How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 694: Frozen Trials 7

Riley had been aware of this fact for quite some time.

The Frost Queen held complete dominance in this place.

Without ever needing to elevate her tone.

Without issuing any threats to others.

He detected it—that subtle wave of discontent rippling through the servants whenever she issued particular commands.

The generals beyond the doors?

They weren't fully content either.

A few still harbored silent grudges from the slaughter he had unleashed.

Yet the instant she uttered a word...

It ceased.

This wasn't mere unquestioning devotion.

It stemmed from an acknowledgment of her strength.

Riley possessed limited knowledge about her.

Not concerning her history.

Not regarding the experiences that molded her into such a leader.

Thus, witnessing this aspect of her proved... intriguing.

He couldn't claim the same for the earlier White Queen.

During that period, circumstances varied greatly.

The White Queen's tale—her sorrow, her decisions—were intricately linked to Alice.

To Alice's emotions.

To Alice's storylines.

Riley had participated, indeed.

However, he hadn't fully comprehended her.

And at times, that regret lingered.

He lamented not delving deeper into that isolated queen's life before it was too late.

Presently, positioned opposite the Frost Queen, he experienced a subtle pull of engagement.

Intrigue.

Not desire.

Not pity.

Simply... a desire to comprehend.

She exuded strength. Serenity. Aloofness.

Nevertheless, layers clearly lay hidden beneath that facade.

Yet she disclosed scarcely anything.

The Frost Queen resumed her silent gaze upon him once more.

Not with hostility.

Not even with inquisitiveness.

Merely watching.

As if he were an element of a enigma she sought to fit precisely.

Riley reclined a bit, drifting into his personal reflections.

At this point... Snow ought to be immersed in her second challenge.

Or perhaps concluding it.

The initial one had posed difficulties. Such tests could extend if one misconstrued their essence.

However, Snow wasn't prone to lingering delays.

If the challenge demanded insight into command, supremacy, or restraint...

She would discern it.

Thus, she was likely advancing to the second.

Or possibly the third.

His features altered subtly.

Dungeons tended to exploit vulnerabilities.

And Snow...

She seldom displayed them.

But absence of display didn't imply their nonexistence.

Six challenges comprised the sequence.

Though not every one was assured.

Should Snow master the second challenge adequately, the route would condense. It would reduce to three.

That formed the intended design.

The fundamental framework remained straightforward.

1st trial — Authority.

2nd trial — Beauty and Acceptance.

3rd trial — Absolute.

These three stood as the primary supports.

The others—fourth through sixth—emerged only if she faltered at the second.

The challenges avoided reliance on raw force. Even within the game, they unfolded as intricate enigmas. Solutions always lingered—concealed amid metaphors, sentiments, and individual weaknesses.

No guidelines.

No clues.

Only situations.

One either grasped the crux... or failed to.

And currently, all depended on the second.

Beauty and Acceptance.

Riley breathed out softly.

Snow... despite her denials... harbored a profound pride in her allure.

It wasn't superficial vanity.

It wasn't the sort that belittled others.

Yet she recognized her own beauty.

She had perpetually been revered. Perpetually the focal point without effort. Her grace flowed innately rather than acquired.

And she cherished that aspect.

It formed a core of her being.

Forfeiting it wouldn't qualify as minor.

The second trial transcended mere vanity.

It probed whether her self-perception anchored to her looks.

If her beauty vanished...

Would she persist as Snow?

Or would an inner part shatter?

Riley shut his eyes momentarily.

He understood her more thoroughly these days.

More than previously.

She lacked fragility.

She lacked superficiality.

He trusted she would eventually embrace the altered state.

However, embracing didn't equate to immediate tranquility.

It demanded duration.

And considering dungeon mechanics... the Frost Queen probably wasn't limiting it to mere "accept and contemplate."

She was orchestrating something.

A circumstance.

A catalyst.

An element that would compel Snow to face it head-on rather than gradually adjust.

And based on Snow's response—

The dungeon would either unlock the onward path.

Or pull her further in.

Yet one detail nagged at him persistently.

The Frost Queen had appeared excessively forthcoming.

Excessively composed.

Excessively straightforward.

She discussed Snow without pause.

About Riley.

About possible results.

No evident effort to meddle, no covert scheming he could perceive.

Was she genuinely striving to deliver Snow a fitting test?

Or...

Was she entirely unopposed to it?

Riley grasped one certainty—the Frost Queen sought an appropriate successor.

That defined the core of this storyline.

But the test's resolution would impact beyond Snow's development.

Contingent on Snow's selection... the Frost Queen would meet her conclusion.

Two possible endings existed.

One where the Frost Queen vanished—superseded.

And one where she endured.

However, endurance carried a price.

Subordination.

For an elevated entity—that scarcely qualified as mild penalty.

Riley comprehended that more than many.

Lavine.

The Grand Magus. Formerly a colossal presence who reigned autonomously atop magical heights. Now tethered as his familiar.

Lavine never voiced complaints aloud.

