How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 607: Frozen Heart
Chapter 607: Frozen Heart
The skies were dark.
Crackle!
BOOM!
Red lightning danced endlessly, tearing across the heavens like veins of fire.
On top of a half-destroyed church, Snow sat at the broken altar.
Her body trembled, her breath shallow.
A faint, translucent barrier surrounded her — thin as glass but strong enough to keep her trapped.
Her once soft, angelic face was now drawn and weary, lined with exhaustion and streaked with faint black markings that crawled like veins under her skin.
Her blue eyes flickered with fear as her trembling hand rested over her lower abdomen.
She swallowed hard.
“Oh my~ oh my~,” a voice purred through the crackling storm. “I didn’t expect you to be one so caring. Is that why darling fell for you, perhaps?”
The voice came from the other end of the ruined hall — smooth, teasing, and soaked with malice.
From the shadows, she appeared.
Liyana Heavens.
Dressed in a sleek black gown that shimmered faintly under the flashes of lightning, she walked with the calm of someone who owned the ground beneath her feet.
Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, her lips curled into a confident, mocking smile as her heels clicked across the cracked marble floor.
Snow’s brows furrowed, her voice trembling but firm.
“What do you want?”
“Fufu~ what I want?” Liyana tilted her head, her hair flowing like ink in the air. “I think that’s been obvious from the start, no? Just tell me where the Saintess is, and maybe—” she smirked, “—I’ll let you go.”
Snow’s expression hardened. “We both know that’s a lie.”
Liyana laughed softly, a delicate sound that carried something wicked. “Well, obviously. But a little hope in the face of despair…” she raised a finger, tracing lazy shapes in the air, “…isn’t that what you humans cling to when everything falls apart?”
Snow stayed silent. Her jaw tightened. The air around her chilled — frost beginning to form under her bare feet.
Liyana’s smile widened as her eyes flicked down to where Snow’s hand still rested protectively against her stomach.
“Hmm…” she hummed. “The young one seems to be growing well.”
Snow froze — eyes wide, pulse racing. Instinct took over.
“Don’t you dare…” she hissed.
In an instant, frost burst from her palm.
A surge of icy magic wrapped around her, forming jagged crystals that rose like spears between her and Liyana.
The air turned white, her breath misting as her aura flared.
Liyana only laughed — a soft, cruel sound that echoed through the ruined church.
“Oh, so protective…” she purred, stepping forward unfazed as the tips of the ice spears melted in her presence. “I see now… so that’s why he broke the world for you.”
Snow’s heart pounded at those words — her fingers trembling, the fear and fury mixing until she could barely breathe.
“Don’t worry — I have no plans on killing you or your child. That much is a promise. After all, darling might never forgive me if I do…” Liyana purred, circling like a predator.
“Riley won’t ever forgive you after what you’ve done. Do you really think you can be forgiven!?” Snow spat, voice thin but steady.
Liyana paused and laughed, soft and cruel. “Hmm. Forgiven? I doubt it. But I was born this way, love. Passing the blame onto me alone is unfair, isn’t it? If you hadn’t taken my darling from me… perhaps none of this would’ve happened.” She tilted her head, as if rehearsing a sad song.
“Riley was never yours to begin with,” Snow said, jaw tight.
Those words were a match. Liyana’s face snapped.
She lunged forward with animal speed, her fingers wrapping around Snow’s throat like iron.
The altar cracked under their weight.
Snow clawed, trying to pry the hands away.
Her lungs burned.
Her vision blurred red at the edges. Liyana watched her struggle with a smile — curious, pleased.
As Snow’s face went pale, Liyana finally released her, letting the girl fall back onto broken marble.
Cough!
Cough!
“Consider this a lesson in grace,” Liyana said, voice silk over steel. “There are limits to my kindness. Keep that in mind.”
Snow’s fingers trembled where Liyana had gripped her. Her breath came in shallow, ragged pulls.
She felt the barrier’s thin hum around her like a phone’s vibration — useless and bitter.
Fear sat in her stomach, heavy and hot.
Liyana clapped once. The sound snapped like a whip. She bent down until her face was close — too close — and smiled with teeth that didn’t belong in a choir.
“Here’s a thought,” she said softly. “Instead of telling me where the Saintess is, tell me where your darling is. This time I promise I’ll let you go — alive.” Her smile widened until it cut the shadows. “A much better deal, no?”
Snow’s whole body shook. Her hand slid deeper over her belly, guarding what lived there.
Liyana’s eyes — sudden, vertical slits like a dragon’s — fixed on her.
They glowed thinly with a hunger that wasn’t hunger for flesh.
It was hunger for pain, for control.
“You expect me to hand him to you,” Snow whispered. “To give you the name that cost everything?”
“If you want to keep that child breathing,” Liyana said, almost tender, “it’s a start.”
A sound rose from outside — the sky answering with a distant boom as lightning ripped.
Snow thought of Riley.
Of what he had done.
Of the way his face had looked when he held her once — fierce and broken in the same place.
The memory steadied her like a breath in the dark.
“No,” she said, small but steady. “I won’t tell you. Never.”
