I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 143 – The Bitter Taste After Victory

The battlefield had fallen silent.

No more explosions. No more roars.

Only the remnants of devastation whispering stories of the great battle that had just ended.

The ground was blackened, full of scorched craters and broken bones. Some corpses still smoked from charred limbs. The purple mist slowly faded, replaced by a cold wind that carried the scent of iron, blood, and magic. The sky remained gray but now it was quiet. Too quiet.

Sylvia’s army, who had just fought to their last drop of blood, began to move slowly. They were not humans who would cry or cheer triumphantly, nor monsters who would dance on their enemies’ corpses. They were creatures of war humans and Zombies now united under one banner. And as always after a battle, they began to tidy up.

Rank two and three zombies gathered weapons, reassembled shields, and reformed formations for the journey home. The humans erected makeshift tents to tend the wounded and compile reports. Zombie Beastkin units with sharp ears and noses swept the area, ensuring no enemy played dead.

Zark walked slowly through the crater left by Sofia’s attack. His eyes were sharp, measuring the destruction, then recalculating the fallen and survivors.

"Twenty-three dead... eighty-one seriously or moderately injured... not bad, but far from ideal," he muttered.

A few zombie mages passed behind him carrying mana pouches. Zark gave them a silent nod to continue.

Up in the sky, Sylvia still sat atop her zombie dragon but she was not alone.

Sofia now leaned against her side, her body weary but warm, her back resting against Sylvia’s chest. Her hair was still messy, magical dust clinging to her skin, and her hands bore the faint red burn from her holy spear’s blast.

Sylvia embraced her from behind, chin resting on Sofia’s shoulder. Both of their eyes gazed downward. No words. Only silence. Drinking in the atmosphere. Feeling the void. ƒreewebɳovel.com

"It feels like... we were left on stage before the show could end," Sofia murmured softly.

Sylvia sighed. "This was supposed to be a grand battle. I prepared everything. Troops, strategy, even you—" She turned slightly, planting a kiss on Sofia’s forehead. "—with your amazing new holy spear."

Sofia smiled faintly, but dissatisfaction still lingered on her face."I wanted to finish it. Right there. When he appeared on that balcony. But he vanished... like he just came to say ’see you next time’ and then fled like a coward."

Sylvia tightened her grip on Sofia’s hand. "Next time... if he appears again, there won’t be a next time. I’ll strike first. I won’t wait again," Sylvia said, her voice cold.

Below them, the army began retreating from the battlefield. Some carried the bodies of fallen comrades, placing them into enchanted coffins for proper military rites back at the castle. Others dragged large shields or secured binding spells on the captured feral zombies.

But one thing was clear: no one looked satisfied. Yes, they had won. But it felt hollow. Incomplete. Like drawing your sword only to realize the true enemy hadn’t even arrived yet.

Some human soldiers were overheard grumbling:

"We could’ve crushed them if he hadn’t run."

"I thought we’d see the queen cut off his head herself."

"But instead he played hide and seek."

The complaints weren’t loud, but they spread like dust in the wind. Even the zombies usually emotionless followers moved with a kind of restless energy. They carried gear too quickly. Marched back to formation too harshly.

Zark noticed it all with a sharp eye. Then looked up, toward Sylvia and Sofia.

He knew: his troops needed direction now. Closure. Certainty. But the queen remained silent.

Until finally, Sylvia spoke without changing her posture.

"Bring everyone back to the castle. Sort the casualties. Secure the area. Leave three scouting units for night patrol. I’ll return later."

Zark bowed. "As you command, Your Majesty. "He leapt down from a tall stone and cast a voice spell across the field.

"Troops! Time to return. Defensive retreat formation. Raise protection spells and leave no comrade behind!"

The soldiers moved. Formations reassembled. The remaining mist drifted away slowly. The once hellish battlefield now resembled a great dead beast sinking into the mud of time.

Atop the dragon, Sofia stirred slightly in Sylvia’s embrace. "You sure you won’t return with them?"

"I want to stay here... just a bit longer. To make sure nothing was left behind. Or... in case he left something."

Sofia turned to her. "Something like... a trap?"

"Maybe. Or a message. That last king has strange motives. Not just power. There’s obsession. I still can’t grasp his mind."

Sofia inhaled deeply. "He called you ’my queen.’ You think he... meant it?"

Sylvia didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stared at the balcony where the zombie king had vanished. "I don’t know," she said at last. "But whatever his goal is... if he starts to move against the current..."

Her voice sharpened, cold— cold as a sky that rejects light.

"...we will eradicate him."

The dragon flew slowly through the gray sky.

IWings beat in a lazy rhythm, like a giant bird no longer hunted by time. The purple mist trailed behind them, torn apart by the wind. Sylvia and Sofia sat quietly on its back, letting the night air wash over their faces and hair.

They didn’t return to the city right away. Didn’t want to. Weren’t ready. Too much rage still burned. Too much burden left unspent on the battlefield.

"A journey without a destination..." Sofia murmured, resting her head on Sylvia’s shoulder. "This might be the first time we’ve done this."

Sylvia nodded slowly, her gaze sweeping the vast land below. Mountains in the distance looked like frozen coal. Dried valleys yawned like the world’s unhealed wounds. And among it all, their dragon exhaled.

FWOOSH.

A tongue of purple flame scorched dead undergrowth, creating a slow-spreading sea of embers. In the distance, small human camps or unknown survivors were instantly incinerated—no mercy.

Sofia looked back at the trail of fire left behind.

"...He’s upset, isn’t he?"

Sylvia nodded lightly. "He reflects my mood. But with a more... direct approach."

There was no laughter between them only silent understanding. They knew, down below, there might be people watching the purple dragon cut across the sky and thinking the apocalypse had returned. Maybe they weren’t wrong.

Sylvia looked down and said softly,

"Let them fear."

Sofia glanced at her, waiting for more. But what followed was only long silence.

On the horizon, the sky began to darken. Not quite night, but not day either. No stars. Only clouds and ash from a war burned by dragonfire. The world below seemed small and fragile from up here. nd in that silence, Sylvia finally spoke again.

"I’m sick of... victories being stolen from me like that. Of something I planned, baited, and designed perfectly... disappearing in a coward’s moment."

Sofia gently gripped her arm. "But our troops still won. They saw you. They saw us. That hasn’t vanished."

"Not enough." Sylvia shook her head.

"I want more than to be seen. I want the world to kneel. I want... an undeniable acknowledgment. That you and I— aren’t just victors. We’re rulers."

They flew over another burning forest. Again, the dragon’s breath swept through dry trees and fleeing beasts. Fire spread swiftly, drawing red lines like blood across the canvas of the world.

Sofia inhaled the scent of smoke.

"Sometimes, I think... this doesn’t feel like a world we’re meant to save. But more like one that has to be burned first... then rebuilt."

Sylvia turned slowly, looking at her lover.

"That might be the most romantic thing you’ve said all week."

Sofia chuckled softly and for the first time since the battle, a genuine smile bloomed between them. But far below, faint screams echoed. It was unclear if they were humans burning... or just ghostly echoes from the ruins of the old world.

They didn’t stop. They didn’t look back.

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