How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 685: Frost Queen 4

A peculiar morning had dawned.

High above, the sun beamed down softly and warmly, while a light breeze wafted inside via the wide-open windows, bringing hints of fragrant blossoms from the academy's gardens.

Everything suggested it ought to be a serene start to the day.

However, a nagging discomfort twisted through Lily's core.

With precise and hushed motions, she brewed a cup of tea for her lady, though her gaze repeatedly darted toward Liyana.

At first glance, her lady appeared as flawless and lovely as always—poised elegantly, face serene, hands gently holding the fine porcelain cup.

But Lily sensed the truth beneath.

Since Riley and his prospective future brides had come back to the academy, a shadow had quietly fallen over Liyana's demeanor.

Not through any dramatic displays or harsh remarks—no tantrums or cutting comments—but via a heavy quietness that weighed on the atmosphere, leaving the staff treading lightly without fully grasping the cause.

And at this moment...

Liyana was grinning.

Not her typical mischievous grin. Nor the polite one she showed in company.

This grin shone vividly. Intense. Nearly... eager.

Lily gulped down her nerves.

Her lady gazed at the tea with uncommon fascination, like the cup concealed some captivating mystery.

That sight alone sent chills racing over Lily's skin.

Through months of attending Liyana up close, she had learned a crucial truth:

Liyana only grinned that way when scheming.

A scheme full of peril.

I shouldn't disturb her plans at all...

The previous occasion when Lily had unwittingly spoken up at an inopportune time—merely disrupting her focus a bit—those calm red eyes had fixed on her.

Lily had sensed her spirit being judged and deemed insufficient.

Whatever filled Liyana's mind right now stayed beyond Lily's concern.

Utterly beyond.

Firm in that resolve, Lily proceeded with utmost caution.

She entered Liyana's line of sight only briefly to set down the newly prepared tea beside her, positioning it tidily, fingers firm even as her pulse raced wildly.

Then she pivoted, set to depart quietly—maybe to inform the chief servant, or ideally, to create the widest gap possible between her and this chamber.

Yet—

Her petite frame jolted when a hand abruptly seized her sleeve.

A wave of ice flooded through Lily.

Oh no... death awaits me.

That one soft hold alone ignited raw fear in her heart. Her legs almost buckled, leaving her rooted to the spot.

"M-Miss...?" Lily's words quivered, no matter how she tried to steady them.

"Stay," Liyana replied in a gentle tone.

The order came without raised volume.

It required none.

"B-But—" Lily began, then cut herself off right away. "I... I'll follow your desire..."

She understood arguing would be unwise at this point.

Liyana's grin remained unchanged.

With elegant ease, she raised the porcelain cup, her action smooth and polished, and savored a leisurely taste of the tea.

Vapor grazed her mouth as her slit pupils—keen and clearly dragon-like—shone in a rich, glowing red.

"Seems like my dear one is up to something intriguing once more..." she whispered lightly.

In those red eyes mirrored the figure of her cherished Riley, journeying across the icy northern territories alongside Snow.

Boundless snowy fields lay underfoot, with ice and peril gripping each stride.

It had been ages since she could watch Riley so freely.

Usually, the cursed boons from that vile goddess encircling him would have shielded him from her view completely.

Even at the academy, that crimson power—strangely akin to the defeated White Queen—had disrupted her gaze, stopping her from observing him up close.

But currently...

With portions of her restraints now relaxed.

Her dragon sight could at last break through.

Does it stem from yet another supreme power colliding with those tied to Riley?

She had no answer.

And unusually... it didn't bother her.

The key point was seeing him anew after such a stretch—clearly, without barriers.

Observing his actions, his looks, the faint manner in which his aura warped the surroundings.

The edges of her mouth lifted a touch more.

Shall I catch him off guard?

The notion of instantly shifting to his location brought a spark of fun to her thoughts.

Materializing abruptly, embracing him tightly, seeing that well-known flash of surprise on his features...

How entertaining.

However—

No...

Her grin eased, yet the claiming spark in her eyes stayed sharp.

Her dear would probe her motives.

Riley possessed too keen an insight for his benefit. He'd inquire about her arrival, her method of locating him, her secrets. And more troubling... he could become wary.

