How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

SLAP!!!

“O-Ow…!”

Another sharp sting struck across my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I barely had time to grunt before the familiar annoyed voice barked again.

“Start over again, you punk!”

I groaned and straightened my posture, turning my head slightly.

“What was that for, Master?”

“You were thinking unnecessary thoughts again,” he said, voice sharp like a blade but with that ever-so-slight edge of familiarity. “How many times do I have to tell you—let go when you reach the final form. You might know how to use the technique, but you still lack the soul behind it. Focus more, and maybe you won’t experience any pain.”

I winced, rubbing the sore spot on my back.

“This is unreasonable—”

“What was that?”

“…Nothing, sir.”

‘Tch.’ I clicked my tongue internally.

Even though he knows I already understand the mechanics—knows that I’ve absorbed the fundamentals from my past lives—he still refuses to let anything count unless it’s at utter perfection.

Annoying as it was… he had a point.

The Hidden Blade Technique wasn’t something you could just mimic and call it a day.

Mastery wasn’t just about getting the form right—it was about the essence, the flow, the purpose behind each swing.

And all I’ve been doing so far is relying on muscle memory and instinct passed down from a life that technically wasn’t even this one.

I needed to embody it in this life, as Riley, not as a shadow of who I once was.

That’s what made this training hard. Not physically—though it definitely was—but mentally.

Spiritually.

I had to carve my own interpretation of the form, not just replay it like a broken record.

This… was how my days had been going lately.

Morning training with the old man, who showed no mercy even after I technically beat him once.

Then a few monster hunts in the afternoon, or occasionally—when my body wasn’t sore enough to break—some precious downtime with the girls.

I had planned to use this winter break to level up more aggressively, but considering what happened…

I didn’t really need to anymore.

[Name: Riley Hell]

[Race: Human… (????)]

[Level: 186]

[Strength: S (???)]

[Agility: A (0/100)]

[Endurance: A (0/100)]

[Luck: 0 (????)]

[Power: B (0/80)]

[Available Status Points: 70 + 20 + 20 + 10]

Thanks to accidentally killing Master—yeah, still sounds crazy when I think about it—my stats had taken a huge leap.

In the game, reaching this level would’ve required farming hundreds if not thousands of S-rank monsters every single day.

Just to gain a handful of levels, you’d need to sell your soul to the grind gods.

But here I was, absurdly gifted stat bonuses and experience for taking down one of the few living Ascended beings in the world.

Lucky? Maybe.

Or maybe… unlucky, depending on how you look at it.

After all, considering Master was an Ascended being—one of the strongest living creatures—I should’ve probably gained way more levels from defeating him.

But I guess the temporary level boost I received is still capping my EXP extraction rate, balancing everything out to prevent me from skyrocketing too far too fast.

It’s like the system itself doesn’t want to break the game or rather the rules of the world itself.

Which also explains why, despite defeating the White Queen—a literal god in her own realm—the EXP rewards were still underwhelming.

I mean, yeah, killing a reality-bending entity should have bumped me into legendary tier, but instead, the gains were… humble in a weird sense.

Clearly, there are internal limiters at play. Some kind of system-imposed moderation keeping me in check for now.

Still, whatever the case may be, the truth is that I’ve gotten stronger.

Noticeably stronger.

And in this world, that’s all that matters.

Now, I stood at a crossroads.

I had enough remaining status points to either:

Upgrade my remaining A-rank skills to S-rank,

Or raise my sole B-rank skill to A-rank.

All solid options.

All would bring serious boosts.

But after giving it some thought, I figured balance was the better long-term path.

If all my base stats were high across the board, my eventual Ascension would yield greater results.

Better multipliers, stronger forms, fewer weak points.

Especially now that I was walking a path few could even perceive, let alone follow.

So, I made the decision.

[Power: B (0/80)] → [Power: B (80/80)]

[Available Status Points: 120 – 80 = 40]

[Power: A (0/100)]

With that, my power stat finally ascended to A-rank, standing tall beside the rest.

Now, I could probably go toe-to-toe with nearly anyone in the academy—even without relying on my Ascended State or my ultimate skill.

My foundation had become solid.

But that brought up another thought.

Ascension.

A mystery even to me, despite having unlocked it prematurely.

I could feel it—like something just out of reach.

