The spring fog still clung to the courtyard of the black castle when the magical bell tolled in the eastern tower. The chime was not loud, but it reverberated deep into the island's bedrock, a sign that a critical decision had just been made. From her dim study, Sylvia stood calmly, her chains circling slowly in the air like serpents listening to an inaudible tune.
She had just declared her decision to divide their strength. The core army would be stationed in the island's center, Rank 4 zombies would guard the vital points, emergency teleportation routes would be constructed, and a containment spell would be prepared. This was not merely a war plan. It was a wager: to force the Church and the Underworld to grind against one another, while keeping her own forces from being torn apart from two sides.
