How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 685: Frost Queen 4

Chapter 685: Frost Queen 4

It was a rather strange morning.

The sun hung high in the sky, warm and gentle, and a fresh breeze drifted in through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers from the academy gardens.

By all accounts, it was the kind of morning that should have felt peaceful.

Yet Lily couldn’t shake the unease creeping up her spine.

She carefully prepared a cup of tea for her young lady, her movements practiced and quiet, but her eyes kept flickering back to Liyana.

On the surface, her mistress looked as pristine and beautiful as ever—her posture graceful, her expression soft, her fingers delicately cradling the porcelain cup.

But Lily knew better.

Ever since Riley and his supposed future fiancées had returned to the academy, Liyana’s mood had subtly darkened.

Not in a loud or obvious way—no outbursts, no sharp words—but in the kind of silence that pressed heavily against the air, the kind that made servants walk on eggshells without quite knowing why.

And now…

Now Liyana was smiling.

Not her usual playful smile. Not the gentle one she used in public.

This one was bright. Focused. Almost… anticipatory.

Lily swallowed.

Her mistress stared at the tea with unusual interest, as if the cup itself held some delightful secret.

That alone was enough to make Lily shiver.

Over the time, serving Liyana personally had taught her one very important lesson:

Liyana only smiled like that when she was planning something.

Something dangerous.

I mustn’t interrupt whatever she’s doing…

The last time Lily had accidentally called out to her at the wrong moment—had even slightly broken her concentration—those quiet crimson eyes had turned toward her.

Lily had felt as if her very soul had been weighed and found wanting.

Whatever occupied Liyana’s thoughts now was none of her business.

Absolutely none.

With that decision made, Lily moved as carefully as she could.

She stepped into Liyana’s view just long enough to place the freshly brewed tea set beside her, arranging it neatly, hands steady despite the pounding of her heart.

Then she turned, ready to leave in silence—perhaps to report to the head maid, or better yet, to put as much distance between herself and this room as possible.

But—

Her small body jerked as a hand suddenly caught her sleeve.

Everything in Lily went cold.

Ah… I’m going to die.

Just that single, gentle grip sent a spike of terror through her chest. Her knees nearly gave out as she froze in place.

“M-Miss…?” Lily’s voice trembled despite her best efforts.

“Stay,” Liyana said softly.

It wasn’t a command spoken loudly.

It didn’t need to be.

“B-But—” Lily started, then stopped herself immediately. “I… I will do as you wish…”

She knew better than to argue now.

Liyana’s smile never faded.

She lifted the porcelain cup with practiced grace, the motion fluid and refined, and took a slow sip of tea.

Steam brushed against her lips as her vertical irises—sharp and unmistakably draconic—gleamed in a deep, luminous crimson.

“Looks like darling is doing something interesting again…” she murmured softly.

Reflected within those crimson eyes was the image of her beloved Riley, trekking through the frozen northern lands side by side with Snow.

White plains stretched endlessly beneath their feet, frost and danger clinging to every step.

It had been a long while since she had been able to observe Riley so openly.

Normally, the wretched blessings that cursed goddess had wrapped around him would have blocked her sight entirely.

Even within the academy, that red authority—eerily reminiscent of the now-fallen White Queen—had interfered with her vision, preventing her from spying on him directly.

But now…

Now that part of her seals had been loosened.

Her draconic eyes could finally pierce through.

Is it because another absolute authority is clashing with the ones already bound to Riley?

She didn’t know.

And for once… she didn’t care.

All that mattered was that she could see him again after so long—unfiltered, unobstructed.

Watching his movements, his expressions, the subtle way his presence bent the world around him.

The corners of her lips curved slightly higher.

Should I surprise him?

The idea of teleporting directly to his side sparked amusement in her mind.

Appearing out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around him, watching that familiar flicker of shock cross his face…

How delightful.

But—

No…

Her smile softened, though the possessive glint in her eyes never dulled.

Darling would question her.

Riley was far too perceptive for his own good. He would ask why she was there, how she found him, what she was hiding. And worse… he might grow suspicious.

Or disappointed.

Perhaps even resentful.

That would be… troublesome.

