Chapter 683: Frost Queen 2

Huff…!

Huff…!

Each breath tore through his lungs like shattered ice.

Frost spilled from his mouth in thick white plumes as the giant ran, his massive frame crashing through the open snowfields carved between two towering northern mountains.

Every step sent tremors through the frozen ground, deep footprints cracking the ice beneath him.

Blood streaked across the snow behind him.

His right arm—gone.

Not severed cleanly, but ripped away in a violent blur he could barely remember.

The stump burned with constant agony, nerves screaming, flesh numb and raw.

Frost clung to the wound, sealing it just enough to keep him alive.

Painful.

But merciful.

“I… must reach the chieftain…” he growled, voice ragged, barely holding together.

His name was Kaltan—a warrior of the frost giants, a veteran of countless battles, one who had faced dragons and rival tribes without ever once knowing fear.

Until now.

Groaagh!

Huaaaghh!!

Monstrous roars thundered behind him.

His subordinates—no, his brothers—were still fighting.

Not to win.

Not even to stop the enemy.

Only to delay them.

Behind him, the frozen horizon burned with chaos. Ice exploded into shards.

Massive bodies fell. Frostborn beasts—creatures that once made entire human armies flee—were being torn apart with terrifying efficiency.

Their forces were vast.

Frost drakes. Ice ogres. Elder beasts birthed from centuries of frozen mana.

And yet…

Their enemies were only two humans.

Two.

They had slaughtered the frontier troops with almost insulting ease, cutting through formations as though they were nothing more than mist.

Kaltan had seen it with his own eyes—had charged himself, pride burning in his chest—

And was punished for it.

Swiiishh—!!

BOOM!

The memory made his steps falter.

Why…?

Why were they losing?

The Frost Queen herself had blessed them.

Their chieftain—the strongest of their race—stood watch over the northern domain.

The frost that empowered them was ancient, absolute.

And yet the moment they engaged—

They couldn’t even comprehend what had happened.

Just—

Erasure.

Kaltan clenched his remaining fist.

Their orders had been clear: stop the intruders.

Do not let them reach the dungeon.

But now, that order meant nothing.

What mattered was warning.

He had to tell them.

If not the queen… then at least the chieftain.

Because Kaltan was different.

Born with Mystic Eyes, a rare mutation even among frost giants—eyes that could glimpse fragments of truth when focused upon existence itself.

And when his gaze had locked onto one of the humans—

Just for an instant—

He had seen it.

Not strength.

Not mana.

But something far worse.

An existence so vast, so distorted, so fundamentally wrong that his vision shattered from trying to comprehend it.

A presence layered with authority, divinity, and something eerily familiar—

Something that did not belong in this world.

His knees had nearly buckled then.

Now, terror drove his steps.

“That thing…” Kaltan whispered hoarsely, frost forming on his lips.

“…is not human.”

Uaghhc…!!!

The moment his mind returned to that human, Kaltan’s vision warped.

Foam bubbled from his mouth as blood poured out between his lips, splattering against the snow in dark, steaming drops.

His massive body staggered forward before finally stopping, knees digging into the frozen ground.

“Ghh…!”

He clenched his remaining left hand and slammed it against his chest, trying to steady the violent backlash tearing through his body—mana spiraling out of control, his Mystic Eyes screaming from what they had witnessed.

But before he could draw another breath—

[MID GRADE: ICE MAGIC]

[FROST LANCE]

SWOOOSHHH—!!!

A shrill cry cut through the air.

A lance of pure ice, dense and razor-sharp, streaked forward trailing bluish-white frost dust like a comet.

It struck from behind with merciless precision, piercing straight through Kaltan’s torso—

—impaling his arm

—driving through his chest

—pinning his left hand in place as it clutched his heart.

Crackle…!

The ice spread instantly.

Frost crawled across his skin like living chains, crystallizing muscle, bone, and blood alike. His veins turned pale blue. His breath froze mid-exhale.

A frostborn.

And yet—

The cold was killing him.

RAAAGHHH!!!

His roar exploded outward, raw and primal, laced with panicked mana.

The ground trembled beneath him, the air itself shuddering as if protesting his impending death.

From behind, calm footsteps approached.

“For a creature that enjoys the tormenting screams of others,”

Snow muttered coolly, her breath misting as she watched him struggle,

“he’s quite loud.”

Riley glanced at the frozen giant with mild interest.

“Well, your magic isn’t exactly the soothing type.”