Liyana’s smile thinned. She straightened, graceful and dangerous. “Then I’ll take my answers where I can find them,” she said.
Liyana paused, savoring the moment.
“And darling… if you ever see him again, tell him this: I’m patient.”
Snow felt a cold hand close around her heart even though Liyana’s fingers never touched skin.
The barrier hummed.
The church groaned.
Snow pressed her forehead to her knees and breathed until the shaking stopped.
Liyana stepped back, the black dress whispering over marble.
She gave a final, disdainful bow and walked toward the ruin’s broken lip, where the red lightning cut the horizon like a blade.
Behind her, she called over her shoulder, voice playful and deadly.
“Oh — and Snow?”
Snow didn’t look up.
“If he comes to save you… make him suffer first.”
…
“Snow!”
“Princess!”
…Where?
Was that a dream?
“Make use of my gift oh dear lucky me….”
Snow’s eyes fluttered open.
Her vision swam — blurry shapes, flickers of light, the faint crackle of fire somewhere nearby.
Everything felt distant, muffled, like waking from a long, black nightmare.
Her heartbeat thudded weakly in her chest, every pulse heavy with pain.
Am I… still alive?
“Please hold on, you’ll be alright!”
A voice — shaky, familiar — reached her through the haze.
Warm hands caught her shoulders, holding her steady as her knees gave out.
Snow blinked hard, trying to focus.
The blurred figure before her slowly came into shape — messy brown hair, teary eyes, trembling lips.
“…A-Alice?” she whispered, voice barely audible.
“Y-yeah, it’s me,” Alice stammered, trying to smile even as panic trembled in her tone. “Don’t worry, sis. Help’s on the way, just— just stay awake, okay?”
Snow managed a faint nod.
Her mind felt heavy, like she was sinking underwater.
Everything was spinning.
“…I… I see…” she murmured, words slurring together.
The world around her pulsed in and out of focus. Her head throbbed.
She tried to think — to remember — but her thoughts were scattered like broken glass.
Then, slowly, it came back.
The competition, the forest.
The bright holographic screen lights.
The sound of metal clashing and spells igniting.
Then— the ambush.
An elven student—
Snow’s breathing quickened. “What… happened to everyone?”
Alice froze. Her hands, still pressed against Snow’s shoulder, trembled.
“…Alice?”
Alice’s eyes darted around the clearing — the shattered trees, the faint glow of still-burning magic runes etched into the ground.
The silence said enough.
The enemy was gone. But so were most of Snow’s teammates.
Only the wind answered now, carrying with it the faint scent of blood and ash.
“I-It’s alright,” Alice finally said, forcing her voice to sound calm, even though it cracked with every word. “Everyone’s fine… you just need to rest for now, okay?”
Snow’s eyes drifted half-shut.
She could tell it was a lie.
The air was too heavy, too quiet. But she didn’t have the strength to argue.
“…Alright…” she whispered.
Alice swallowed hard, brushing away the blood on Snow’s cheek with her sleeve.
Her own hands were shaking.
She looked over at the ruins of what used to be their team — the fallen flags, the shattered stones, the unmoving bodies — and bit down a sob.
Right now, she couldn’t tell Snow the truth.
Not yet.
“Let me ease her pain, senior…”
Lucas, who’d been standing quietly by the side, finally stepped forward.
His expression was calm, but there was a weight in his voice — that kind of steadiness you only get after seeing too much.
He knelt beside Snow, placing one hand gently over her chest.
A faint golden light seeped from his palm, wrapping around her like a soft veil. It shimmered, pure and faintly warm, brushing away some of the tension in her trembling form.
His divinity wasn’t one meant for healing — it wasn’t even close.
But even the smallest fragment of divine energy could ease her pain, if only for a moment.
Snow’s breathing slowed. The sharp gasps turned into softer, steadier draws of air.
Alice, standing behind him, watched in silence — her fingers twitching. She could feel it too. Snow’s mana was a mess, swirling and crashing inside her like a violent storm.
Teleportation wasn’t an option.
Any attempt at long-distance transfer could tear her apart mid-transit, or worse — fuse her unstable mana with the surrounding ley lines.
Alice bit her lip. She could try to open a small portal, maybe just enough to call for help—
“Don’t even think about it, master~”
A teasing, lilting voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Cheshire?”
With a puff of gray smoke, a floating head materialized beside her — sharp grin, messy hair, and those unmistakable emerald eyes glinting like mischief wrapped in smoke.
“Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you’ve survived this long,” Cheshire said, his tone half playful, half scolding. His floating head drifted lazily toward Snow, eyes narrowing as he scanned the faint magic pulsing around her body.
“Hm… yeah, thought so. Her mana’s a disaster.”
Alice frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Right now, her mana is going wild — completely berserk,” Cheshire said, his voice growing serious. “It’s not just unstable… it’s like something foreign got mixed into it.”
Lucas’s hand froze mid-motion. He glanced up sharply. “Something foreign… You don’t mean—?”
