How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 715: Frost Queen.

Chapter 715: Frost Queen.

“T-They’re advancing!”

“Hold the gates!”

“Mages, prioritize defense! Knights, form a line—we need to hold them back!”

“There’s too many of them—we won’t be able to hold out!”

“One of them is breaking through—!”

The city had descended into chaos.

Shouts overlapped, commands clashed, and fear spread faster than the cold itself.

What was once the last safe haven in the northern lands had now become a battlefield, its walls trembling under the relentless assault of the Frost Giants.

Their attack had changed.

No longer were they simply hurling massive chunks of ice from a distance, testing the city’s defenses.

Now, they had closed the gap, abandoning patience entirely in favor of raw, overwhelming force. Towering figures crashed against the barriers, their sheer strength shaking the foundations of the city with every strike.

At the forefront of the assault—

Gallan.

The chieftain moved like a force of nature, leading the charge as he tore through the remaining vanguard knights who had dared to meet them outside the walls.

Those who stood their ground were crushed, scattered, or forced back, their formations breaking under the pressure.

And now—

They were inside.

Or close enough that it made no difference.

The protective barriers that once held firm were beginning to crack, flickering under the strain as the giants pushed forward without pause.

Every impact brought them closer to collapse.

From atop the inner walls, Count Roverick watched it all unfold, his expression darkening.

This was exactly what he had feared.

From the very beginning, the situation in the north had never been favorable, but now it had reached a point where even hope felt fragile.

Supplies were running low, reinforcements were nowhere in sight, and his troops—

They were tired.

The recent waves of monster raids had already pushed them to their limits, leaving both their bodies and morale barely holding together.

And now, faced with something like this…

Something bigger.

Something unstoppable.

Even the bravest among them began to falter.

Because this—

This was a reminder.

Of what monsters truly were.

Not just creatures to be hunted.

But forces that could wipe them out entirely.

Roverick’s hand tightened against the cold stone of the wall as another section of the barrier cracked in the distance, the sound echoing like a warning.

“…Damn it…”

Time was running out.

And he knew it.

Roverick had prepared for war.

He had gathered what strength he could—seasoned knights, veteran mercenaries, and even several swordmasters whose names alone carried weight across the northern lands.

But even they—

Couldn’t stand against this.

The Frost Giants were on a different level entirely.

Their sheer size alone made them overwhelming, but it was their raw strength that truly made them terrifying.

Each swing of their limbs carried force comparable to dragons, and their bodies—thick, ancient, hardened by nature itself—were resistant to most forms of magic.

Even his highest-ranking mages—

Were struggling to make a difference.

Spells that would normally devastate entire battlefields barely slowed them down, shattering harmlessly against layers of frost-hardened skin.

It was a losing fight.

And Roverick knew it.

With heavy steps, he turned away from the walls, his jaw tightening as he made his way toward a nearby tower overlooking the battlefield.

The sounds of battle followed him—roars, screams, the clash of steel—but he didn’t slow down.

There was still one option left.

“Grand Duke!”

His voice carried as he reached the top.

The man standing there didn’t turn immediately.

“…Count.”

Grand Duke Luther Heavens.

Even from behind, his presence was unmistakable—calm, composed, untouched by the chaos unfolding below.

He stood at the edge of the tower, his gaze fixed on the battlefield as if he were merely observing a distant storm.

Roverick’s frown deepened.

“What are you doing?”

The Duke tilted his head slightly, as if the question itself puzzled him.

“What do you mean, Count?”

Roverick clenched his fists.

“Can you not see what’s happening?” His voice rose, frustration bleeding through despite himself. “Everyone is out there fighting. They need your help.”

There was no attempt to hide the edge in his tone.

No restraint left.

Because the truth was obvious.

The Grand Duke was the strongest person in the north—arguably one of the strongest in the entire continent. His presence alone could turn the tide of this battle, and yet…

He hadn’t moved.

Not once.

While the city guards bled.

While knights threw themselves into hopeless fights just to buy a few more seconds.

