Game Over Not Over for Me novel Chapter 80

**TITLE: She Bloomed Like Spring After Surviving a Winter No One Saw by Lillian Rosewood**

**Chapter 80: Order of Frost**

It was as if Alden had activated a hidden power within himself. He dove headfirst into the chaos, racking up HP like a seasoned warrior on a rampage.

After dispatching nine Ice Werewolves in quick succession, he had amassed a staggering total of over 17,000 HP.

*+20 Free Coins*

With the benefit of Finley’s 10% passive talent and the Goddess of Life’s Tears providing a generous 20% HP buff, that impressive boost skyrocketed to an astonishing 22,000 HP.

Yet, despite this remarkable feat, Alden felt an insatiable hunger for more power.

Then, in a twist of fate, he encountered an unexpected challenge.

As he approached the tenth Ice Werewolf, he was met not with one foe but two, emerging from the icy mists like shadows of despair.

“So this is what a Hell Difficulty dungeon feels like?” he mused, his gaze sharpening with determination.

Sticking to his tried-and-true strategy, he launched into an aerial combo, swiftly taking one down before expertly kiting the other, isolating it from its companion.

With his HP now exceeding 22,000, each of his basic attacks packed a staggering punch—over 600 additional damage per strike. At his current attack speed, that translated to an impressive 3,000 extra damage every second.

Still, the task of whittling down an Ice Werewolf’s colossal 9 million health bar was a grueling endeavor.

But Alden remained undeterred. His strikes were relentless, each blow meticulously calculated to extract every ounce of damage from his build.

Even against two Ice Werewolves, he maintained the upper hand. He could withstand their punishing blows, healing himself with every successful hit, ensuring his health remained topped off.

Once the first beast succumbed to his relentless assault, the second followed suit, falling just as easily—same method, different target.

In this exhilarating moment, Alden wiped out a staggering 18 Ice Werewolves in one fell swoop.

“Next,” he muttered under his breath, a hint of playful challenge in his voice. “Please don’t tell me it’s going to be three at once.”

The 18 kills had granted him a remarkable boost, pushing his HP over the 40,000 mark. Yet, managing two Ice Werewolves simultaneously had still been a formidable task.

Fortunately, no more foes emerged from the shadows.

Instead, a quaint little house materialized before him, its warm glow a stark contrast to the icy wilderness surrounding it.

A woman cautiously peeked through a crack in the window, her eyes widening with relief upon spotting the absence of Ice Werewolves outside. Gathering her courage, she finally opened the door.

“You’re a brave adventurer,” she exclaimed, gratitude spilling from her voice. “I can’t thank you enough. Without your help, this winter would have been unbearable for us.”

Alden turned to face her, curiosity piqued.

*Evie Spalding, Villager, Level 50*
*HP: 1,000,000/1,000,000*
*Attack: 985*
*Skills: ???*

(Note: She’s a local villager. Might give unexpected rewards.)

What truly caught Alden off guard wasn’t her impressive HP or formidable attack power—it was her name.

*+20 Free Coins*

With five years of experience navigating the world of Astralon in his previous life, he was acutely aware that NPCs with names reminiscent of Lardovian culture were a rarity in this realm.

In fact, he had never even encountered such NPCs before.

Players had voiced their frustrations about this in the past; other servers often infused their lore with names steeped in local culture. Yet, Lardovia’s world felt overwhelmingly Westernized, save for the gods and beings tied to the myths surrounding them.

But here, in this dungeon, stood a woman with an unmistakably Eastern name. It ignited a spark within him—an exhilarating mix of excitement and a strange sense of familiarity.

“I was merely doing what anyone would do,” Alden replied, flashing her a warm smile. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Regardless, you’ve shown me a great kindness,” she insisted, her eyes shining with sincerity. “Please, allow me to express my gratitude with a proper dinner.”

Alden, still navigating the intricacies of the dungeon’s mechanics, decided that taking things one step at a time was his best approach.

“Alright,” he agreed, feeling a sense of intrigue as he followed Evie inside.

Her home was modest, but the kitchen was a treasure trove, lined with slabs of smoked meat that looked utterly mouthwatering—like the kind of bacon that could only be found in old-world kitchens.

As she busied herself preparing the meal, she instructed Alden to wait a little while.

That “little while” stretched into what felt like an eternity, surpassing thirty minutes.

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