Cheshire waved off the thought with a puff of smoke. “No, no, don’t panic. It’s not demonic, at least not in the usual sense. More like… something weird? Out of place. Almost like her mana’s trying to reject something that’s part of her now.”
Alice’s brow furrowed. “Reject… something part of her?”
“Mm-hm. That’s what it feels like.” Cheshire’s grin faded as he leaned closer, his eyes glowing faintly green as he looked deeper into the traces of Snow’s aura. “Whatever happened to her, it wasn’t just a fight. Something touched her soul directly — something that shouldn’t even exist in this plane.”
Lucas’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.
“Anyway,” Cheshire went on, voice lighter again though his tone was edged with concern, “trying to expose her to more mana — divine, demonic, whatever — would only make things worse. Her core’s fragile. She needs time to stabilize on her own.”
Alice’s hands tightened into fists. “Then what do we do? Just wait here?”
Cheshire smirked, floating backward with a lazy spin. “Unless you’ve got Rose hidden in your pocket, yeah. That girl’s the only one I know who can break magic logic and call it an afternoon.”
“We have to do something, at least!” Alice shouted, voice trembling between frustration and fear. Her eyes darted from Snow’s still body to Lucas, then to the quiet chaos of their surroundings.
Cheshire floated a few inches from her face, puffing out a lazy sigh.
“Now~ Now~, Master, no need to get all panicky.” His teasing tone didn’t quite hide the concern in his voice. “I understand your worries, but pushing through a mana overflux right now? That’s basically begging the universe to fry what’s left of your nerves.”
He drifted lower, emerald eyes glinting faintly. “And let’s not forget your current condition.”
His gaze flicked toward Alice’s stomach.
She froze. Her breath caught for half a second before she instinctively placed a hand over it — a quiet, almost invisible tremble running through her fingers.
“I—” she began, but Cheshire cut her off gently.
“Relax. I’m not scolding you, just reminding you that doing anything reckless right now isn’t an option.” He floated back, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout. “Besides, help’s already on the way. I can feel a few mana signatures closing in fast — academy staff, probably. And someone’s trying to tear open the dimensional barrier that demonic elf left behind. If I had to bet, I’d say it’s the principal.”
“The principal? Then we might still have a chance.”
“Oh, please,” Cheshire said, smirking. “You act like that’s the best news I’ve given all day. We’ve got plenty of backup. In fact,” his grin widened mischievously, “…we already have someone waiting just beyond the veil.”
He turned his head slightly, eyes glowing brighter. “Isn’t that right, oh my dear Lavine~?”
A soft voice, sharp and irritated, came from nowhere.
“Don’t address me as dear, you, narcissistic feline…”
Then, with a faint shimmer, the air rippled — and Lavine appeared.
Tiny, radiant wings fluttered as her fairy-sized form emerged from the distortion, silver light trailing behind her.
Despite her size, her presence filled the space, calm but commanding.
Alice blinked, startled. “Aren’t you… Riley’s familiar?”
Just the name alone made everyone’s chest tighten. For a moment, the fear faded — replaced by something fragile yet powerful. Hope.
If Riley were here… everything would be fine.
Cheshire grinned. “Well, since you’re here, Lavine, mind lending a hand? Our girl’s in bad shape.”
Lavine shook her head slowly, expression unreadable.
A hush fell. Even Cheshire frowned.
“Wait—what do you mean no?” he asked.
Lavine folded her arms, eyes glowing faintly. “There’s no need for me to help…” she said quietly. Then, as her voice softened into a knowing smirk, she added, “…after all, Master is coming.”
The moment those words left her lips—
The world shuddered.
A distortion rippled through the air, like glass bending under invisible pressure.
The ground trembled.
The light around them flickered and fractured, colors bleeding into one another like broken fragments of a dream.
Then—
Crack!
Reality split open.
Something dark and formless began to emerge behind Lavine — a shadow that wasn’t bound by shape or logic, stretching and folding until it took form.
Everyone froze.
Their minds went blank.
The air itself felt like it was holding its breath.
A voice, deep and echoing, slipped through the cracks of reality.
[Nobody here got hurt…]
[The Anomaly has Lied.]
[…The universe listened.]
Riley’s words reverberated through their souls — not loud, but heavy, as if the world itself was being rewritten with each syllable.
And then—
Everything snapped.
The distorted battlefield, the ruined land, the lingering scent of blood — all of it shattered like glass.
The next thing they knew, they were lying in white sheets under the gentle hum of mana lights.
….
Janica gasped as she opened her eyes.
The academy infirmary ceiling greeted her — spotless, serene.
Beside her bed, Lucas was awake too, still disoriented.
“Lucas…. what happened?”
“….”
Lucas didn’t reply.
Janica’s eyes lightly browed feeling a headache, she turned her head noticing all her team members were in the same ward, some awake some still asleep.
Snow lay peacefully nearby, breathing steady, her mana calm at last.
“…I’m glad”
For a moment, none of them spoke.
But what made everyone really pause… Was the young man sitting on a chair, eyes closed, Riley was asleep right besides Snow.
Janica still can’t remember what exactly happened.
But it was very clear.
Riley had somehow gotten involved…
