How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 696: Frozen Trials 8

Previously on How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game...

Snow reflected on her complex feelings toward Riley, accepting that she cannot fully monopolize him but cherishing her irreplaceable firsts and genuine bond forged through shared trials. In the trial's illusion, she faced a fake version of herself as an innkeeper, on the verge of artificial intimacy with a illusory Riley, and rejected it outright, refusing to let a scripted imitation undermine their true connection. From the Frozen Castle, the Frost Queen and Riley observed the scene, with the Queen intrigued by Snow's stubborn possessiveness and deciding to permit her passage through the trial.

In a serene woodland dusted with silvery frost, a little girl strolled joyfully down a slim trail.

"Hmm~ hm~ nng~"

She sang a gentle melody to herself, the notes faint and airy, nearly merging with the chill breeze rustling through the branches.

Early morning rays pierced the overhead limbs, casting golden flecks over the icy terrain.

With every footfall, she produced a soft crackle on the fragile frost sheet.

She gazed skyward with a radiant grin.

"The day’s weather is lovely, Mama! I bet we’ll collect plenty of spirit lotuses today!"

Her tone brimmed with thrill, innocent and optimistic.

Trailing her, the mother offered a tender smile and extended a hand to stroke the girl’s crown.

Her pale locks, shimmering in the sunlight, bobbed softly with her motions.

"Indeed... We should manage to pick up a few extra ones this round."

Her words flowed steadily. Soothing.

"Hehe, then you’ll heal quicker and feel better in no time, won’t you? I’m so excited~!"

The little one advanced with eagerness, clutching a modest woven basket in her grasp.

It appeared somewhat oversized for her frame, yet she bore it with pride, like a cherished treasure.

At her back, the mother’s grin persisted.

It remained firm.

Reassuring.

Yet merely skin-deep.

Cough...!

She swiftly averted her face, muffling her mouth with fabric as a quiet cough slipped out. It stayed subdued.

Not forceful.

However, it recurred frequently enough to signal an underlying issue.

She composed herself before her child could detect it.

A subtle iciness lingered far inside her torso.

Not from the woods’ chill.

Not the seasonal bite.

But a deeper frost.

One that wouldn’t thaw.

"Celestine," she murmured softly, her tone kind. "Proceed with more caution. Monsters might still lurk nearby."

The girl halted and pivoted back, unafraid.

Her gaze sparkled. Pure.

"No need to fret, Mama!" she declared boldly, inflating her chest a touch. "I’m in harmony with the ice and frost! Any beast that approaches will get defeated by me!"

She lifted a diminutive fist, as though victory was already hers.

The mother observed her intently for a moment.

Then she inclined her head softly.

It appeared her offspring had taken on traits from her that she hadn’t desired.

.....

"Hnn...?"

Snow gradually lifted her lids, a muted ache throbbing at her brow.

She emitted a faint moan while propping herself from the mattress below. The linens felt cozy. Plush. Excessively plush.

"What... occurred?"

Her speech emerged hushed, laden with drowsiness.

She fluttered her eyes several times, attempting to clarify her sight. The chamber surrounding her felt alien. Timbered panels. A compact pane to her side. Light drapes fluttering mildly from an imperceptible draft.

This wasn’t the alehouse.

And certainly not a glacial realm.

Her pulse evened as consciousness gradually resurfaced.

"Some other location..."

She peered at her form. Altered attire. Thinner material. More basic.

Her mind remained foggy, but she discerned the outlines vividly enough to grasp one fact—

She wasn’t in the spot where she’d dozed off.

"Have I entered the third trial already?" she whispered to herself.

She strained to remember her final recollection.

The lodge.

The celebratory evening.

The phony Riley.

The phony Snow.

The instance she held firm and barred their entry.

She’d braced for a month-long ordeal at minimum. Trials operated that way. Steadfastness. Perseverance. Observing deceptions attempt to erode her resolve.

Yet following that evening...

Once she rejected them and ascended to her modest quarters in the inn...

The instant she reclined—

Brilliant glow.

It engulfed her view entirely.

Identical to each trial she’d conquered before.

She breathed out deliberately.

Thus, it concluded regardless.

Her stare wandered the space once more.

This evidently wasn’t the inn chamber she’d occupied. Hers had been confined. Bare. Marginally grimy. This seemed... inhabited. Spotless. Oddly comforting.

She massaged her temple gently.

No matter the situation, she felt eased that the second trial had wrapped up.

Merely recalling it stirred a subtle pang in her core.

Observing an alternate self alongside Riley coexisting so effortlessly... chuckling, bantering, scheming an evening like it was routine—

It impacted her beyond anticipation.

She’d believed herself ready.

Believed herself detached.

But witnessing it unfold so fluidly, so at ease... it had chipped away at her.

