How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 546: Hero

Chapter 546: Hero

Lucas.

The protagonist of the game [Hero’s Legacy].

His destiny had been carved into stone since the very beginning, and it stretched, unbroken, to the very end.

To save the world—no matter what.

He wasn’t just a hero by chance or circumstance. He was designed, written, sculpted to embody that role.

Every breath, every step, every trial only served to push him closer to the inevitable conclusion.

A figure destined to stand at the edge of ruin, and pull the world back from collapse.

That was the essence of Lucas. Someone meant to reach the end.

And because of that inevitability, there had always been a vast, unbridgeable gulf between him and everyone else.

The friends, rivals, companions—none of them could truly stand at his level.

That was what it meant to be the main protagonist of a dying world: isolation through inevitability.

Of course, the journey wasn’t meant to be easy.

There were countless obstacles before he could grasp that power.

Nightmarish bosses, hidden routes, betrayals that tested his spirit.

And yes—bad endings existed. Tragedies where the hero fell short, where the flame of destiny sputtered out too soon.

But no matter the divergence, one fact always remained unchanged.

Lucas was meant to grow.

He was meant to rise.

He was meant to become strong enough to rival the goddess herself, if not surpass her entirely.

Even in idleness—even if the player did nothing—his destiny pulled him upward. Slowly, surely, relentlessly.

A Hero.

That was the title placed upon him. Not just a role, but a law of existence that bent the world around him.

Across countless playthroughs, countless routes, I had seen him.

Guided him. Molded him.

Some players dismissed him as hollow, a blank self-insert with little substance of his own.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? He was shaped by those who carried him, who chose his words, his paths, his sins.

He was, in truth, a reflection of the one behind the screen.

And that same truth lingered here, in this reality.

Lucas was strong—there was no denying it.

His presence shone brighter than any other.

But compared to the Lucas I had known, the one I had played, the one who carved his way to the end of countless ruined routes…

He was still lacking….

That’s why—if Lucas was truly going to become the key character I needed him to be in the future—then I had to act fast.

Before his destiny slipped out of my control.

’Master!’

Lavine’s voice rang sharply in my head, her tone laced with irritation and… was that a hint of panic?

She was speaking through our telepathic link, her words a direct intrusion into my thoughts.

’What is it, Lavine?’

’How long am I supposed to play with this kid?’

’To the point where you stop calling him a kid.’

A strangled sound echoed through the link—half groan, half shriek.

’Ughwaak! T-this brat! He’s getting more absurd by the second! I knew something was off the moment I laid eyes on him, but this—this is unnatural! Did you always know he was like this, Master?’

Of course I knew.

I had lived through hundreds—no, thousands—of different playthroughs.

Different routes, different endings, different deaths.

I knew every possible outcome that Lucas could achieve. In truth, I knew him better than he knew himself.

Better than he could ever imagine.

But I couldn’t tell Lavine that.

Not yet.

’Just keep him busy for as long as possible. I’m still preparing everything on my end.’

’You—you’re insane! This kid might actually kill me, you know?!’

’Hm? Do I hear fear? I didn’t think the great Grand Magus Lavine even knew what that word meant.’

’….’

’You… know I’m not at full power right now, don’t you?’

’Yes. But tell me, is that really a valid excuse?’

’….’

’Want me to suck you dry, Master?’

I grimaced immediately.

That would be bad—terribly bad. If Lavine drained me of all my mana here, every delicate piece of preparation I’d been weaving would crumble in an instant.

’…Ahem. Well, anyway—just stall him as much as possible for now. He may be growing unpredictably stronger at the moment, but that’s exactly what I need. Keep him in check until you can’t anymore. I want him to push past every wall, every threshold. I need him to become as strong as possible.’

I let my tone soften, coaxing.

’Don’t worry—you can use whatever spells you want, as long as they don’t interfere with his current… zoned phase. As for mana, I’ll make it worth your while. Once this is over, I’ll allow you to roam freely around the Academy with your mana completely restored. A full week to explore in physical form, without limits. How’s that for an exchange?’

….

…..

…

’Promise?’

’Promise.’

’…Alright.’

The telepathic link cut off.

I exhaled through my nose, a small chuckle slipping out despite the tension. So—Lucas was giving her a harder time than she had ever expected. That in itself was telling.

Lavine was no ordinary force.

She was akin to Lucas in many ways—a walking cheat code, an anomaly, an existence that warped balance just by being alive.

Her arsenal of forbidden magics and her innate grasp of celestial and temporal law made her a nightmare opponent for almost anyone.

And yet… she was struggling.

That was the difference.

The thing that set Lucas apart wasn’t his sword, his divinity, or even the blessings draped on him like armor.

It was the relentless truth that he never stopped growing. No plateau, no ceiling—only an endless ascent.

By now, I was sure he had already grasped a collection of S-Ranked skills.

[Lord of Light] alone, combined with that holy sword in his hand, was enough to place him leagues above most powerhouses.

Just a few more levels, a handful of experiences, and he would smash through the peak of human limitations.

He would rise into something beyond.

The thought made me smile.

A quiet thrill burned in my chest.

I was excited.

To see hm close to his strongest…

“You—where are you taking me, you bastard!”

The scream ripped through the silence, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I glanced back casually.

The sound of iron links rattled against the stone floor as a chained young woman stumbled forward, tethered to me by cuffs that bound her wrists and a line of mana-forged chain wound into my palm.

