I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 379 - 375 – The Unexpected Trace

They stepped deeper into the heart of Ironvale, along the wide stone road that split the city into two main sections. On the left and right stood rows of two-story houses, dark wooden walls mixed with obsidian panels that reflected the overcast light with a faint gleam like oil on water. Slanted roofs covered in black tiles still damp from morning dew occasionally dripped small beads of water that formed puddles on the stone sidewalks. The air here felt warmer than in Grayroot Valley not because of the sun, but from the hundreds of glowing forges and fireplaces in the small workshops, and the smoke rising continuously from food stalls.

The central market was the throbbing pulse of the city. Stalls lined up to form narrow, winding lanes, with thick canopies in deep red, dark blue, and moss-green hanging low to shelter merchants and buyers from the occasional light drizzle that fell without warning. Sounds blended into a living symphony: merchants shouting over one another, the ringing of hammers from the crystal-iron workshops at the eastern end, children’s laughter as they darted through the crowd, and the occasional whinny of fused wild horses flicking their tails while pulling wooden carts loaded with goods.

Sofia walked ahead, her steps light and full of energy. Her eyes darted nonstop from one stall to the next. "Sylvia, look at this! Small energy crystals the size of chicken eggs, colored ice-blue! They say you can use them to light lamps without fire for days."

Sylvia gave a small nod, her eyes remaining vigilant even though her expression stayed calm. The Chain of Abyss on her wrist was still silent, but she knew a city this size always hid unseen eyes or petty thieves. Noir on her shoulder rumbled softly whenever anyone came too close, his damp black scales gleaming faintly in the dim light.

They stopped at the jewelry stall Sofia had spotted earlier. An old woman with white hair tied back by a red cloth was arranging necklaces made from shards of purple snow crystal, not ordinary snow, but natural ice crystals formed on the mountain peaks after the fusion. Each piece had been polished until it sparkled like a gem, hung on thin silver chains etched with simple rune patterns.

"Welcome, ladies," the old woman greeted them, her voice hoarse but warm. "Purple snow crystals from the northern peaks. They can calm the mind when worn as a pendant. Perfect for those who travel far."

Sofia stepped closer immediately, her finger touching one of the teardrop-shaped frozen pendants. "It’s so beautiful... How much, Ma’am?"

"For the two of you who arrived with that cute little dragon, just three silver coins and one wild apple from your bag," the old woman replied with a smile, her eyes twinkling toward Noir who was sniffing the air.

Sofia laughed softly. "Deal!" She took out coins from her cloak pocket and handed over one wild apple from Mira’s provisions. The old woman accepted it happily, wrapped the ice-blue pendant in a small velvet cloth, and gave it to Sofia.

Sylvia looked at the pendant for a moment. "Can it calm the mind?"

"That’s right, Lady in Black," the old woman answered. "Not powerful magic, but the vibration is gentle. Suitable for those carrying heavy burdens in their hearts."

Sylvia didn’t reply, but her eyes softened slightly. Sofia immediately put the pendant around her own neck, smiling widely. "Thank you, Ma’am! If we pass through again, we’ll stop by!"

They continued on. Sofia couldn’t stay still. She paused at the woven-cloth stall, touching the dark-rainbow fabric made from soft mountain-goat wool warm, waterproof. Then she moved to the wild-mushroom stall: there were faintly glowing mushrooms called "night lamps," red mushrooms poisonous if eaten raw but medicinal for fever when boiled correctly, and large white mushrooms that tasted like smoked meat.

In the middle of the market, an old-book stall made Sofia stop for a long time. A rickety wooden table was piled with stacks of worn leather books, yellowed parchment scrolls, and a few simple printed books from the newly emerged crystal printing machines of the last few years. The owner, a thin man in his forties with cracked round glasses, was reading a thick book while occasionally yawning.

"Good afternoon," Sofia greeted him warmly. "Do you have any ancient books?"

The man looked up, narrowing his eyes at Noir on Sylvia’s shoulder. "A zombie dragon... rare to see one this tame. For ancient books, here’s one." He pulled out a thick volume. The leather cover was cracked, but the pages were intact. "This is the original notebook of an alchemist from Ironvale. Five silver coins."

Sofia looked at Sylvia with pleading eyes. Sylvia let out a soft sigh and took out coins from her cloak pocket. "Take it."

Sofia cheered quietly. "Thanks, Sylvia! Tonight I’ll read it with you, okay?"

They kept walking. The deeper into the market, the busier it became. There was a small performance: a fire dancer twirling torches lit by tiny fire crystals, her movements nimble to the rhythm of a skin drum played by a young man beside her. Spectators tossed copper coins into an old hat on the ground. Sofia clapped along, eyes sparkling.

But behind the bustle, Sylvia began to sense something. Not an immediate threat the Chain of Abyss was still silent but eyes. Several people watched them longer than usual. Not because of Noir, but because of Sylvia’s black cloak and Sofia’s striking golden hair among the locals who mostly wore dark woven cloth and thick leather.

