How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 697: Frozen Trials 9

Celestine Laffele.

A youthful and stunning girl residing in a northern continental village.

The settlement was substantial—more expansive than typical for an area blanketed in snow for half the year.

Sturdy wooden homes withstood the gales, their roofs layered heavily in ice, while chimneys exhaled slender wisps of smoke nonstop.

Existence in this place proved challenging.

Yet the inhabitants were resilient.

Hardy. Unyielding. Accustomed to struggles.

Still, they grinned frequently.

Perhaps because in a realm where chill lingers eternally, human connection's heat holds greater value.

"...Once more, I'm inhabiting someone else's existence..."

Snow whispered softly to herself.

Positioned beside the window in her current chamber, a magic tome lay open tidily on the nearby desk.

With one tiny palm propping her face, she gazed outward, her look remote.

Frost lightly rimmed the glass edges, yet visibility remained adequate.

Kids roughly her age frolicked amid the snowfall.

Giggling.

Dashing about.

"Hey! Stop aiming only at me!"

"Bleeh! You're playing the monster this time, so you must get taken down!"

"That's not fair! Weren't you meant to act as a knight?!"

A slender lad positioned himself centrally in the courtyard, attempting to defend against the barrage.

He appeared smaller compared to his peers.

Not drastically—but sufficiently to draw notice.

"Haha! Now I'm a mage, so eat this, Demon King!"

"Count me in—take that!"

Snowballs soared swiftly across the sky.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Every one struck the lone boy.

He staggered rearward, cheeks flushed—not due to the freeze.

Due to humiliation.

Snow observed in silence.

The truth was evident.

This went beyond mere play.

It constituted harassment.

"Kids..." she sighed faintly.

Weary.

Her eyes returned to the magic volume on the desk.

Page borders showed wear from repeated handling.

Several tips were folded.

Ink in some illustrations had dimmed from frequent finger tracings.

She had pored over this volume countless times, nearly memorizing its contents.

That came as no shock.

It served as a basic primer on magic.

The sort distributed to youngsters mastering mana circulation, output regulation, and elemental shaping.

Even within the imperial palace, this framework—fundamental principles, mana pathways, elemental inclinations—was widely recognized.

Nothing remarkable distinguished it.

Precisely that fact irked her.

Three months had passed since her immersion into Celestine's role.

A complete trio of months in this reality.

And she had discerned several key insights.

Firstly—this ordeal seemed authentic.

Similar to the prior trial, the environment formed no vague phantasm.

This constituted the actual realm.

Or at least a juncture in its chronology.

In her prior existence, she overlooked northern regions, but as royalty, she acknowledged such hamlets endured.

Isolated, severe, and frequently overlooked.

The icy north sprawled immensely.

And mercilessly.

Secondly—she wielded magic without restraint here.

Even more so than anticipated.

She raised her diminutive hand marginally, sensing mana flowing through her vessels.

Fluid.

Receptive. Nearly enthusiastic.

Though this form lacked the immense might of her former self, its predisposition toward ice sorcery proved... extraordinary.

Beyond mere aptitude.

It felt innate.

Mana reacted to her intentions effortlessly, chill amassing at her digits sans opposition—it mirrored her youthful days alarmingly, save for...

Being superior.

Purer.

Sharper.

It disturbed her deeply.

Could this represent her potential under altered circumstances?

Or merely the Frost Queen's sway?

Thirdly—

She shut the tome deliberately.

The locals despised them.

Her.

And her mom.

Over motives so trivial they bordered on absurdity.

Their allure was excessive.

Their poise unmatched.

Their strength overwhelming.

Their uniqueness glaring.

Murmurs trailed them through the bazaar.

Talks halted upon their passage.

Youngsters received hushed cautions against proximity.

"I suppose to ordinary folks... Mom and I come across as real freaks."

She propped her chin on her hand anew, peering at the frost-laden lanes outside.

"I wonder if this mirrors how everyday people see most aristocrats and royals..."

