How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 712: Inheritance 5
Chapter 712: Inheritance 5
It was a dark place. Not just dim—empty.
No matter where she looked, there was nothing.
No walls, no sky, no end. Just a vast black stretch, like an unfinished canvas that swallowed everything whole. Even the air felt wrong—cold, still, and heavy against her skin.
Celestine didn’t understand.
All she could do was walk.
Her mother moved ahead of her, steady and calm, following a path Celestine couldn’t even see, yet somehow knew was there.
So she followed, step after step, the sound of her own footsteps echoing too loudly in the silence.
Where… is this place?
Just this morning, everything had been normal.
The same quiet routine, the same small breakfast, the same ordinary day she’d lived a hundred times before.
Then her mother changed.
It wasn’t sudden—not exactly.
But something in her voice had shifted.
It had grown heavier.
Serious. Like she had already decided something long before speaking.
She had told Celestine to come with her.
And Celestine had said yes.
That was the strange part.
She couldn’t remember how they got here.
No door. No road. No moment of arrival.
One second she was home… and the next—
This.
It was like the world had simply skipped.
A quiet unease crept up her spine.
No—more than that.
Something deeper stirred inside her. A fear that didn’t feel like her own. It pressed against her chest, sharp and restless, like something in her blood was trying to warn her… or remember something she couldn’t.
Her steps slowed.
“Mother…” her voice came out softer than she expected. “Where are we going?”
Her mother didn’t stop walking.
“…Celestine, my dear,” she said gently, “do you remember the promise I made to you four years ago?”
“…A promise?”
Celestine frowned, trying to grasp it. Something faint flickered in her memory, but it slipped away before she could hold onto it.
Her mother—Elea—let out a quiet chuckle, glancing back at her with a soft, almost distant smile.
“The truth about you and me,” she said. “I told you I would explain everything one day, didn’t I?”
“…”
Celestine said nothing. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“Once we reach the end of this path,” Elea continued, her voice light, almost cheerful, “I’ll tell you everything. And I’ll give you what’s rightfully yours… your inheritance.”
She paused.
“The life you were meant to live.”
The words sounded warm.
But something about them felt… hollow.
Celestine couldn’t explain it. Her mother’s tone was the same as always—gentle, kind—but there was no feeling behind it. Like the words were being spoken without truly being meant.
Her unease grew.
“…When we reach the end,” Celestine asked carefully, “will it be dangerous?”
“Of course not,” Elea replied without hesitation.
Celestine hesitated, then added quietly—
“For you, I mean.”
There was a pause.
“…No.”
Silence fell again.
And somehow, that answer felt worse.
“…Let’s go back…!”
Celestine’s voice broke the silence, sharper than she meant it to be.
Elea stopped.
For the first time since they entered that endless dark, she actually paused. Slowly, she turned her head, just enough to look back at her daughter.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked.
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
“I don’t need to know right now,” Celestine said quickly, her words rushing over each other. “So let’s just go back… I don’t want this. Not now.”
Elea watched her.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then—
“Celestine… we can’t.”
A chill ran through her.
“We need to go back,” Celestine insisted, her chest tightening. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Mom, but… I can tell it won’t be good. So let’s just go. Please.”
Still, Elea didn’t move.
“But what about the freedom you seek?” she asked softly.
Celestine shook her head immediately. “I don’t seek freedom.”
A small smile formed on Elea’s lips.
“Surely you jest,” she said. “I’m your mother. You think I wouldn’t know?” Her voice softened, almost fond. “Even if you never say it out loud… I’ve always known what you wanted.”
Celestine’s hands clenched at her sides.
“That’s not—”
“It is.”
The way Elea said it made it sound final. Like there was no room to argue.
Celestine swallowed, forcing herself to speak again, quieter this time.
“If we go any deeper…” she hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly, “I might lose something. I can feel it. So let’s just go back now. Anica’s waiting, and also Ri—”
She stopped.
The word caught in her throat.
“Ri?” Elea repeated.
Celestine froze.
Her eyes widened, her breath hitching as something slipped.
The rest of the name—gone.
No matter how hard she tried to reach for it, it wasn’t there.
“…What…?”
A cold panic crept in.
She knew that name mattered. She knew it was important—someone important—but all she had left was that single, broken piece.
Ri.
Nothing else.
Her fingers slowly curled inward.
Who did I forget?
Just trying to remember made her chest ache, like something had been ripped out of her without her noticing.
Her breathing grew uneven.
But Elea didn’t react.
Didn’t question it. Didn’t comfort her.
She just kept smiling.
“Don’t worry, Celestine,” she said gently. “You won’t lose anything.”
Her voice was warm.
Reassuring.
And yet—
“If anything…” she continued, reaching out and taking Celestine’s trembling hand in her own, “you’ll gain everything.”
Her grip was soft, but firm enough that Celestine couldn’t pull away.
Elea turned forward again and began walking.
Without thinking—without deciding—Celestine followed.
Step by step, deeper into the dark.
“Just trust your mother,” Elea said, her voice drifting back to her. “Like you always have.”
