When one spoke of a dungeon, the common image that ca to mind was an isolated rupture in space itself—
a jagged crack in reality that served as a gateway to a separate, hostile dinsion.
These were known as Crack Dungeons, and they were fundantally different from their other counterparts.
Unlike Plain Dungeons, which naturally ford within the world and followed predictable internal rules, or Bounded Field Dungeons, which were sealed within artificial barriers and strictly regulated, crack dungeons were unstable by nature.
They were wounds in the world.
Unpredictable. Violent.
Most dungeon outbreaks originated from these cracks.
As mana accumulated within the inner domain, pressure would build relentlessly.
When the internal balance collapsed—or when the mana density exceeded what the surrounding space could contain—the dungeon would rupture further, spewing monsters into the outside world like a flood bursting through a dam.
Entire cities had fallen to such events.
Because of that, once a crack dungeon was discovered, it was rarely left unattended.
Knight orders, adventurer guilds, arcane towers, and on rarer occasions even the Church itself would mobilize to subjugate it—sotis for bounties, sotis for resources, and sotis simply to prevent disaster.
Once a dungeon crack stabilized, the surrounding air would warp.
Mana would fizzle, compress, and distort, forming a heavy pressure that clung to the land like an invisible storm.
Depending on the dungeon’s rank, the sheer density of mana near the gate could be enough to force even a fully trained knight to his knees without a single spell being cast.
Breathing beca difficult.
Movent sluggish.
Thoughts heavier.
"We’re getting near."
At Riley’s words, Snow nodded silently.
The journey had felt strangely contradictory—long, yet fleeting.
Ti blurred beneath the constant waves of monsters that rose to block their path.
Creatures of frost and corrupted mana attacked relentlessly, as though drawn to them by instinct alone.
Most were dealt with effortlessly.
Yet occasionally, sothing sturdier would appear.
Frost giants that shook the ground with each step.
Frost drakes that descended from the gray skies in spirals of freezing wind.
Those lasted only monts longer—either encased in absolute ice or cleaved apart before they could retreat.
Now, the air itself felt wrong.
Snow slowed her steps.
In the distance, a massive glow pierced through the blizzard-like haze—an unnatural light that bled pale blue and white into the sky.
The mana there twisted visibly, curling and folding in on itself.
Snow narrowed her eyes.
"...That’s it,"
Riley had already inford her that the dungeon’s estimated rank was SSS.
Even so, Snow hadn’t expected this.
The looming presence ahead felt imnse—oppressive in a way that went beyond numbers or classifications.
She had experienced deep-pressure mana before, places where the air itself seed to press against the skin and crush the lungs, but this was different.
That kind of pressure always felt artificial—like an external force deliberately bearing down on you.
This, however...
This felt natural.
As if the world itself had grown heavier.
Not like soone pushing her shoulders down, but like gravity itself had quietly increased, demanding more effort with every step.
Even her breathing felt denser, each inhale drawing in mana thick enough to almost taste.
"Are you nervous?"
Riley asked, glancing at Snow beside him.
She paused for a mont, considering her own state.
"I can’t say I’m not," she admitted honestly. "But... for so reason, I don’t feel like I’m going to fail."
Riley winced slightly.
"Please don’t raise any flags..."
"Flags?" Snow tilted her head.
"Just... superficial stuff," he waved it off quickly. "Never mind that."
"Hmm..."
Snow studied his reaction for a brief second, curiosity flickering in her eyes, but she let it go. Then, more softly, she added,
"Part of the reason I’m not that nervous is because you’re here with , you know."
Riley felt a faint sense of relief at her words—but it was accompanied by caution.
Trust was comforting.
Complacency was dangerous.
"Even if I’m around," he said calmly, "please don’t act recklessly once you’re inside. I might only be able to guide you at the entrance."
"I won’t," Snow replied without hesitation.
She smiled—gentle, calm, reassuring.
And yet, for reasons Riley couldn’t fully explain, a thin thread of worry settled deep in his chest.
After all, part of the reason Snow was in her current state... was Evelyn.
He didn’t know how far her interference went, nor how much of Snow’s power had been shaped by echoes from another broken world.
What kind of trial awaited her inside the dungeon was still uncertain.
Still...
If it was Evelyn, then at the very least, Riley could trust one thing.
Whatever awaited Snow beyond that gate—it wouldn’t be sothing that would pose major danger to her.
Pondering for a short while longer, Riley finally spoke.
"By the way, Snow... are you sure we shouldn’t have greeted the grand duke first before coming here?" he asked. "We could’ve greeted the count as well, seeing as he’s already on his way back."
Snow slowed her steps slightly.