Or let down.

Maybe even bitter.

Such an outcome would prove... vexing.

Riley meant the world to her. Beyond all others here.

And though the impulse to confine him—secure, unspoiled, eternally hers—murmured temptingly in her subconscious, she refrained from yielding to it presently.

Not at this stage.

Endurance ranked among her strongest traits.

Thus, Liyana just grinned, her fingertips brushing the heated porcelain as she enjoyed another unhurried sip of tea. She would observe. She would bide her time.

In the end—

Their reunion loomed near.

.....

"Here marks your doom, you wretched trespassers!"

The bold claim reverberated across the icy corridors as Riley and Snow passed into the dungeon's core, remnants of the fight still hanging in the air behind.

Broken ice shards and vanishing frost showed where the beasts surging from the portal had fallen just before.

Within, the chill shifted.

Not the sharp bite from northern gales, nor the innate freeze from frost-spawned beasts.

This chill overwhelmed, felt artificial—thick enough to stick to flesh, to invade bones and mana both.

The very atmosphere weighed down, each inhale producing a ghostly vapor.

A band of men in dark robes awaited them.

Hideous etchings—distorted runes seared and sliced into skin—flickered dimly under their clothes, throbbing with a foul red glow that jarred against the dungeon's pale and azure tones.

Despite the harsh freeze, the hooded ones stood at ease, like the setting embraced them.

In their midst loomed an elderly figure.

He advanced with limbs flung open, behaving as if greeting esteemed visitors instead of foes.

His mouth widened into an ecstatic leer, gaze alight with wild joy.

"Tsk! Tsk! Haah~"

he tutted, tone laced with feigned sorrow.

"Such innocent, hapless spirits venturing so far... Is this the finale? The true end?"

He cocked his head, drawing in a deep breath as though relishing their aura.

"What a sorrow,"

he went on, phrases tumbling in rapturous ramble.

"Spirits so pure, untouched by loyalty, yet chained by destiny—gripped by such weak bonds—and yet you march right to us."

His cackle bounced harshly off the frosted barriers.

"Oh, divine one... oddities," the elder whispered, pressing palms in mock piety.

"Has destiny itself splintered at last? Will these noble saviors fall here, robbed of their fated path?"

He quivered with glee.

"Oh yes... so tragic."

Snow's face grew stern, her hold on the wand firming quietly. She edged closer to Riley, tone hushed and steady.

"Riley... these are—"

"Yeah," Riley answered softly, his stare already icy and vigilant.

No deliberation was required.

Devotees of demons.

Or perhaps even.

Followers of a dark deity.

No matter their label, the verdict stood clear—these weren't simple lunatics lurking in shadows, but structured, perilous zealots.

And abruptly, it all clicked.

The eerie unity among the creatures.

The enclosures.

The bindings.

The reality of humans collected, shuttled... safeguarded.

Riley's eyes narrowed as they scanned the robed group.

Ah, so that's the scheme...

These folks weren't prey for sustenance.

They served as tributes.

With rising incidents of demon and dark-god followers lately, the odds of such factions expanding over the continent's areas had mounted.

Even so, Riley hadn't foreseen running into them here—in a northern dungeon, no less.

The atmosphere stank of mortality.

Not the fresh tang of combat-felled monsters, but a deeper rot—stale gore, rotting meat, and echoes of agony.

Any humans seized and hauled here were likely deceased... or enduring what passed for living only as extended agony rather than existence.

Riley's jaw clenched.

These individuals were unhinged, their sanity worn away by obsessive faith. If anything, that suggested they couldn't mastermind the monsters' precise synergy.

Deranged sorts seldom managed such exactness.

Yet they clearly played a role.

Riley's azure gaze shimmered subtly as he honed in on the fanatics, channeling mana to heighten his senses.

...Odd.

The aura adhering to them—slender, twisted, and intrusive—rang a bell.

Not exact, but near enough to disturb.

Where did I sense this previously...?

His thoughts raced through prior clashes.

Mighty deities such as Eris or Erebil, their essence still etched like wounds on his being... even the tiger deity from a fleeting past meeting.

The Demon King Asmodeus also flashed in his mind.

None aligned perfectly.