Chapter 245: Chapter 243 – A Small Flame Amid the Snow
The carriage rolled with an almost lazy rhythm, steel wheels creaking softly as they cut through the snowy road. Sylvia drew back the black velvet curtain, her crimson pupils gazing out into a world drowned in white.
Forests stretched on either side of the path, towering trees with branches weighed down by heavy snow. Every so often, the wind swept through, shaking the limbs until white clumps fell like frozen rain, striking the roof of the carriage with sharp cracks. In the distance, a long river stretched, its frozen surface reflecting the pale light of the newly risen moon.
Sylvia rested her chin on her hand, staring blankly at the frozen landscape.
"They’ll attack... once winter ends." Her voice was low, more of a murmur to herself than a statement.
Images from the reports of her shadow zombies flickered in her mind. Small Church vessels attempting to land in secret, trying to inscribe fresh teleportation circles along the coast. A cunning strategy not a full invasion, but an attempt to create a shortcut.
Fortunately, the hundreds of shadow zombies she had unleashed served as eyes that never closed. The moment a circle was drawn into the soil, the news reached her. Zombie mages answered with purple fire from afar, destroying everything before it could be used.
"Even so..." Sylvia closed the curtain again, this time with a sharper motion. "I can’t afford to let my guard down. Just one success, and they’ll have a foothold."
.....
The journey dragged on slowly. Zombie horses never hurried; their steps were steady and heavy, keeping the carriage balanced even on slippery paths. Time seemed to drift aimlessly within the hushed cabin.
When the trees grew long shadows and the air bit colder, Sylvia realized true night had fallen. The moon was high, stars flickering pale against the winter sky. She drew a long breath, then tapped the carriage wall.
"Pull over there."
The zombie horse hardly needed the order, but she directed it to stop by an open plain along the frozen river. The carriage slowed, wheels groaning, and halted with a soft thud.
Sylvia opened the door and stepped down. The night air struck her instantly, a chill that cut to the bone. Her undead body was immune to extremes, yet her human instincts still reacted, her skin prickled, her lips felt the sting of cold.
With a flick of her hand, a heavy black cloak appeared from her system storage. She wrapped it over her shoulders, letting the thick wool collar cover her neck.
"...Better," she muttered.
.....
She walked toward the river. The ice gleamed, faint cracks beneath the surface branching like spiderwebs. Raising her hand, Sylvia summoned her black chains. They snapped into the air, striking the frozen river with a single violent lash.
Craaaack!
The thick ice shattered, forming a hole nearly a meter wide. Black water stirred beneath, releasing faint, frosty mist. Sylvia pulled out a bucket from her storage, dipped it, and lifted clear water with ease.
But as she stepped back, something darted beneath the surface fish shadows.
Her eyes narrowed. She waited, still as stone. When a large fish neared the surface, her hand shot out. Pale fingers plunged into knife-cold water and came back clutching a thrashing fish. Its scales gleamed silver, nearly the length of her arm.
"Fresh enough." She studied it briefly, then set it on the bank.
More fish gathered, drawn by the rippling water. Sylvia struck again, this time seizing two at once. Within moments, three fat fish lay at her feet.
"More than enough."
.....
Returning to the carriage, Sylvia pulled out bundles of branches and dry wood from her storage. She stacked them neatly, then snapped her fingers. A Nether Flame of violet-blue licked the wood, sparking to life.
The fire warmed the frigid air. Sylvia sat beside it, skewering the fish over the flames with wooden rods. From her pocket she withdrew a small pouch of salt and pepper simple seasonings, but enough to make river fish taste alive.
Thin smoke rose, carrying a savory scent that slowly filled the night. Sylvia watched the flames, her crimson pupils glinting with violet-blue reflection.
She placed a black iron kettle over the fire, pouring in river water. As it began to hiss, she took out a few dried tea leaves from a pouch and tossed them in. The distinct fragrance of tea spread, soft but strong, mixing with the scent of roasting fish.
Sylvia closed her eyes briefly. Silence wrapped the clearing. Only the crackle of fire, the hiss of fish, and the whisper of night wind drifting through trees remained.
.....
When she opened her eyes again, the fish was ready. Its skin browned, peeling slightly, releasing a sharp savory aroma. She turned the rods to ensure every side was roasted evenly.
The kettle boiled. Sylvia poured hot tea into her cup. Steam curled upward, brushing her face with its simple, soothing scent. She blew gently, then sipped. A faint bitterness mingled with the cold night, filling her chest with thin warmth.
