I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 392 - 388 – The Uninvited Gift

The night in Nocture felt quieter than usual. The black mist that usually floated low now seemed thicker, as if the city itself was drawing a long breath after days of tension long forgotten. Crystal lamps in the perimeter towers blinked slowly like half-closed eyes. In the back garden of the castle, the giant treant still stood tall, its branches swaying gently as if sharing in the silence.

Sylvia sat on her favorite rock like the day before, her black mantle spread across the damp grass. Sofia leaned against her shoulder, the glass of honey wine from Ironvale still half full in her hand. Noir curled in their laps, his pitch-black scales faintly gleaming under the dim fused moonlight. The small treant branch plop-plopped gently at Sofia’s feet, like a rhythm that never grew tired.

No one spoke for a while. Only the cold wind brushed their faces, carrying the ever-thicker scent of black roses in the night.

Suddenly the Chain of Abyss around Sylvia’s wrist trembled once very softly, almost like a breath. Not a warning of danger, not a threat. Just... a notice.

Sylvia opened her red eyes halfway. "Alicia?"

Less than ten seconds later, Alicia emerged from the mist at the edge of the garden. Her silver hair shimmered faintly, her eyes as sharp as ever even though her expression was more relaxed than usual.

"My Queen," she greeted in a low voice. "There’s a small group at the north gate. Not a trade caravan. They’re... lesser gods. From the Norse and Greek pantheons. They came unarmed, carrying chests of gifts. They claim they want to ’pay respects and express hope for peace.’"

Sofia lifted her head from Sylvia’s shoulder, one eyebrow slightly raised. "They dare come directly?"

Alicia nodded gently. "They say they’ve heard what happened to Aeolus. And to the ten six-winged angels. They don’t want to repeat the same mistake. Their leaders are a Norse wind god named Hraesvelg and a Greek river nymph named Callirhoe. They’re asking permission to hand over the gifts in person. I’ve checked. No traps, no poison, no curses. Just... luxurious but ordinary items."

Sylvia was silent for a moment. Noir growled softly once, more out of laziness than anger.

"Finally they’ve learned," Sylvia murmured coldly. "Let them in. But only as far as the front parlor. No need to reach the garden or private areas. Take the gifts and store them in the underground warehouse. I won’t meet them."

Alicia nodded without further questions and vanished back into the mist as quickly as she had appeared.

Sofia looked at Sylvia with a small smile. "Aren’t you even a little curious about what they brought?"

"Not really," Sylvia replied, lifting her wine glass again. "If it were mithril or rare crystals, maybe. But I have an unlimited system inventory. And the castle warehouse is already full of things I’ve never touched. Gifts from lesser gods are usually just gold, gems, divine silk, or outdated ancient weapons. None of it is truly useful to me."

Sofia laughed softly. "You sound like a very spoiled queen."

Sylvia turned, her red eyes narrowing slightly in playful teasing. "I am a spoiled queen. And you’re the one who spoils me."

They shared a quiet laugh. The small treant branch plop-plopped even more cheerfully, as if delighted by the sound of their laughter.

Meanwhile, at the north gate of the castle, the small group stood with heads bowed.

Hraesvelg, the Norse wind god in a cloak of white eagle feathers, looked tense. The small wind wings on his back trembled faintly. Beside him, Callirhoe the river nymph with hair flowing like blue water held an intricately carved wooden chest with both trembling hands. Behind them, four other lesser gods, two Norse, two Greek carried more chests. All of them were silent, not daring to raise their faces too high.

Alicia appeared before them, accompanied by two two-meter-tall lycanthrope guards.

"Queen Sylvia accepts your intention," Alicia said flatly. "The gifts may be handed over here. You may enter only as far as the front parlor. No farther."

Hraesvelg nodded quickly. "Thank you... we expected nothing more."

They followed Alicia through the slowly opening obsidian gate. Inside the castle, the cold corridors greeted them with oppressive silence. Shadow elf guards stood motionless at every corner, their eyes glowing faintly red. Even the air felt heavier, as though the unseen Chain of Abyss was watching.

In the front parlor, a large room with polished obsidian floors and walls carved with chains, they placed the chests one by one.

The first chest from Hraesvelg contained legendary golden eagle feathers from the peak of Yggdrasil, said to summon eternal winds. The second from Callirhoe held holy water from the River Styx mixed with morning dew from Olympus, supposedly able to heal even a god’s wounds. The others contained eternal fire gems, unbreakable cloth woven from Arachne’s thread, and a short sword engraved with Norse runes said to cut shadows.

Alicia nodded once. "The Queen will be informed. You may leave now."

Hraesvelg opened his mouth, perhaps wanting to beg for a brief audience or deliver a further peace message. But Alicia’s cold gaze made the words die in his throat.