She suspected neither she nor her mother held noble rank. No manor. No attendants. No evident rank.

Yet allure and prowess sufficed to foster separation.

To breed terror.

And terror, if unchecked over time—

Evolved into animosity.

Beyond the window, the scrawny youth had at last evaded the pack.

He dusted off powdery residue from his garments silently as the rest shifted to fresh amusements, acting as if prior events never transpired.

Snow's attention dwelt on him briefly.

"I suppose... the mighty and the frail share similarities in the end..."

Snow uttered under her breath.

Be it potent or feeble, humans invariably repeated the pattern.

They shunned the incomprehensible.

They dreaded the anomalous.

And dread transformed more readily into malice than tolerance.

Out there, the young ones resumed their boisterous pursuits gradually.

Chuckles.

Quarrels.

Boots grinding into the snow.

Abruptly—

Silence fell.

"H-Hey... over there!"

"It's the witch."

"We wandered too near her home..."

"Mom's gonna chew me out over this."

"Better if we leave."

"Right. Let's split."

Their prior boldness evaporated in a flash.

Retreat commenced, gazes averted from the figure advancing from their rear.

Snow traced their stares.

A lady progressed leisurely down the powdery trail toward the dwelling right behind the kids' spot.

Celestine's abode.

Her mom.

From afar, she evoked no dread.

Her advance was serene, lengthy coat sweeping the pale terrain.

Yet a faint quality marked her stride.

It resembled less treading upon snow.

More like floating above it.

No crunch echoed underfoot.

No depression formed.

The frost yielded before her.

To the young, that sufficed to ignite alarm.

The cluster inched back, tiny grips quivering faintly.

Save for a single exception.

"Hah! Why fear such a thing? She's merely a frail witch!"

The brash tone shattered the quiet.

Snow identified him at once.

Erik.

The very lad who lobbed the largest snow projectiles at the slim child before.

"Shh! Erik, what're you up to? She'll catch your words!" a youngster hissed in haste.

Erik sneered.

"You all are utter wimps. Dad says a guy aiming for strength won't cower before any witch. And I bet she's not even one! Just ill, like Mom claims!"

"Still, she might prove hazardous—"

"Tsk! Tsk!" Erik dismissed them. "Observe. I'll prove she's nothing against me. No true knight-to-be fears anybody!"

Snow's digits clenched marginally on the sill.

Boldness.

Naivety.

A perilous blend.

Erik stooped rapidly, gathering a hefty snow clump.

He compressed it firmly, rendering it denser than previous tosses.

Then, sans pause—

He launched it directly at the lady.

The snowball sliced the atmosphere.

For an instant, hush enveloped all.

Excessively still.

The remaining children inhaled sharply.

Snow's gaze intensified.

The snowball hurtled toward her mother's visage—

However.

It failed to approach within a meter.

Abruptly dispersing into pale vapor.

"W-What?"

Erik's eyes widened in shock, mirroring the others' stunned stares.

As the woman pivoted to regard them.

Tremors seized them all before her ashen gaze.

"R-RUN!!!"

A child yelled.

"She's a witch!"

The snowball never neared.

A delicate frost barrier materialized ahead of the woman's features, unbidden by gesture.

The snow fragmented gently upon it, crumbling into innocuous dust that drifted earthward.

The children stiffened.

For a fleeting half-second, breath halted among them.

Then—

Flight ensued.

Every one bolted.

Erik included.

The aspiring knight glanced not rearward while dashing after the group, footwear skidding on the snow in frenzy.

The lady merely cocked her head faintly, puzzled by the abrupt uproar.

"...?"

She observed the six diminutive shapes vanish along the route.

Moments later, a gentle head shake followed, and she pressed onward.

"I’m back," she announced softly upon entering the home.

"Welcome back, Mother!"

Celestine—Snow—lingered by the doorway in anticipation.

Her childish tone rang cheerful. Affectionate.

