I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl-Chapter 381 - 377 – Night of the Hunt

The night at the "Cold Iron" inn felt unnaturally quiet after the all-day clamor of the market. Outside the window, the lamps dimmed one by one, footsteps on the stone sidewalk grew increasingly rare, and the cold mountain wind slipped through the cracks of the old wooden walls. Inside the small room, there was only Sofia’s steady breathing on the bed beside her, Noir’s soft snoring as he curled at the foot of the bed, and Sylvia’s silence as she sat leaning against the wall, her red eyes open and fixed on the door.

The Chain of Abyss gave a single faint tremor different from before. Not the usual alert vibration, but a cold whisper that crawled up her spine. Sylvia’s eyes snapped wider. She didn’t move yet, only listened.

Footsteps. Not the casual tread of late-night drinkers heading home from the tavern, but trained, light, measured and far too many. Three... five... ten... more than that. They moved from rooftop to rooftop, from back alleys to the side walls of the inn, like spiders approaching a web.

Sylvia didn’t need to look to know. The Chain of Abyss had already told her: thirty people, special weapons in their hands, pure mythril. Sylvia also recognized that only Nocturne had pure mythril at this time; it hadn’t yet been sold or traded. And they had come for Noir.

Noir had woken before Sylvia even stirred. His small body tensed, black scaled fur bristling, blood-red eyes glowing brightly in the darkness. He let out a low growl almost inaudible to ordinary humans, but enough to make Sofia stir and open her eyes halfway, still dazed.

"Sylvia... what’s wrong?" Sofia mumbled groggily, her voice thick with sleep.

Sylvia was already standing. Silently, she scooped Sofia who was still half-conscious into her arms. The girl felt light in her embrace, head resting on Sylvia’s shoulder like a child waking from a nightmare. "Don’t speak. We’re leaving now."

Noir leaped onto Sylvia’s shoulder, his small body ready to move. Sylvia pushed the window open with a gentle shove; the wooden frame creaked faintly, but the sound was swallowed by the night wind. They jumped out, landing almost soundlessly on the roof of the neighboring house. Noir immediately shrank back to cat size, but the dragon aura around him had already begun to flare softly, a pressure that made the air feel heavy for anyone too close.

They ran toward the forest. The distance from the edge of the city was only about a kilometer, not far for Sylvia, but enough to lure their pursuers away from the crowds. She deliberately didn’t use her full speed; she wanted them to follow. Sofia gradually became fully awake in her arms, golden eyes wide with fear but not panic.

"They... came for Noir?" Sofia whispered.

"Yes," Sylvia answered curtly. "And they made a huge mistake."

The northern forest of Ironvale swallowed them instantly in deep darkness. Towering trees like living pillars, thick roots snaking across the ground like the veins of a giant. The thin mist left over from yesterday’s rain, wrapping the trees like a slowly moving white blanket. Their footsteps were nearly silent on the mossy ground, but behind them, thirty pairs of trained feet followed swiftly.

Sylvia stopped in a small clearing surrounded by giant trees. She gently set Sofia down, making sure the girl stood steady. Sofia gripped the handle of her spear, golden eyes alert and glowing.

"Don’t move yet," Sylvia said softly. "Let them come."

Less than a minute later, they appeared. Thirty figures in dark gray robes emerged from the shadows of the trees, forming a perfect circle around the small clearing. Mythril weapons shimmering with a faint purple hue gleamed in their hands, daggers, short bows, and several carrying rune-enchanted capture nets designed for creatures. Their leader, a tall man in an even darker robe and a half-face mask, stepped forward one pace.

"The dragon is ours now," he said in a cold voice full of certainty. "Hand it over without resistance." They spoke without knowing that Sylvia was the Queen of Death.

Sylvia didn’t move. Her red eyes glowed softly in the darkness. Noir remained on her shoulder, his small body unchanged, but his dragon aura had fully erupted. The air in the clearing grew thick, cold, and laden with ancient pressure. Several hunters unconsciously took half a step back, hands trembling on their weapons.

"They think you’re a baby dragon," Sylvia murmured to Noir. "Show them."