The process of my race changing… it was close. I could sense it in my core, crawling beneath my skin and pressing at the boundaries of my soul.

Just a few more breakthroughs.

A few more Ascensions, and I’d begin to understand the First Sequence in its entirety.

[Name: Riley Hell]

[Race: Human… (????)]

[Level: 186]

[Strength: S (???)]

[Agility: A (0/100)]

[Endurance: A (0/100)]

[Luck: 0 (????)]

[Power: A (0/100)]

There was something unnatural hidden behind the (????) in my race line.

Something shifting.

And though the system hadn’t told me what yet… I was close to finding out.

Until then, all I could do was continue.

Train. Ascend. Survive.

It’s becoming more and more clear to me now—whatever I’m turning into, it’s not something that belongs entirely to this world.

No, whatever I’ll become… it’s somewhere closer to beings like Eris or Erebil—divine entities that stand far above mortal comprehension.

And that’s what worries me.

The blessings I’ve received from both of them—though powerful—aren’t without consequences.

From what I’ve gathered, the moment I enter the First Sequence, those blessings will be absorbed and imprinted into my very being.

That means a part of them—Eris, Erebil—will essentially become a part of me. Forever.

At a glance, that might seem like a fair trade. I mean, it’s beneficial now.

The power they’ve given me is undeniably helping me climb the ladder faster than I should. But… long term?

It feels less like gaining strength and more like being tethered to their will.

A leash, not a gift.

Sure, Eris might be more stable—more tame, at least compared to a chaotic goddess like Erebil—but at the end of the day, she’s still a divine entity.

And no matter how friendly or supportive she may act now, once I fully inherit her blessing… I’ll be tied to her.

Whether that turns out to be a good thing or a disaster remains to be seen.

For now, she’s my ally, and, technically, my friend.

But I can’t shake the feeling that even she is just waiting for the right moment to take what’s hers.

Ideally, I’d want to break free from both of them.

Forge my own path.

Have a concept of divinity that’s truly mine—something original, unbound by the ideals or agendas of either goddess.

That’s what the First Sequence should mean to me: freedom, not obligation.

But unfortunately… until I figure out how to create or awaken my own divine concept, I’ll have to continue relying on Eris’s blessing.

There’s no other option right now.

As for Erebil… I honestly don’t know how she’ll react if I outright ignore the power she’s given me.

She’s not exactly the understanding type.

But then again, she knows.

She knows I don’t trust her.

And I’m certain she’s perfectly fine with that, so long as I continue down the path she’s nudging me toward.

In the end, she’s a goddess of chaos.

And chaos… doesn’t need loyalty. It just needs results.

So, I’ll play along—for now.

But the moment I gain the strength to stand alone, without either of them holding the leash…

I’ll decide what kind of being I’ll become.

“Master~ let’s go now, your lovers are waiting!”

Lavine’s cheerful voice rang out from the edge of the clearing.

The ever-energetic little fairy flitted in the air, her delicate wings glittering under the soft winter sunlight.

Wrapped gently in someone’s arms, she squirmed a bit before settling down again—those arms belonged to none other than Bom, who was patiently standing nearby with her usual soft smile.

The sight was… strange. And oddly heartwarming.

These two had only met a few days ago, and yet, somehow, they’d become surprisingly close in that short span of time.

Their personalities weren’t exactly the type I’d expect to mesh well—Bom was sly, elegant, and dangerously teasing, while Lavine was brash, loud, and occasionally more trouble than help.

But weirdly enough, it worked.

I had a feeling it wasn’t because their personalities matched… but because Lavine liked Bom.

More than she liked the other girls back at home.

Maybe it was because Bom treated her more gently.

With a sense of affection and care that bordered on spoiling her, rather than the usual poking, squishing, or tugging around that she endured from the others.

Especially Liyana, who—despite everything—still seemed to hold a bit of a grudge against Lavine after that night with the girls.

“Just a few more strikes and I’ll be done with my quota of a thousand,”

I muttered, gripping my blade a little tighter before sparing a glance toward my master.

He gave a simple nod, the unspoken message clear: Do what you want, as long as you finish your goals.

As strict as he was during training, he wasn’t unreasonable.

So long as I completed the daily objectives he set, he let me be.