Celestine didn’t answer.
But something inside her did.
And it didn’t feel like trust.
…..
As they walked deeper, the tight pressure in Celestine’s chest began to ease.
For a moment, she thought maybe she had been wrong.
Maybe this place wasn’t dangerous.
Maybe—
Her heart suddenly spiked.
A violent, pounding rhythm slammed against her ribs, fast and uneven, like something inside her had just woken up.
Fear.
No—
Not just fear.
Something worse.
“…We’re here,” Elea said.
They stopped.
Celestine slowly lifted her head.
And froze.
They stood in a vast, open darkness—but now, something filled it.
Far ahead, suspended in the void, was a massive orb.
It glowed with a pale blue light, soft and cold, like frozen mana given form. Beneath it stood a towering castle of ice, jagged and unnatural, its spires stretching upward like claws trying to reach the orb above.
But the orb…
It wasn’t free.
Thick chains—formed from dark, frozen ice—wrapped tightly around it, binding it in place. They stretched outward, disappearing into the void, as if anchoring the orb to something far beyond sight.
Celestine couldn’t breathe.
It felt—
Familiar.
Not in a way she could explain.
But something deep inside her recognized it.
And then—
A voice.
No.
Not a voice.
A scream.
@!^#!@!!!!
D@#$$%@!!!!
DESTROY THEM ALL!!!
“Kyaah—!”
Celestine clutched her head as a sharp pain tore through her skull. It wasn’t just a headache—it felt like something was trying to break out from inside her mind.
“M-Mother—!” she gasped, her knees buckling slightly. “What is this…? What is that?!”
Elea looked at her.
And for the first time—
There was pain in her eyes.
“Your truth… my dear.”
Celestine stared at her, trembling. “What…?”
Elea’s expression softened, but it only made things worse.
“I knew this would hurt,” she said quietly. “I wanted to protect you from it… for as long as I could.”
Her voice wavered.
“But my time is running out.”
Slowly, Elea knelt in front of her, bringing herself down to the fallen Celestine’s level. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her daughter’s face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For being a selfish mother… for failing you.”
Celestine shook her head weakly. “What are you—”
“But don’t worry,” Elea continued, her voice steadying again. “Like I said… everything will be over soon.”
Her hand moved.
Slowly.
Toward Celestine’s chest.
“…Once you have everything.”
A faint blue glow began to form in her palm.
Celestine’s eyes widened. “M-Mom…?”
The moment Elea’s hand touched her—
Something shifted.
A cold force tore through Celestine’s body, like her very core was being pulled apart. The blue light flared brighter as Elea’s mana reached inside her—grabbing onto something unseen.
And then—
Clank.
Clank.
The sound echoed through the empty world.
From Celestine’s body, dark, ice-like chains burst outward, tearing through the space around her. They twisted and stretched forward, shooting toward the massive orb in the distance.
Linking.
Connecting.
Binding.
“Don’t worry,” Elea said softly, her voice almost soothing. “Mother will take care of everything.”
Celestine could barely hear her.
Her vision blurred.
Her body felt heavy.
Weak.
Elea leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against Celestine’s.
The blue light intensified between them.
And then—
Everything flooded in.
Light.
Images.
Fragments.
No—
Memories.
They poured into her mind all at once—faces she didn’t recognize, places she had never seen, voices whispering things she couldn’t understand. Some still. Some moving. Some alive.
It was overwhelming.
Too much.
Too fast.
Celestine’s body went still.
Her eyes lost focus.
And when the light finally faded—
She was no longer reacting.
Just… there.
Dazed.
Empty.
Elea slowly pulled away.
For a moment, she simply looked at her
“…There,” she murmured.
She stood up quietly.
It was done.
She had passed it on—most of it.
Her memories.
The truth she had kept hidden for so long.
Everything she had wanted to tell her… but never could.
Elea’s gaze lingered on Celestine’s face.
“…I leave the rest to you,” she whispered.
As Elea turned—
Something moved.
From the orb above, deep within the tangled mass of black, frozen chains… a shape began to pull itself free.
Slowly.
Dragging against its bindings.
The chains groaned, cracking under the strain as something forced its way out from the darkness.
Then—
It emerged.
A massive figure dropped into the open void below, its form unstable, shifting, unfinished. It didn’t have a true body—just fragments. Black frost clung to it like rotting flesh, constantly forming and breaking apart. Limbs stretched too long, then collapsed. Its shape twisted, unable to settle into anything whole.
It was wrong.
Completely wrong.
Cold poured from it in waves, thick enough to feel, freezing the air itself.
Maybe… it had once had a proper form.
Maybe whatever battle had sealed it here had torn it apart, leaving only this broken thing behind.
Or maybe—
This was all it ever was.
A curse.
The leftover hatred of something far greater.
A fragment of the primordial beast of frost.
Whatever the truth was…
It didn’t matter anymore.
Elea had already made her decision.
For her daughter—
She would end this.
ROOOOOOAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!
The creature let out a deafening scream, its voice tearing through the empty space. Black ice exploded outward from its body, spreading like a plague, cracking across the void in jagged waves.
