How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 681: Frozen North Interlude

“The western and eastern edges are being blockaded as you ordered. Supplies from Count Dila and Viscount Belom are arriving without issue, escorted by our Heavenly Knights. The central ridge is under constant surveillance. As of this moment, everything is proceeding within expected parameters, Your Grace.”

In the brightly lit office, the young knight Lisel stood tall and composed.

One hand rested behind his back, the other holding a neatly arranged report, its edges perfectly aligned—a reflection of the discipline drilled into him since the day he had sworn his oath.

“And as instructed,” Lisel continued, “we requested Count Roverick’s cooperation regarding the central field waves. However, with his forces steadily dwindling, he remains resistant to committing additional troops. Since he is expected to return from the academy soon, it may be best to renew the request—if only as a formality.”

“I see…”

Grand Duke Luther Heavens replied in an even, neutral tone.

He did not turn to face Lisel.

Instead, he stood before the towering windows of his office, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at the frozen expanse beyond the city walls.

Pale light spilled across the polished floor, framing his tall figure like a statue carved from steel.

“Given that the monster waves are already beginning to subside in response to our presence,” Lisel added, “I believe our initial plans may commence shortly, Your Grace.”

“Then proceed as you see fit,” Luther said after a brief pause. “But exercise caution. If possible… capture one of their members alive.”

Lisel’s posture stiffened ever so slightly.

“Understood, Your Grace.”

“And one more thing.”

Luther’s voice stopped him just as he was about to turn.

“Ignore the central plains and the mountains. No monster waves will appear there.”

Lisel hesitated for a fraction of a second. Curiosity flickered across his expression—just briefly—but it vanished as quickly as it came. Trust outweighed questions.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

With a respectful bow, Lisel turned and exited the office, the heavy doors closing softly behind him.

Left alone, the Grand Duke remained where he was.

His crimson eyes pierced through the glass, past the city, past the frozen fields, and toward the distant horizon—toward something only he seemed aware of.

….

[Mid-Tier Ice Magic]

[Frost Explosion]

Snow raised her white wand, its surface faintly shimmering as mana surged through it.

Pure, immaculate frost gathered at the tip—white mana condensing, compressing, until it crystallized into a gleaming orb.

The temperature around her dropped sharply, the air itself screaming as it froze.

The orb shot forward like a falling star.

BOOOOM—!!!

It detonated in a storm of blinding white.

Frosted shockwaves rippled outward, scattering shards of ice and frozen mist in every direction.

The ground cracked, instantly sealed over by layers of crystal frost.

“Guaghhh—!”

“Raghhhck—!!!”

The monsters caught in the blast—creatures born of ice and frost themselves—had no chance to resist. Snow’s magic was not cold in the ordinary sense.

It was absolute.

Even the smallest fragments of her spell clung to them, burrowing deep, crystallizing their cores from the inside out.

Limbs froze mid-movement. Screams died in their throats as their bodies turned into pale statues of ice.

Snow watched with a neutral, almost distant gaze.

Moments later, sunlight touched the frozen forms.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs.

Then—softly, quietly—they shattered.

The monsters dissolved into drifting white mist, scattering into the frozen wind as though they had never existed.

“Your magic has reached a higher level,” Riley remarked calmly.

As he spoke, the monster he had been facing collapsed behind him—its head cleanly separated from its body.

In Riley’s case, the creatures hadn’t even realized they were dead.

One instant they were alive; the next, their necks were gone, severed with impossible precision.

“Yes…”

Snow replied softly.

She lowered her wand and glanced at it, feeling the flow of mana within herself.

The sensation was clearer now—denser, purer, more responsive.

She had already noticed the change before, confirmed it with Seo, but experiencing it firsthand made it undeniable.

Her affinity had deepened.

Her mana quality had risen.

And she knew why—or at least, part of it.

That dream.

The battle with the demon.

That other version of herself, standing amid frost and ruin, wielding power that felt both familiar and terrifying.

Snow tightened her grip on the wand.

She didn’t have answers yet. Only fragments. Only echoes.

And while the strength now at her disposal was real, tangible… the uncertainty tied to it made her chest feel strangely heavy.

Of course, gaining unexpected levels at her very core was a tremendous benefit.

Any mage would call it a blessing.

Yet when power arrived without effort, without explanation, suspicion naturally followed.

It was a welcome gain—undeniably so—but also an unsettling one.

Snow could feel it clearly now: the change wasn’t superficial.

It wasn’t merely a refinement of technique or a gradual growth born from training.

Something deeper had shifted, as though a hidden layer of herself had awakened.

And the only clues she possessed were the fragmented memories from that dream.

The frozen castle.

Its towering spires etched into her mind with impossible clarity, not as an image she had seen, but as something remembered.

As though it had always been there, sleeping within her very soul.

At times, she could almost feel it breathing.

A faint pull tugged at her chest whenever she focused on the north—no, not just the north, but something more precise.

The dungeon.

The place they were heading toward even now.

Whatever this power was, whatever that dream truly represented, all of it was calling her there.

That realization alone unsettled her more than the power itself.

