How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 549: Hero...
Chapter 549: Hero…
“Uguokakakaka!”
“Raksala Kulkul!”
“GAHAHAHA!”
Grotesque, scrabbling noises reverberated through the cavern, the echoes bouncing off the jagged stone walls like distorted laughter.
Each sound was accompanied by the thundering stomp of heavy footsteps, the ground trembling faintly beneath their weight.
Somewhere beyond the darkness, drums began to pound.
Not rhythmic in a human sense—no, this was primal, chaotic, more akin to a celebration of savagery.
It was the sound of a gathering, a ritual, or perhaps simply… a feast.
And she was the price.
Crumble.
Her fingers twitched first, brushing against the cold, unyielding ground.
Slowly, Vanessa’s hand tightened, nails digging into the dark stone as if to anchor herself in reality. With a quiet, weary groan, she forced her eyelids open.
Her long, delicate lashes trembled as lightless green eyes adjusted to the dim glow of torches burning in crude sconces along the cavern walls. Her chest rose and fell in a tired sigh.
’No contact…’
Her pointed ears twitched faintly, listening—always listening. Born an elven princess, she carried more than a crown upon her head.
She had been blessed since birth with the sacred essence of the World Tree.
It flowed in her blood, in her soul, tying her existence to the very roots of the world itself.
As one of the chosen few of her bloodline, she should have always been able to reach out—to feel the living breath of nature anywhere in this realm.
But now…
There was nothing.
“…There goes that plan, I guess.”
Of course, she knew the truth already.
Even if she had managed to draw upon the World Tree’s infinite well, the distance and warped nature of this place would have bled it dry before it reached her.
Dungeons weren’t mere caves; they were sealed dimensions of their own, cut off from the flow of the world.
A crumb of energy slipping through the cracks would mean nothing against the monsters that lurked here.
Still, the realization left her chest hollow.
She sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in her limbs.
Her hair, usually pristine, now clung in disheveled strands to her pale face.
The scent of smoke, iron, and something far fouler clung to the cavern air.
Orcs.
“…Looks like I’ll have to gamble with whatever I still have left.”
She glanced around the tent she’d been thrown into.
Even though it was pitch-black, her elven bloodline made the shadows meaningless—night vision came as naturally to her as breathing.
The place was cramped, smelling of damp leather and stale sweat.
There wasn’t much inside. Just a rough, fur-patched blanket, two heavy wooden clubs, and an oversized iron helmet—each piece nearly useless to her.
The clubs were thicker than her arms and taller than her body, and the helmet looked like it could swallow her whole.
She was no warrior, and she knew it.
A mage’s strength didn’t lie in brute force.
Still, she couldn’t deny the slight agility in her body, a quickness that had saved her more than once.
“I hope Emymy’s safe at least…”
Her thoughts clung to her best friend Emilia.
The girl with a smile too soft and too innocent for this brutal world.
Emilia had power, she had protection, yet the ambush had been too sudden, too overwhelming.
For the first time, Vanessa wasn’t sure if even Emilia’s blessing could shield her from what had happened out there.
Not knowing what was going on at Emilia’s side twisted her chest, but at least… she was the one dealing with these disgusting orcs instead of her.
Clank… clank…
The sound of her chains echoed each time she shifted.
She tugged them absentmindedly while her eyes searched for something—anything—she could use.
But the tent was barren, hopeless.
Her mind drifted, unbidden, to her mother’s words:
“Vanessa… that is your birthright. But without the Great One’s permission, using it will carve consequences into your very soul.”
She swallowed hard.
Even now, she could feel it—a faint thrum, something ancient and dangerous resting deep inside her core, waiting.
Her last trump card.
A power she had promised herself never to touch until she had the World Tree’s full blessing.
Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed it against her chest.
“…Should I just force it?”
It was a viable option, considering her situation.
She hesitated, her chest tightening.
Every instinct screamed to wait, to be cautious, to cling to the warnings her mother left her.
But hesitation meant nothing when shackles dug into her wrists and the stink of orcs filled the air.
She had no other options.
They say consequences are the tolls you pay when gambling for guarantees.
That caution exists only to chain ambition before it devours itself.
But when one’s very life is on the line… hesitation is a luxury.
She needed every scrap of strength she had.
“KULKALL BASDAHGH!!!”
The guttural roar of the orc chieftain bled through the tent walls.
His voice was thick with hunger, with arrogance, with the promise of violence.
Her heart clenched.
The beast would come for her soon—there was no mistaking that.
She sighed softly, nerves prickling across her skin.
Closing her eyes, she steadied her breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
One rhythm at a time. She calmed herself, then let her soul sink inward.
A suffocating energy spread over her skin, weighing her body down like chains within chains.
She pressed deeper, reaching into the hidden core of herself.
Her eyes snapped open—not in the tent, but in a realm beyond flesh.
The veil of her spirit peeled back, revealing her astral form adrift in the ocean of her soul.
The place was familiar.