"Thank you... for receiving us," he said quietly.

They bowed deeply, then turned and left with quick but cautious steps, as if afraid that staying even a moment longer in the castle would summon something terrible from the shadows.

After they departed, several castle guards immediately carried the chests to the underground warehouse. The warehouse was vast, cold, and dark, already filled with similar chests from previous visits. There were dusty divine silks, untouched gems, and ancient weapons beginning to rust from disuse. Sylvia did have an unlimited system inventory, but she preferred to store useless items here as if to remind the world that gifts from lesser gods meant nothing to her.

That night, after the group left, Sylvia and Sofia returned to the queen’s chamber.

Noir was already curled on the bed, his scales faintly gleaming under the black candlelight. Sylvia slipped off her mantle, letting it fall to the floor. Sofia helped loosen the ties of Sylvia’s long black hair, her fingers gently combing through each strand.

"You really don’t want to see the gifts?" Sofia asked with a smile.

Sylvia shook her head. "No need. If there’s anything truly useful, Alicia or Stacia will tell me. The rest... let it gather dust in the warehouse."

Sofia laughed softly. "You’re so cruel to them."

"Not cruel," Sylvia replied, pulling Sofia into her arms. "Just... uninterested. They came out of fear, not sincerity. Those gifts are only an attempt to buy peace. I don’t need to be bought."

They lay together on the large bed. Sofia rested her head on Sylvia’s chest, listening to the slow, cold heartbeat. Noir leaped up, curling between them, his soft purring like a lullaby.

Outside, the mist grew thicker. In the frozen northern fjord, the remaining Norse lesser gods who had not come to Nocture heard the news from Hraesvelg through the wind. They sighed in relief at least there had been no bloodshed tonight. In the southern caves, the surviving mid-level demons exchanged glances; some began thinking of following the same path: surrender to the rumors, deliver gifts, and hope the Queen of Death remained asleep.

But in Nocture, nothing changed.

The next morning arrived with the same cold breeze.

Sylvia woke first. She rose gently so as not to wake Sofia, then walked to the chamber balcony. Noir followed, leaping onto the railing and growling softly while sniffing the air.

Below, the city looked peaceful. Thin smoke rose from chimneys, small treant children were already running in the public garden, and merchants were opening their stalls. There were no signs of chaos. No whispers of threat.

Stacia appeared on the adjacent balcony, still holding last night’s novel. Her silver-gray hair was messy, her eyes half-open.

"Morning, boss," Stacia greeted with a yawn. "Alicia said there were gifts from the gods yesterday. Want me to check if anything is interesting?"

Sylvia shook her head without turning. "Just put them in the warehouse. If there’s anything usable for the city like rare plant seeds or energy crystals separate them for the farms or perimeter. The rest... leave it."

Stacia shrugged. "Alright. But if there’s an ancient Greek god novel, I’m claiming it first."

Sylvia only gave a faint smile.

That afternoon, as usual, Sylvia and Sofia returned to the back garden.

The small treant branch immediately rolled over, plop-plopping joyfully. Noir jumped down from Sylvia’s shoulder, sniffed the branch, then stretched contentedly. Sofia carried a small basket of wild apples from the southern orchard freshly picked that morning.

They sat on the large rock. Sofia peeled an apple with a small knife and handed the first slice to Sylvia.

Sylvia bit gently. Fresh sweetness spread across her tongue. "Good."

Sofia grinned widely. "Better than any god’s gift, right?"

Sylvia gazed at Sofia for a very long time. Her red eyes softened very softly something only Sofia had ever seen.

"Far better," she answered quietly.

They spent the afternoon the same way as the days before: comfortable silence, soft laughter, touching hands, and the cold breeze carrying the thick scent of black roses. In the distance, the city’s crystal lamps began lighting one by one. The black mist embraced everything like a hug.

In the castle’s underground warehouse, the new chests from the lesser gods were neatly stacked in a corner. Golden eagle feathers, holy Styx water, eternal fire gems all lay silent in the darkness, slowly gathering dust, untouched.

Because for Sylvia, the greatest gift was already beside her every day.

And the outside world, for the time being, was learning not to disturb that peace.

Noir purred contentedly. The small treant branch plop-plopped like the rhythm of a calm heartbeat. The Chain of Abyss remained still on Sylvia’s wrist.

That night, Nocture slept peacefully.

And a new rumor slowly began to spread among the remaining gods:

"The Queen of Death did not accept their gifts... but she also did not destroy them. Maybe... true peace is possible."

But in the back garden of the castle, Sylvia cared nothing for any rumor.

She simply closed her eyes, let Sofia lean closer, and savored the cold breeze carrying the thick scent of black roses.