How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 676: Frozen North 7.5

As the prince's silhouette gradually blended into the throng, Lucas's golden eyes flashed for a fleeting second—

keen, brilliant, nearly like a hunter's—

then dimmed softly.

...Did I imagine it?

The moment had passed in a blink, yet he was sure of the feeling that hit him.

That repulsive, slimy aura that stuck to the prince right when his hand made contact with Janica.

A feeling all too familiar to Lucas.

"U-um... Lucas?"

Janica's voice yanked him back to reality.

He spun around right away and, without a second thought, softly grasped her hand. His eyes fell to her wrist, his brows furrowing with worry.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," she answered swiftly.

"...Is that right," he murmured. "Even so—just to be safe."

Before she had a chance to object, his second hand came in, tenderly holding her wrist and palm.

A gentle heat radiated from his contact as subtle divine power coursed into her.

Janica sensed her cheeks flushing.

He acted this way every time—

totally casual, completely oblivious to the closeness his gestures carried.

Something she occasionally hoped he'd notice.

...No.

Perhaps it was for the best if he stayed unaware.

She shook her head to dispel the useless ideas, then raised her eyes to meet his.

"That prince," she whispered. "Did you pick up on anything?"

Lucas hesitated.

"Yes... but it's not for you to fret over."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I detected something wrong," he admitted truthfully. "But likely, I got it wrong."

Janica's brow creased a bit.

She was aware that something had occurred. That odd heat, the lightheadedness, the gut instinct blaring at her the instant he laid a hand on her—

But somehow, the specifics wouldn't solidify in her thoughts.

No matter what, that prince spelled trouble.

"...I understand," she murmured gently.

She looked over at Lucas, then offered a smile.

Truth be told, she was truly relieved he'd shown up at that exact moment.

Even if he was a pesky, brawny fool who tackled most issues with sheer strength—

In the times that counted, he was the steadiest ally she could count on.

"Okay... that ought to cover it for the moment."

Lucas at last withdrew his hands, appearing content as he checked Janica’s wrist.

The subtle bruises from the prince’s hold had vanished entirely, and crucially, that nagging, foul feeling he'd sensed before was gone too.

"If anything odd comes up," he said steadily, "let me know right away."

Janica twisted her wrist, flexing her fingers open and shut several times.

"No need to fret, it all seems normal," she assured him. "Although... when that prince grabbed me before, I did sense something off-putting. Pretty gross, really. But it's likely just my dislike for his touch to begin with."

"Gross...?" Lucas repeated.

"Yes."

"..."

Lucas went quiet, his face growing grave as his stare shifted down a touch, evidently deep in contemplation.

Watching him that way, Janica couldn't resist.

She grinned and edged closer slightly.

"What's that look for? After shutting me out of nearly all your recent stuff, you're not telling me you're concerned about me all of a sudden? Fufu. Relax—even if that shady prince attempted anything, I could've dealt with it on my own."

Her playful grin stiffened in no time.

Since Lucas was gazing directly at her.

Not blushing. Not shy.

Simply earnest.

"What are you saying, Janica?"

"Eh...?"

"Of course I'd worry about you," he stated straightforwardly. "That's just how it is. You're important to me."

"L-Lucas...?"

"So don't talk like that," he went on, his voice solid yet kind. "You're the most valuable person in my life."

Does this fool even grasp his words...?

Janica's cheeks scorched.

It felt like she'd been reprimanded—and proposed to—in one breath.

"...You're really not fair," she whispered, averting her gaze while struggling to steady her pounding heart.

...

In the meantime, Prince Alain merged back into the opulent gathering in the vast hall, gliding effortlessly as though the incident never occurred.

He dodged idle chats, weaving among aristocrats and traders with expert finesse.

...That was too close.

His face shadowed as the memory of Lucas’s piercing stare replayed in his head.

I needed to be more cautious.

Interference was anticipated, but not in that form.

Not from a figure who could dash across the whole room instantly and shatter his arm with such ease.

At minimum, he ought to have set up a distraction for Lucas.

Though it was brief, those golden eyes had made him feel utterly insignificant.

Feeble.

Normally, he'd never endure such disgrace.

Yet his gut warned him plainly—if he'd pressed on, the outcome would've been much graver.

Pulling back was wise.

Even so...

It stung to give up on such a prime prospect.

Janica Mortelina was perfect.

Her alignment, her essence, her promise—she'd have been a superb host for his queen.

