How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 711: Inheritance 4

Lately... as the years passed, Elea began to notice it.

The changes in Celestine.

At first, it was simple things.

Her height, her posture... the way her features slowly grew sharper, more refined. What was once a small, fragile child had become someone undeniably beautiful.

But that wasn’t what unsettled her.

It was everything else.

The quiet changes.

The ones you only notice when you’ve been watching from the very beginning.

Celestine had grown.

Not just in body—but in mind... and in heart.

They weren’t bound by blood.

But that had long since stopped mattering.

Somewhere along the way, that line had disappeared.

What remained was simple.

Mother and daughter.

And to Elea... Celestine was—

”...too kind.”

A faint whisper left her lips.

Because that was the problem.

Celestine accepted everything.

With a smile.

No matter what it was... no matter how heavy... she would take it, hold it, and smile like it didn’t hurt.

That was the kind of daughter she had.

Precious.

Gentle.

Far too good for the world she had been placed into.

Although there was a time she had confronted her about everything.... Once again Elea failed to answer.

And as the years went by—

As question after question was met with delay... with half-answers... with silence—

The weight inside Elea only grew heavier.

Guilt.

It settled deep in her chest, refusing to leave.

Sometimes...

Even lying felt unbearable.

Looking into those clear white eyes... ones that trusted her without doubt...

”...it’s getting harder.”

Hiding the truth.

Pretending everything was fine.

Acting like there was still time.

She already knew—

She couldn’t keep this up forever.

What was coming... couldn’t be denied.

Couldn’t be avoided.

And deep down—

She had already made her choice.

From the very moment she first held Celestine in her arms...

Elea had decided.

Even if the future waiting ahead was nothing but cold...

Nothing but death—

Then she would make sure her daughter could walk that path.

Not break.

Not freeze.

But endure it.

”...even if she hates me for it.”

Her eyes slowly closed.

And without another word, she turned away.

Across the room, near the window, Celestine stood with Anica. The soft light of the outside filtered in, casting a quiet warmth over them.

A peaceful scene.

One Elea could no longer bring herself to look at.

So she didn’t.

Instead—

Her consciousness sank inward.

Deep.

Past thought.

Past emotion.

Into the very core of her being.

The world around her shifted.

Faded.

Until—

She stood within the essence of her own soul.

A vast, silent space.

Cold.

Endless.

And at its center—

A bluish-white orb floated in place.

Pulsing.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Like a frozen heart that refused to stop beating.

Around it—

Chains.

Dark.

Heavy.

They coiled and wrapped around the orb, binding it, restraining it... yet never fully sealing it away.

Power leaked through the gaps.

Cold enough to freeze everything it touched.

This—

Was her authority.

Her power.

The very thing that defined her existence.

The Witch of Frost.

Elea stared at it in silence.

For a long moment—

She didn’t move.

Then, quietly—

”...It’s almost time.”

The orb pulsed once more.

Stronger this time.

As if it heard her.

This orb was all that remained.

The last fragments of her mana circles, crushed, refined, and forced into a single existence.

One core.

One ”heart.”

An orb of power so dense, so unnaturally pure, that even space itself bent slightly around it. The air warped. Light twisted. Just looking at it for too long made it feel like your senses were being pulled inward.

At a glance...

It almost resembled a dungeon core.

And in truth—

It wasn’t that far off.

Because something like this... wasn’t natural.

To condense one’s mana circles—one’s very foundation—into a single point...

That wasn’t a technique.

It was a gamble with death.

No—

It was stepping into it willingly.

Only those who walked twisted paths dared attempt it. Dark magicians. Demonic worshippers. People who abandoned the natural order just to gain power faster... stronger... at any cost.

They used methods like this to create dungeons.

Artificial ones.

”...And yet...”

Elea stood before it.

Alive.

Barely.

Behind her, towering in silence, stood a massive white castle—crafted entirely from ice. Every wall, every pillar, every detail carved with precision.

Cold.

Beautiful.

Empty.

A reflection of the world she had built for herself.

And for her daughter.

”...22 years...”

She whispered it under her breath.

That was how long it had been.

Since Celestine came into her life.

Since everything changed.

Her gaze softened, just slightly.

”...I’ve taken too much time.”

There were things she could’ve done differently.

Things she could’ve said.

Truths she could’ve revealed sooner.

But she didn’t.

She chose silence.

She chose control.

And in doing so—

She chose this ending.

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.

”...I really am selfish.”

She knew it.

Better than anyone.

Locking Celestine away in this remote northern village... keeping her hidden from the world...

Even if it was for her safety—

It didn’t change what it was.

A cage.

And if, somewhere deep inside, Celestine had come to resent her for it—

”...then so be it.”

Elea closed her eyes for a brief moment.

She would accept it.

All of it.

The anger.

The hatred.

The disappointment.

Because this—

This was the only way.

The only way she could protect her.

The only way she could make sure Celestine would survive what was coming.

Her eyes opened again, returning to the orb.

”It’s time...”

Her voice was quiet now.

Steady.

”It’s time for you to inherit it, Celestine...”

The moment the words left her lips—

Something in her body gave.

Her vision flickered.

Her breathing faltered—

And a thin line of blood slipped from her nose.

”...hn...”

She didn’t react much.