"Better than coffee," she said flatly, though a faint smile tugged her lips.
She bit into the fish. The flesh was tender, the simple salt and pepper making it more than enough.
.....
Sylvia lingered by the fire, wrapped in her cloak, the carriage behind her silent. The zombie horse stood nearby, its body radiating a deathly aura, yet calm watching, guarding.
Her thoughts wandered. A vision of Sofia came from her smile, golden hair, warm eyes. Sylvia stared at the fish in her hand, lowering her gaze.
"If you were here... you’d laugh at me. A zombie queen roasting her own fish in the snow."
She placed the remains on a steel plate and looked up. The moon hid behind clouds, the stars flickered pale.
"This winter is far from over. And the Church won’t stop just because of a storm."
The wind blew, stirring the flames higher. Sylvia pulled her cloak tighter, sipping her hot tea again.
To her, this was just a brief night on the road. But she knew nights like these would grow rarer once war began, there would be no space left for quiet, nor hot tea.
.....
The night pressed on. The fire dwindled, leaving violet-blue embers. Sylvia cleaned the fish bones, storing the kettle and plate back into her system.
She rose, brushing snow from her gown. "Enough. Time to sleep."
Pulling her cloak closer, she walked back to the carriage. Snow crunched under her boots while the embers still smoldered faintly, casting pale glow across the lonely riverside.
The zombie horse stood rigid, unmoving, save for heavy breaths that fogged in the cold. Its violet-red eyes followed Sylvia, as though it understood the time had come to rest.
She opened the carriage door slowly, steel hinges groaning. Stepping inside, her movements left no sound. When the door shut again, silence reclaimed the luxurious cabin.
She slipped off the cloak and lay down on the long leather seat. Its softness embraced her body, a sharp contrast to the harsh world outside. Velvet curtains were drawn tight, only slivers of moonlight sneaking through.
Her crimson eyes lingered on the ceiling for a moment, breath deep. A trace of warmth lingered still from the tea, from the roasted fish as though her body had briefly tasted something resembling a "normal night."
"Sleep... just for a while," she whispered.
Her eyes closed. Breath deepened. Her pale chest rose and fell steadily. Outside, the zombie horse kept its vigil, the carriage shuddering lightly whenever the wind pressed against its frame.
The fire outside died completely, leaving only cold ash. Inside, Sylvia sank into shallow slumber in the heart of a world waiting only for war.
.....
At midnight, Sylvia jolted awake. Whooooshhh! The roar of wind shook the carriage, velvet curtains trembling as icy drafts seeped through cracks.
She opened her eyes, crimson narrowing. "...Another snowstorm." Her voice was low, edged with irritation.
The carriage rocked harder, wheels screeching under the weight of snow piling on. Outside BLAM! A heavy branch crashed, split by the gale. Sylvia drew a long breath, sitting upright on the plush seat.
"If left alone, this carriage could tip over..."
She raised her hand. Black chains burst from the air, writhing like serpents. With a flick, they shot through the window and coiled around the zombie horse. In an instant, the beast vanished, pulled back into her system.
The carriage now stood alone in the blizzard’s grip, snow slamming harder.
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers moved again. From the void of her storage came several thick steel plates, their surfaces gleaming faintly in moonlight. The chains wrapped them, pressing them hard against the carriage’s sides. CLANG! CLANG! The weight struck into the ground, anchoring the vehicle.
"Strong enough... to withstand the first surge."
But the wind screamed on, rattling the window frames, making the curtains whip wildly. Sylvia sighed, then extended her hand once more. This time, thick wooden planks emerged one by one. Chains bound them tightly, hammering them over the windows from outside. BAM! BAM! BAM! The pounding echoed as every gap was sealed, shutting the carriage against the raging cold.
Silence fell save for the storm outside.
Sylvia leaned back, breath steadying. She glanced at the boarded windows, the cabin plunged into darkness, save for the small Nether Flame she summoned in her palm. The violet-blue fire wavered gently, just enough to chase the creeping chill.
"Storms... again and again." Her half-lidded eyes whispered. "As if this world never wants to let me breathe."
She closed her hand, snuffing the flame. Darkness claimed the cabin again, broken only by the faint glow of her own crimson eyes. With a weary motion, she reclined once more, letting the weighted carriage endure beneath the storm.
Outside, snow hammered hard THUD! THUD! THUD! the carriage stood fast.
Inside, Sylvia’s eyes sank shut once more. Her rest was not truly peaceful, but it was enough to last until dawn.