“I’ve held back quite a bit, you know,” Snow replied, voice steady.

“This amount of pain isn’t even enough for the things these creatures have done.”

She walked closer, boots crunching softly against the ice.

Her white coat fluttered slightly in the cold wind as she stopped before the nearly frozen frost giant.

Her gaze was neutral—neither hateful nor cruel.

Just distant.

“Giant.”

“Ku—GHCK…!”

Kaltan’s jaw trembled as frozen blood cracked along his lips. His eyes burned with fury even as his body failed him.

“H-Human… you dare…!”

Snow raised her wand slightly, eyes sharp.

“Just how many people have you gathered inside your dungeon?”

At her question—

Kaltan laughed.

A broken, hoarse sound bubbling through ice and blood.

“Hah… hahah…”

His breath came out in frozen bursts.

“As if… I’d ever tell you…”

Snow stared at him for a brief moment longer.

Then she exhaled softly.

Snap.

She snapped her fingers.

In an instant, the frost surged.

Kaltan’s entire body froze solid—expression locked in defiant madness—before shattering apart with a sharp, crystalline crash, exploding into fragments of ice and white mist that scattered into the wind.

Silence returned to the snowy field.

Snow lowered her hand, unease flickering briefly across her expression.

“…Their loyalty is uncomfortable,” she murmured.

Riley followed her gaze, eyes narrowing slightly.

Monsters were supposed to be mindless—driven by hunger, instinct, destruction.

But the creatures they had faced so far—

They followed orders.

They held territory.

They protected secrets.

Someone—or something—was commanding them.

…

It happened as they continued their advance toward the dungeon.

The glow in the distance was already visible now—no longer just a presence felt through mana, but a tangible landmark etched into the horizon.

Heading straight toward it should have been the most efficient route.

And yet—

The deeper they moved into the forest and mist-laden white plains, the more wrong everything felt.

The air changed first.

A foul stench crept into their lungs—thick, coppery, and rotten.

Blood.

Old blood, frozen blood, blood that had soaked into the snow and refused to fade.

Snow slowed her steps.

Bones littered the ground, half-buried beneath frost.

Some were shattered, others unnaturally clean, stripped of flesh with methodical precision.

Here and there lay frozen remains—twisted shapes that had once been people, their final expressions locked in terror beneath layers of ice.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

Heavy chains lay scattered across the snow, some snapped, others still locked in place.

Massive iron cages—bent, torn open, or dragged away—stood abandoned like monuments to despair.

And cutting through everything were enormous footprints, deeply pressed into the earth and now half-covered by fresh snowfall.

They weren’t random.

They formed paths.

Routes.

Snow’s voice broke the silence, low and tense.

“Riley… I think there’s more to this dungeon than we expected.”

“Yeah.”

Riley nodded slowly, his expression darkening.

Even in the game, this region had been brutal—but not like this.

He remembered monsters that hunted humans, monsters that captured them briefly before devouring them later.

Crude ropes.

Temporary holding areas. Brutish efficiency.

But this—

This was systematic.

Cages.

Chains.

Transport routes.

“They’re not just hunting,” Riley muttered.

“They’re collecting.”

And lingering in the air was something else.

A trace of magic—thin, almost faded, but unmistakable. It brushed against his senses in a way that made his brow furrow.

Familiar…

“That frost giant earlier clearly held a high rank among them,” Riley continued.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t get any information out of him.”

Snow didn’t respond right away.

Her eyes lingered on a shattered cage, fingers tightening slightly around her wand.

The situation was becoming more complicated by the minute.

Riley exhaled quietly.

He could force answers—rip truth directly from the source with his divinity if he chose.

But he didn’t.

Drawing attention now could invite her.

Erebil was bound by her promise, yes—but gods and goddesses were masters of loopholes.

He had no intention of giving her even the smallest excuse to interfere.

He was confident.

Together, he and Snow could clear this dungeon by force if it came to that.

But—

Just in case.

Riley slipped a hand into his pocket and brushed his fingers against a small red card etched with a single cat-like eye at its center.

A contingency.

Snow’s safety came first.

He sent a faint pulse of mana into it.

For the briefest moment, the eye glowed crimson—then faded.

Snow didn’t notice.

She was already moving forward again.

Riley followed, closing the distance between them as instinctively as breathing.

Side by side, they pressed on, steps careful, senses sharp.

Around them, the snow grew heavier with the evidence of death.

’I just hope nothing unexpected happens again….’

…..