Just lifted a cloth and wiped it away, quick and practiced, as if it had already happened more times than she could count.

.....

As soon as the giants began their bombardment on the northeastern walls of Count Roverick’s territory—

Everything fell into chaos.

”BOOOOMMM—!”

”VOOOOSHHH—!!!”

The sky itself seemed to roar.

Massive chunks of ice—each one as large as a house—came crashing down like frozen meteors. They tore through the air with terrifying speed before slamming into the city’s defenses, shaking the very ground beneath every step.

Each impact sent shockwaves through the streets.

Walls trembled.

Windows shattered.

People screamed.

It didn’t take long for panic to spread.

Even the air felt colder.

Heavier.

Like death was slowly closing in.

Still—

The knights and mages of the count’s army held their ground.

”Hold formation!”

”Reinforce the barrier!”

Layers of magic shimmered across the walls, glowing under the constant assault. Skilled mages stood in formation, pouring mana into defensive spells—thick barriers that barely held against the relentless rain of ice.

Some knights and ranged units managed to strike back.

Small counterattacks—fire spells, arrows, bursts of mana—shot toward the distant figures of the Frost Giants.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

The giants stood far beyond the walls, their massive forms barely visible through the storm they themselves created. And yet, every throw they made carried overwhelming force.

Stepping outside the walls—

That was suicide.

But staying inside?

”...This’ll turn into a battle of endurance...”

And one they might not win.

Because this wasn’t a normal situation.

Not even close.

A single Frost Giant was enough to threaten an entire territory.

And now—

There were multiple.

”M-My lord!”

A knight rshed forward, dropping to one knee, breath unsteady.

Count Roverick stood firm despite the tremors around him, his expression tight but controlled.

”Status on the situation.”

”Ah—r-right!” The knight swallowed. ”As you can see, we’re still maintaining our defensive positions, but—if this continues... even our high-ranking mages won’t be able to keep casting barrier magic repeatedly.”

Their mana had limits.

And the giants...

Didn’t seem to be slowing down.

”...I see.”

The count’s gaze shifted briefly toward the northeastern wall, watching another massive chunk of ice crash against the barrier.

The light flickered.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

”...Maintain your command at the western gate.”

”My lord?”

”These giants are not mindless beasts,” Roverick said calmly. ”They’re intelligent. They fight with a sense of honor... or so it’s said.”

Another distant impact echoed.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

”...But I won’t rely on that.”

There was a pause.

”Be prepared.”

The knight straightened immediately.

”Y-Yes, my lord!”

”They might try something else. A flank. A diversion. Even something underhanded.”

That was the worst part.

Not knowing.

”Don’t let your guard down—not even for a moment.”

”Yes!”

Without hesitation, the knight bowed and rushed off toward the western side of the city.

Roverick turned, his gaze shifting from the trembling walls to the figure stationed at the northern gate.

The Grand Duke.

Standing there, unmoving.

Firm.

Like the storm itself couldn’t touch him.

Roverick’s expression tightened slightly.

Of course he did.

The only reason the Frost Giants hadn’t gone all out yet... was because he was here.

A man like that wasn’t something you ignored on the battlefield.

Just his presence alone was enough to make even monsters hesitate.

”...But this...”

Roverick’s eyes flicked back toward the sky as another massive block of ice came crashing down.

A battle of attrition.

That wasn’t good either.

Not for them.

Not for anyone inside these walls.

Time wasn’t on their side.

And yet—

The Grand Duke hadn’t moved.

Since their first meeting earlier, he hadn’t said much. Just a few words... enough to establish that he would ensure the city’s safety.

Nothing more.

No strategy.

No direct command.

Just—

Waiting.

”....”

Roverick couldn’t help it.

A small doubt crept in.

Watching the strongest man present... do nothing—

It left a bad taste.

Even the Duke’s personal knight order—

The Heavenly Knights—

Remained still.

Not a single one stepped forward.

It was as if they were all waiting for something.

Or someone.

.....

Meanwhile—

Grand Duke Luther Heavens stood at the northern gate, his gaze fixed far beyond the battlefield.

Past the falling ice.

Past the distant giants.

Locked onto something deeper.

”....”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

The Giant Chief.

Even from this distance, Luther could feel it.

That presence.

That weight.

Whatever power the creature had hidden beneath its surface—

It wasn’t simple.

Not at all.

Most wouldn’t notice it.

Most couldn’t.

But he could.

He saw through it.

Every layer.

Every attempt to conceal it.

”...He’ll be troublesome.”

The words left him quietly, more observation than concern.

Then—

A presence appeared beside him.

Silent.

Sudden.

A man clad entirely in black robes, his form almost blending into the shadows themselves.

One of the Shadow Knights.

Agents lent directly by the Emperor.

He knelt without a sound.

”We have confirmed traces of Lord Riley... and the princess, Your Grace.”

Luther didn’t look at him.

”Location?”

”...Deep within the forest.”

A slight pause.

”However, we are uncertain where the two have gone beyond that point.”

”...I see.”

For a moment, the wind howled louder, carrying the distant echoes of impact and destruction.

Luther remained still.

Thinking.

Then—

”Well, for now...”

His gaze returned to the battlefield.

”...continue monitoring the enemy camp.”

The Shadow Knight lowered his head further.

”Understood.”