How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 707: Inheritance

Throughout her existence—

Coldness served as her steadfast companion.

The savage gusts whipping through the northern expanses.

The relentless blizzards devouring vast terrains.

The peaks entombed beneath massive ice sheets.

The icy realms where survival itself barely clung on.

None of these ever troubled Elea.

For everyone else, the chill inspired dread.

It demanded endurance.

It gradually gnawed at flesh and spirit alike.

Yet for her—

It stood apart.

The cold remained silent.

It stayed truthful.

It never lied, never abandoned, never exacted tribute from her.

It merely... persisted.

And within that hush—

It dulled her senses.

Her anguish.

Her remorse.

Her yearnings.

All that weighed down the world around her.

The cold stripped it all away.

And for Elea...

That sufficed.

It alone enabled her to press onward in a realm that refused to pause.

A land torn by endless conflict.

Realms ascending, only to crumble.

Domains forged from greed, crumbling beneath their burdens.

Humankind—

Perpetually fractured.

Perpetually clashing.

Never genuinely cohesive.

No amount of years could alter it.

Change never arrived.

And thus—

Elea clung to a single conviction.

Humanity's doom loomed inevitable.

By their own doing...

Or through the fiends prowling their frontiers.

Unavoidable.

A gradual, assured demise.

…

Yet suddenly—

A wonder unfolded.

A youth emerged.

Blessed by divine will.

An entity unfit for such a shattered realm.

Still—

He manifested.

He delivered what hadn't graced the world in ages.

Hope.

True hope.

The sort unyielding in fragility.

The sort enduring beyond a single night.

The sort reigniting faith in hearts.

Humans once splintered apart...

Started converging.

Not through coercion.

Not through terror.

But from a desire to trail him.

His mere existence sufficed.

His grin—

Unpretentious.

Modest.

Yet potent enough to hush the terrors plaguing the land for years.

Interminable clashes began shifting tides.

Desolation yielded to a gentler glow.

To a radiant spark.

…

And without Elea noticing—

That very figure entered her realm.

Entered her days.

Entered her—

Frozen core.

Not with force.

Not with spectacle.

Simply... organically.

Like heat infiltrating numb fingers.

Like rays piercing iced earth.

…

However—

His affections lay claimed elsewhere.

By the Saintess.

Divinely selected to stand at his side.

Fated to journey beside him.

And those two—

They exceeded mere duty.

They cherished one another.

Deeply.

Joyfully.

…

Elea understood this.

Right from the start.

Still—

For the first time ever...

The chill that once soothed her—

Felt insufficient.

…

They claim suppressing emotions leads to shattering.

That inevitably, a fracture emerges.

But Elea endured.

Long ago, she embraced this route—opting to encase her heart in ice, entombing all beneath unyielding, serene frost. It wasn't imposed. No longer mere shielding.

It defined her essence.

The freeze responded as ever—pristine, total, exquisite in its calm. Devoid of doubt. Devoid of torment. Devoid of craving.

And yet...

That flawless chill she commanded—

It quivered.

Something subtle. Something tiny. Like a persistent itch beyond grasp. It slithered from her core's fringes, infiltrating fissures she deemed nonexistent.

Irritating.

Superfluous.

…Unknown.

So what if the hero eluded her grasp?

He never belonged to her anyway.

For her comrades—for those she vowed to safeguard—nothing else counted.

Nothing ought to have counted.

"...Yes... her name... it’s Celestine... hehe... please, Elea... my little Celes... take care of her..."

Minerva’s tone.

Frail. Diminishing.

Tender.

That moment... the saintess rested in her bed, vitality departed, her existence fading even as fresh life arrived.

And upon Minerva's passing—

Elea sensed it.

A ripple.

A blemish.

A subtle shift pierced her icy, stagnant heart.

Slightly.

…

"Mother...!"

"...Hng?"

Elea’s lids lifted gradually.

The initial sight was a visage mere inches away.

"Celestine...?"

"You’re finally awake... seriously..." Celestine exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping. "We were really getting worried, you know."

"Yeah, that’s right, aunty!" Anica’s voice rang out immediately, boisterous as always. "Yesterday, after dinner, you suddenly collapsed on the way to your room!"

"Ooh... really now?"

Elea blinked several times, her tone serene, somewhat detached.

Celestine’s face grew stern.

"You’re taking this too lightly again..." she murmured, lips pursing slightly. "This is why I told you to stop doing everything on your own. Shopping, housework... you don’t have to do all of it yourself."

Elea hesitated.

…Ah.

Rarely did she witness Celestine this way.

Irked.

Anxious.

Expressing it so.

