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.