How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 683: Frost Queen 2

Huff...!

Huff...!

Every inhale ripped across his lungs like fragments of broken ice.

Dense clouds of white frost billowed from his lips while the colossal figure charged ahead, his enormous bulk smashing through the wide snow plains nestled amid a pair of soaring northern peaks.

Each footfall shook the iced earth, leaving profound imprints that split the frozen surface below.

Crimson trails marked the snow in his wake.

His right arm—missing.

Not sliced off neatly, but torn free in a savage frenzy that blurred in his memory.

The ragged end throbbed with unrelenting torment, nerves howling, tissue frozen yet exposed.

Ice gripped the injury, binding it sufficiently to preserve his life.

Excruciating.

Yet kind in its way.

"I... must reach the chieftain..." he snarled, tone rough and fraying at the edges.

He was Kaltan—a fighter among the frost giants, seasoned from endless clashes, one who had confronted dragons and enemy clans without a trace of dread.

Until this moment.

Groaagh!

Huaaaghh!!

Ferocious bellows boomed from behind.

His followers—no, his kin—continued the battle.

Not aiming for victory.

Not even to halt the foes.

Merely to slow them down.

In the distance, the icy skyline blazed with turmoil. Frozen chunks burst into splinters.

Huge forms collapsed. Ice-born monsters—beasts that once sent whole human legions scattering—got ripped to pieces with horrifying speed.

Their ranks were immense.

Frost drakes. Ice ogres. Ancient creatures spawned from ages of solidified mana.

Even so...

The adversaries numbered just two humans.

Only two.

They had butchered the border guards with ridiculous simplicity, slicing through ranks like they were mere vapor.

Kaltan had witnessed it firsthand—had rushed in himself, fury blazing within—

And paid the price.

Swiiishh—!!

BOOM!

The recollection caused his stride to stumble.

Why...?

Why this defeat?

The Frost Queen had granted her favor.

Their leader—the mightiest of their kind—guarded the northern realm.

The chill that fueled them was timeless, unyielding.

But the instant they clashed—

Understanding escaped them entirely.

Simply—

Obliteration.

Kaltan gripped his one remaining hand tightly.

Commands had rung clear: block the invaders.

Prevent access to the dungeon.

Yet those directives rang hollow now.

Only the alert counted.

He needed to convey it.

To the queen if possible... or at minimum, the chieftain.

For Kaltan stood apart.

Blessed with Mystic Eyes, an uncommon anomaly even for frost giants—vision that pierced slivers of reality when fixed on the essence of being.

And as his stare fixed on one human—

For a fleeting second—

He glimpsed it.

Not power.

Not energy.

But a far graver force.

A being so immense, so twisted, so utterly alien that his sight fractured under the strain of grasping it.

An aura woven with command, godhood, and an unsettling echo—

An element alien to this realm.

His legs had almost given way right then.

Terror propelled him forward now.

"That thing..." Kaltan rasped, ice coating his mouth.

"...is not human."

Uaghhc...!!!

As his thoughts snapped back to that human, Kaltan's sight twisted.

Saliva frothed at his lips while blood surged from between them, staining the snow with hot, dark flecks.

His gigantic form lurched onward before halting, knees sinking into the iced soil.

"Ghh...!"

He balled his surviving left fist and pounded his torso, fighting to calm the savage recoil ravaging him—mana whirling wildly, his Mystic Eyes wailing from the horror they beheld.

Yet before another gasp could escape—

[MID GRADE: ICE MAGIC]

[FROST LANCE]

SWOOOSHHH—!!!

A piercing wail sliced the atmosphere.

A spear of solid ice, compact and lethally edged, hurtled forth, dragging trails of pale blue frost like a shooting star.

It slammed from the rear with ruthless accuracy, skewering right through Kaltan’s body—

—nailing his limb

—burrowing into his ribcage

—fixing his left grip over his pounding heart.

Crackle...!

The chill expanded without delay.

Ice veins snaked over his flesh like animated restraints, solidifying sinew, skeleton, and vital fluid. His blood vessels paled to azure. His exhalation halted in crystalline form.

A native of frost.

Still—

The freeze claimed his life.

RAAAGHHH!!!

His bellow erupted, fierce and instinctive, threaded with desperate mana.

The terrain quaked under his weight, the breeze quivering as though rejecting his looming end.

Steady steps echoed from the rear.

"For a beast that relishes the agonized cries of its prey,"

Snow remarked evenly, her exhale forming wisps as she observed his thrashing,

"he’s awfully noisy."