Reina.

My dear little sister.

Her voice was loud, her glare sharp, but her steps were steady. She wasn’t trembling, she wasn’t breaking down in tears.

No—despite the ferocity of her tone, her eyes were coldly scanning the darkness, mapping the space, testing her footing.

Ever the cautious one.

Loud enough to sell panic, sharp enough to hide calculation.

I almost smiled. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Where am I? Where are my friends?” she demanded again, tugging at the restraints.

I didn’t bother answering.

She wouldn’t stop glaring anyway, and even if she pieced the truth together, her situation wouldn’t change.

The corridor around us was narrow and suffocating, the air thick with the faint scent of old stone and something metallic—iron, perhaps, or blood.

Only a dim glow from the runes etched into the walls allowed sight.

Enough to gauge the floor, the rough ground beneath our boots, the uneven stairs we climbed in silence.

The silence stretched, broken only by the echo of chains scraping with every step.

Minutes passed before we reached the top.

A heavy door waited.

I pressed my hand against it, and the runes embedded into the lock pulsed faintly before releasing with a dull click. The door swung open.

Reina’s eyes widened the moment the chamber beyond was revealed.

“—!!!”

A dark dome stretched above, the ceiling curved and shadowed, but the interior was pristine—unnervingly so.

The ground was covered in polished stone tiles, clean and reflecting faint light.

Against the far wall stood a small washroom corner, tidy and unobtrusive.

The center of the room was arranged with a sofa, two short chairs, and a table, like a perfectly normal living space transplanted into the heart of a dungeon.

And at the center, enclosed in a translucent crystalline case, rested a dress.

A single, pure white dress.

Its silken hems glimmered faintly, detailed with delicate garter patterns and intricate lace. It looked fragile, ceremonial, untouched by human hands—like it didn’t belong here.

I gestured lazily, ignoring the sharp look Reina shot me.

“The bathroom’s on the corner of the left side. You can make do with it as you please. You have three hours to prepare. Make sure you wear the dress I’ve prepared for you.”

Her breath hitched.

Wide eyes stared at me, unblinking, as if trying to confirm whether she had heard me correctly—or whether I had gone completely insane.

……

Haah…!

Ragged breaths tore out of him, each one harsher than the last.

His chest rose and fell violently, sweat dripping down his temples, soaking his shirt.

Every muscle screamed, every bone felt as if it had been cracked and shattered, his whole body trembling from the sheer strain of sustaining this impossible battle.

Lucas knew. He knew he was already at his limit.

His lungs burned for air, his legs quivered, and his sword grew heavier by the second.

His opponent wasn’t someone he could simply reach—not even with all his powers, not with everything he had been given.

And yet—

Thump…!

His heartbeat surged like a war drum inside his chest, pounding faster, louder, harder than ever before.

His body, despite its fatigue, rose again.

His will overpowered his exhaustion. His strength, once drained, began to crawl back from the depths.

Lucas clenched his teeth. This fight… it was impossible.

No matter how many times he tried, the demonic worshipper before him overwhelmed him.

Her magic, her techniques, her tricks—every tactic he had was countered, outdone, or dismissed.

The weight of her experience and raw arcane might smothered him like an unshakable darkness.

And still—his body refused to yield.

He stood. He rose again, sword in hand.

“Tsk…!” The woman clicked her tongue, her voice sharp yet tinged with irritation. “That was a direct special blast. Space itself should’ve folded you into ribbons, your limbs torn apart—and yet… you’re still standing. Hmph. Is your body… coated in that strange energy too? Not just resisting, but canceling?”

Her mutters echoed in the air, but Lucas barely heard them.

A groan escaped his lips—low, pained. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing.

How long has it been since I felt this…?

This boiling frustration, this gnawing fury.

The bitter edge of helplessness that burned deeper than any wound.

He had faced many walls before—giants he thought he couldn’t climb, trials meant to break him.

But this—this was different.

Different… and infuriating.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

“Take care of my sister for me…”

Those words echoed in his mind.

Riley’s voice, soft yet resolute.

That was the first time Lucas had seen sincerity reflected so deeply in his eyes.

It was more than just a request—it had been a vow entrusted to him.

A promise.

A knight’s vow.

His chest burned hotter. His memories flashed with Reina’s face, and the faces of all his juniors waiting to be saved.

That’s right… Reina… everyone else.

’I swore to protect them. I can’t—no, I won’t—fail them.’

There was no path but forward.

No outcome but victory.

His body trembled as he stepped forward, but not from weakness—his aura ignited, rising in waves that made the air itself bend and quake.

A faint, radiant glow shimmered above his head, hollow yet blinding, like a crown descending from the heavens.

A Halo.

[Divine Transcendence — Unlocked!]

[Angel’s Grace — Activated!]

The world shifted.

The ground beneath cracked from the pressure of his presence, while light—pure, sacred light—poured off him like cascading feathers of gold.

His aura howled like a storm, devouring the shadows and bending space itself around his figure.

Lavine froze.

Lucas’s eyes locked on to her.

And before she realized it….

VOOOSHHHHH!!!!!

She felt a hand gripping her throat tightly….

“Ugh, !????”

Ignoring every possible defense magic she already set in place.

In front of her was Lucas’s cold gaze.

“Now tell me…. where are my juniors… Demonic worshipper….”