The air itself seemed to freeze.
Then—
It spoke.
Or tried to.
“[EEEE—KKK…LEAA…AKK…!!!]”
The sound was broken. Twisted. Like something that no longer remembered how to use a voice.
But the intent—
It was clear.
It was calling her name.
Elea frowned slightly.
“For something so degraded…” she said quietly, her voice cutting cleanly through the chaos, “you still know how to bark.”
Her eyes began to glow.
A cold, pale blue.
Her hazel hair lifted gently, shimmering as frost gathered along each strand—its color slowly shifting, fading into a clear, sky-like blue.
Her mana spread outward.
Not wild.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
Absolute.
Pure white ice bloomed from her feet, expanding in all directions, swallowing the creeping darkness. Wherever it touched, the black frost halted—then shattered.
Silence followed in its wake.
Her staff appeared in her hand, forming from condensed frost and light, solidifying with a quiet, crystalline sound.
She stepped forward.
Just once.
“It’s about time,” she said, her voice steady, “we settle this properly… don’t you think?”
The creature shrieked again, its body writhing, growing more unstable under the pressure of her presence.
This thing—
This remnant—
Had lingered for far too long.
Lives had been lost.
Families destroyed.
Countless people cursed by its existence alone.
All because it refused to die.
Elea’s grip on her staff tightened slightly.
Her gaze hardened.
“No more.”
The air dropped even colder.
“Right here,” she said.
Frost gathered violently around her.
“Right now—”
The light around her flared.
“I will end you.”
…….
Meanwhile—
Back in the real world.
Riley stood still, his gaze fixed on the faint projection hovering above the dungeon core in his hand.
The image flickered softly, but it was clear enough.
He could see everything.
Celestine.
No—
Snow.
Living through it.
Experiencing it.
Reaching the very edge of what was supposed to be her “beginning.”
Riley frowned.
“…So this is the peak already,” he muttered under his breath.
This wasn’t just a trial.
It was a trap.
At first, he didn’t want to think that way. He chose not to.
Snow wasn’t weak. If anything, she was one of the most stubborn people he knew. Strong-willed to the point of being reckless sometimes.
She wouldn’t break easily.
…At least, that’s what he told himself.
But now—
Watching this unfold—
He couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The Frost Queen had planned this perfectly.
A world built to feel real.
Memories layered so deeply they blurred the line between self and illusion.
And worst of all—
A complete isolation from reality.
No outside interference.
No anchor.
No reminder of who she really was.
Even someone like Snow…
Had limits.
And if she crossed that limit—
She wouldn’t “fail” in the usual sense.
She would become Celestine.
Completely.
Irreversibly.
Riley’s grip around the dungeon core tightened slightly.
“…Snow failed.”
The words came out quiet.
Flat.
But the moment they left his mouth—
Soft footsteps echoed behind him.
Riley didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
But he did anyway.
The Frost Queen stood there, just a few steps away, her expression as calm and distant as ever. Like none of this concerned her in the slightest.
Like this was all expected.
Just looking at her face—
Riley understood.
“…So that’s it,” he said, his voice low. “You never planned on passing anything down, did you?”
The Frost Queen tilted her head slightly, a faint smile forming on her lips.
“My… you realized?” she said softly.
There was no denial.
“But technically speaking,” she continued, almost playfully, “I am passing something down, am I not?”
Riley let out a quiet breath through his nose.
“…Didn’t take you for someone who makes jokes.”
“Is that so?”
Her smile didn’t fade.
If anything—
It deepened.
That’s when it clicked fully.
She wasn’t testing Snow.
She was targeting her.
Her existence.
Her identity.
Everything that made her her.
This entire “trial”—
Was just a way to overwrite it.
To replace Snow…
With Celestine.
And inherit whatever she was meant to become.
“…You’re trying to take her,” Riley said.
Not a question.
A statement.
The Frost Queen said nothing.
But her silence was enough.
Then—
Something shifted.
The air.
The space.
Reality itself.
Riley took a step forward—
And his figure glitched.
CRACKLE…!
CRACKLE…!
BZZT!!!
For a split second, his body blurred, distorting like something that didn’t fully belong in this world. Darkness flickered around him in broken fragments, like errors tearing through existence.
[Divine Authority activated]
The space trembled.
[Conceptual Oblivion]
The dungeon core in his hand cracked slightly under the pressure.
[Name: Riley Hell]
[Race: ????]
[Level: ?]
[Strength: ?]
[Agility: ?]
[Endurance: ?]
[Luck: ?]
Everything about him—
Undefined.
Unreadable.
The darkness around him deepened.
Not cold.
Not empty.
Just… absent.
As if anything it touched simply ceased to exist.
Riley lifted his gaze.
And for the first time—
There was no hesitation left in his eyes.
As his divinity surged outward—
The Frost Queen watched.
And smiled.
Not mockingly.
Not arrogantly.
But with quiet interest.
“…So this is what you are,” she murmured.
Like she had just found something worth seeing.
