How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 542: Tragedy

Chapter 542: Tragedy

“Stacia~”

“Hn?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing….”

“Hmm, really now….”

“Yes, really. So go back and do your own thing, Vanessa.”

“Tch.” Vanessa clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. “It’s not every day I get to visit your kingdom outside of boring diplomatic reasons, you know. Let’s go explore the city again!”

“We already explored yesterday….” Stacia’s voice was flat, her eyes not leaving the page before her.

“That wasn’t enough.” Vanessa’s lips curved into a sly grin. “Hehe~ don’t worry, I’ll cover my ears this time—unlike last time.”

Stacia’s hand paused briefly, her quill hovering just above the paper. “I doubt covering your ears would be enough to lessen the attention people have on us.”

“Oh, come on.”

Vanessa flopped dramatically onto Stacia’s bed, rolling from one side to the other like a restless child.

The sheets tangled around her limbs as her long silvery green hair spread out like liquid moonlight, her pointed elven ears twitching in exaggerated annoyance.

Stacia, however, paid her no mind.

She simply shifted slightly on her chair, adjusting the angle of her notebook and continued writing.

The faint scratching of her feathered quill filled the silence, an oddly soothing rhythm that contrasted against Vanessa’s restless fidgeting.

After a few moments of watching her in frustration, Vanessa spoke up again. “You know, Stacia… I’ve been meaning to ask. What are you always writing in that book of yours?”

“Just a small journal.”

“Journal? Like a diary of some sort? Didn’t think you were the type to be into that kind of thing.”

Stacia didn’t reply.

Not a word, not even a glance.

Her pale fingers glided steadily across the page, the ink soaking into the parchment in elegant, deliberate strokes.

Whatever she was writing, it was done with a focus Vanessa had rarely seen in her.

“…You’re seriously ignoring me now?” Vanessa muttered, half annoyed, half amused. She puffed her cheeks slightly, kicking her legs against the edge of the bed like a sulking child.

For thirty minutes the room stayed like this—Stacia quietly writing, Vanessa melting further into boredom.

Her once-proud posture had long since crumbled, her arms dangling limply over the edge of the mattress, her hair brushing the floor as she let out a dramatic groan.

Finally, Stacia closed the notebook with a soft thud.

“Let’s go, Vanessa.”

Vanessa sat up instantly, ears twitching upright. “Huh—? Ah! Oh? Are we finally going to the city again?”

“No,” Stacia said, standing smoothly and sliding her notebook back into a drawer. She turned toward Vanessa, her crimson eyes unusually serious. “We have something far more important to do.”

“…Hm?” Vanessa tilted her head, curiosity immediately overpowering her boredom.

…..

Walking down the grand hallways of Luna Castle, the ancestral home of the Del-Luna royal family, Stacia moved with the grace befitting her station.

Every step of hers was measured, her posture flawless, and the faint glimmer of her presence seemed to ripple through the air around her.

Servants carrying linens and trays paused to bow deeply, their eyes lowered in reverence to their crown princess.

The same gestures of respect were extended toward Vanessa, though hers carried a subtle difference—respect mixed with awe, for few outsiders, let alone elves, walked these halls with such freedom.

The hour was late.

The vast corridors of the castle were quieting as the servants prepared to end their day.

Lanterns glowed dimly in silver sconces, their warm light painting elongated shadows across polished marble floors.

“Where are we going, Stacia?” Vanessa asked, her voice bouncing softly against the high ceilings.

Stacia didn’t reply. Her silence only made Vanessa’s curiosity burn brighter, though she decided—for the moment—to bite back further questions.

They continued on until Stacia led her to one of the castle’s most secluded corners, where the air grew stiller, colder.

Before them stood a thick stone wall, its age betrayed by the faint cracks webbing across its surface.

Stacia laid her hand against a nearby pillar carved with old symbols.

Blue runes flickered to life beneath her touch, glowing veins of light spreading across the pillar before etching themselves outward, forming a geometric pattern that snaked along the stone wall.

With a deep hum, the wall trembled.

The outline of a door revealed itself, and slowly the hidden passage opened, exhaling a faint breeze of stale, cold air.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “T-This is…?”

“It’s a hidden entrance to the castle’s dungeons.”

“D-Dungeons!?” Vanessa’s ears twitched upright, her voice cracking slightly. “Eh—your family actually has dungeons, Stacia? I mean, I know humans like to keep their own kind locked up in cages to punish them, but… I didn’t think the noble Del-Luna family would be the type.”

Stacia glanced at her, crimson eyes calm, unreadable.

