How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 681: Frozen North Interlude

"As per your commands, the western and eastern borders stand blockaded. Deliveries from Count Dila and Viscount Belom flow in smoothly, guarded by our Heavenly Knights. The central ridge receives nonstop monitoring. Right now, all operations align with our projections, Your Grace."

Inside the office aglow with light, Lisel, the young knight, held himself upright and steady.

His left hand stayed clasped at his back, while the right gripped a tidy stack of documents, corners lined up flawlessly—just like the rigorous training he'd endured from the moment of his vow.

"Following your directives," Lisel went on, "we sought Count Roverick’s aid on the central field surges. Still, as his troops keep shrinking, he refuses to send more forces. He should head back from the academy any day now, so perhaps we should ask again—just to keep up appearances."

"I understand..."

Grand Duke Luther Heavens responded with a steady, impartial voice.

He kept his back to Lisel.

Rather, he lingered in front of the grand windows in his office, fingers locked behind him while staring at the icy wilderness stretching outside the city barriers.

Dim rays washed over the gleaming floor, outlining his imposing form as if it were a metal sculpture frozen in time.

"Since the monster waves are starting to fade because of our forces," Lisel noted further, "I think we can launch our early strategies soon, Your Grace."

"Carry on as you deem appropriate," Luther stated following a short delay. "Stay vigilant, though. If you can... take one of them alive."

Lisel’s stance grew a touch more rigid.

"Got it, Your Grace."

"One additional point."

Luther’s words halted him right before he pivoted away.

"Skip the central plains and the mountains. No monster waves will emerge from those areas."

For a split second, Lisel paused. A spark of intrigue flashed over his face—fleetingly—before it faded away just as fast. Faith overrode any doubts.

"Certainly, Your Grace."

With a formal nod, Lisel spun around and left the office, the thick doors shutting gently in his wake.

Now by himself, the Grand Duke stayed rooted in place.

His blood-red gaze bore through the panes, beyond the city, beyond the iced plains, and fixed on the far-off skyline—aimed at whatever secret only he grasped.

....

[Mid-Tier Ice Magic]

[Frost Explosion]

Snow lifted her pale staff, its length glowing softly as magical energy pulsed along it.

Spotless, flawless ice amassed at the end—pure white mana building up, squeezing tight, until it hardened into a shining sphere.

The chill in the air plunged, the atmosphere wailing as it turned solid.

The sphere launched ahead like a comet streaking down.

BOOOOM—!!!

It burst in a whirlwind of dazzling white.

Icy blasts surged outward, hurling bits of frozen debris and chilled fog everywhere.

The earth split open, swiftly encased in sheets of glittering ice.

"Guaghhh—!"

"Raghhhck—!!!"

The beasts trapped in the eruption—beings forged from ice and chill—couldn’t fight back. Snow’s spell wasn’t mere coldness.

It was total.

Even the tiniest bits of her incantation stuck to them, digging in deep, turning their hearts to crystal from within.

Body parts locked in place while moving. Cries choked off in their mouths as their forms became ghostly ice figures.

Snow observed with a detached, faraway look.

Soon after, sun rays hit the iced shapes.

Fractures webbed out.

Then—gently, soundlessly—they crumbled apart.

The monsters melted into swirling white vapor, carried off by the frosty breeze as if they’d never been.

"Your spellwork has climbed to new heights," Riley observed evenly.

While talking, the foe he’d engaged tumbled down behind him—its skull neatly detached from the torso.

For Riley, the monsters never sensed their end coming.

One moment they breathed; the next, their throats vanished, sliced with flawless accuracy.

"Indeed..."

Snow answered in a gentle tone.

She dropped her staff and eyed it, sensing the mana stream inside her.

The feeling sharpened now—thicker, cleaner, quicker to heed.

She’d spotted the shift earlier, verified it alongside Seo, but living it made the truth crystal clear.

Her connection had grown stronger.

Her mana’s purity had elevated.

And she understood the root—or some of it.

That vision.

The clash against the fiend.

That alternate self, positioned in ice and wreckage, commanding might that rang both known and fearsome.

Snow clenched the staff tighter.

Answers eluded her still. Just pieces. Just remnants.

Though the might she now held was solid, real... the mystery linked to it weighed on her heart oddly.

Naturally, such sudden core advancements brought huge gains.

Every sorcerer would deem it a gift.

But power dropping in unearned, unexplained, naturally bred doubt.

It was a prized boon—without question—but a troubling one too.

Snow sensed it plainly: the shift ran profound.

Not just skill honing or slow progress from practice.

Something core had stirred, like a buried part of her soul rousing.

And her sole hints lay in the broken recollections from that vision.

The iced fortress.

Its lofty towers burned into her thoughts with stark detail, not as a sight viewed, but as a memory etched deep.

Like it had lingered forever, dormant in her essence.

Sometimes, she nearly felt its pulse.

A subtle draw yanked at her heart when she eyed the north—not merely the north, but sharper still.

The labyrinth.

The spot they marched toward right then.