Riley eyed the iced colossus with faint curiosity.

"Well, your spells aren’t precisely calming."

"I’ve restrained myself considerably, you know," Snow answered, tone even.

"This level of suffering hardly matches the atrocities these monsters have committed."

She advanced nearer, her footwear pressing lightly into the frost.

Her pale cloak swayed gently in the biting gale as she halted in front of the almost encased frost giant.

Her look remained impassive—not vengeful or vicious.

Simply remote.

"Giant."

"Ku—GHCK...!"

Kaltan’s mandible shook as iced crimson fractured at his mouth. Rage blazed in his gaze despite his crumbling form.

"H-Human... you dare...!"

Snow lifted her wand a touch, stare keen.

"Just how many people have you gathered inside your dungeon?"

With her query—

Kaltan chuckled.

A fractured, gravelly noise rising amid frost and gore.

"Hah... hahah..."

His exhales emerged in iced puffs.

"As if... I’d ever tell you..."

Snow regarded him for another short while.

Then she breathed out gently.

Snap.

Her fingers clicked.

Instantly, the ice intensified.

Kaltan’s form turned utterly rigid—face frozen in rebellious frenzy—then burst into shards with a crisp, glassy shatter, dispersing as icy bits and pale vapor carried by the breeze.

Quiet settled over the frosted expanse.

Snow dropped her arm, a shadow of discomfort crossing her features momentarily.

"...Their loyalty is uncomfortable," she whispered.

Riley traced her line of sight, his gaze tightening a fraction.

Beasts ought to lack thought—fueled by appetite, impulse, ruin.

But these foes they encountered—

They obeyed directives.

They defended lands.

They guarded mysteries.

Some entity—or force—directed them.

...

This unfolded as they pushed deeper toward the dungeon.

The distant shimmer now shone plainly—not merely a mana-sensed aura, but a solid beacon carved against the skyline.

A direct path there promised the swiftest advance.

However—

Venturing further into the wooded haze and fog-shrouded pale meadows amplified the unease.

The atmosphere shifted at first.

A vile odor invaded their breaths—dense, metallic, and decaying.

Blood.

Stale blood, iced blood, blood embedded in the snow and lingering eternally.

Snow eased her pace.

Skeletal remains dotted the terrain, partially concealed under rime.

Certain ones splintered, others eerily pristine, denuded of meat with calculated care.

Scattered frozen corpses appeared—contorted figures that were once individuals, their last looks etched in horror under ice sheets.

Yet that failed to capture the horror.

Thick fetters sprawled over the snow, some broken, others anchored firm.

Colossal metal enclosures—warped, ripped asunder, or hauled off—loomed forsaken like symbols of hopelessness.

And weaving amid it all stretched gigantic tracks, sunk deep into the ground and now partially blanketed by new flakes.

They lacked chaos.

They traced trails.

Pathways.

Snow’s words pierced the hush, subdued and strained.

"Riley... I think there’s more to this dungeon than we expected."

"Yeah."

Riley inclined his head gradually, face growing somber.

This zone had proven savage even in the game—but never to this extent.

He recalled creatures that stalked humans, that seized them momentarily before consuming later.

Rough cords.

Short-term pens. Raw pragmatism.

But this—

This screamed organization.

Enclosures.

Shackles.

Conveyor lines.

"They’re not just hunting," Riley grumbled.

"They’re collecting."

And hanging in the breeze lingered another element.

A hint of sorcery—faint, nearly vanished, yet clear. It grazed his awareness in a manner that creased his forehead.

Recognizable...

"That frost giant earlier clearly held a high rank among them," Riley went on.

"It’s a shame we couldn’t get any information out of him."

Snow held her silence briefly.

Her focus rested on a wrecked enclosure, grip firming around her wand.

Matters grew tangled with each passing instant.

Riley let out a soft breath.

He could extract truths—yank facts straight from the core using his divinity at will.

But he refrained.

Attracting notice presently might summon her.

Erebil honored her vow, true—but deities excelled at evasions.

He refused to offer her the tiniest pretext for meddling.

He felt assured.

United, he and Snow could conquer this dungeon through sheer might if required.

Still—

As precaution.

Riley reached into his pouch and grazed his digits over a petite crimson token inscribed with a solitary feline eye in its midst.

A backup.

Snow’s well-being took priority.

He channeled a subtle mana surge into it.

For the shortest instant, the eye flared scarlet—then dimmed.

Snow remained unaware.

She pressed onward once more.

Riley trailed, narrowing the gap between them as naturally as inhaling.