When Riley had first suggested that she go to the northern dungeon, suspicion had immediately stirred within her.

If he hadn’t brought it up, she was certain she would have asked him herself—or perhaps gone alone without a word.

The coincidence was too sharp.

She had confronted him directly, asking if he knew anything about her current state.

His answer had been frustratingly honest.

He didn’t know.

And yet… it felt like he did know something.

Not the cause, perhaps, but the direction.

With Riley, that line was always blurred.

She knew him well enough to realize that if she truly pressed him—cornered him, demanded answers—he would eventually speak.

She could force the truth out of him if she wished.

But strangely…

She hadn’t.

Somewhere deep within her, a quiet voice whispered against her thoughts.

This is something you must face yourself.

Not out of pride.

Not out of fear.

But because whatever awaited her in the frozen depths of the north was tied to her alone.

As they continued their journey, Riley watched Snow walking a few steps ahead of him.

Her pace was steady, unhurried, yet every movement carried a sharp awareness—as if she were both lost in thought and ready to react at any moment.

It wasn’t the absent-minded focus of a scholar, nor the loose vigilance of a seasoned adventurer.

It was the composure of someone standing on the edge of something irreversible.

Riley had already expected her capabilities to rise beyond his original estimations.

After all, he was painfully aware that Evelyn had been pulling strings behind his back—or rather, arranging the world around him without his consent.

Ensuring that every ally, every key figure tied to his future, would be strong enough to endure what was coming.

Snow was no exception.

Yet even knowing that, Riley couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

How much had Evelyn interfered?

And more importantly… how?

Since she carried most of his unwanted memories, the fragments of worlds that had already collapsed, the possibility was obvious.

Snow inheriting power from another version of herself—from an alternate, now-broken timeline—was not only plausible, it was disturbingly likely.

A version of Snow who had already walked this path.

A version who may have failed… or survived long enough to leave something behind.

Is this similar to when I took my own trial…?

The thought lingered.

But the more he observed her, the more he noticed the difference.

Snow’s growth was far more direct than his had been.

Where his trial had been layered in deception, restraint, and gradual awakening, hers felt abrupt—almost forcefully aligned.

As if the world itself had decided to stop waiting for her.

That alone made Riley cautious.

Still… this was, undeniably, a favorable development.

In more ways than one.

A stronger Snow meant better odds.

Better odds meant fewer variables spiraling out of control.

And yet, despite every logical justification, a part of him remained uneasy about letting her face the trial ahead on her own.

He trusted her strength.

But trust didn’t erase concern.

If the time came—if things went wrong—he would step in without hesitation.

Quietly.

Decisively.

No matter what rules were broken in the process.

For now, however, he followed her lead.

Together they cut down the monsters that crossed their path, moving ever deeper into the frozen land.

Each battle was brief, efficient, almost mechanical.

And with every step forward, the pressure in the air thickened.

It wouldn’t take long now.

The dungeon awaited.

…

Meanwhile, back at the academy—

Riley’s room was unusually quiet.

Rose stared at the sheet of paper in her hand for a long moment before slowly crumpling it into a tight ball.

“Ah—what are you doing?!”

Alice yelped beside her, half leaping from her chair in disbelief.

“I don’t need this,” Rose replied flatly, her tone calm to the point of indifference.

“But—it’s your first interview, you know!”

Alice protested, snatching another sheet from the desk and waving it dramatically.

“You need to practice! Even if you’re confident, nerves might still get to you—no, wait… maybe not, considering it’s you, Rose—but still!”

She took a breath before continuing rapidly.

“Riley specifically asked me to teach you guys basic PR before the interview. This isn’t just some small thing—it’s going to be broadcast across the entire academy!”

“PR?” Rose asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Public relations,”

Alice said proudly.

“Or… well, something like that. Basically, pleasing the crowd, controlling the narrative, knowing what to say and what not to say.” She laughed lightly. “Snow told me to be more mindful about it too.”

“Hm…” Rose murmured. “I’m already aware of what I should share—and what I shouldn’t.”

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the window.

Unspoken thoughts lingered behind her composed expression.

After all, she already had an announcement prepared.

One that wasn’t meant for the academy alone.

A revelation so volatile it would ripple far beyond these walls—into noble circles, political factions, and places that thrived on scandal.

But that was something she kept to herself.

On the bed nearby, Seo lay reclined, a book resting open in her hands.

She hadn’t said a word, but her eyes flicked up briefly from the pages, her attention subtly sharpening.

Then—

Creak.

The door opened urgently.

Yui, Riley’s personal dorm maid, stepped inside.

Her posture was composed as always, yet her expression betrayed clear unease.

“Young Lady Rose…”

Rose immediately turned. “What is it, Yui?”

“There is an urgent matter that requires your attention.”

Yui clasped her hands together, her voice low but steady.

“Your household butler, Roberto, is requesting to speak with you at once.”

A pause.

“…It appears there has been an incident involving your father.”

Silence filled the room.

“…His Grace, Duke Raymond.”

At those words, Rose’s eyes sharpened instantly.

The casual calm vanished—replaced by cold focus.

“What happened?”