No matter this strength’s nature, no matter that vision’s truth, it all beckoned her onward.

That insight alone disturbed her beyond the power.

When Riley first proposed the northern labyrinth trip, doubt had flared up instantly.

Without his nudge, she was sure she’d have urged it—or ventured solo in silence.

The timing cut too close.

She’d challenged him outright, probing if he held clues to her altered form.

His reply had rung annoyingly true.

He lacked knowledge.

Yet... it seemed he grasped a piece.

Not the origin, maybe, but the path.

With Riley, boundaries always hazed.

She understood him enough to know that pushing hard—trapping him, insisting on facts—he’d yield in time.

She could wring the reality from him if desired.

But oddly...

She held back.

From her depths, a soft murmur countered her mind.

This path you walk solo.

Not from arrogance.

Not from dread.

But since whatever loomed in the north’s icy core bound solely to her.

As their trek pressed on, Riley eyed Snow a few paces in front.

Her stride stayed firm, relaxed, but each step brimmed with keen alertness—like she pondered deeply yet poised to strike instantly.

Not the dreamy concentration of a bookworm, nor the casual watch of a veteran explorer.

It was the poise of one teetering on an unchangeable brink.

Riley had foreseen her skills surging past his forecasts.

After all, he knew full well Evelyn had meddled covertly—or rather, shaped the realm around him sans permission.

Making sure each comrade, each vital player in his fate, held the might to weather the storm ahead.

Snow fell under that umbrella.

Even so, Riley couldn’t shake the discomfort.

How deeply had Evelyn tampered?

And crucially... through what means?

Bearing most of his cursed recollections, the shards of fallen realms, the answer stared plain.

Snow drawing strength from her parallel self—from a shattered, alternate era—wasn’t just possible; it loomed all too probable.

A Snow variant who’d tread this route before.

One who might have fallen... or endured to pass on a legacy.

Does this echo my own ordeal...?

The idea hung.

But watching her closer revealed the contrast.

Snow’s advance struck far more straightforward than his.

His test had woven lies, limits, and slow reveal, while hers hit sudden—nearly imposed.

Like the realm had grown tired of delay.

That fact alone sparked Riley’s wariness.

Yet... this shift proved beneficial, no doubt.

In several respects.

A mightier Snow boosted their chances.

Stronger chances curbed wild unknowns.

Still, for all the sound reasons, a sliver of him fretted over her tackling the looming test unaided.

He believed in her power.

But faith didn’t quell worry.

Should the hour strike—should chaos erupt—he’d intervene swiftly.

Silently.

Firmly.

Regardless of shattered bounds.

For the moment, though, he trailed her guidance.

Side by side, they felled the beasts in their way, plunging further into the glacial wilds.

Fights ended quick, sharp, nearly routine.

And with each advance, the atmosphere grew denser.

It wouldn’t drag on.

The labyrinth loomed.

...

At the same time, back in the academy—

Riley’s quarters hung unusually still.

Rose fixed on the paper clutched in her fist for an extended beat before gradually crushing it into a compact wad.

"Hey—what’s that about?!"

Alice gasped next to her, springing halfway off her seat in shock.

"I don’t want it," Rose answered bluntly, her voice level to the edge of apathy.

"But—it’s your debut interview, remember!"

Alice argued, grabbing another page off the table and flapping it wildly.

"Practice is key! Sure, you might feel sure, but jitters could hit anyone—no, hold on... probably not for you, Rose—but anyway!"

She paused for air, then rushed ahead.

"Riley told me straight to coach you all on simple PR ahead of the chat. This isn’t minor—it’ll air to the whole academy!"

"PR?" Rose queried, cocking her head a bit.

"Public relations,"

Alice declared with pride.

"Or... close enough. Essentially, winning over folks, steering the story, picking words wisely and dodging others." She chuckled softly. "Snow urged me to watch it closer too."

"Hmm..." Rose muttered. "I already know what to reveal—and what to hold back."

Her eyes wandered momentarily to the pane.

Hidden musings swirled beneath her steady facade.

In truth, she’d crafted a statement ready.

One not just for the school.

A disclosure so explosive it would echo past these confines—into elite ranks, power groups, and scandal-hungry spots.

But she guarded that secret close.

On the nearby cot, Seo lounged back, a tome splayed across her lap.

She’d stayed mute, though her gaze lifted shortly from the text, focus honing quietly.

Then—

Creak.

The entrance swung open fast.

Yui, Riley’s dedicated room attendant, entered.

Her bearing remained poised like ever, but her face showed obvious distress.

"Young Lady Rose..."

Rose whipped around at once. "What’s wrong, Yui?"

"A pressing issue demands your focus."

Yui pressed her palms tight, tone hushed yet firm.

"Your family’s steward, Roberto, insists on seeing you immediately."

A beat.

"...Seems an event concerns your father."

The space went quiet.

"...His Grace, Duke Raymond."

At that, Rose’s stare hardened in a flash.

The easy poise evaporated—swapped for icy intent.

"What occurred?"