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

Huff...!

Huff...!

Every inhale ripped through his chest like jagged shards of ice.

White frost billowed from his lips in dense clouds while the enormous giant dashed onward, his bulky form smashing across the wide snow plains wedged between a pair of soaring northern peaks.

Each footfall shook the icy earth, leaving deep imprints that split the frozen surface below.

Blood trailed across the snow in his wake.

His right arm—missing.

Not sliced off neatly, but torn free in a savage rush he could scarcely recall.

The ragged end throbbed with endless torment, nerves howling, flesh frozen and exposed.

Ice gripped the injury, binding it barely sufficient to sustain his life.

Torturous.

Yet kind.

"I... must reach the chieftain..." he rasped, tone rough, hardly staying intact.

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

Until this moment.

Groaagh!

Huaaaghh!!

Ferocious bellows boomed from behind.

His followers—no, his kin—remained locked in battle.

Not aiming for victory.

Not even to halt the foes.

Merely to slow them down.

Beyond him, the icy skyline blazed with turmoil. Snow burst into fragments.

Enormous forms collapsed. Frostborn monsters—beasts that once sent whole human legions scattering—were getting ripped to pieces with horrifying speed.

Their ranks were immense.

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

And still...

Their adversaries numbered just two humans.

Two.

They had massacred the border guards with near-mocking simplicity, slicing through ranks like they were mere vapor.

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

And paid the price.

Swiiishh—!!

BOOM!

That recollection caused his stride to stumble.

Why...?

Why this defeat?

The Frost Queen had granted them 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—

They failed to grasp what occurred.

Simply—

Obliteration.

Kaltan gripped his sole remaining fist.

Their commands rang clear: block the invaders.

Prevent them from nearing the dungeon.

Yet now, those commands held no weight.

What counted was the alert.

He needed to inform them.

If not the queen... then surely the chieftain.

For Kaltan stood apart.

Born bearing Mystic Eyes, an uncommon anomaly even for frost giants—eyes capable of catching glimpses of reality when fixed on being itself.

And as his stare had fixed on one of the humans—

Only for a split second—

He had perceived it.

Not power.

Not mana.

But a far graver force.

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

A aura stacked with command, godhood, and an oddly recognizable essence—

Something alien to this realm.

His legs had almost given way right then.

Now, horror propelled his flight.

"That thing..." Kaltan muttered roughly, ice forming on his mouth.

"...is not human."

Uaghhc...!!!

The instant his thoughts returned to that human, Kaltan's sight twisted.

Foam frothed from his mouth as blood gushed between his lips, staining the snow with dark, steaming spots.

His huge frame lurched ahead before halting at last, knees sinking into the iced soil.

"Ghh...!"

He balled his leftover left fist and pounded it to his torso, attempting to calm the fierce reaction ravaging his form—mana whirling wildly, his Mystic Eyes wailing from the sight they had endured.

Yet before another breath could enter—

[MID GRADE: ICE MAGIC]

[FROST LANCE]

SWOOOSHHH—!!!

A piercing wail sliced the sky.

A spear of solid ice, compact and blade-like, hurtled ahead, dragging pale-blue frost trails like a shooting star.

It slammed from the rear with ruthless accuracy, stabbing clean through Kaltan’s body—

—skewering his arm

—plunging into his torso

—nailing his left hand down as it gripped his heart.

Crackle...!

The ice expanded right away.

Chill crept over his hide like animated bindings, solidifying sinew, skeleton, and blood without mercy. His vessels paled to azure. His exhale halted in frost.

A frostborn.

And still—

The freeze was ending him.

RAAAGHHH!!!

His bellow burst forth, crude and savage, threaded with desperate mana.

The soil quaked under him, the very atmosphere quivering as though rejecting his looming end.

From the back, steady footfalls drew near.

"For a beast that revels in the agonized cries of others,"

Snow said calmly, her breath fogging as she observed his thrashing,

"he's awfully noisy."

Riley eyed the iced colossus with faint curiosity.

"Well, your spells aren't precisely the calming sort."

"I've restrained myself plenty, you know," Snow answered, tone even.

"This level of suffering barely scratches what these monsters deserve."

She stepped nearer, boots grinding lightly on the frost.

Her pale cloak swayed gently in the wintry gust as she paused in front of the almost encased frost giant.

Her look remained impartial—not vengeful or vicious.

Simply remote.

"Giant."

"Ku—GHCK...!"

Kaltan’s jaw quivered while iced blood splintered along his mouth. His gaze blazed with rage even as his frame betrayed him.

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

Snow lifted her wand a touch, stare keen.

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

At her words—

Kaltan chuckled.

A fractured, gravelly noise rising amid ice and gore.

"Hah... hahah..."

His exhales emerged in iced puffs.

"As if... I’d ever tell you..."

Snow regarded him for a short while more.

Then she breathed out gently.

Snap.

She clicked her fingers.

In a flash, the chill intensified.

Kaltan’s whole form turned to solid ice—face fixed in rebellious frenzy—before breaking into pieces with a crisp, glassy shatter, bursting into shards of frost and pale vapor that dispersed on the breeze.

Quiet settled over the snowy expanse.

Snow dropped her hand, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face.

"...Their loyalty feels unsettling," she whispered.

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

Monsters ought to be brainless—fueled by appetite, urge, ruin.

But the foes they had battled thus far—

They obeyed directives.

They guarded lands.

They shielded mysteries.

Someone—or some force—was directing them.

...

It unfolded as they pushed onward to the dungeon.

The light afar was now plain to see—not merely a mana-sensed aura, but a solid beacon carved into the skyline.

Charging directly at it ought to have been the quickest path.

And yet—

The further they ventured into the woods and fog-shrouded white fields, the more off-kilter the surroundings seemed.