Her mother's face lit with a grin at the view.

"Fufu, apologies for the delay, Celestine. The marketplace feels rather deserted of late."

Snow grasped the implication.

Barren racks posed no problem.

The folk did.

The murmurs.

The intentional postponements.

Merchants prioritizing others.

Likely, her mother extended her stay to sidestep escalating friction.

Yet Snow refrained from noting it.

"I understand. No worries, Mother. The extra time let me delve deeper into studies."

A soft laugh escaped her mother as the basket descended.

"Indeed? Such dedication. So, you've completed the tome by now?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!"

She advanced, caressing Celestine's crown tenderly.

The contact conveyed warmth.

"Hehe~" Snow emitted a tiny giggle.

Her sight drifted marginally.

"Incidentally, Mother... I spotted some kids frolicking outdoors. Um... did they cause any trouble, maybe?"

Her mother hesitated briefly.

Then a light chuckle emerged.

Snow detected it.

That intentional mildness in her inflection.

"Oh, those? I noticed their flight too. But nothing occurred on their part."

Snow's expression shadowed subtly.

Barely perceptible to outsiders.

But sufficient.

"I understand... Um... do you recognize them, by chance?"

Her tone held firm.

Overly firm for youth.

Her mother angled her head, entertained.

Celestine's manner of speech often struck oddly. Serene. Perceptive. Akin to a miniature grown-up rather than a peer-aged tot.

Yet she never probed.

"Not precisely," her mother answered. "Likely from homes a bit distant. Our adjacent folk, in a sense."

A subtle smile formed.

"Well... if one considers them neighbors given the space, haha."

"I see..."

Snow averted her eyes downward.

Thus, they dwelled close by.

Her mother proceeded to the compact cooking space, murmuring a tune while sorting scant purchases.

"...They didn’t do anything," Snow echoed gently to herself.

Her petite fingers balled faintly beside her.

Her mother halted midway and pivoted partially.

Celestine had trailed silently to the culinary zone, positioned overly near, scrutinizing overly intently.

Such curiosity about peers was uncharacteristic.

Celestine seldom expressed play desires. No gripes. No outdoor pleas. No solitude mentions.

Why this instance?

Realization dawned.

"Celestine..." her mother’s timbre gentled. "Mother regrets..."

"Hn?" Snow glanced upward innocently. "Apologizing for what?"

Her mother crouched to align their views.

"You wish for companions, right?"

Snow tensed momentarily.

"I realize... Mother’s expectations have grown taxing recently," the lady proceeded mildly. "But trust me, clarity arrives soon. Just additional volumes. Further magical practice. Rewards await then."

Her palm settled lightly on Celestine’s petite frame.

"I promise."

Snow regarded her fixedly.

So that's her assumption...

The seclusion.

The rigorous lessons.

The limits on roaming.

Beyond safeguarding.

It prepared.

"Hm?" Snow cocked her head, then beamed vibrantly. "Friends don't matter to me, Mother. With you present, all is well!"

The words flowed effortlessly.

Almost excessively so.

Her mother's form quivered subtly at the declaration.

Imperceptible to outsiders.

But Snow sensed it.

Briefly, the maternal grasp firmed on her.

Followed the grin.

Toasty.

Commending.

Yet veiling profundity.

Despite imposed solitude on her offspring...

Despite awareness of Celestine's scant outings and peerless interactions...

Fortune granted a compliant daughter.

Who voiced no protests.

Who sought not.

Who accused not.

And shortly—

She would impose upon this very child a load far weightier than isolation.

An unbidden encumbrance for Celestine.

Remorse flickered transiently in her stare.

Acute. Agonizing.

Vanished as swiftly.

She quelled it.

Sealed it within.

"I see," she murmured tenderly. "Such a fine daughter I possess~"

Another crown pat followed, digits delaying longer now.

Snow lifted her eyes silently.

And therein, she perceived it.

A steadfast determination embedding profoundly in her mother’s eyes.