They turned into a quieter alley, heading toward the workshop area. Here the sound of hammers was louder, sparks flying from open forges. A muscular blacksmith was forging a sword with a blue crystal in the hilt, a crystal weapon that could channel fusion energy. Black smoke mixed with the scent of hot metal and lubricating oil.

Sofia approached cautiously. "Excuse me, sir. If there’s a damaged crystal weapon, can it be repaired here?"

The blacksmith nodded without stopping his hammering. "Yes. But the queue is long. Come back tomorrow morning. Or if it’s urgent, there’s a small workshop in the back alley run by a young man named Riven. He’s fast, but expensive."

Sylvia gave a small nod. "Thank you."

They walked to the back alley mentioned. The alley was narrow, its walls rough obsidian stone, but at the end stood a wooden door with a small sign: "Riven’s Workshop – Crystal & Weapon Repair." From inside came the sound of scraping metal and hissing steam.

Sofia knocked. Soon the door opened. A young man around twenty-five appeared with messy black hair, hands stained with oil, sharp green eyes. Around his neck hung a chain with a small glowing crystal shard.

"Yes?" he asked curtly.

"We heard you can repair crystal weapons," Sofia said politely. "We have... a small dagger that’s slightly damaged."

Sylvia took out the short dagger from her belt; the blade had a thin crack near the base, the energy crystal in the hilt dim. Riven took it and examined it quickly.

"I can. Two gold coins. Done by this evening."

Sofia was surprised. "That’s expensive..."

"The crystal is rare. Needs imported materials from the northern mountains," Riven answered flatly. "Or you can wait in the big workshop’s queue for three days, one gold coin."

Sylvia looked at Sofia, then nodded. "Fine. We’ll take it."

Riven nodded, then stared at Noir longer. "That dragon... isn’t an ordinary zombie. Its undead aura is stable. Where are you really from?"

Sylvia stared at him sharply. "Just passing through."

Riven shrugged. "Not my business. Pick up the weapon this evening. Don’t be late, I close at six."

They left the alley. Sofia sighed. "He’s a bit cold... but he seems skilled."

Sylvia didn’t reply. Her eyes narrowed toward the crowd at the end of the alley. A man in a gray robe stood motionless, watching them. The moment Sylvia looked back, the man turned and vanished into a side lane.

"Is he following us?" Sofia asked quietly.

"Maybe," Sylvia answered. "Let’s find an inn first. Rest, then pick up the weapon."

They walked back toward the main market, but more cautiously this time. Sofia still managed to buy smoked-meat-filled toasted bread and wild-apple pastries drizzled with wild honey from a roadside stall. They ate while walking, Noir occasionally stealing a small piece of bread from Sofia’s hand.

Finally they found a simple inn at the market’s edge called "Cold Iron." The owner, a plump woman in her fifties named Lira, greeted them warmly. They got a second-floor room with two thick feather mattresses, a window overlooking the market, and a fair price.

After checking in, they went upstairs. Sofia immediately flopped onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh. "Today was so fun! But I’m tired too..."

Sylvia sat by the window, watching the city begin to light up with small crystal lamps on the street posts. Noir hopped into her lap and curled up.

"Tonight we stay alert," Sylvia said quietly. "Someone is watching us."

Sofia nodded, though her eyes were already half-closed. "Okay... but tomorrow we’ll walk around again, right? I want to try the food at that corner stall. They say they have monster-meat soup."

Sylvia gave a small nod, the corner of her mouth lifting faintly. "Tomorrow."

As evening approached, the overcast sky darkened faster. Crystal lamps in Ironvale lit up one by one, painting the streets in ice-blue, faint purple, and warm yellow light. The city came alive at night, the market still bustling, workshops still ringing with hammers, and faint music drifting from drinking houses.

That evening Sylvia and Sofia went down again to collect the dagger from Riven. The young man was already waiting; the weapon was perfectly repaired, the crack gone, the crystal in the hilt glowing steadily once more.

"Excellent work," Sofia said after inspecting it. "Thank you!"

Riven only nodded. But before they left, he spoke in a low voice. "Be careful. A group of artifact hunters from the south arrived yesterday. They like to target travelers with rare items... or rare creatures."

Sylvia stared at him sharply. "Thank you for the information."

They stepped outside. Night deepened, cold wind from the mountains began to blow. Sofia pulled her cloak tighter; the purple snow-crystal pendant at her neck glowed softly.

In the distance, behind the crowd, the gray-robed shadow appeared again just for a moment then vanished.

Sylvia gripped the handle of her newly repaired dagger tighter. The Chain of Abyss finally trembled faintly, not a warning of great danger, but a sign that Ironvale’s peace might not last much longer.

They returned to the inn, their steps quicker. Night in Ironvale had only just begun, and behind its bustle, something was already stirring in the shadows.