“All people are more similar than you realize. My family—royal or not—is not an exception.”

She pressed forward into the passage without hesitation.

“Come. There’s something I want to show you.”

Vanessa lingered a moment at the threshold, her instincts pricking at the sudden shift of atmosphere.

Her elven senses caught the faint echo of something deeper—an energy long sealed away beneath stone and time.

“…Strange,” she muttered as she finally followed.

The air inside the passage grew heavy, tinged with the faint metallic tang of iron and something older, harder to define.

The only light came from the red torches lining the spiraling staircase that led downward, their flames dancing weakly, casting jagged shadows that stretched and shrank with every step.

The stairwell seemed to descend endlessly, its diameter wide enough to swallow dozens of men at once, spiraling down into the heart of the earth.

From just a glance, Vanessa could tell: this was no ordinary prison.

The sheer vastness of the subterranean structure rivaled the castle above—perhaps even surpassed it.

Yet unlike the polished marble and gilded stone of the halls above, this place was raw and oppressive, carved from ancient stone, lined with pathways that branched off into darkness.

“…This doesn’t feel like a place meant to hold ordinary criminals,”

Vanessa’s pointed ears twitched faintly as she descended further into the abyssal stairwell.

Even through the thick layers of stone and dust, she could hear things that no ordinary human would ever notice—faint whispers, echoes of sorrow, the lingering cries of spirits that had once been bound here.

The deeper they went, the heavier the air became, as if the walls themselves had soaked up centuries of grief.

This place… so many lives were broken here… she thought, her chest tightening.

It was not only the sound of the past she heard, but the weight of it, pressing down on her elven soul.

Finally, after what felt like an endless descent, they reached the bottom.

Before them stretched nothing but pitch-black emptiness, a cavernous chamber that seemed to swallow sound itself.

Stacia lifted her hand

With a simple motion, a sphere of flame blossomed into existence above her palm, casting a warm, golden-red glow across the oppressive dark.

The firelight revealed the outlines of rusted iron bars, ancient shackles nailed into the stone, and faint carvings etched into the walls—marks of despair left by nameless hands.

The flames danced, but instead of pushing back the darkness, they only seemed to remind Vanessa how vast it was.

“S-Stacia, it’s getting late. Maybe we should… maybe we should go back for tonight—”

Her words stopped cold when Stacia turned to her.

The light of the flame reflected in the princess’s crimson eyes, making them gleam with an intensity Vanessa had never seen before.

“Vanessa, why do you like me so much?”

“…E-Excuse me?”

“Why, do you consider me your friend?”

The elf’s heart skipped.

Of all times and places, here, in this suffocating dungeon, Stacia had chosen to ask that?

Vanessa opened her mouth, fumbling for words. “Well… because… I just like you, Stacia. And above all, you’ve always been kind to me.”

For a moment, the faintest smile touched Stacia’s lips, though it held no warmth. “…I see. The same answer as always.”

“Hm? What do you—”

Vanessa stopped when she realized Stacia was looking at her differently—not with the usual gentle aloofness she carried, but with something heavier, sharper.

“You see,” Stacia said, her voice calm but laced with something unfathomable, “it took me twelve attempts just to figure out how to clear the scenario involving you. But no matter how much I tried to betray you, no matter what I did to wound your trust… you never truly hated me.”

“…W-What?”

“Betrayal should have been the key to breaking free from my tragic loop with you. At least, that’s what I believed. Yet none of it worked. Not even once.”

The orb of flame in Stacia’s palm flickered, shadows sharpening against the dungeon walls as her voice lowered.

“Out of the one hundred and seven repeats I’ve endured of this same cursed week, not a single time has your answer changed.”

“…Repeats? Stacia, what… what are you talking about?”

Stacia’s expression softened, though her eyes carried the weight of someone far older, far more exhausted than a girl her age should ever be.

She took a slow step closer, the flame hovering between them.

“I’ve lived this week again and again, Vanessa. Over, and over, and over… and each time, you remain the same. Unyielding. Unchanging. Even when I hurt you, even when I betrayed you…” Her voice trembled just faintly. “…you never abandoned me why?”

“Because you’re my friend….?”

“I’ve always known you were stubborn and painfully trusting, Vanessa.”

Stacia’s voice was steady, but her eyes shimmered with something far heavier than arrogance or pride.

“That’s why I thought… if I tore apart that innocence, if I shattered your heart, it would be more than enough to clear this cursed day. But it seems your love for me… runs deeper than I realized.”

