How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 702: Giant Chief.

It was agony.

Abyssal darkness.

A pervasive stench.

And a biting chill.

The young dragon, currently trapped within the fragile shell of a small girl, had already braced herself for the absolute worst.

Or perhaps... the end of everything.

Her petite frame shivered uncontrollably as the hooded figures circled her, their callous hands and cruel, taunting laughter filling her with dread.

The way they reached toward her possessed a clear, malicious intent—an urge she didn’t fully comprehend, yet one her instincts rebelled against with terror.

Her mother had issued the warning quite often.

Humans are peril.

Keep your distance.

Trust no one.

Do not emerge until your cultivation is sufficient to safeguard your own life.

She had adhered to those words.

Yet, she had still ventured out, abandoning the mountain’s shelter.

She had attempted to be cautious... but clearly, not cautious enough.

Perhaps she had permitted her vigilance to wane.

Perhaps her curiosity regarding the realm outside her nest had been too overwhelming.

Regardless—

This was the grim outcome.

Thus, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Waiting.

Waiting for the inevitable despair to follow.

However—

Something shifted.

The gusts of wind altered their course.

The freezing aura permeating the woods grew substantially denser.

Initially, she assumed it was merely her flickering consciousness.

But no...

The biting cold was not receding.

It was intensifying.

As she peeled her eyes open, the landscape before her had undergone a total transformation.

The forest had morphed into a treacherous, frozen battlefield.

Towering, jagged sculptures of ice erupted from the earth in every conceivable direction. Frost now encased the timber, the snow, and the very atmosphere.

And scattered across the clearing—

Were dozens of ice spears.

Each jagged implement had skewered one of the hooded men.

Their forms stood perfectly suspended in the frozen air or pinned against the soil, the spearheads blossoming like cruel, crystalline flowers.

Not a single one had managed to flee.

Not a single one had survived the onslaught.

An absolute silence claimed the woods.

The young girl shakily lifted herself from the ice-covered ground.

The demonic energy that had been corroding her veins was dissipating.

The curse restricting her mana had shattered the instant its conjurer perished.

The searing agony flowing through her meridians finally began to subside.

Her respiration returned to a steady rhythm.

Bewildered, she scanned the perimeter, desperate to grasp the mystery of her salvation.

Then—

She caught sight of her.

Stationed a short distance away.

The architect of this massacre.

"...You... are..."

The dragon girl’s utterance arrived as a strained, barely audible whisper.

The individual standing nearby appeared human.

Utterly human.

With ivory hair.

A serene expression.

Youthful—not appearing any older than herself.

And yet...

The aura radiating from her presence was fundamentally different.

The freezing atmosphere surrounding her was unnatural.

It surpassed simple magic.

It felt primordial.

As though the frost itself acknowledged her as its sovereign.

As though winter existed purely because she willed it into being.

The young dragon struggled to reconcile what she witnessed.

A mere human should never harbor such power.

And yet—

Standing before her liberator...

She was struck by the same visceral, instinctive pressure dragons felt when standing before entities of far greater antiquity and stature.

The chill swirling around her felt inevitable.

It was far beyond the simple winter frost.

It carried a deeper, more profound weight.

Authority.

Dominion.

It was as if the ice obeyed her silent directive without hesitation.

The scene possessed a beauty that made averting one’s eyes impossible.

But simultaneously—

It was lethal.

The young woman slowly rotated her head to face the wounded dragon child.

The second their gazes locked—

The dragon girl was rooted to the spot.

Celestine’s eyes were a translucent, pale bluish-white, reminiscent of frozen arctic lakes.

Within those depths, faint patterns blossomed in the light.

Snowflakes.

Tiny, geometric crystalline reflections that swirled with every flicker of her sight.

The dragon girl’s consciousness went blank.

A single concept dominated her mind.

Absolute.

That was how the entity before her felt.

Utterly absolute.

Celestine observed the bewilderment written across the child’s face.

Alongside the lingering terror.

She took a measured step forward.

The dragon girl stood motionless.

She remained fixed, staring.

’...Did I go overboard?’

Celestine pondered.

Surveying the surrounding carnage, the entire sector was blanketed in ice and slaughtered remains.

It was hardly an inviting sight.

Perhaps she had frightened the child with the sheer brutality of how she settled the matter.

However, considering that dragons typically displayed indifference toward other creatures—particularly humans—Snow doubted that was the primary factor.

She scrutinized the child’s physique.

A small frame.

Ivory horns.

Injuries scattered across her skin.

’She appears roughly three... perhaps five years my junior.’

Of course, that estimate was purely based on external appearance.

Being a polymorphed dragon, her true age could easily dwarf Celestine’s current thirteen years.

Regardless.

This marked the first genuine anomaly since she stepped into this trial.

For three years, everything had unfolded in a repetitive, quiet cycle.

But this—

This felt like a pivotal change.

And, if she were being honest...

She felt a flicker of genuine enthusiasm.

Celestine softened her features.

