How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 535: Dungeons and Chaos

Chapter 535: Dungeons and Chaos

A bright, sunny morning greeted the academy grounds.

The air was crisp but not biting, the lingering chill of winter softened by the slow but steady creep of spring.

After yesterday’s whirlwind of stress, most people would probably choose to sleep in, drink tea, and let the day take its time.

But not me.

No — the best way to clear your head was to fill it with movement.

Get your blood pumping, focus on something physical, and let the lingering worries burn away with each step.

So, as usual, I started with my daily morning jog.

The wind swept past my cheeks, cool enough to keep me from overheating but warm enough to promise greener days ahead.

Patches of snow still clung stubbornly to shaded corners, but fresh grass was beginning to break through, and the once-bare trees had faint buds blushing on their branches.

The academy’s stone paths gleamed under the sunlight, as if freshly polished.

“You know, man,” a voice grumbled beside me, “why do you always invite me to this?”

“Well, you’re the only one who accepts,” I shot back.

“Lucas is free all the time for you.”

“He’s got his own priorities right now,” I said with a smirk. “And besides—” I glanced at him, “—you like training with me, don’t you?”

Kagami groaned but didn’t deny it.

As usual, he was here running beside me, the two of us jogging in sync along the academy park’s outer loop.

At first, he’d struggled to keep up with my pace.

Now?

Well… he was almost there.

I was holding back — a little — but there were definite signs of improvement.

His strides had gotten steadier, his breathing a little more controlled.

Haah…! Haah…!

…Or maybe not.

I shot him a sidelong look. His face was red, his breaths coming in short bursts, sweat beading along his brow.

He looked like he’d been through a battlefield rather than a morning jog.

“Why don’t we take a break for now?” I suggested.

He gave me a flat, exhausted look before nodding once.

“Alright…” he panted.

I guessed he’d realized that trying to match my pace — like he usually did — would only end with him doubled over and puking into the nearest hedge.

“Tch… man, just how do you always have that much energy?” Kagami grumbled between gulps of air. “I get that you’re strong, but at least try to sweat a little. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“How many times are you going to complain about that?” I asked, keeping my breathing steady.

“As long as I can’t keep up with you.”

“Eternity, then.”

He shot me a flat glare, but it quickly broke into a chuckle.

I tossed him a cold canteen of water, and he nearly crushed the metal with how hard he squeezed it, swallowing more than half the contents in one go.

The sunlight caught on the lines of his toned, muscular frame, making him look like one of those training-ground posters the academy liked to hang around to inspire new recruits, though with his face it had the opposite effect.

“So,” Kagami said, lowering the canteen, “what did you really want to talk about? You didn’t drag me out here just to make me suffer, did you?”

“Was I that obvious?”

“You’re always obvious,” he said with a faint smirk. “You never really invite me to do anything unless it’s either training or on a whim. And even though we haven’t been friends for that long, I think I’ve got your personality pretty much figured out.”

“Is that so…” I muttered. Guess I was more transparent than I thought.

“Well then, I won’t beat around the bush. Kagami, can I ask you for advice?”

“Advice about what?”

“About girls.”

Kagami froze. Blinked. Then his entire face twisted.

“This motherf—!?”

“…Huh?”

“Why would you—YOU—ask me something like that, you bastard?!” He jabbed a finger at me. “The ever-so-great harem prince, the goddess-stealing menace himself, is asking me for advice about girls?! Are you mocking me?!”

“Calm down, man! I didn’t mean anything by it! I just genuinely wanted to ask for advice about how to handle them.”

“What sort of advice could you possibly need from me? Hate to admit it, but sorry, bud—I’ve got zero experience with girls.”

“Exactly!”

“…Huh?”

“You see, after what happened at the ball the other day, the girls have been a bit too… physical. And clingy. So, I wanted some advice on how you—naturally—make girls ignore you and give you some space for a bit, I’m sure it’s not just a bout appearance right? Afterall you and Clara were pretty close last time, right?”

“…. Don’t talk to me from now on”

…….