But Riley discerned it.

That perpetual sensation of bondage to another's command... it proved uncomfortable.

For entities who once operated solo, liberty signified all.

And the Frost Queen?

With her poised, commanding, nearly arrogant impartiality—

He questioned whether she would relish submission to another.

Particularly Snow's.

This prompted yet another inquiry.

Does she truly comprehend the consequences when Snow claims the [Frost Staff]?

Riley's gaze sharpened a touch.

The [Frost Staff] extended beyond mere symbolism.

It ranked among the scarce Mythical-tier artifacts across the globe.

And Mythical-tier artifacts deviated from standard armaments.

They surpassed even legendary relics.

They resembled godly powers solidified into tangible shape.

For comparison—

The Red Crown Alice donned during her Red Queen transformation qualifies as a Mythical-ranked item.

It didn't merely amplify her might.

It reshaped the surrounding conflict.

And Riley's [Valeria]

Should Riley unleash his divinity completely, even she might enter that classification.

In basic terms—

Mythical-ranked items functioned as exploits.

They could reverse results.

Alter destinies.

Affect the world at large.

The Frost Staff mirrored this.

The instant Snow seized it and embraced its power—

The equilibrium of this vast icy realm would tilt.

Irrevocably.

Riley sighed inwardly.

He eased back in his icy seat, the frost emitting a soft groan beneath his movement. His gaze remained fixed on her.

"I'll just inquire, to confirm, but... you do fully grasp what you're attempting here, correct?"

He concealed none of the implication.

If Snow triumphed.

If she claimed the Staff.

If the inheritance concluded—

The Frost Queen's dominion would terminate.

"...Yes," she replied evenly. "Thus, no cause for hostility exists between us."

Her voice held firmness. Devoid of resentment. Devoid of sorrow.

Riley observed her a bit longer.

"Then what of those you're about to forsake shortly?"

He motioned lightly toward the entrance.

Toward the generals beyond.

Toward the attendants along the walls.

Toward the whole icy territory under her sway.

"They remain devoted to you," he pressed. "You serve as their queen."

A short hush ensued.

"...I shall release them," she stated finally. "Upon the new queen's arrival, their destinies will then be determined."

"I see..."

That response lacked chill.

It simply conveyed... remoteness.

Like an individual who had already withdrawn halfway from her seat of power.

For an instant, their eyes met.

Then—

Her eyes shimmered with a pale glow.

The atmosphere altered.

She directed her attention elsewhere.

Toward Snow.

Overseeing her advancement.

The moment had arrived.

The first challenge resolved too swiftly.

Authority.

Snow intuitively comprehended it.

So inevitably...

The second demanded greater difficulty.

Beauty and Acceptance.

Beyond superficial compliance.

She needed to embrace her circumstances inwardly and outwardly.

She had to embody it.

Adopt it.

Not through quiet endurance.

But with grace.

With joy.

That captured the trial's true core.

Should Snow merely bear it while inwardly holding to her former self—

It wouldn't suffice.

Acceptance transcended mere endurance of shame.

It involved releasing what shaped you... and yet retaining a smile.

The Frost Queen's mouth curved subtly.

In her grasp, concealed from Riley, ice coalesced.

A petite form emerged from the frost.

An impeccable replica.

Meticulously crafted.

Polished.

If Snow adjusted too effortlessly, the intensity would escalate.

If she opposed silently, the surroundings would resist.

She would undergo thorough examination.

The Frost Queen's grin intensified slightly.

Ultimately—

A queen deserving of the Frost Staff couldn't limit her rule to times of beauty.

...

A span of one month and two weeks elapsed in a hazy rush.

Eventually, Snow ceased tracking the days.

She had acclimated to it.

The dawn hours.

The frigid river baths.

The stew's aroma lingering on her garments.

The unending clamor of patrons.

She had come to terms with her plight.

At minimum... that's what she convinced herself.

During that interval, she acquired fresh insights.

Minor details.

Such as the weight of trays after prolonged carrying.

The exhaustion of feigning smiles amid aching soles.

The ease of fading into obscurity amid a throng.

Yet two elements troubled her above all.

First—

Escape proved impossible.

Regardless of pretexts she devised, regardless of distances she attempted, she never ventured past the bustling market in the trade zone.

The instant she aimed farther—toward the elite quarter, toward the royal halls—obstacles invariably arose.

An abrupt task.

A pounding head.

A sentinel steering her aside.

The environment gently repelled her.

Second—

No matter her efforts to enhance herself...

She remained unchanged.

She endeavored to consume more when funds allowed.

She endeavored to correct her stance.

She endeavored to arrange her locks variably.

She even attempted brief workouts in the dim confines of her loft at night.

Alterations eluded her.

She stayed slender.

Speckled.

Unremarkable.

Each glance into the stream or the inn's glass brought that familiar twinge to her heart.

She never fully adjusted to the reflection.

But gradually...

She compelled herself to cease responding.

She embraced it.