In the throne room of the frozen castle—

The Frost Queen lightly smiled.

It was a subtle thing, almost imperceptible, yet the moment it appeared her white, crystalline eyes shimmered faintly, as though the snow itself had stirred in response.

“…How interesting.”

Her voice echoed softly through the vast hall, carried by frost-laced mana that pulsed gently with her breath.

“It seems an unnatural being has stepped into my domain.”

She rested her chin against her hand, porcelain fingers unmoving, posture elegant and relaxed—yet the air around her subtly thickened.

“And yet…”

“He harbors no intent toward me… nor toward my castle.”

Her gaze drifted beyond the frozen walls, piercing distance, terrain, and layers of reality itself.

“How curious…”

For thousands of years she had remained bound to this place.

A sovereign of ice, entombed within her own dominion.

Through her mystic eyes of clairvoyance, she had watched the outside world rise and fall—kingdoms turning to dust, heroes becoming legends, demons changing names and faces.

She had seen the birth of religions, the decay of gods, and the quiet extinction of entire races.

Very little surprised her anymore.

Yet—

This one does.

The young man walking beside her future heir was unlike anything she had ever witnessed.

He possessed divinity.

That much was undeniable.

But it was not the polished radiance of a god, nor the stolen fragments carried by false saints and blessed champions.

His divinity was warped—layered, restrained, folded inward upon itself like a blade hidden in silk.

It felt… wrong.

Not dangerous in the immediate sense—

And yet—

Dangerous in every other way.

“…Fascinating.”

Her curiosity, long dormant, quietly bloomed—second only to the interest she held for her successor.

A soft smile curved her lips further as she murmured words meant only for herself, her voice sinking into the ice-laced silence of the hall.

“Tell me, unnatural one… what are you, really?”

Beside her, the ice lizardman attendant stiffened.

He had been mid-report.

“…A-And as for the outer patrols the intruding humans have—”

“M-My queen?”

There was no response.

Her attention was no longer on him, nor on the reports he had painstakingly gathered….

…

Meanwhile, in the realm of red and white—

A figure smiled.

Gray smoke curled lazily around a floating silhouette as a hand slipped into a pocket that should not have existed, pulling free a familiar card marked with slit, catlike eyes.

The card pulsed faintly, crimson light seeping through its edges.

Cheshire smirked.

“Oh my~”

His tail swayed idly as amusement sparkled in his mismatched eyes.

“This is new.”

With all his intent, arrogance, and theatrical glory, Cheshire couldn’t help but feel genuinely intrigued.

After all, this was the first time Riley had ever deliberately called upon him—not through chance, not through consequence, but by choice.

The smile on his face widened.

“Now~ now~ whatever could the dear lover of my master possibly ask of my humble service~?”

His voice echoed with playful elegance, every syllable steeped in mischief and mockery as reality itself parted before him.

A red portal bloomed open—just large enough for his head to slip through.

The moment he peeked out—

Cold.

An overwhelming, biting cold assaulted his senses, sharp enough that even a being like him felt it seep beneath his skin.

“…Brr.”

His ears twitched.

“Is this the north?”

The portal hovered high above the skies, granting him an aerial view of endless white plains, jagged mountain ranges, frozen forests, and mana so dense it distorted the air itself.

The land below felt wrong—heavy, saturated with a foreign will that had long since claimed dominion over the region.

Cheshire’s eyes darted around eagerly.

“Now where is he~?”

A second passed.

Then—

“Ah~ found you~”

Far below, two figures moved through the snow—one unmistakably familiar.

Riley.

Cheshire chuckled softly.

He could open the portal right next to him.

After all, Riley had his card.

A single thought would let him appear at his side instantly.

But—

Where was the fun in that?

He tilted his head, contemplating whether to drop in dramatically, whisper ominously, or perhaps descend upside-down from the sky just to see Riley’s reaction.

“Mmm… maybe I should at least announce myself first~”

He was just about to act—

When suddenly—

His entire body jerked.

Every strand of fur stood on end.

“…What?”

The playful grin vanished.

In its place came sharp alertness, pupils narrowing to slits as instinct screamed louder than reason ever could.

Without hesitation, Cheshire wrapped himself in thick crimson energy, the red glow folding inward as gray fog swallowed him whole.

His presence dimmed, slipping between layers of reality like a secret never meant to be found.

Even hidden—

He could feel it.

“…Tch.”

Cheshire’s voice dropped to a rare whisper.

“Why is she watching?”

A dragon was staring at the entire north.

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