Each semester, the academy held a set of mandatory examinations—designed not just to test knowledge, but to push students to the edge of their abilities.

These weren’t your typical written tests; they were crafted to measure how well a student could wield their own unique traits, combat style, and problem-solving skills under pressure.

One of the most infamous among them used to be the Duo Exam.

The concept was simple in theory, brutal in practice: you’d be paired with a random partner—sometimes from your own class, sometimes from an entirely different tier—and the two of you would have to complete a mission together.

It tested coordination, adaptability, and patience… mostly patience, especially when you got stuck with someone who thought “teamwork” meant “let me handle this while you don’t die.”

But the Duo Exam was no more.

Ever since the academy implemented the new Joint Evaluation Exam, the Duo trials were abolished.

In their place came a different set of challenges—most notably, the Dungeon Hunt.

Originally reserved for second-years and above, it was now mandatory for first-years as well.

A controversial change, but the faculty claimed it would “accelerate growth.” Most students just called it “accelerating the death rate.”

It was definitely the better option than trying than the Duo exams in terms of combat adaptability though.

“Master… why are you making me write all these celestial runes?”

I glanced over.

Lavine was crouched over the forest floor, tracing glowing sigils into the dirt with meticulous strokes.

Her voice was sharp with complaint, though it almost didn’t match her delicate, almost porcelain face.

“I told you already—it’s for precaution.”

“I understand it’s for that lone demon, but… aren’t we in the middle of nowhere right now?”

Her words echoed through the still air of Flaxes Forest, a quiet woodland not far from a small border-town of the Germonia Empire.

It sat at the edge of the borderlands between the empire’s territory and the academy’s jurisdiction—a place few would wander unless they had a reason.

Lavine kept working, muttering like an old woman, even as the sigils she carved glimmered faintly against the soft moss and roots.

The sight was oddly amusing—her delicate light-blue hair catching the sunlight, her equally blue eyes narrowed in concentration, while her tone was pure exasperation.

“I understand your curiosity,” I said, “but for now, just trust me.”

She huffed, finishing another rune before straightening up. “Oh, right—by the way, Master… what happened to your face?”

She was probably talking about my hair—frizzed and singed in uneven clumps, as if it had been struck by lightning.

“Let’s just say…” I ran a hand through it, feeling the brittle strands, “…I dodged a meteor over my head.”

…….

[Act 4 – Chapter 2: Placed Chaos in the Dungeons]

And then there was Stacia’s route—the one draped in crimson curtains, watched over by the ever-smiling clown.

For a while, I’d told myself I wouldn’t interfere.

The world had its own flow, and everyone around me… they were capable enough to handle their own futures.

My hands had been in too many threads already, pulling on strings that maybe should’ve been left alone.

But.

There’s always a but.

I’d changed too much to just sit still.

My very existence had already tipped the scales in subtle ways, my actions—however small—sending ripples that I couldn’t take back.

And I knew there was a limit to how long I could keep ignoring the consequences.

Specially with her warnings….

“Why are you buying that black mask, Riley?”

I glanced up. Alice stood beside me, her head tilted, her curiosity worn plainly on her face.

“I just wanted one,” I replied. “Haven’t had one since I was a kid.”

Her eyes lit up. “Hm~ I see, I see. Let’s have matching ones, then!”

“Go ahead.”

She spun toward the sales counter without hesitation. “Excuse me! I’d like to buy four pieces of these, please!”

The shopkeeper, a gruff-looking man with tired eyes, nodded and began pulling out more masks—identical black cloth, simple but cleanly made.

“…Why buy three more?” I asked, watching her stack them carefully.

“I wanted to give them to the other girls~” she said, that lilting tone of hers impossible to read—half teasing, half sincere.

“I see…”

“Ehehe~”

I couldn’t help it—I reached out and patted her head.

Alice closed her eyes, almost purring like a cat, a faint smile curling on her lips.

Somehow, this senior of mine always reacted the same way when I did that.

I turned my attention back to my own mask, the black fabric cool and smooth in my hands.

I slipped it on briefly, testing the fit.

The faint scent of new cloth lingered.

Something like this… should do for now.