How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 684: Frost Queen 3

Chapter 684: Frost Queen 3

Inside the grand duke’s office, the atmosphere was heavy with silence.

Stacks of documents lay spread across the broad desk—military reports, supply routes, monster activity logs, and letters stamped with imperial seals.

The grand duke methodically sifted through them, one page after another, his movements steady even as his mind worked far ahead, already arranging what must be reported to the emperor and what should not be said just yet.

Just as he set one paper aside—

He felt it.

A presence.

Before the door even opened, his crimson eyes lifted from the desk.

The knights stationed outside reacted a heartbeat later, straightening as they reached for the handle.

The heavy doors creaked open, and a man stepped inside.

A battle-hardened old warrior.

His armor bore countless scars, dulled not by neglect but by years of use.

His posture was straight, disciplined, yet there was no mistaking the exhaustion etched into his features—an exhaustion born not of age alone, but of countless campaigns survived.

“Your Grace…”

The man bowed deeply.

“Count Roverick,” the grand duke replied, rising slowly from his chair. “You have returned.”

“Yes,” Roverick said, lifting his head. “Fortunately, the goddess hasn’t seen fit to bestow any trials upon me during my return.”

The words were casual.

Too casual.

The grand duke’s gaze sharpened just slightly.

“I see,” he said calmly. “Then you must have had quite the fortunate encounter at the academy.”

For a fraction of a second—

The count stiffened.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but his shoulders tensed and his breath hitched before discipline snapped back into place.

His expression smoothed over, the veteran warrior once more firmly in control.

That fleeting reaction did not escape the grand duke.

Amusing.

There were very few things left in this world capable of unsettling Count Roverick—certainly not students, nobles, or academy politics.

But the sudden appearance of those two…

It didn’t take much imagination to piece together what must have happened during the count’s visit, especially given the nature of the invitation he had received.

The grand duke allowed himself a faint, knowing smile.

I suppose my niece truly is growing more and more like my sister…

The thought lingered, edged with both pride and a trace of unease.

Then again, Snow had always been sharp.

Calculating. Observant to a fault.

Perhaps this was not something she had grown into—but something she had always possessed.

A family trait, after all

The grand duke gestured calmly toward the seat across from his desk.

“Sit,” the grand duke said calmly. “You look like a man who has much to report.”

“I appreciate the kindness, Your Grace,” Count Roverick replied, his voice steady, “but I would prefer to remain as I am for now.”

“Is that so.”

The grand duke did not press the matter.

To most nobles, the count’s refusal would have been seen as defiance—an open slight against ducal authority.

But these two men were neither young nor foolish.

They had stood on battlefields soaked in blood, had buried comrades and watched kingdoms change.

There was no insult here, only habit and caution.

Roverick stood clad in his knight armor rather than the ceremonial suit he so rarely wore.

The metal was scuffed, practical, and worn in all the right places.

It was the armor of a man prepared for war, as if another monster wave might crash through the walls at any moment.

“Your travels must have exhausted you, Count,” the grand duke said, turning fully toward him. “Please, be at ease for now. I can assure you—there will be no monster waves today.”

“We can never be certain of such things, Your Grace,” Roverick replied without hesitation.

A faint smile tugged at the duke’s lips.

“I won’t stop you from wearing whatever allows you to feel at ease,” he said. “But do try to rest, at least for the time being. The people here look to you for protection. Seeing you strained—or worse, weakened—would only deepen their fears.”

He paused, his gaze sharp yet sincere.

“I may bear the title of the strongest within these lands, but it is you they trust, Count. This county relies on your presence more than you realize.”

Roverick opened his mouth, ready to argue—then stopped.

The words struck closer than he expected.

With a quiet breath, the count’s shoulders finally lowered, tension easing from his stance.

He knew better than anyone that pushing himself relentlessly would only fracture his resolve in the long run.

And if there was one man whose reassurance he could trust in matters both mundane and absurd, it was the grand duke standing before him.

“…Very well,” Roverick said at last. “Just for now.”

The grand duke inclined his head slightly, satisfied.

Seeing that the count had nothing further to add, the grand duke was just about to dismiss him when—

“Your Grace…”

“Hm?”

“There is… something I must report,”

Count Roverick said slowly.

“It does not concern my activities at the academy directly—but it is a matter I believe should be spoken of privately, if possible.”

As he spoke, his gaze flicked briefly toward the knights stationed within the office.