Riley was precious to her. More than anyone else in this world.

And while the urge to lock him away—safe, untouched, forever hers—whispered sweetly at the back of her mind, she knew better than to act on it now.

Not yet.

Patience had always been one of her virtues.

So, Liyana simply smiled, her fingers resting lightly against the warm porcelain as she took another slow sip of tea. She would watch. She would wait.

After all—

It wouldn’t be long until they meet again.

…..

“This is where it ends, oh pitiful intruders!”

The declaration rang through the frozen halls as Riley and Snow crossed the dungeon’s threshold, the last echoes of battle still lingering behind them.

Shattered ice and fading frost marked where the monsters that had rushed out of the gate had been cut down moments earlier.

Inside, the cold was different.

It wasn’t the biting chill of the northern winds, nor the natural frost of ice-born creatures.

This cold was excessive, unnatural—dense enough to cling to the skin, to seep into bone and mana alike.

Even the air itself felt heavy, every breath releasing a pale mist.

Waiting for them stood a group of men clad in black robes.

Grotesque markings—twisted sigils carved and burned into flesh—glowed faintly beneath their garments, pulsing with a sickly red hue that clashed violently against the white and blue of the frozen dungeon.

Despite the brutal cold, the robed figures stood comfortably, as if the environment welcomed them.

At their center was an old man.

He stepped forward with arms spread wide, as though welcoming honored guests rather than intruders.

His lips stretched into a rapturous smile, eyes gleaming with unhinged delight.

“Tsk! Tsk! Haah~”

he clicked his tongue, voice dripping with mock pity.

“Such pure, pitiful souls to come all this way… Is this truly it? Really it?”

He tilted his head, inhaling deeply as if savoring their presence.

“How tragic,”

he continued, words spilling out in euphoric incoherence.

“Souls so clean, so untainted by devotion, yet burdened by fate itself—held by such fragile threads—and still you walk straight into our arms.”

His laughter echoed sharply against the ice-lined walls.

“Oh, god almighty… anomalies,” the old man muttered, clasping his hands together in false reverence.

“Could it be that fate itself has finally cracked? That these fair heroes will perish here, never fulfilling their destined mission?”

He shuddered in delight.

“Oh truly… how pitiful.”

Snow’s expression hardened, her grip tightening subtly around her wand. She leaned slightly toward Riley, her voice low and controlled.

“Riley… they are—”

“Yeah,” Riley replied quietly, eyes already cold and alert.

They didn’t need time to think it through.

Demonic worshippers.

Or maybe even.

Cultists of an evil god.

Whatever title they went by, the conclusion was the same—these were not merely madmen hiding in the dark, but organized, dangerous fanatics.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The unnatural coordination of the monsters.

The cages.

The chains.

The fact that humans were being gathered, transported… preserved.

Riley’s gaze sharpened as it swept across the robed figures.

So that’s it…

These people weren’t being hunted as food.

They were offerings.

Since reports of demonic and evil-god worshippers had been steadily increasing as of late, the chances of such groups spreading across different regions of the continent were already high.

Still, Riley hadn’t expected to encounter them here—inside a northern dungeon of all places.

The air reeked of death.

It wasn’t the clean scent of monsters slain in battle, but something far worse—old blood, decaying flesh, and the lingering residue of suffering.

Whatever humans had been captured and dragged into this place were either already dead… or clinging to life in states better described as prolonged torture than survival.

Riley’s jaw tightened.

These people were deranged, their minds long since eroded by fanatic devotion. If anything, that made it unlikely they were the origin of the monsters’ unnatural coordination.

Madmen rarely orchestrated something this precise.

But they were undeniably part of it.

Riley’s blue eyes flickered faintly as he focused on the cultists, mana sharpening his perception.

…Strange.

The energy clinging to them—thin, warped, and invasive—felt familiar.

Not identical, but close enough to unsettle him.

Where have I felt this before…?

His mind sifted rapidly through past encounters.

Absurdly powerful goddesses like Eris or Erebil, whose presence still lingered like a scar across his existence… even the tiger god he had met briefly long ago.

The Demon King Asmodeus surfaced briefly in his thoughts as well.

None of them matched.