Honestly, I’d half-expected him to lecture me about the complications of having a harem—especially considering how the Eastern Empire wasn’t exactly fond of such arrangements in their more conservative regions—but…

Surprisingly enough, he hadn’t.

Maybe he was more open-minded than I’d initially thought.

Or maybe he just liked me more than he let on.

“Brother-in-law, you’re quite the busy man, aren’t you~?”

Bom suddenly chimed from my side, her voice carrying that teasing sweetness that always felt just a little too close.

“Did you even get any proper sleep yesterday?”

“…Can’t deny that,” I replied with a half-shrug.

“Fufu~ I guess it can’t be helped. Having such beautiful girls loitering around you all day—clinging to you, fighting for your attention—it’s enough to make any man weak at the knees, hmm?” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “How about resting your poor head on your ever-kind big sister-in-law’s lap for a little while~? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“…No thank you.”

“Oh come on, you’re always so stingy when it comes to me~” she pouted playfully. “Even though I caught you just burying your face in that pink-haired girl’s thighs in the snowy meadow yesterday~”

I paused.

“…Alice’s thighs are heavenly, and we are lovers—so it’s only natural to be affectionate… wait. You saw that?!”

“Oopsies~” Bom smiled innocently, though her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone~ unless, of course, you continue to refuse your dear sister-in-law’s kindness.”

This woman… probably won’t change in a while.

Ignoring my dear sister-in-law’s antics—for the sake of my sanity more than anything—I focused once more on my training.

I gripped my sword tightly, exhaling through my nose as I sliced forward in a practiced, fluid motion.

No mana. No enhancements. Just pure technique, muscle control, and memory.

It still felt strange, swinging like this—raw, with none of the magical amplification I was so used to—but at the same time, it was oddly… grounding.

There was something refined and brutal about using a blade without any tricks.

Even without mana, each form of the technique felt more honest this way, like it was being etched directly into my soul.

Deep down, I had this weird but unwavering feeling—once I finally used the technique with mana, after mastering it fully under my teacher’s watchful eye, it’d be far more powerful and defined than it had ever been before.

Like carving a path forward with my own hands, not one borrowed from others or enhanced by gifts.

“Riley.”

My master’s voice cut through the cold air, just as sharp as the strikes I was practicing.

I paused, turning toward him, my brow slightly raised.

It was still a bit weird hearing him call me by my name every now and then.

He usually just barked orders like I was some lost disciple from his youth.

So when he did call me by name, it usually meant something serious.

“Yes, Master?”

He stared at me for a moment, his arms crossed behind his back.

The worn-out fabric of his robe flapped faintly in the wind.

“There are only a few days left before you return to the academy, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Winter break’s almost over.”

“Good. Then tomorrow, we’ll move on to the practical application of your training.”

My brows twitched slightly. “You mean… a mock battle?”

“Nah.” He waved his hand with a smirk. “As fun as it’d be to beat the crap out of each other again, there’s no real thrill if there’s nothing at stake. Besides… I’d rather not get humiliated a second time.”

So, he was still sore about last time.

“Instead, meet me here at first sunrise tomorrow. I found something more suitable.”

“More suitable…?” I asked cautiously.

His eyes gleamed. “A dungeon.”

My posture straightened.

A dungeon?

If there was one this close to our training grounds, and he was suggesting it now, it had to have been reserved.

Which meant—he pulled strings.

Probably got the duke’s permission.

With my current level and skills, I figured it’d be at least A-rank, maybe even S-rank.

Honestly, I wasn’t too worried.

At Level186 with upgraded stats and a few ascension triggers near completion, there weren’t many threats I couldn’t handle solo anymore.

“Alright,” I nodded, feeling a bit excited. “What’s the catch?”

“You won’t be able to use your mana while clearing it.”

…

“…You’re kidding, right?” I said flatly, turning to look at him like he had just lost his mind.

“No.”

He didn’t even blink.

This damn old man.

He definitely still hated me for defeating him that one time.

I sighed and looked down at my sword, shaking my head. “You really hold grudges, don’t you, Master?”

“I don’t hold grudges. I teach lessons.” He smirked again. “And if you can’t master your technique under pressure, without relying on your mana, then you’re not ready for what’s coming next.”

I grimaced. He had a point.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“…Fine,” I muttered under my breath. “But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’ll have to learn how to haunt without mana, too.”

“……Old bastard.”

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