While mercenaries—men paid in coin, not loyalty—stood their ground and died anyway.

Even his own order—

The Heaven’s Knights—

Remained still, stationed behind him, unmoving as statues, following their lord’s silence without question.

It made no sense.

“Were you not sent here by His Majesty to help us?” Roverick demanded, stepping closer, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

He knew he was crossing a line.

Speaking like this to someone of the Grand Duke’s status was reckless—borderline suicidal under normal circumstances.

But none of that mattered now.

Not when the city was on the verge of collapse.

Not when his people were dying.

“My people are dying,” he said, his voice tightening, “and they need your help!”

For a moment—

The only sound between them was the distant roar of battle.

The Grand Duke listened.

Or at least—

It seemed like he did.

But his expression didn’t change.

Didn’t shift.

It was as if Roverick’s words barely reached him.

Slowly, Luther’s gaze drifted past the battlefield, beyond the chaos, settling somewhere far in the distance.

Focused on something else entirely.

Something only he could see.

Seeing that distant, almost detached look in the Grand Duke’s eyes, something inside Roverick finally snapped.

“Grand Duke—”

He stepped forward, ready to press him further, to demand an answer—

BOOOOM—!!!

The words never came.

The explosion shook the entire tower, the force of it nearly throwing him off balance. Instinctively, he turned—

And what he saw made his chest tighten.

A massive chunk of condensed ice had torn through the city walls.

Not chipped.

Not cracked.

Pierced.

It carved a path straight through stone and steel alike, crushing everything in its way—soldiers, barricades, defenses—reduced to nothing in an instant.

Screams followed in its wake, raw and desperate, as knights and soldiers alike were thrown aside like debris.

“—Aaaghh!!”

“Medic! Someone—!”

“My leg—!”

The once-organized defense had collapsed into chaos.

And then—

“KILL THEM ALL!!!”

The voice of the giants thundered across the battlefield, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

One after another, their massive forms crossed the broken walls, stepping into the city itself.

Each step felt like a hammer striking the earth, each movement bringing them deeper into what little remained of Roverick’s domain.

His knights rushed to meet them.

His mages cast whatever spells they had left.

But it wasn’t a battle anymore.

It was survival.

Roverick’s breath caught as he watched it unfold, his hands trembling slightly before tightening into fists.

He turned back toward the Grand Duke, desperation now clear in his eyes—

But nothing had changed.

Luther still stood there.

Still watching.

Still unmoving.

As if none of this concerned him.

“…You…”

Roverick’s jaw clenched, frustration boiling over into something sharper, something bitter.

“…Damn you.”

There was no point anymore.

No point in asking.

No point in hoping.

If the Grand Duke had chosen to remain as he was—to stand there and do nothing until the very end—then there was nothing Roverick could do to change that.

Slowly, he turned away.

Each step felt heavier than the last as he walked toward the stairs, the sounds of destruction growing louder with every passing second.

He couldn’t rely on him.

Not anymore.

’I can’t…’

His thoughts wavered, bitterness mixing with regret.

’Where did I go wrong?’

He had done everything he could.

Prepared for the worst.

Gathered forces.

Swallowed his pride and asked for aid, even when it meant lowering himself before those who looked down on the north.

He had taken in refugees, protected the displaced, tried to hold together what little remained of the region as everything around it fell apart.

The empire knew.

They had to know.

How could they not?

That was why the Grand Duke had been sent here.

Or at least—

That’s what Roverick had believed.

But now, watching his city crumble, hearing the screams of his people echo through the streets—

That belief felt hollow.

Like a mistake.

And for the first time since this all began—

Roverick wasn’t sure if anyone was coming to save them at all.

“Tsk…”

The sound slipped through his teeth as Roverick stepped forward, the hesitation in his movements gone.

He was old.

His body carried the weight of countless battles, his strength no longer what it once was.

Time had dulled his edge, slowed his movements, and worn him down in ways no enemy ever could.

But even so—

An old tiger was still a tiger.

His gaze hardened as he drew in a breath, then raised his voice, letting it carry across the battlefield.