Or so she assumed.

For weeks, she had puzzled over the secret to this test.

She recognized its non-random nature.

The dungeon avoided pointless setups.

It connected to this existence.

To this form.

To the presence of another "Snow" within this realm.

The royal.

The stunning one.

The iteration everyone revered.

Is the dungeon granting me the viewpoint of an ordinary maiden in the realm?

Is it revealing the reality of the realm's splendor from the underbelly?

Is this the sight common folk behold when gazing at the palace?

Perhaps... it's merely compelling me to embrace my current state?

Yet I'm confident I have.

She labored.

She persevered.

She halted her aversion to the mirror.

She refrained from tears.

She refrained from fury.

She existed routinely.

Or is it aiming to instill regret for my royal past?

To evoke envy toward myself?

To illuminate how inferiors perceive those deemed "flawless"?

The notions accumulated.

Hypotheses built and crumbled successively.

Whenever she neared a solution...

It evaded her.

Since an element felt absent.

Acceptance by itself appeared insufficient.

One facet eluded her still.

And without seizing it—

The test persisted.

"Ah, Snow, any intentions for this evening?"

Her musings shattered under a boisterous, upbeat call.

"Intentions?"

"Indeed! Tonight marks the Altier Festival, doesn't it? Hehe~ Rumors say sharing it with your true beloved ensures eternal affection~"

"Oh... really."

Snow blinked deliberately.

She had caught fragments about it from patrons lately. Ornaments already adorned the marketplace. Vibrant streamers spanned structures. Blossom sellers depleted stocks rapidly.

"Tsk, you're not thinking of lingering here, are you?"

Merda—the colleague Snow had bonded most closely in the recent month—drew nearer, softening her pitch.

"Believe me, Snow. You won't enjoy being here tonight. Usually, this spot's an adventurers' den packed with brawny fools, but on Altier Festival? It morphs into quite the spectacle. You'll wipe surfaces amid amorous glances all evening."

Snow offered a soft grin.

"It doesn't bother me."

"It should!" Merda murmured theatrically. "Come now, I could match you with somebody. Even with your ordinary looks, I'm certain interest would spark. No slight intended, naturally."

"Haha... I value the suggestion."

She spoke sincerely.

Her words carried no resentment.

"But I'll remain here."

Merda withdrew, folding her limbs.

"You're utterly incorrigible."

Snow merely grinned once more.

Merda heaved a deep breath.

"Very well, do as you wish. The rest of us girls are dodging shifts to ready for the festival. I hate abandoning you solo—particularly with the owner nearby—but I suspect the inn won't overflow regardless."

She halted, scrutinizing Snow's face.

"You truly lack someone you'd wish to encounter tonight?"

For a fleeting instant—

A vision surfaced in Snow's thoughts.

Golden locks.

Azure gaze.

And chiseled features... Riley.

Her grip tightened marginally on the rag she held.

"...No," she responded steadily.

Merda regarded her briefly longer, then lifted her shoulders.

"Okay, okay. Should you reconsider, seek us at the square. Lanterns ignite at dusk."

Prior to Merda dashing off with the group, she wheeled back to Snow.

"Oh! Perhaps the owner will assign you front desk duties tonight. Not as if we're a proper lodge to start with. Best wishes!"

"Yes..."

Snow nodded faintly.

She observed Merda vanish into the twilight masses, giggles echoing after.

The inn gradually hushed as the sun sank. The amber rays outside transitioned to gentle amber, then profound indigo.

Snow released a light sigh.

She couldn't regard this as a typical evening.

This remained a test.

If the essence centered on acceptance... she would welcome whatever arose.

Fully.

Or at least... that was her conviction.

As darkness descended, the inn didn't quiet as Merda foresaw.

It transformed.

The vibe warmed.

Softened.

Lamps flickered to life indoors, diffusing a muted radiance across the timber surfaces.

Pairs entered gradually in place of boisterous explorers.

The standard din yielded to subdued chuckles and murmured exchanges.

And as Merda anticipated—

Kal Karam stationed Snow upfront.

"For welcoming guests," he had grumbled. "If they're problematic, turn them back."

Thus, she positioned herself at the doorway.

Welcoming.

Grinning.

Embracing.

"You two are barred."

"Huh?"

"Kindly depart."

The phrases escaped her lips prior to full comprehension.

Two cloaked forms loomed ahead.

They had neared soundlessly.

One marginally loftier.

One marginally leaner.

"Uhm... we're ready to pay more—"

"As I stated, entry forbidden. Both of you, go..."

Her voice constricted.

"...Ah. Wait. No. I mean—the lady may depart. You, sir, may enter."

The duo stiffened.

Bewildered.

Gradually... the leaner one unveiled her hood.

White tresses.

Blue orbs.

Her visage.

The princess.

And at her side—

He unveiled his hood too.

Riley.

Snow's respiration hitched in her torso.

It wasn't a hazy apparition.

It wasn't remote.

They stood directly before her.

The embodiment of her