Even aware it was fabricated, it couldn’t halt the annoyance.

Couldn’t quell the subtle envy.

She released a quiet breath and shifted her limbs to the bed’s edge.

Cool draft grazed her flesh.

"Third trial..." she whispered once more.

Her vision focused a bit.

Regardless of this trial’s nature—

She had to maintain sharp wits.

Initially, akin to prior exams, she required details.

Snow compelled herself to remain composed.

Freaking out proved useless.

She rose gradually from the mattress and surveyed the area thoroughly now.

It was tidy.

Pristine. Rays of sun seeped softly via a lofty pane.

The furnishings weren’t inexpensive—gleaming timber, etched patterns, plush coverings.

This wasn’t a commoner’s dwelling.

And as she descended from the bed, another truth emerged.

The surroundings appeared... vaster.

The ground seemed more distant than expected. The table by the partition loomed higher. The glass opposite felt strangely immense.

She creased her brow mildly and approached it.

Every stride felt buoyant. Diminished.

Upon arriving at the glass and peering upward—

She halted abruptly.

"A kid...?"

The image confronting her wasn’t her accustomed physique.

Pale strands cascaded smoothly beyond her collar, pristine and untainted like new snowfall.

Her gaze lacked the icy pallor from her godly phase, instead holding a milder, sharper hue—yet vivid, yet captivating.

Her traits were refined. Overly refined.

She appeared no more than eight or nine years old.

A stunning youngster.

Were it not for the juvenility of her visage, she’d match her prior look. The grace endured, merely... scaled down.

She donned a pale gown, unadorned yet evidently costly. The weave was superior. The seams precise. A subtle grace defined its drape.

Whomever this "youngster" represented, she wasn’t commonplace.

Snow examined her petite fingers.

Evidently, the trial centered on this youth.

Yet another existence? A fresh persona?

Did this mirror the second trial—some emblematic puzzle to unravel?

Or must she endure it fully?

She remained uncertain.

She parted her hands deliberately and attempted to summon mana.

If anything, she needed to assess her available strength—

"Celestine!"

The portal adjacent to her quarters flew ajar.

"Hm?"

Ere she could respond, a figure dashed inside and seized her tiny grasp securely.

"I warned you against channeling your mana! Recall yesterday’s mishap!"

Snow tilted her head up.

A mature lady positioned herself in front.

Their countenances resembled each other—the identical orbs, the matching nasal contour—but the lady possessed gentle chestnut tresses rather than pale.

Her demeanor overflowed with concern.

Genuine concern.

She promptly inspected Snow, sweeping her locks back, pressing her palm to her brow softly as though verifying no fever.

"You seem okay at present..." the lady whispered, exhaling in relief. "But kindly refrain from repeating that."

She drew Snow—Celestine—into a mild hug.

"I’m glad you’re roused, yet... forgive me, child. Your mother simply frets over you."

Mother.

The term landed oddly within Snow’s heart.

Cozy limbs encircled her diminutive frame.

Tender fingers caressing her strands.

A mild aroma of something nostalgic and reassuring.

It felt... comforting.

Snow tensed a fraction unintentionally.

She lacked knowledge on reacting.

In her personal youth, she’d never known such fondness.

A parent’s affection.

...

"My successor advances steadily through the third trial. Rest assured, esteemed visitor."

The Frost Queen’s tone resonated softly through the icy chamber.

Yet Riley appeared far from reassured.

Rather, he seemed more perplexed.

"You permitted her to complete the second trial just now?" he inquired bluntly.

"I’ve already affirmed as much," she answered, eyes averted from him.

"However, she didn’t provide the response you sought, did she?"

The Frost Queen at last directed her sight at him. No annoyance marked her face. Merely serenity.

"Correct," she conceded. "She did not."

"Then why—"

"This is my ordeal," she interrupted seamlessly. "I hold the right to adjust it at will."

She rose from her seat deliberately, wisps of frost following her steps as she advanced a short distance.

"Her reply deviated from my initial intent. Nevertheless..." she halted, gaze tightening faintly in reflection, "the sentiments she revealed held no shortage."

Riley held his tongue.

"A determination shone in her that I couldn’t overlook," the Frost Queen pressed on. "It never faltered. Not for an instant."

Her speech grew milder—not heated, but more profound.

"It struck me as peculiar. As she regarded that mirage... her eyes evoked one who’d cherished for centuries."

Riley’s forehead creased a tad.

"Or maybe,"

he added softly,

"one who’d borne witnessing affection flourish from afar. One who’d sampled envy, forfeiture, loyalty, resentment... and yet selected love."

The Frost Queen eyed him subtly.

"The feelings she invested in my challenge were authentic. Intense. Unrestrained."

She offered a minor inclination.

"That I can recognize."