The atmosphere shifted at first.

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

Blood.

Stale blood, iced blood, blood that had drenched the snow and lingered unyielding.

Snow eased her pace.

Skeletons dotted the terrain, partially sunk under rime.

Some lay in ruins, others eerily pristine, denuded of meat with calculated care.

Scattered about were frozen corpses—contorted forms that had been humans, their last looks sealed in horror under sheets of ice.

But that failed to capture the horror.

Thick chains sprawled over the snow, some broken, others fixed in position.

Gigantic metal enclosures—warped, ripped apart, or hauled off—loomed forsaken like symbols of woe.

And weaving through it all were colossal tracks, sunk deep into the ground and now partly blanketed by new flakes.

They lacked chaos.

They traced trails.

Passages.

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

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

"Yeah."

Riley dipped his head gradually, face growing somber.

Even within the game, this area had been savage—but not to this degree.

He recalled beasts that stalked humans, beasts that seized them for a time before consuming them after.

Rough cords.

Brief containment spots. Raw pragmatism.

But this—

This smacked of organization.

Enclosures.

Bindings.

Haulage lines.

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

"They’re collecting."

And hanging in the breeze was another element.

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

Familiar...

"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 for a beat.

Her stare fixed on a wrecked enclosure, grip firming around her wand.

The matter grew thornier with each passing instant.

Riley let out a soft breath.

He could extract truths—yank facts straight from the core using his divinity if desired.

But he refrained.

Attracting notice now might summon her.

Erebil was tied by her vow, true—but deities and divine beings excelled at evasions.

He refused to offer her the tiniest pretext to meddle.

He felt assured.

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

But—

Merely as precaution.

Riley reached into his coat and grazed his digits over a tiny red card bearing a lone feline eye in its middle.

A backup.

Snow’s well-being took priority.

He channeled a subtle surge of mana into it.

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

Snow remained unaware.

She had resumed her advance.

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

Together, they forged ahead, strides cautious, awareness keen.

Around 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 curved her lips in a faint smile.

It was a delicate expression, scarcely noticeable, but as it formed, her pale, gem-like eyes gleamed softly, like the frost had awakened in kind.

"...How interesting."

Her tone resonated gently across the grand space, borne on mana woven with chill that throbbed lightly with her words.

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

She propped her chin on her palm, ivory digits still, bearing graceful and at ease—yet the atmosphere near her grew subtly denser.

"And yet..."

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

Her sight wandered past the iced barriers, cutting through space, landscape, and veils of existence.

"How curious..."

For millennia she had stayed anchored here.

A ruler of frost, sealed inside her own territory.

Via her mystic eyes of clairvoyance, she had observed the outer realm surge and crumble—empires crumbling to ash, champions forging myths, fiends shifting guises and titles.

She had viewed the rise of faiths, the erosion of deities, and the silent vanishing of whole peoples.

Scarcely anything astonished her now.

Yet—

This one did.

The youth striding with her destined successor differed from all she had beheld.

He wielded divinity.

That stood beyond doubt.

But it lacked the refined glow of a deity, nor the pilfered shards borne by sham saints and favored warriors.

His divinity twisted—overlapped, curbed, coiled tight like a weapon veiled in cloth.

It seemed... off.

Not threatening right away—

And yet—

Threatening in all else.

"...Fascinating."

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

A tender grin deepened on her mouth as she voiced thoughts for her ears alone, her tone melting into the frosty quiet of the chamber.

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

At her side, the ice lizardman servant tensed.

He had been in the midst of 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 laboriously compiled....

...

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

A shape grinned.

Gray vapor swirled idly around a hovering outline as a palm dipped into a pouch that defied logic, drawing out a known card adorned with narrow, cat-slit eyes.

The card throbbed softly, red radiance leaking from its borders.

Cheshire smirked.

"Oh my~"

His tail flicked casually while delight danced in his uneven gaze.

"This is new."

With his full flair, conceit, and dramatic flair, Cheshire found himself truly captivated.

After all, this marked the initial occasion Riley had summoned him on purpose—not by accident, not by fallout, but by deliberate will.

The grin on his features broadened.

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

His tone rang with whimsical poise, each word drenched in roguery and taunt as the fabric of the world yielded before him.

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

The second he glanced out—

Cold.

A crushing, stinging chill battered his senses, keen enough that even one like him sensed it piercing his hide.

"...Brr."

His ears flicked.

"Is this the north?"

The gateway lingered high in the heavens, offering him a bird's-eye sweep of boundless white fields, ragged summits, chilled woodlands, and mana so thick it warped the breeze.

The terrain beneath felt amiss—oppressive, steeped in an outsider's resolve that had seized control of the zone long ago.

Cheshire’s eyes scanned about with zeal.

"Now where is he~?"

A moment ticked by.

Then—

"Ah~ found you~"

Deep below, two shapes traversed the flakes—one plainly recognizable.

Riley.

Cheshire laughed lightly.

He could part the gateway beside him in an instant.

After all, Riley possessed his card.

A mere notion would place him at his flank without delay.

But—

Where lay the thrill in that?

He cocked his head, musing on whether to plunge in with flair, murmur forebodingly, or maybe drop headfirst from above to catch Riley off guard.

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

He poised to proceed—

When abruptly—

His form spasmed.

Every hair bristled upright.

"...What?"

The merry smirk dissolved.

In its stead rose keen vigilance, pupils contracting to lines as gut feeling overrode logic entirely.

Without pause, Cheshire cloaked himself in dense scarlet power, the crimson sheen curling tight as ashen mist engulfed him completely.

His essence faded, weaving through folds of existence like a hidden whisper.

Even concealed—

He sensed it.

"...Tch."

Cheshire’s tone fell to an uncommon hush.

"Why is she watching?"

A dragon eyed the whole north.