Vanessa felt her breath catch. Her body trembled, but not from the chill of the dungeon.

“I tried,” Stacia continued, her gaze unwavering. “I tried almost countless methods to make you feel it—disgust, betrayal, tragedy… to make you hate me. Yet none of it worked. Not once. No matter what sins I committed, you always chose to forgive me.”

Her crimson eyes dimmed, and for a fleeting moment she looked unbearably tired. “…That’s why I’ve come to believe your tragedy isn’t just about you. It runs deeper. It may even be entwined with mine. And for that… I am truly sorry for making you suffer all this time, Vanessa.”

“S-Stacia—” Vanessa whispered, voice breaking, but Stacia raised a hand gently, silencing her.

“Trust me,” she said firmly. “I’ve made sure to record every single day, every sin, every cruel act I forced upon you. Even if the loops vanish and reality resets, I will carry them. I will remember. And even if no one else believes it, I will not forget the things I’ve done. Reality or not… treating you like this isn’t right. Vanessa…I promise. This will be the last time.”

Before Vanessa could speak, Stacia snapped her fingers.

The dungeon flared to life.

One by one, the massive torches lining the underground chamber ignited, their flames climbing four meters high, casting jagged shadows across the walls.

The sudden flood of light burned away the obscurity of the chamber—revealing the truth Vanessa never could have imagined.

Her knees nearly buckled.

The barrier that had cloaked the area dissolved with a sickening hiss, like flesh being scorched. Metallic gates creaked open, the sound like the groaning of the damned.

And then it hit her—the stench.

Rotting flesh, dried blood, and the unmistakable stink of suffering that had lingered for gods knew how long.

Vanessa gagged and fell to her knees, clutching her mouth as bile rose in her throat.

She vomited, unable to endure the overwhelming odor that invaded her senses.

But the smell was only the beginning.

The light revealed chains embedded into stone, hooks strung with what remained of bodies—half-burnt, half-decayed, their faces twisted in eternal screams.

he walls themselves were stained dark crimson, streaks of blood long since dried but never washed away.

And among it all… the voices.

Wailing.

Screaming.

Spirits not at rest, their cries clawing at Vanessa’s ears.

They begged.

They cursed.

They shrieked in agony as flames that no longer burned still consumed them in an endless cycle of torment.

Stacia walked forward, her steps light and deliberate as if she were not standing atop a mountain of corpses but simply pacing through a garden path.

The crunch of brittle bone and charred flesh echoed in the chamber, each step reminding Vanessa of where they were.

“You see… My first trial was my mother. It took me three attempts before I learned how to hold the knife steady enough to cut her neck without faltering. By the third loop, I no longer hesitated.”

Her words were clinical, as though she were reciting lines from a history book rather than her own sins.

“Next was my baby brother…” Stacia’s tone softened—not with regret, but with memory. “…I had to leave him to the beasts. To watch his tiny hands reaching out for me while his cries faded into the dark. It took longer than I care to admit before I could force myself to turn my back and walk away, I can still hear his pained cries….”

Vanessa’s legs shook.

Her nails dug into the stone floor as she tried to process the words, but the meaning twisted her stomach inside out.

“And most recently,” Stacia continued, “my father. He was already ill, so all I had to do was… accelerate it. Each morning, each meal, I added just a little more poison with my own hands. Watched as his breath grew shallow, as his strength drained, until there was nothing left but silence.”

Her crimson eyes gleamed faintly in the firelight as she looked over her shoulder at Vanessa. “All together, those trials alone consumed forty-five repeats. Forty-five weeks of blood and ash before I realized something: that I was… special. And you, Vanessa—” her lips curved into the faintest of smiles, “—you were special too. My best friend. The one constant.”

“S-Stacia…” Vanessa’s voice cracked, tears streaking her face as confusion, grief, and horror battled within her chest.

She couldn’t understand.

She didn’t want to understand.

Stacia ignored the trembling plea in her friend’s tone.

Instead, she descended further up the mound of bodies, her flame illuminating the grotesque pile. She crouched, extending her hand into the mass of twisted limbs and blackened skin.

There was a sound of something wet shifting, bones grinding against stone as she pulled something from the heap.

What she held wriggled faintly in her grasp.

Vanessa’s heart froze.

The firelight revealed pointed ears, charred yet unmistakable—an elf’s.

The head of one of the victims lolled in Stacia’s hand, its expression locked in eternal agony, the flesh half-burnt, the hair singed away.

Vanessa’s stomach lurched violently. Her chest heaved, and she collapsed forward, vomiting onto the stone floor.

