How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 717: Frost Queen... 3

Silence spread across the battlefield.

Not because the fighting had ended—

But because it had been stopped.

Every gaze turned toward the center.

Step... step...

The sound was soft, almost too soft to belong in a place filled with destruction, yet it carried clearly through the frozen air.

Each step echoed across the ground, deliberate and unhurried, as the figure within the drifting frost began to take shape.

The mist parted slowly.

And with it—

The pressure deepened.

It wasn’t just cold.

It was something heavier.

Something absolute.

The kind of presence that didn’t need to announce itself, because everything around it already understood.

No one moved.

Not the knights.

Not the mages.

Not even the Frost Giants.

Their bodies had gone rigid, locked in place by something instinctive, something far older than reason.

It wasn’t fear in the usual sense—it was closer to recognition, like prey realizing, far too late, that a predator had already stepped into its domain.

Even the air felt still.

Waiting.

Then—

White strands drifted gently through the frost-laced wind.

Hair.

Silken, pale, swaying softly as the figure stepped forward into clearer view.

Her eyes followed.

Cold blue—

Deep.

Endless.

And within them, a faint shimmer of winter white, like light reflecting off an eternal snowfield.

There was no overwhelming motion, no dramatic display of power—

And yet, everything about her felt beyond reach.

A beauty untouched.

A presence refined to such a degree that it created distance on its own.

The difference between beings—

Was undeniable.

It wasn’t something that needed to be spoken.

It was simply... understood.

Like standing before something that existed on a higher plane entirely.

For a moment, no one dared to speak.

Then—

"...Princess Snow?"

The voice came out uncertain.

Almost disbelieving.

From the other side—

"...Your Majesty...?"

Gallan’s voice followed, far quieter than before.

For the first time, there was something off in it.

His massive frame—once unshaken, dominant—trembled ever so slightly, his instincts reacting faster than his thoughts could catch up.

Because he recognized her.

Or rather—

What she had become.

At the same time, Roverick’s body dropped.

The ice that had held him in place shattered and released him without resistance, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his already weakened body barely managing to endure the impact.

He didn’t rise immediately.

Couldn’t.

But his eyes—

They lifted.

Slowly.

Struggling.

Until they found her.

And in that moment—

Even through the blood, the pain, the fading strength—

He understood.

Something had changed.

Completely.

Snow’s eyes moved over the battlefield, slow and quiet, taking everything in—the bodies, the broken ground, the way the air itself felt wrong.

Then her gaze settled on Gallan... and Roverick.

Then—

She was there.

No sound.

No warning.

One moment she was across the field, the next she stood beside them, the frost in the air tightening around her presence.

"It seems I may have failed my end of the promise, Count..."

Roverick forced his head up. His vision swam, but he could still make her out—Snow, standing over him, her expression calm in a way that didn’t match the chaos around them.

"P-Princess... you’re here... w-why?"

He already knew she had gone north. Everyone did. She had been the one to take responsibility for the dungeon—the same one that had been tearing through their forces. That should’ve been the end of it.

But those giants... they came from the same direction.

In his current state, his thoughts refused to line up. If she was here... then what happened there?

For a second, something cold gripped his chest—not fear for himself, but for what it meant.

Snow looked at him, and for just a moment, her gaze softened.

"You seem to have a lot of questions," she said quietly. "But that’s not important right now."

She knelt slightly, just enough to meet his eyes without making him strain.

"Rest, Count. I’ll take care of the rest. You’ve done enough."

"Y-Your Highness... they’re dangerous... you mustn—"

"Don’t worry."

She cut him off gently, but there was something firm underneath it—something that didn’t leave room for argument.

"I only intend to keep my end of the deal..."

A faint pause.

"...and make up for a small mistake."

Her eyes settled on Gallan.

The moment they did, the Frost Giant chieftain felt it—something cold crawl up his spine, heavier than any blizzard he had ever stood in.

His breath caught, his body locking before he even understood why.

"You—You are not her Majesty!"

For a split second, his vision betrayed him.

What stood before him wasn’t just the girl.

It overlapped—blurred—until he saw her.

The Frost Queen.