"Aunty, are you alright now?" Anica edged nearer, gaze brimming with worry. "Maybe you should take more medicine. We took— I mean, kindly asked the village doctor to come yesterday. And we even kidnap— I mean, gently asked a traveling priest to check on you too..."

She cleared her throat, adjusting her phrasing.

"...They both said you’ve been lacking energy or something..."

Elea couldn’t suppress it.

A faint grin emerged.

"I see..." she replied gently. "Thank you for worrying about me."

Her look rested on them briefly longer.

"...But I’m fine."

"Liar...."

Celestine stated flatly.

"You always say that... and yet you’re always hiding something."

Celestine’s words held firm.

Steady. Excessively so.

"Tell me, mother... you’re sick, aren’t you?"

The statement landed crisp. Straightforward.

Inevitable.

Elea’s digits stirred faintly.

"...Fufu, no, I’m not, dear—"

"You said that last month too!"

Celestine interrupted.

Her pitch sharpened, cutting the air.

"...."

"...."

Quiet descended.

It hung thick and uneasy.

Even Anica—typically outspoken, giggling at all—fell mute. She fidgeted, eyes darting between them, uncertain.

Celestine held her stare.

Her gaze fixed on Elea.

Tears glistened now.

Not spilling.

Merely present.

"Tell me, mother..." her tone gentled, yet stung deeper. "What’s really wrong?"

"I told you... I’m fine."

"No, you’re not."

No waver now.

No uncertainty.

Celestine advanced a step.

"You know... I’ve always done everything you asked of me," she continued, voice straining. "I worked hard. I listened. I did my best in everything."

Her fists balled lightly.

"I’ve been a good girl. The perfect daughter."

A breath.

"And I never asked you for anything."

Elea’s chest constricted.

"...Celestine—"

"Not even the things I chose to ignore until now."

That—

Caused Elea to quiver.

Faintly.

"...So at least..." Celestine’s voice fractured, clinging by threads. "At least tell me what’s wrong this time."

In usual times... she’d have relented.

Not Elea’s initial collapse.

Not the first oddity.

But yesterday—

"...It seems your mother was struck by a curse."

"Curse?"

Celestine’s prior words resounded in memory.

"Yes... quite a powerful one at that." The priest scowled, face clouded. "I’m surprised she survived this long. It seems her mana is... unusually dense. It’s been holding the curse back."

Holding it back.

Not purging it.

"...But it won’t last," he had added softly. "It’s only a matter of time before the curse fully takes over."

"No... then do something!" Celestine had lunged ahead impulsively. "You’re a priest, right? You can fix this!"

The priest faltered.

That pause revealed all.

"I’m sorry... there are limits to what I can do," he conceded. "To cleanse a curse of this level... we would need someone of much higher authority."

"...Like who?"

"...The Pope. Or a Saintess."

A moment.

"...Both positions are currently vacant."

Hush.

"I am truly sorry."

…

Then realization struck.

Its gravity.

And now—

Before Elea—

Celestine’s hands shook faintly.

"...So tell me," she urged, tone hushed, pleading. "Why are you still saying you’re fine?"

Under that piercing look, Elea quivered involuntarily.

Her breathing hitched subtly.

Enough to expose her.

Crack...!

Buried deep in her iced heart—

Something delicate shattered.

Quietly.

Vaguely.

Yet palpable.

A slender split racing across what she’d maintained immobile forever.

…Irritating.

Superfluous.

Swiftly, she interred it once more.

Suppressed it.

Locked it under frost layers, as if absent.

"Fufu... you’ve always been a smart, perceptive, beautiful girl..."

"This isn’t something to laugh about!"

"I know..."

Elea’s words gentled.

And once, she met the gaze squarely.

Viewed Celestine truly.

Not as a youth.

But as present reality.

Years had slipped by soundlessly.

Too soundlessly.

Somewhere, the tiny one she cradled transformed wholly.

Polished.

Resilient.

Compassionate.

…Recognizable.

Elea’s grip firmed.

That compassion.

That grace.

That glow in her stare.

Even her gifts... her wit...

She mirrored them increasingly.

Her true mother.

Her true father.

A progeny destined for glory.

Far exceeding this modest, hushed existence.

…Elea had stifled it.

All.

From dread.

Had Celestine’s prowess not matched that entity—

That force once seeking annihilation—

Perhaps...

…perhaps alternate paths.

Elea shook her head subtly.

No.

Within—

Celestine remained Celestine.

Regardless of dormant powers.

Regardless of entwined maledictions.

She was her child.

Eternal.

…How much did she grasp?

Elea pondered.

But—

The moment arrived.

At minimum... a portion.