She matched the criteria almost flawlessly.

Were it not for that vexing barrier next to her.

That youth... no, that entity.

Warnings had come before, but witnessing it up close proved it all.

The whispers held truth.

Lucas was the Child of Light.

An existence that clashed head-on with his queen’s very being.

Alain's fists tightened gradually as he breathed out sharply.

"...The strategy shifts."

Temporarily, he'd step back.

Evaluate anew.

Turn his focus in another direction.

Haste wasn't required.

Besides, with the Child of Light still breathing...

Any unprepared action would only spell disaster.

Naturally, removing dangers fell under his responsibilities.

But understanding the task and possessing the tools to execute it were worlds apart.

At present... he had neither strength nor assurance.

Tch.

He'd just have to hunt for another host.

Once my queen arrives, crushing that cursed youth will be simple.

The idea calmed him, rebuilding some poise.

Spreading his mana wide, Alain extended his awareness, threading into the perceptions of the handful of aides he'd brought along.

Their visions turned into his, sweeping the hall from various vantage points.

It required little time.

There—a viable alternative.

Not quite Janica's caliber, but serviceable enough.

Naturally, as if fate loved to taunt him, another bothersome aura hovered near this new option too.

Yet, provided it wasn't touched by holy favor, it presented no true problem.

He acted without delay.

Having already caught Lucas’s notice, he steered clear of extra attention, threading through the masses with skilled subtlety, his mana held in check.

Avoid needless dangers.

Shun unexpected twists.

But suddenly—

Thud.

"Ugh—?!"

His world tilted as his form jerked to a stop, knees buckling while he toppled rearward, crashing onto the sleek ground. A fierce ache raced up his back, his features twisting as the jolt shook his frame.

...Did I strike a barrier?

No.

That barrier felt far too solid.

Too vital.

Scowling, Alain raised his eyes—

And stiffened.

Icy blue eyes bored into him from above, chill and fathomless, triggering an unwanted chill along his spine.

Blond locks, angular traits, and a dominating aura that bore down like the earth's full burden.

No doubt about it.

"...Riley Hell?"

Riley regarded him wordlessly for several beats, like scrutinizing a bug underfoot. Then, in a deep tone stripped of feeling, he uttered:

"A mid-boss... exactly. You’re meant to appear here too..."

"Huh?"

Before Alain could grasp the statement, Riley reached out and hauled him upright with startling simplicity, his hold steady but measured.

Riley offered no more clarification.

And for the first evening, Alain experienced a frost deeper than Lucas’s stare.

This was no risk he could underestimate.

"Thank you..."

"It’s fine," Riley answered offhandedly. "But why the rush?"

Alain faltered briefly, then flashed a faint smile. "It’s a private matter. Oh, right—I haven’t given my name yet. I’m—"

"No need."

"Huh?"

"I’d likely forget it regardless," Riley stated flatly. "So skip telling me."

...Is this guy for real?

In a flash, annoyance surged within Alain.

To be brushed off so lightly—no, nullified—was an unfamiliar slight after so long.

But the emotion faded fast, masked by a courteous grin.

"Haha, really?" Alain chuckled softly. "Well then, I’ll take my leave. Thanks again for the assist—and apologies for the collision."

"It’s fine," Riley said.

Still rattled by Riley’s inscrutable look, Alain pivoted and started departing, compelling himself to avoid glancing behind.

All his senses urged him to flee this spot at once.

Then—

"Whatever scheme you’re brewing..."

Riley’s words caught up to him.

Alain halted.

"...keep my dear one out of it, got it?"

Gradually, Alain faced back, a query rising to his mouth—

And then—

FOOOOSHHH.

A crushing force crashed over him.

Not mana.

Not murderous aura.

Something infinitely more dire.

His air hitched, his body locked up, and in a horrifying instant, it seemed his soul itself had iced over.

"Or I’ll drop in on your queen myself," Riley went on evenly.

"Okay?"

Alain glanced up.

The prior blue eyes had vanished.

Instead, shadowed, abyss-like orbs stared back—boundless, vacant, and total.

A look that drove home one undeniable fact.

This wasn't a caution.

It was a vow.

Alain shuddered, icy perspiration trailing his spine, his throat parched as he managed a dip of his head.

"...Understood."

Only after the weight lifted did he comprehend how near he’d been to crumbling.

Without further speech, Alain spun away and vanished amid the masses—

his assurance broken, his mind in turmoil.