That same overwhelming presence, that same quiet, absolute authority that didn’t need to be spoken.

It pressed down on him, familiar in a way that made his instincts scream.

But it wasn’t her.

Gallan’s eyes sharpened as he forced himself to look again, properly this time.

The shape, the features, the faint traces of humanity beneath it all—this wasn’t the Queen.

It was the human.

The one she had taken interest in.

The one she had chosen.

His thoughts stuttered.

Back then, he hadn’t been told everything.

The Queen never explained herself.

But he had heard enough—seen enough—to understand one thing.

That human had been a candidate.

A vessel meant to undergo her trial.

’...Don’t tell me...’

His grip tightened.

’She inherited it?’

It didn’t make sense.

It couldn’t.

A human... carrying that power?

Holding even a fraction of the Queen’s authority?

It went against everything he knew. Everything that should have been possible.

And yet—

His body refused to move.

That alone was answer enough.

Gallan’s expression hardened, but the tension in him didn’t fade. If anything, it only grew worse.

Because whether she was the Queen or not... didn’t change what stood in front of him.

They had betrayed her.

"EVERYONE—DISPERSE!!!"

His voice tore through the battlefield, loud enough to shake the air itself. Every giant below heard it.

"Fall back! Leave the city!"

There was no hesitation in the order. No pride left to protect.

Survival came first.

Even if she was human... she carried the Frost Queen’s authority.

And that made her something far worse.

Right now, everything had fallen apart.

The plan... was finished.

His vision—of taking the northern lands, of carving out a future where the Frost Giants would never have to bow again—gone in an instant.

Useless.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

As long as even one of them made it out—

as long as his kin lived—

Then his dream could rot where it stood.

Gallan’s hands tightened, veins rising beneath pale blue skin as frost gathered around his grip. The air snapped, condensed—

And a massive battle axe of ice formed in his hands.

Without hesitation, he raised it high... and brought it down.

SWOOOOSHHH—!!!

The swing tore through the air, heavy enough to split the ground itself.

To anyone watching, it was absurd—overkill.

Snow looked small beneath him, barely more than a speck compared to his towering frame.

But Gallan didn’t hesitate.

Because he knew.

Size meant nothing.

Crackle—

BOOOOM!!!

The impact shook the battlefield. The ground fractured outward in jagged lines, spreading like a web beneath her feet.

And yet—

"Tsk."

Gallan clicked his tongue.

His axe had stopped.

Not against a weapon.

Not against a shield.

But a single finger.

Snow stood there, unmoving, her hand raised just slightly—one finger pressed against the edge of his axe, holding it in place like it weighed nothing.

The cracks beneath her spread, deep and violent.

But she didn’t budge.

"It seems you’re someone with good judgment, Chieftain of the Frost Giants..." she said quietly. "So why make a decision like this? One driven by nothing but yourself?"

Gallan stared at her for a moment—

Then laughed.

A rough, bitter sound.

"You wouldn’t understand."

His grip tightened on the axe.

"Our Queen didn’t... and neither do you, you cursed human!"

Snow didn’t react.

No anger. No offense.

Just silence.

Her gaze shifted past him, watching as the remaining giants and monsters fled the city, scattering in every direction.

She followed them for a moment... then looked back at him.

"It seems you’ve already decided how this ends."

"Gah—!"

He bared his teeth, breath fogging the air.

"If holding you here for even a second is enough for them to escape... then I’ll gladly die for it."

"I see..."

Gallan already knew how this would end.

If she truly held the Frost Queen’s power... then this was never a fight to begin with.

There was nothing in his arsenal that could touch her. No weapon. No technique. Not even his own strength—something he had relied on his entire life—meant anything in front of her now.

Which meant—

This wasn’t about winning.

It was about time.

If he could hold her here... even for a few seconds longer... that would be enough.

His jaw tightened.

If the authority over frost no longer belonged to him—

Then he would rely on what did.

His blood. His body. His inheritance as a giant.

"RAAAAHHH!!!"

His roar shook the air as ice surged around his arms, forming massive gauntlets that wrapped tight over his fists.

Frost crawled up to his shoulders, thick and jagged, feeding off the last of his strength.

He stepped forward.