"Although we already inford Count Roverick," she replied, her tone thoughtful, "the grand duke’s reaction might have differed—even if you’re with , Riley."
She hesitated, then sighed softly.
"I forgot to tell you, but... let’s just say my father, His Majesty the Emperor, didn’t exactly give a favorable response when I explained that we’d be heading north to clear the dungeon."
Riley raised an eyebrow but remained silent, letting her continue.
"And besides," Snow added, "I wanted this dungeon dealt with as quickly as possible. The damage it’s already caused to the northern territories is no longer sothing that can be brushed aside—especially within Count Roverick’s domain."
Riley exhaled quietly.
He had initially thought the grand duke would grant them at least passive approval, given Snow’s presence.
But now that he thought about it, involving him directly would only place restrictions on their movents—formalities, oversight, delays.
Power always ca with conditions.
"Regrettably, though, I’m fairly certain the duke is already aware we’re here." Riley said.
Snow glanced at him.
"How?"
"A master of his level can sense presences from hundreds of kiloters away if he so wishes,"
he said calmly.
"Pinpointing specific mana signatures would be well within his... absurd range of capabilities."
His gaze briefly flickered toward Riley.
"And your mana signature is quite unique. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to notice."
Snow shook her head softly.
"Then he knows."
Snow looked troubled for a mont—but then relaxed slightly.
"Since he hasn’t interfered..." she murmured, "...I guess he’s tacitly allowing us to proceed?"
"I wouldn’t call it permission," Riley replied. "More like he’s choosing to ignore us as much as possible."
He paused, eyes narrowing toward the distant glow of the dungeon.
"He probably realizes we’re not here to play around."
"A small favor, then," Snow said with a faint smile. "Well, no matter the case, this is a win-win for both sides."
They deal with the dungeon directly.
He avoids unnecessary political entanglent.
.....
Inside the icy caverns and frost-laden halls of the frozen castle, silence reigned supre.
At the heart of it all, upon a throne carved from eternal ice, rested a woman of breathtaking beauty.
She wore a pristine white dress layered beneath a matching coat, its fabric flowing like freshly fallen snow.
Her porcelain-white skin shimred faintly under the cold light of the crystalline walls, and when her eyes opened—if only for a brief mont—they glead like countless snowflakes caught in moonlight. Her hair, long and flawless, was as white as winter itself.
One delicate hand rested against her cheek as though she were rely dozing.
Yet the air around her was heavy—oppressive—alive with an authority that needed no declaration.
For an instant, within her half-lidded gaze, a reflection appeared.
A girl.
White hair. Familiar mana. A presence tugging at sothing deep within her frozen soul.
The image flickered—
And vanished.
The Frost Queen.
Unlike the monstrous and grotesque beings that populated her domain, unlike the savage shapes of frost giants, ice drakes, and warped frostborn creatures, she was unmistakably... human in appearance.
And that made her far more terrifying.
A voice broke the silence.
"My queen..."
At her side stood an ice lizardman clad in refined white armor, his posture rigid, his tone neutral yet reverent.
Frost patterns crawled across his scales as he spoke.
"A threat has been detected," he continued. "At the central plains. It is moving directly toward the dungeon."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"As most of our units are currently dispersed, an imdiate and coordinated response to such an anomaly would require authorization. The frost giant chieftain has requested permission to—"
"Leave them be."
The words were soft.
"Yes—Yes, Your Majesty, I shall inform...." the lizardman replied instinctively, already turning to comply—before freezing mid-motion.
"...Leave them be?"
"...Yes," the queen answered again, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying effortlessly through the chamber.
"But Your Majesty," he said cautiously, "as I have reported, these individuals are anomalies. Their mana signatures do not correspond with any known faction or classification. Allowing them to advance unchecked—"
"It is fine."
Her hand shifted slightly against her cheek.
"Send out as many waves as you possibly can," she continued. "Let the monsters engage them freely."
A pause.
"And ensure their focus is on the girl."
The ice lizardman—Las—felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.
"...Understood, Your Majesty," he said at last, bowing deeply.
He did not understand her intent.
He could not.
And yet, obedience was not a choice—it was instinct.
As he exited the audience chamber, the massive frost doors sealing shut behind him, a realization struck him.
He had not specified who the anomalies were.
He had not ntioned their number.
Nor whether they were n or won.
Yet the queen had known.
Perfectly.
Las swallowed, awe and reverence surging within his chest.
The Frost Queen truly is omniscient...
And as that realization settled, his devotion deepened into sothing far stronger than loyalty.
Sothing closer to worship.
Behind him, alone once more upon her frozen throne, the queen’s lips curved ever so slightly—
as the distant pull of her successor drew nearer.
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