A warm, inviting smile manifested on her lips—the exact expression she had mastered during her tenure as Princess Snow.

A look designed to soothe the soul.

To provide safety.

"My name is Celestine Novaline," she murmured softly. "I am fortunate to have arrived before those ruffians could inflict true harm upon you."

Without pause, she stepped into the gap and gently grasped the dragon girl’s hand.

Her skin felt warm despite the frigid mana radiating from her person.

"How are you faring now?"

She examined the child’s wounds with focus.

"...No. It seems your injuries persist."

The dragon girl’s lips parted slightly.

"...I—"

But Celestine intervened before she could articulate her response.

"Since the hour grows late, shall we depart before we resort to formal introductions?" she proposed with a light tone.

A soft, melodic chuckle escaped her.

"Hehe... my mother is quite the accomplished healer herself."

She offered a gentle pull on the girl’s hand.

"Let us move."

Oddly enough...

The young dragon found herself incapable of refusing.

She responded with a simple nod.

Once.

And then again.

....

Abandoned by the Frost Dragon, Anica, after she uttered such an absurd demand—no, perhaps it was closer to a plea—for him to simply overlook her existence...

Riley could not suppress a heavy sigh.

Even now, he could detect Anica trailing behind him in utter silence and concealment as he traversed the Ice Castle.

Admittedly, being observed... or persistently stalked... was not an unfamiliar sensation for Riley; he had acclimated to such things long ago.

Yet, all the same—

’Why does she persist in rotating her vantage points...?’

Occasionally she vanished behind him.

Sometimes she drifted to his flank.

And at other times—

Hovered overhead.

Because she evidently employed a high-tier stealth art, she remained invisible to Riley’s physical senses.

But invisibility did not equate to non-existence.

Her presence, though faint, persisted.

An almost imperceptible ripple in the atmosphere.

A minute fluctuation in her mana signature.

It was sufficient for him to pinpoint her coordinates throughout.

Naturally, he found himself curious as to why Anica had suddenly issued such a bizarre request.

But every instance he attempted to solicit an answer, or even force a coherent explanation from her—

Anica would instantly revert to pleading with him to drop the inquiry.

To not press further.

Ultimately...

Such was the stalemate.

Riley simply resolved to endure it.

The Ice Castle was immense in every sense.

Its architecture was layered with hundreds—no, surely thousands—of interwoven celestial enchantments.

The magical arrays embedded into the infrastructure expanded the interior volume well beyond what its external frame suggested.

But that was merely the surface.

Within the ramparts lay several expansive dimensions.

Specifically, four massive manors that connected directly to the palace structure.

Each belonged to one of the Frost Queen’s generals.

Up to this moment, Riley had explored nearly every public sector within the fortification.

The training arenas.

The archives.

The gardens.

The corridors.

Even the majority of the living quarters scattered throughout.

By now, there were virtually no unexplored zones remaining for him.

Except for those four.

The private domains reserved for the generals.

Given that these areas were likely highly sensitive to the inhabitants, Riley had refrained from entering any of them.

Even when his path crossed with portals clearly leading toward those villas, he simply ignored them and pressed onward.

It was not a lack of interest.

He simply saw no merit in encroaching upon spaces clearly intended for privacy.

But currently...

The circumstances had shifted.

The Frost Queen herself had granted him full authority to roam the castle as he deemed fit.

If he desired, he could infiltrate those restricted domains utilizing her mandate without opposition.

Yet, Riley remained conflicted.

He strolled leisurely through the quiet hallway, lost in contemplation over whether the effort was warranted.

Then—

Thud...!

A heavy, booming sound echoed in his wake.

Step...

Step...

Each ponderous stride caused the icy flooring to tremble.

Riley came to a halt and pivoted.

Confronting him was a colossal figure.

A Frost Giant.

The titan descended to one knee, lowering his massive cranium in a display of deference.

"I offer greetings to my queen’s distinguished guest."

His tone was deep and gravelly, reminiscent of boulders scraping against one another.

"I am Otar, son of Rato... the second hand to our great chieftain. I approach the human before me with due honor."

Riley lifted a brow in mild intrigue.

Thus, the right-hand man to the chieftain had arrived in person.

That was unexpected.

Riley crossed his arms with nonchalance and peered up at the behemoth.

"So," he began composedly, "to what honor do I owe your personal arrival?"

The frost giant remained kneeling.

"The chieftain humbly requests a moment of your time," Otar stated. "He has extended a personal invitation for you to visit our dwelling."

"Our great chieftain would greatly value the esteemed guest’s presence."

"...Is that so."

Riley whispered to himself.

For some inexplicable reason...

This felt like a repeat.

First the Frost Queen.

And now the Frost Giant chieftain.

Both extending invitations personally.

A sense of intense déjà vu settled in his mind.

And frankly...

He already suspected he would garner nothing of consequence from this encounter either.

Riley released a small sigh and shook his head, pushing the irritation aside.

Then he looked back at the giant.

"Fine."

His concurrence came effortlessly.

"I will go and see your chief."