Together, they advanced, footfalls cautious, awareness heightened.

Surrounding them, the flakes thickened with signs of demise.

’I just hope nothing unexpected happens again....’

.....

Within the throne chamber of the iced fortress—

The Frost Queen offered a faint grin.

It surfaced delicately, scarcely noticeable, but as it did, her alabaster, gem-like eyes gleamed softly, like the flakes themselves had awakened.

"...How interesting."

Her tone resounded gently across the grand space, borne on mana infused with chill that throbbed with her respiration.

"It seems an unnatural being has stepped into my domain."

She propped her chin on her palm, delicate features still, bearing graceful and at ease—though the surrounding air grew subtly denser.

"And yet..."

"He harbors no intent toward me... nor toward my castle."

Her vision wandered past the glacial barriers, cutting through spans, landscapes, and veils of existence.

"How curious..."

For millennia she had stayed tethered here.

A ruler of freeze, interred in her own territory.

Via her Mystic Eyes of far-seeing, she had observed the outer realm surge and crumble—empires crumbling to ash, champions forging myths, fiends shifting guises and titles.

She had beheld faiths emerging, divinities waning, and the silent vanishing of whole lineages.

Scarcely anything startled her these days.

But—

This one did.

The youth striding with her destined successor defied all prior sights.

He wielded divinity.

That stood beyond doubt.

Yet it lacked the refined glow of true deities, or the pilfered shards borne by faux holy ones and favored warriors.

His godhood twisted—stacked, curbed, coiled tight like a weapon veiled in fabric.

It seemed... off.

Not threatening right away—

And yet—

Perilous in all else.

"...Fascinating."

Her long-slumbering intrigue stirred gently—rivaled only by her regard for her inheritor.

A tender curve deepened on her mouth as she voiced thoughts for her alone, her words melting into the frost-veiled quiet of the chamber.

"Tell me, unnatural one... what are you, really?"

At her side, the ice lizardman servant tensed.

He had paused in his briefing.

"...A-And as for the outer patrols the intruding humans have—"

"M-My queen?"

No reply came.

Her focus had shifted from him, from the details he had labored to compile....

...

At the same time, in the domain of crimson and ivory—

A shape grinned.

Silvery vapor swirled idly around a suspended outline as a limb delved into a void that defied logic, retrieving a known token adorned with narrow, feline gazes.

The token throbbed subtly, scarlet radiance leaking from its borders.

Cheshire smirked.

"Oh my~"

His tail flicked carelessly while delight danced in his uneven eyes.

"This is new."

Despite his flair, pride, and dramatic flair, Cheshire found himself truly captivated.

After all, Riley had summoned him on purpose for the first time—not by accident, not by fallout, but deliberately.

The grin stretched broader.

"Now~ now~ whatever could the dear lover of my master possibly ask of my humble service~?"

His tone rang with whimsical poise, each word dripping mischief and jest as the fabric of being yielded to him.

A scarlet gateway unfurled—just wide enough for his face to emerge.

As he glanced through—

Frigid.

An intense, piercing chill battered his faculties, keen enough that even he sensed it creeping under his hide.

"...Brr."

His ears flicked.

"Is this the north?"

The gateway floated high in the heavens, offering a bird's-eye sweep of boundless pale fields, rugged peak chains, iced woodlands, and mana so thick it warped the breeze.

The terrain beneath pulsed oddly—laden, infused with an outsider's resolve that had seized rule over the area long ago.

Cheshire’s gaze scanned with zeal.

"Now where is he~?"

A moment ticked by.

Then—

"Ah~ found you~"

Deep below, two shapes traversed the drifts—one instantly recognizable.

Riley.

Cheshire laughed quietly.

He could manifest the gateway beside him without effort.

Riley held his card, after all.

One notion would place him there in a flash.

But—

Where lay the thrill in that?

He cocked his head, musing on a grand entrance, a sinister murmur, or maybe a topsy-turvy drop from above to catch Riley off guard.

"Mmm... maybe I should at least announce myself first~"

He poised to proceed—

When abruptly—

His frame spasmed.

Every hair bristled.

"...What?"

The merry smirk dissolved.

In its stead rose keen vigilance, irises shrinking to lines as gut feeling overrode logic.

Swiftly, Cheshire cloaked himself in dense scarlet force, the crimson sheen contracting as misty gray engulfed him completely.

His essence muted, weaving through folds of actuality like a concealed whisper.

Concealed still—

He sensed it.

"...Tch."

Cheshire’s murmur turned unusually hushed.

"Why is she watching?"

A dragon eyed the full north.