"Celestine..." her murmur hushed further. "Please forgive me this time, alright?"

Celestine stayed silent.

Observing.

"I know... keeping secrets between us isn’t right," Elea pressed on, smile faint. "But... trust me. It’s something important."

A lull.

"...Is it dangerous?"

Instant. Piercing.

"..."

"..."

Elea delayed response.

Briefly—

Silence weighed anew.

"No..." she finally uttered. "Not at all."

Celestine’s eyes remained hard.

"...You’re lying."

Elea sighed softly.

"...Maybe," she owned. "But not about everything."

Another lull.

"I know you have questions," she added. "A lot of them."

Her gaze dipped.

"...Just... give me a little more time. That’s all I’m asking."

Celestine remained rooted.

Reflecting.

Assessing.

"...Alright."

Soft.

Grudging.

Yet granted.

Temporarily.

A tacit accord formed.

Unvoiced.

And amid it—

Anica, lingering uncomfortably between them, blinked puzzled.

"...So uh..." she eyed each. "...are we fighting or not?"

"Fufu... not at all, my dear Anica..."

Elea’s tone warmed as she extended arms, drawing Anica into a soft embrace. Her palm grazed the girl’s crown, stroking idly.

"Celestine and I just had a small misunderstanding," she assured evenly. "I’ll clear everything up soon, so there’s no need to worry."

Her sight turned to Celestine.

"...Think of it as a different kind of mother and daughter bonding... isn’t that right, dear?"

"...Yes."

Celestine replied, after a hitch.

Tiny.

Telling.

"Now both of you are lying to me!"

Anica burst out, wriggling mildly in Elea’s hold—though half-heartedly. She nestled closer really.

Elea chuckled softly.

"Speaking of lying... aren’t the two of you the most guilty?" she teased mildly. "Especially you, my dear daughter..."

That—

Startled them both.

Celestine blinked.

Anica cocked her head.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you saying, aunty?"

"Fufu..." Elea’s grin held. "You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t notice, did you?"

A brief halt.

Then—

"...The two of you practicing dangerous [High Grade Magic] deep inside the forest."

Hush.

Celestine tensed.

Anica stiffened.

"M-Mother... you knew?"

"Yes," Elea confirmed plainly. "I’m the one who’s been teaching you all this time, remember?"

Her look honed subtly.

"I’m both your mother... and your teacher. No one understands your aptitude better than I do."

Celestine’s mouth opened faintly.

"Then why didn’t you—"

"Say anything?" Elea supplied. "Because I was waiting."

A brief halt.

"For you to tell me yourselves."

"T-That’s..." Celestine averted eyes, tone constricting. "...unfair."

"That’s right, aunty!" Anica chimed in swiftly, easing back to face her. "If you already knew, then why did you keep holding Celestine back with those boring books?!"

Elea held off replying.

Her strokes on Anica’s hair slowed.

"...I had my reasons."

Solemn.

Straightforward.

Then a gentle release of breath.

"...But I suppose... it’s partly my fault too."

Uncommon.

Exceedingly so.

Elea conceding thus.

Both gazed anew.

And then—

A subtle smile graced her once more.

"...So," she offered, voice brightening faintly, "how about I teach you properly from now on?"

As her frost-sealed destiny stayed unyielding—

This offspring’s path rejected such burial in chill.

Celestine needed no guarding from it.

…She destined to rise above.

To master it.

Elea averted her eyes mildly.

Time dwindled.

She knew best.

Yet... she’d expended all efforts. Every petty act to divert her child from awaiting doom. To guard against a fate of devastation and isolation.

But that era ended.

It must.

"...It’s time," she breathed lowly.

Crackle...!

Within her heart’s glacial void—

Something constructed.

No mere ice.

No plain rime.

A fortress.

A vast, mute citadel of utter freeze, barriers stacked with restraint, base etched from Elea’s entombed essence.

And central—

A shadowy, spherical core throbbed dimly.

Weighty.

Volatile.

Shackled.

Myriad icy fetters encircled it, anchoring firm as ethereal strands extended...

Probing.

Linking.

Straight to Celestine.

It shuddered.

Not defying—

But acknowledging.

Elea shut her eyes momentarily.

Completion meant...

Her ultimate bequest—

Prepared.

Solely hers to bestow.

Solely Celestine’s to claim.

"...Just a little longer," she murmured.

Meanwhile—

She’d remain near.

Even should—

Even should Celestine grow to resent her.

A soft smile curved her lips.

"...I don’t mind."

For ultimately—

She merely mothered.

One loving her progeny excessively.

…

"My... you came to see me first this time?"

The Frost Queen lounged on her throne, one leg draped across the