, a place that overlooked the training grounds.

She didn’t mind.

From here, she could see the entire castle while still enjoying the quiet that allowed her thoughts to rest.

Closing her eyes, she let the breeze brush gently against her face. The air felt fresher than before, perhaps because of the lingering effect of the Phantom Bloom she once used. The flowers from the underworld absorbed negative energy, leaving behind a faint scent that reminded her of soil, rain, and memory.

A small smile curved her lips.

"At least the world doesn’t hate me... not yet."

She took another sip of tea.

Her thoughts drifted far away to another world, to her old castle on Earth, where the city she had built from ruins still stood.

It had been a long time since she’d heard any news from there.

Normally, Zark would reach out through telepathy, sending her reports about Sofia and the state of Nocture. But lately, there have been no messages at all.

Sylvia knew the reason. It wasn’t because of trouble, but because they both understood that she needed rest.

And strangely, she wasn’t worried.

"Zark and Sofia," she murmured, gazing at the pale-blue sky, "they’ll manage things well. I trust them."

For a brief moment, Sofia’s face flashed in her mind the girl’s gentle smile, her sharp yet kind eyes, the steady tone she always used during meetings. Then came Zark’s, calm and collected, yet harboring that cold fury deep inside.

Those two were perhaps the only reasons Sylvia still believed the human world was worth saving.

She chuckled quietly. "If they heard me now, they’d probably say I sound like an old woman."

.....

Soft footsteps echoed from the door behind her.

Sylvia didn’t need to turn; she already knew who it was. Their auras were too familiar, one calm and fluid like water, the other warm and steady like light.

"Sylvia, it’s time for lunch," came Alicia’s soft voice.

Sylvia turned slowly, seeing the two girls.

Alicia carried a silver tray with roasted meat and soft bread, while Stacia held a teapot, steam curling gracefully from its spout.

"I told you, I’m not a patient," Sylvia said with a small smile.

"You’re a stubborn patient," Stacia replied flatly.

Her tone was calm, but the careful way she poured the tea betrayed her worry. "Your body just crossed the line between life and death, Sylvia. One wrong move, and I’ll have to stitch your soul back into your body."

Sylvia chuckled. "You always make threats sound gentle."

Alicia set the tray on the small table and sat in the chair opposite her.

"You look better today," she said, glancing up at the sky. "Your skin isn’t as pale as parchment anymore."

"Really?" Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it’s the sunlight."

She looked toward the sky above. "It’s soft here. Not like in the other world."

Alicia nodded, nibbling a piece of bread. "I like it here. It feels peaceful, though..."

She looked toward the training grounds below.

"...a bit too noisy."

Sylvia laughed quietly. "Let them be. They’re trying."

"Yes, but look at that," Stacia said, pointing to one undead smacking itself with its own shield. "That’s not training. That’s suffering."

"Suffering is the most honest form of training," Sylvia replied lightly, not even glancing down.

Alicia tried to hold back a giggle. "You’re starting to sound like an old mentor, my Queen."

"Because I’ve lived too long," Sylvia answered, amused.

A brief silence followed.

Only the sound of the wind and the clatter of metal from the courtyard filled the air.

After a moment, Sylvia asked quietly, "Has Velthya returned?"

"Yes," Stacia said. "She came back with her troops three days ago. Her wounds have healed, but she couldn’t stay long. There’s too much waiting for her as the new queen."

"That’s fair," Sylvia nodded. "Being a queen isn’t a burden one can share."

Alicia hesitated, then smiled faintly. "She left a message for you."

Sylvia looked at her. "A message?"

Alicia nodded. "She said this world still has many seasons you haven’t seen together."

Sylvia fell silent.

A small, gentle smile touched her lips, though her eyes dimmed slightly. "That sounds just like her."

.....

The wind grew stronger, making Sylvia’s black hair ripple in the afternoon light.

A small purple flower in a pot beside her swayed gently, its glow reminiscent of the Phantom Bloom. Sylvia’s gaze softened as she looked at it.

"Goddess Persephone," she whispered, "you were right. Life isn’t just about battles."

Alicia and Stacia exchanged a look but said nothing.

Sylvia finished her tea and set the cup down.

