Novel Full Chapter 710: Inheritance 3.5
Chapter 710: Inheritance 3.5
As morning came—
Celestine slowly opened her eyes.
“Yawn…”
A quiet, almost lazy sound slipped from her lips as she turned her head slightly toward the window.
Soft light poured in.
Warm.
Gentle.
For a moment—
She just lay there, watching it.
A faint, satisfied smile forming on her face.
Another day.
Another step in the trial.
…Even if she still didn’t understand it.
Years had passed.
Again.
And still—
No answer.
No clear path.
The “key” to finishing this trial felt distant. Vague. Like something just out of reach no matter how much she searched for it.
“…Impossible…”
She whispered under her breath.
Or maybe—
She just hadn’t found the right way yet.
Slowly, she pushed herself up.
Her movements were natural, practiced. Routine.
Wash.
Dress.
Fix her hair.
Everything done without much thought.
Until—
She stood in front of the mirror.
“….”
For a moment, she just stared.
That face—
She was used to it by now.
Too used to it.
Beautiful.
Refined.
Perfect in a way that didn’t feel real sometimes.
And yet—
As the years passed, something changed.
It wasn’t just beauty anymore.
There was maturity now.
Depth.
Something quieter behind her eyes.
“…Snow Luvenitia White Germonia Leven…”
She said the name slowly.
Carefully.
Like she was testing how it felt on her tongue.
Her real name.
…Or at least—
That’s what she kept telling herself.
“….”
Her reflection didn’t answer.
“…Riley…”
The name slipped out next.
Without thinking.
Without meaning to.
She blinked.
“…Why do I keep saying that…?”
Her voice was soft.
Distant.
Still half-asleep.
The name felt familiar.
Important.
Like something she shouldn’t forget.
And yet—
She couldn’t grasp it.
Not fully.
Her memories…
The ones she once called her origin—
They were fading.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Like a single snowflake drifting in the middle of a storm.
Blending in.
Disappearing.
Becoming something else.
Becoming—
Celestine.
“….”
A part of her still knew.
Still held on.
Still whispered that something wasn’t right.
That this wasn’t everything.
But that part—Was getting smaller.
As more time passed—
The choices she had left to stop it…
Were disappearing.
And deep down—
She knew.
This wasn’t something that would simply stop on its own.
……
Pushing the thought aside—
Celestine let out a small breath.
“…Later.”
There wasn’t time to dwell on it.
Or maybe—
She just didn’t want to.
Quickly, she got dressed and stepped out, heading toward the backyard like she always did.
The cold air greeted her the moment she stepped outside—
Sharp.
Familiar.
Comforting, in a way.
“Oh, Celestine, morning~!”
“Good morning, Anica.”
She met her halfway.
Anica stood there, arms full of things she was clearly struggling to balance, yet still smiling like it was nothing.
The once tiny hatchling had grown.
Not much in size—her draconic nature made sure of that—but there was a difference now.
Subtle.
In the way she stood.
In the way she spoke.
A kind of quiet maturity had settled into her, even if her energy stayed the same.
“Aunty already left for the market,” Anica said, shifting what she was holding. “Went early again, as usual~”
“I see…”
Celestine’s eyes dropped slightly to her arms.
“What are you carrying?”
“Oh, this?” Anica lifted it a bit. “Aunty told me to separate the leaves from the stems. And cut the meat she prepared earlier too.”
She grinned.
“Want to help?”
“I would,” Celestine replied, shaking her head lightly, “but it’s my turn to tend the garden today.”
“Okay~” Anica nodded easily. “Make sure you water my tomatoes properly!”
“…Drizzle,” Celestine corrected softly.
“Yeah, that—whatever. Just don’t mess it up!”
“I won’t.”
A small smile slipped onto her face.
Then she moved past her.
Toward the back.
And as always—
The moment she stepped into the garden—
She paused.
“….”
It was still beautiful.
A single patch of green in a world of endless white.
Where frost never touched.
Where snow never settled.
The cold—
Simply stopped.
As if something here rejected it.
Plants thrived quietly, leaves swaying gently in a place where they shouldn’t even exist.
And compared to before—
It had grown.
Wider.
Fuller.
More alive.
All because of them.
Because of her—
And her mother.
Their magic intertwined, holding this place together.
Carving out a small piece of warmth—
In a land that knew nothing but cold.
“….”
Celestine stepped forward slowly.
Reaching out—
Her fingers brushed lightly against a leaf.
Soft.
Alive.
“…It’s gotten bigger again…”
She murmured to herself.
A small, quiet sense of pride settling in her chest.
Even in a place like this—
They had made something grow.
In a way—
This small patch of green was the only thing keeping her together.
The only proof that something could change.
That something could move forward.
Years had passed.