Noir let out a low growl that started in his small throat but quickly swelled into a ground-shaking roar. His body trembled, jet-black scales gleaming, then he grew rapidly. Bones cracked, scales shifted, wings tore open wide. In seconds, Noir had returned to his true size: ten meters tall, thirty meters long, a colossal body towering like a living black mountain. His blood-red eyes blazed, cold vapor pouring from his breath and freezing the grass beneath him.

The hunters panicked. Some retreated, some raised trembling weapons, some screamed in terror. "That’s not a baby! That’s an adult undead dragon!"

Their leader raised a hand, trying to calm them. "Steady! We have the rune nets! Capture the dragon first!"

But Sylvia had already moved. She raised her left hand. The Chain of Abyss vibrated powerfully, dark purple runes igniting in the air and encircling the entire clearing. "Dominion Lock."

The ground trembled faintly. Lines of purple energy from the earth, forming an invisible dome that sealed the entire area. Anyone who tried to flee would crash into the unseen energy wall like a bird against glass. Several hunters already tried to run, only to be thrown back into the center of the clearing, falling with small cries.

Sylvia looked at them with cold eyes. "You wanted to kidnap Noir. You thought he was an easy baby dragon to capture. You were wrong."

Noir roared once a sound that shook the surrounding trees and sent leaves falling like black rain. He didn’t attack immediately. He simply stepped forward slowly, massive feet crushing grass and earth, red eyes regarding the hunters like a cat watching trapped mice.

Sylvia raised her right hand again. Thick mist began rising from the ground, not ordinary mist, but the death mist she controlled. It was dark gray mixed with faint purple, moving like a living thing, enveloping the entire clearing and the surrounding forest. The faint moonlight was completely swallowed. The hunters’ vision shrank to only a few meters, sounds became muffled and strangely echoed, as if they were inside a vast, empty room.

"You wanted to play with a dragon," Sylvia said softly, her voice clear even as the mist devoured everything else. "Then play."

Noir began to move. He didn’t kill outright. He hunted them like a cat toying with mice. His great steps shook the ground, his long tail swept small trees until they snapped, his cold breath froze the grass beneath. Whenever someone tried to attack with arrows or rune nets, Noir merely shook his head, the arrows shattered against his scales, the rune nets burned the moment they touched his undead aura.

The hunters fell into complete panic. Some screamed for missing comrades lost in the mist. Some fired blindly in every direction, but their arrows only struck trees or empty ground. One man charged toward Sylvia, dagger raised, but the Chain of Abyss moved on its own, wrapping around his wrist and yanking him into the air. He dangled there, screaming in terror before the chain hurled him back into the fog.

Noir leaped once his gigantic body landed in front of a group trying to regroup. The earth cracked beneath his feet. He roared again, the sound ringing in their ears. Then he began to "play." He chased them slowly, never truly touching them, but every time someone nearly escaped the mist, Noir appeared before them like a giant shadow. He swept his tail, knocking them down. He exhaled cold breath, freezing their feet so they couldn’t move. He growled low in their ears, raising goosebumps.

Sylvia stood motionless in the center of the clearing. The death mist she controlled swirled around her like a living shield. She didn’t need to move. Dominion Lock ensured no one escaped. Noir handled the rest like a cat playing with mice that had no hope left.

One by one, the hunters fell. Not dead, Sylvia didn’t kill them. They simply collapsed from exhaustion and terror, some fainting under the overwhelming dragon aura, some sitting and weeping quietly. Their rune nets were destroyed, weapons cracked, confidence utterly shattered.

Noir finally stopped. He shrank back to cat size and nimbly leaped onto Sylvia’s shoulder. His body was damp with dew and a little blood from those who had tried to fight back, but he hadn’t eaten any of them. He didn’t like the taste of humans.

Sylvia looked at the thirty people now sitting or lying on the mossy ground, breathing raggedly, eyes filled with fear. The death mist slowly thinned, Dominion Lock fading with the dimming purple runes.

"You wanted to kidnap a dragon," Sylvia said quietly, her voice ringing clearly through the silence of the forest. "You thought he would be easy to capture. You were wrong."

She raised her right hand. The Chain of Abyss vibrated powerfully, then coiled in the air like a living serpent. The chain didn’t touch them; it simply hung above, radiating a cold aura that made goosebumps.