“G-Gugh…!!” she choked, tears blurring her vision. Her throat burned as she coughed and gagged, bile mixing with the stench of death that pressed in from every side.

“Cough—! Cough…! Cough!”

Her whole body shook as if her very spirit was being suffocated by the cries of the slain.

She could feel them—every broken elf spirit clinging to the air, screaming for vengeance, screaming for release.

And through it all, Stacia stood calmly, her hand still gripping the severed head as if it were proof of some twisted truth.

“In all my countless repeats,” Stacia said, her voice cutting through the echoes of Vanessa’s sobs, “I thought the answer lay in you. That if I broke you, if I betrayed you enough times, the cycle would end. But I was wrong. The truth was never about your innocence, Vanessa… it was about the world around you.”

Stacia’s steps echoed as she descended the mound of charred bodies.

Her figure, lit by the dull red of the torches and her own firelight, looked almost divine in contrast to the filth around her. Yet what she carried was anything but holy.

In her arms was a large body—barely clinging to life, twitching faintly with each shallow breath.

Vanessa’s eyes widened, her tears blurring but not enough to hide the face.

Her lips trembled.

“L-Lifrey…?”

Her voice was barely audible, but it shook the air between them.

It was unmistakable—her brother’s features, though gaunt and marred with burns, were still there. His chest rose and fell, ragged, as if each breath might be his last.

“B-But he… he left for the capital days ago… the king himself summoned him to a secluded wing of the court…” Vanessa’s thoughts twisted violently. The confusion was worse than a blade. “Stacia… what did you do…? What did you—”

“Let him go!” she screamed at last, her trembling voice breaking into sobs.

But her plea was cut short.

Fwoooosh!

A sudden surge of reddish-golden flame erupted from Stacia’s palms, wrapping around Lifrey’s broken frame.

The chamber lit in violent light, shadows stretching grotesquely along the dungeon walls.

“A-Aaaaghhhh!!!!”

Lifrey’s scream tore through the silence, raw and agonized, echoing in every corner of the chamber.

His body convulsed as the flames devoured him from within, not leaving even ash, but burning something deeper—his soul.

Vanessa collapsed, her arms wrapping around herself as she wailed.

Her cries merged with her brother’s until they became indistinguishable, a single broken sound that the dungeon devoured eagerly.

“Stacia… why…?”

Her throat tore with the words, her tears streaming freely as she looked at the girl she once called her dearest friend.

But Stacia only looked back with tired eyes. Her voice, though soft, carried finality.

“Please… don’t forgive me, Vanessa.”

And before Vanessa could move, before she could beg again, a blade of condensed flame materialized in Stacia’s hand.

With a single motion, she thrust it forward, piercing Vanessa’s heart.

The air shook as the flames erupted through her chest.

FOOOOSHHHH!!!!

“Ahhhhhh!!!!”

Vanessa screamed in a voice filled with both pain and disbelief.

The fire crawled over her skin, scorching not just flesh but searing the pathways of mana inside her.

She could feel it—the burning away of everything that made her an elf, everything that connected her to the spirits.

Her hands reached out toward Stacia, shaking violently, but there was no strength left in them.

Then, silence.

Stacia’s eyes closed as the flames consumed her friend.

She did not want to see Vanessa’s final expression—whether it was hate, sorrow, or something else entirely.

The sound faded, replaced by emptiness.

And then—

Lick.

Her eyes fluttered open

Bark! Bark!

A dog’s playful yelps filled her ears.

Her breath caught, her vision clearing.

She was no longer in the dungeon.

No corpses, no screams, no fire.

Instead, sunlight streamed through the familiar curtains of her chamber.

Her body rested on the side of her bed, and at her feet, a dog wagged its tail furiously, trying to climb onto her lap.

Stacia blinked.

She reached out with hesitant fingers, touching the warm, living creature.

Its tongue brushed her palm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she almost laughed. Almost.

Her lips curled into a faint smile as she held the dog’s face gently.

“So… you’re my next trial?”

Before the dog could bark again, a sudden voice pierced the calm.

“Mother!”

Before she could react, her body was thrown backward.

Something small and warm slammed into her abdomen with childlike force, knocking her onto the bed.

She gasped, her mind racing, as she looked down.

A young boy, no more than six or seven, looked up at her with bright eyes.

His little hands clutched at her clothes as he grinned widely.

“You’re awake! Come on, Mother! Let’s go play!”

Stacia’s breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes widened as she took in the boy’s face.

It was eerily familiar, almost a reflection of her own features—but softer, innocent, untouched by tragedy.