The days repeated.
The same routine. The same boundaries. The same quiet life that never seemed to lead anywhere.
And yet—
This garden grew.
Little by little.
Leaf by leaf.
It was small.
Insignificant, even.
But to Celestine—
To the part of her that was still Snow—
It meant everything.
“….”
Her hand moved gently, tilting the watering can as droplets fell over the plants.
She had done this countless times by now.
“…How long…”
The words slipped out before she even noticed.
“…How long do I have to stay here…?”
Her voice was quiet.
Almost lost in the still air.
She was still trapped.
Inside the same limits.
The house.
The forest nearby.
The village.
That was it.
No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t go beyond it.
Couldn’t explore further.
Couldn’t search for anything new.
Every path—
Led back.
Every attempt—
Ended the same.
“….”
She lowered the watering can slightly.
Thinking.
Everything she could try—
She already had.
Every logical approach.
Every reckless one.
Every careful step.
Every desperate move.
All of it.
“…Then…”
Her fingers tightened slightly.
“Is that really… my only option left…?”
The thought came back again.
It always did.
That one path.
The one she kept pushing away.
A part of her—
Was urging her toward it.
Telling her it might be the key.
That it might be the answer.
But another part—
Refused.
Strongly.
Because this wasn’t just about her.
If she chose that path—
It wouldn’t just affect her.
It would affect them.
Her mother.
Anica.
Everyone here.
And even then—
There was no guarantee.
Dying here didn’t mean clearing the trial.
It could mean failure.
And failure—
Wasn’t just a reset.
It was the end.
A true end.
“…But I have—”
She stopped.
Her voice caught.
“….”
“…With me…?”
The words came out faint.
Uncertain.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Confused.
What was she about to say?
What was she trying to hold onto?
There was something.
Something important.
A certainty.
Something she used to rely on—
“….”
But now—
She couldn’t remember it.
Hurting her head, she slowly shook it and sighed….
“…hm? why am I here…?”
She mumbled it again, quieter this time, like the words were slipping out on their own. Her eyes trembled, unfocused, as if she had just woken up in the middle of something she couldn’t remember starting.
“Ah… that’s right. The plants…”
She turned slowly, her gaze dragging across the small garden. Everything looked… fine. The soil was damp, freshly watered. None of the stems were bent, none of the leaves crushed. She hadn’t stepped on anything important this time.
Sigh…
A soft breath left her lips, and a faint smile followed—not bright, not warm, just… enough to pass.
The light in Celestine’s pale white irises dimmed.
Crackle—!
Something inside her shifted.
Deep within, where her mana had been building for far too long, the cold finally gave way. Not all at once, not violently—just a small, quiet fracture.
And that was enough.
Because from that crack, the cold seeped deeper.
Colder than before.
Something in her heart—
Slowly,
quietly,
froze.
“Celestine Aunty’s here! Let’s go help her cook so we can practice magic immediately…!”
“Coming!”
Anica’s voice cut through everything, bright and alive. It didn’t belong to the stillness around her.
Celestine turned, just as gently as before, and walked back inside the house like nothing had happened.
Like nothing ever did.
…..
“…..”
They say a lover’s intuition are sharper than any blade.
And maybe that was true.
Because even when there was nothing to see, they still noticed.
Doubt… was dangerous. It could rot something good from the inside out. But sometimes, that same doubt was the only thing that kept everything from falling apart.
Riley leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the screen in front of him.
“…What is she doing?”
His voice was low, almost lost in thought.
On the screen, Snow’s trial continued.
Time inside it moved differently—years had already passed.
Years.
And yet…
She hadn’t progressed.
Not really.
At first, it looked like patience. Like she was taking her time, observing, waiting for the right answer.
But the longer he watched, the clearer it became.
That wasn’t it.
She wasn’t moving forward.
She was repeating.
The same actions.
The same routine.
Over and over again.
Like she was stuck in a loop she didn’t even realize she was in.
“…No…”
Riley’s eyes narrowed slightly.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t move forward.
It was worse.
She wasn’t even trying to.
Or maybe—
She had already forgotten that she was supposed to.
“Hey… did your queen do something to Snow?”
His voice came out low, but the edge in it was clear.
“P-Please be careful with that!”
Anica’s reaction was immediate. The frost dragon stiffened as she watched Riley’s hand tighten around the orb.
It wasn’t just any object.
That orb—glowing faintly with a cold, pale light—was the dungeon core itself. The heart of this place. The thing keeping everything running… including the trial playing out before them.
And right now, it was creaking under his grip.
“The trial you’re watching… it’s connected to the dungeon’s energy,” Anica continued, trying to steady her voice. “The Frost Queen’s trial especially. It’s not something you can just… force your way through from the outside.”