His eyes locked onto her.

That same calm. That same distant, almost uncaring gaze.

It didn’t waver.

Didn’t even acknowledge him as a threat.

Something in him snapped.

His mana flared.

It surged outward, wild and violent—so dense it became visible, warping the space around him.

The ground beneath his feet cracked under the pressure, the air trembling like it was about to break.

He pulled his arm back—

And threw everything he had into a single punch.

but then—

Crackle...

[Low Level – Ice Magic]

[Frost Creation]

Voom—!

It happened in an instant.

No struggle.

No resistance.

The frost didn’t spread—

It was already there.

Gallan’s body froze solid where he stood. Ice wrapped around him completely, swallowing his form whole.

Even his raging mana—mid-eruption—stilled, locked in place like it had been caught in time.

Silence fell.

Then—

Crack...!

A thin line split across the frozen surface.

Another.

And another.

His body began to break apart, piece by piece, fragments falling away as they dissolved into pale mist before they even touched the ground.

In the span of a breath, the Frost Giant Chieftain... ceased to exist.

Snow stood there, unmoving.

For a moment, her gaze lingered where he had been.

"...This much, at least."

A quiet murmur.

The only mercy she could offer to someone who had once stood beneath the same Queen she now carried.

Then she looked up.

Toward the distant horizon—where the fleeing figures had scattered.

"I’ll leave the strays to you, Anica..."

For a second, there was nothing.

Then—

ROOOAAARRRR!!!

A roar split the sky.

Deep. Vast. Ancient.

A dragon’s voice echoed from above.

....

A few hundred meters away from the city—

Far enough to be safe, but close enough to see everything—

A young man sat on a slow-drifting puff of gray cloud.

Riley didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

For once, the usual calm, distant look on his face cracked—just a little.

"...Wow."

It slipped out under his breath

He hadn’t expected that.

Not really.

He knew Snow was strong. He knew what she had just inherited wasn’t something small. But even then... power like that usually came with a cost. Instability. A lack of control. Something.

He had thought she’d struggle, at least a little.

But what he just saw—

That wasn’t struggling.

That was absolute.

His eyes stayed on the battlefield for a moment longer before he slowly turned his head.

Beside him floated a familiar figure—a disembodied cat head, its fur slightly bristled, its usual grin nowhere to be seen.

For once, Cheshire looked... shaken.

"Don’t you think you made her a bit too overpowered!?"

Riley let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back slightly against nothing at all.

"It’s a good thing, isn’t it?"

There was no concern in his voice.

Only quiet satisfaction.

A hint of pride he didn’t bother hiding.

—

Meanwhile—

Far from them, high above the fleeing giants—

Anica moved like a storm.

Her massive wings cut through the air, her claws and fangs tearing through anything that tried to escape. One by one, the giants fell—no chance to regroup, no chance to fight back.

A swipe—

A tear—

A body dropped.

Another followed.

She didn’t slow down.

Couldn’t.

Because something else was there.

Watching.

Listening.

Borrowing her eyes.

Anica’s body shuddered mid-flight, her movements faltering for just a fraction of a second as a voice echoed softly in her mind.

[It seems my darling did something a bit unnecessary~ ...hnn... how troublesome~]

The tone was light.

Playful.

Almost amused

But

Anica felt it.

That thin layer beneath it.

Cold.

Sharp.

Angry.

Her instincts screamed.

[To look at her like that... so openly... so proudly~]

The voice continued, softer now—almost like a whisper curling around her thoughts.

He’s never looked at me that way before...

Anica’s breath hitched.

Her wings beat harder, almost out of instinct as she tore through another fleeing giant, ripping it apart just to ground herself.

[But... since we’re sisters now... I suppose I can let it slide~]

"...!"

Anica didn’t understand.

Not the words. Not the meaning behind them.

Only the feeling.

That something was very, very wrong.

She swung her claw again, cleanly severing another giant’s head. The body dropped, lifeless, disappearing into the snow below.

Her chest tightened.

Please...

The thought came out silent. Small. Desperate.

Just leave...

She didn’t know what she was praying to.

Only that she wanted that presence—

that thing inside her—

Gone.