Understanding immediately, the grand duke lifted a hand in a subtle gesture.

The knights did not hesitate.

Without a word, they straightened, bowed, and exited the room, the heavy doors closing behind them with a quiet thud.

Silence settled.

“So,” the grand duke said at last, his tone even, “what is this important report you wish to share?”

Roverick exhaled softly, as if weighing his words.

“Her Imperial Highness… Princess Snow, has informed me of her intent to personally deal with the monster situation in the north.”

“…”

The grand duke did not respond right away.

He already knew.

“….”

“….”

For a long moment, the room remained quiet, the duke’s crimson eyes fixed on nothing in particular as countless possibilities raced through his mind.

“…I see,” he finally said.

And nothing more.

?????

…..

Meanwhile—at the first entrance of the Frozen Castle Dungeon.

An old man stood amidst piles of mangled flesh and frozen remains, his frail body trembling—not from cold, but from elation.

Failures littered the chamber.

Misshapen corpses, half-formed abominations, experiments that had collapsed before reaching completion.

But this time—

This time was different.

His aged face flushed deep red as he stared at the result of his painstaking labor.

The darkness before him pulsed softly, its form unstable yet obedient, writhing as if breathing.

A shudder ran through the old man’s spine.

“Ah… ahh…” he breathed, overcome with bliss.

He knelt slowly, reverently, as though before a sacred altar.

“Hello,” he whispered.

The word alone sent a tremor through the air.

A wide, unhinged smile stretched across his face as he reached out and gently patted the head of the being made entirely of shadow.

His creation.

No—his child.

“My perfection,” he crooned lovingly. “Won’t you come to daddy?”

At his words, the dark being shifted.

And then—almost imperceptibly—it nodded.

The old man laughed softly, the sound echoing far too happily through the frozen halls.

The experiment had succeeded.

…

By the time Riley and Snow finally reached the dungeon gate, both of them slowed to a halt almost instinctively.

Before them loomed a gigantic portal, its size so vast it felt less like an entrance and more like a tear carved directly into the world itself.

They had expected something large—considering the frost giants, drakes, and colossal monsters that had barred their way—but even so, the sheer scale of it was overwhelming.

The gate towered high into the frozen air, a swirling mass of pale-blue and white mana rotating endlessly at its center.

Frost clung to the surrounding ground in jagged crystalline patterns, as if the land itself had been scarred by the portal’s presence.

Every pulse of mana it released carried crushing weight, pressing against the chest like an invisible hand.

Not violent.

Not aggressive.

Just… absolute.

“…We’re here, huh,” Riley murmured.

Snow nodded quietly.

Their journey here had been deceptively straightforward—no detours, no hesitation, just a steady march forward. Yet it was anything but easy.

With every passing kilometer, the monsters had grown stronger, more coordinated, more relentless.

And everywhere they walked, the signs of slaughter followed them—broken chains, shattered cages, frozen blood staining the snow.

This wasn’t a hunting ground.

It was a harvesting route.

Snow clenched her fingers slightly around her wand.

She had powerful ice magic at her disposal, spells that once would have been more than enough.

But the sudden appearance of high-ranking monsters had forced her to push her casting speed and mana control to their limits.

More than once, if Riley hadn’t stepped in—cutting down enemies, forcing space, drawing aggro—she might not have been able to finish a spell in time.

“Hoh…” Snow exhaled slowly, a frosted breath escaping her lips.

Riley glanced at her. “Getting really nervous now?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted honestly, eyes fixed on the portal.

“This gate alone makes me feel like I’m standing in front of Rose when she fully releases her mana.”

Riley snorted softly. “Rose’s mana is way more oppressive than this. Heavier. More… suffocating.”

“Fufu,” Snow chuckled lightly. “I suppose that’s true.”

The tension eased just a little.

Snow straightened her posture, letting the humor pass as she regained her composure.

Then she turned to face Riley fully, her expression calm—but resolute.

“So,” she said, “you’re only going to help me up to the first floor?”

“If it even has floors,”

Riley replied.

“If it’s a layered dungeon, I can guide you through the first one. But if it’s an open field that leads straight to the castle…”

He paused.

“Then I’ll only be able to interfere at the entrance.”

“I see…”

She nodded once, firmly.

“That’s enough.”

This wasn’t a battle she wanted him to fight for her.

This was her trial.