"It’s time I stopped seeing the world as something to survive," she said quietly, almost to herself. "Maybe... this time, I’ll try to live for real."

The sky above the castle shifted from pale blue to soft orange. Black birds flew past, their shadows gliding over the stone towers below.

The undead soldiers had stopped their drills and turned toward the balcony. No one gave them an order, yet all of them looked up in silence, drawn by instinct alone.

Even without moving, their Queen’s presence made the air itself tremble faintly.

Alicia smiled softly. "A strange spring, isn’t it?"

Stacia nodded. "Yes... but beautiful."

Sylvia only gazed toward the horizon, her eyes calm yet filled with a quiet warmth, something fragile, like a flower waiting to bloom within the shadows.

Spring had come.

And beneath its gentle light, the world was already turning toward a new Chapter, one that none of them could yet understand.

.....

In Another World The One Once Known as Earth

The spring wind drifted softly over the city of Nocture. The air carried a mingled fragrance of flowers, metal, oil, and magic. The city was alive, vibrant, and pulsing with a rhythm unlike any other human settlement.

At its heart, black buildings coated in energy crystals rose proudly, absorbing sunlight and scattering it in shimmering shades of violet.

The streets were filled with humans, dark elves, beastkin, and even a few zombies walking peacefully among them.No screams and fear. Only the hum of disciplined life is structured, yet warm.

Inside the castle, Sofia stood before a tall window, gazing upon the city now under her care. Her blue eyes reflected the glow of daylight, though her face showed the fatigue she could no longer hide.

Stacks of documents covered her desk: construction reports, production summaries, hunter-unit briefings, and the most recent readings of new portal activity emerging across the world.

"The latest report from the northern district, Lady Sofia," said a dark elf secretary, placing a sheet of parchment on her desk. "Population has increased by three percent, and the harvest of energy crops is proceeding smoothly."

Sofia nodded without turning. "Make sure the distribution remains steady. Don’t repeat last month’s mistake. This city is no longer a place to survive. We’re building a future."

The dark elf bowed and left quietly.

When the door closed, Sofia exhaled deeply and leaned back in her chair.

Her eyes drifted toward Nocture’s brightening sky. White clouds moved lazily, and sunlight filtered between the black spires, scattering silver light over their surfaces.

"Spring," she murmured. "It’s finally here."

Once, such a season had not existed. The sky had been eternally gray, the ground soaked with blood and dust.

But since the end of the Zombie Apocalypse and the world’s adaptation to magic, Earth has changed.

Not restored to what it once was, but reborn as something entirely new, something alive.

Humanity had evolved, gaining innate powers, a kind of mutation born from survival.

Small portals to other worlds appeared across the planet, bringing monsters, artifacts, and sometimes even foreign races who chose to live among humans.

Though chaos had come with it, humanity adapted.

Among all great cities, Nocture stood as the most stable. Ironically, it was ruled by a zombie. And not just any zombie Sylvia, the Queen of Death.

Sofia’s gaze fell upon a framed photograph in the corner of her desk. It was an old picture of Sylvia and herself, taken during the city’s early days.

Sylvia was smiling faintly, holding a teacup on a balcony, while Sofia stood beside her with her usual serious expression.

A soft smile touched Sofia’s lips.

"If you could see this now, Sylvia... you’d probably be upset that everything’s running too perfectly without you."

She stood, straightened her jacket, and walked to the window.

In the distance, the Hunter Guild Headquarters towered over the city five stories high, marked with the sigil of a chain and sword upon its doors.

People came and went, carrying weapons and glowing crystals harvested from hunts. That guild had become the heartbeat of the new world’s economy.

At its top floor sat a pale-skinned man with calm gray eyes Zark, the Guild Master, a zombie like his Queen.

Sofia let out another sigh, though this time there was relief in it.

"Even without our Queen, Nocture still stands," she said softly. "Zark keeps the hunters in line. I keep the city running. The world has finally started to believe in us."

Outside, a great bell rang, signaling midday in Nocture. Its tone echoed through the streets, mingling with children’s laughter and the lively calls of merchants in the market.

Spring had come, even for a world that had once been dead. And though their Queen now lived in another realm, her presence lingered still in every gust of wind, in every blooming flower, and in every soul brave enough to live again.