She exhaled, long and uneasy, her brows pulling together.
“Your partner is inside the Queen’s trial. Even I don’t fully understand how far the Queen’s influence reaches once someone enters it.”
There was a pause.
Then, more firmly—
“But I don’t think that human is being controlled. And even if she was… that would still be part of the trial.”
Her gaze dropped to his hand again.
“So please… handle the orb with care.”
“…..”
Riley didn’t answer.
He just looked at her for a moment—expression neutral, unreadable—before shifting his eyes back to the screen.
Snow was still there.
Still moving.
Still… repeating.
His grip didn’t loosen.
At this rate…
…won’t Snow fail?
The thought sat heavy in his mind.
The third trial—he knew this type. He’d seen it before, back when everything was still just a game.
It wasn’t about strength.
It wasn’t even about skill.
It was a puzzle.
A test of interpretation. Of truth. Of seeing through what’s in front of you and understanding what it actually means.
And for that—
You needed to understand yourself.
Or in this case…
You needed to understand Snow.
Your own ABSOLUTE.
Riley’s gaze hardened slightly.
He had thought she’d breeze through something like this. Out of everyone, she should have been the one least likely to get stuck.
She wasn’t the type to get lost.
She wasn’t the type to hesitate.
And yet—
“…This isn’t right.”
Something was off.
The trial felt… tilted.
Not completely unfair.
Just enough to guide things in a certain direction.
A direction that didn’t belong to Snow.
“…tch.”
Riley clicked his tongue softly.
It wasn’t broken.
But it was clear.
This trial wasn’t neutral.
It was leaning.
Subtly.
Quietly.
Toward one ending—
The one the Frost Queen wanted.
’Should I make a move now…?’
The thought came quietly, but it didn’t leave.
Riley’s eyes stayed on the screen, watching Snow move through the same motions again… and again… and again.
“…Even if she doesn’t like it…”
He muttered under his breath.
Inheriting the Frost Queen’s power… that was just one path. A strong one, sure—but not the only one.
Snow didn’t need that specifically to stand beside him.
There were other ways.
Weaker maybe but safer ones.
’No…’
He let out a quiet sigh, his grip finally easing—just slightly—around the orb.
’…what am I thinking.’
He had already promised her.
Not protection.
Not control.
But the chance to stand beside him on her own terms.
If he interfered now—if he pulled her out, or forced the trial to bend—
That wouldn’t be helping.
That would be taking it away from her.
“…That’d just be betrayal.”
And more than that—
Everything they had done to reach this point… all the setup, the planning, the risks—
It would all be meaningless.
Riley’s gaze lowered for a moment, thoughts shifting.
“…And there’s Evelyn…”
“…Was this part of it too?”
Did she expect this?
Did she already account for the trial being… altered like this?
His expression tightened slightly.
“…tch.”
On top of that—
The break wouldn’t last much longer.
They still had to return to the academy.
Things were already moving there, with or without them.
And the others…
“…They’re probably starting to worry.”
A small pause.
Then another thought surfaced.
“…Now that I think about it…”
Riley’s brows knit faintly.
“That cat…”
He hadn’t shown up.
Not once.
Cheshire.
For something this messy, that annoying, unpredictable cat should’ve already been poking his nose in.
He was supposed to be a hidden ace.
The kind you call when things stop making sense.
And yet—
“…Nothing.”
Riley’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Where the hell are you?”
…..
Meanwhile—
Inside the Frost Queen’s throne room.
Cold air sat heavy in the vast hall, unmoving.
At the center, upon a throne carved from ice itself, the Frost Queen remained still. Her expression was as it always was—
Calm.
Distant.
Unchanging.
Her gaze faced forward.
And yet—
She wasn’t alone.
“Yo~ long time no see~”
A voice broke the silence, casual… almost playful.
A puff of smoke twisted in the air.
And from it—
A floating cat’s head appeared.
Grinning.
“I didn’t expect an apocalypse like you to be here… but hmm~ you feel a bit different.”
The cat tilted slightly, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
“Are you his daughter? Or maybe an inheritor?”
A pause.
Then a shrug—well, as much as a floating head could shrug.
“Eh, whatever works~”
The grin widened.
“So—mind guiding me a bit?”
His tone stayed light, but there was intent behind it now.
“You see, the lover of my master is currently calling for yours truly’s grand appearance~”
He spun lazily in the air, smoke trailing behind him.
“But because of the little… ’adjustments’ you made to this place, I can’t quite pinpoint where he is.”
A soft whistle.
“Gotta say—pretty impressive.”
Then, just as quickly, his expression twisted into mild annoyance.
“But also really annoying~”
The Frost Queen didn’t react.
She simply looked at him—
As the cat’s grin slowly sharpened.