Endless, black water stretched in every direction, a crushing abyss that wanted to drag her down, to swallow her whole.
Just like when she was a child, she knew she had only a few minutes before the depths tore her apart.
Still, she pressed forward. Her body floated gently through the pressure, her green eyes fixed on the distant glow. A figure, massive and slumbering, lay curled within the abyss.
The closer she drifted, the more the waters themselves seemed to churn and resist.
Finally, her bare feet touched solid ground—a luminous emerald platform that seemed to exist only for this meeting.
The figure stirred.
Two vertical pupils, vast as gates, opened within the light.
They blazed with a cruel beauty—carved in green and gold, their gaze was endless.
Its glare, burning orange at the edges, pierced straight through her soul.
Her heart skipped a beat.
[ ……Little elf. ]
The voice was not heard but carved into her mind, each word pressing against her skull with unbearable weight.
She winced but stood firm, forcing her trembling hands to her chest. “I greet you once again… oh great lord…”
The colossal eyes blinked slowly.
[ You have grown. ]
“Yes… it has been ten years since my last visit, great lord…”
[ I see… ] The voice rumbled, as if the entire abyss quivered with it. [ Are you willing to take on the contract now, little elf? ]
Her throat tightened. She shook her head quickly, lowering her gaze in dismay. “Forgive my rudeness, oh great one, but… I am still far from ready.”
Silence pressed against her like the weight of the ocean itself.
[ Then for what reason do you disturb my slumber? ]
Her hands clenched against her chest. Her eyes, though wavering, held firm.
“I… I need your help.”
[ … Help…? ]
“I need your power…”
[…. You beg for my power…]
[…..Yet you prove yourself incapable of wielding it. ]
“Even if it’s just a portion—please! Please help me, oh great lord!”
[ My power carries permanent consequences. Such words as yours… only a fool would utter. ]
“……”
[Tell me—what reason is there that I should grant you such a thing? ]
Vanessa grimaced.
Every word pierced her, but she couldn’t deny their truth.
He was right.
She wasn’t ready, wasn’t strong enough, and yet… there was one thing that bound them, one truth neither could escape.
Her voice trembled, but she forced it out.
“You… are my birthright.”
Silence.
An endless, suffocating silence stretched on.
Seconds crawled like minutes, pressing against her chest until she thought her ribs would crack.
Then it came.
A crushing pressure, suffocating and merciless, slammed into her body.
Her knees buckled instantly, forcing her down to the emerald ground of her soulscape.
She gasped, spine bent, arms trembling as though the entire ocean above was pressing against her alone.
The great being loomed closer, its vertical pupils narrowing, glowing with cold disinterest.
[Fool.]
The single word carved itself into her mind, echoing like the toll of a death knell.
And then—
“—Haah! Haah…!”
Her lungs burned as she sucked in air, her vision snapping back to the dark, filthy interior of the tent.
She collapsed onto the dirt floor, her chains rattling with the sudden movement.
Cold sweat slicked her back, dripping down her face as her trembling hands clawed at the earth to steady herself.
She realized it immediately.
She had been thrown out.
“…I’m… back?”
Her voice was hoarse, disbelieving.
The weight of it sank into her chest.
The great one had rejected her.
Right now her trump card wasn’t an option—forcing it again would only kill her.
She had to think fast, anything to get out of this situation.
“I need to—”
Her thought cut off abruptly. Something tiny caught her eye.
A small hamster, translucent and glimmering, its body made entirely out of water, was slowly climbing up the hem of her ragged robe.
Its little paws left ripples with every step.
“A… water spirit?”
She whispered in disbelief, gently scooping it into her hands.
The creature blinked up at her with round, liquid eyes, harmless, almost cute.
For a moment, her panic stilled.
She tilted her head in confusion—until realization struck like lightning.
BOOOOOOMMMM!!!
VOOOSHHHH!!!
BOOOOMMMMM!!!
The world outside erupted.
The ground trembled violently, dust raining from the seams of the tent.
Explosions shattered the air one after another, louder and closer each second.
“GRAGHHH!”
“KULLLLACCCK!!”
“AUGHHHKAA!!!”
The monstrous cries of orcs split the night as they screeched and bellowed in pain.
Vanessa’s eyes widened—the spirits weren’t here for nothing.
Something was tearing through the camp.
She braced herself, knees wobbling as the earth quaked beneath her, chains rattling against her wrists.
Her body still hadn’t fully recovered from being forced out of her spiritual world—her strength was like smoke, slipping away whenever she tried to hold it.
Creak…
The tent flap shifted, opening as if none of the chaos outside mattered.
Vanessa froze.
“Halo~ are you alright, Vanessa?”
“Flamme?”
There she was—Flamme—stepping into the tent with that same casual smirk, her figure haloed by the flicker of firelight.
Around her floated a handful of spirits, water and flame both, swirling like loyal pets at her side.
“It’s a good thing Senior and I split up,” Flamme said breezily, dusting her hands as if she hadn’t just caused an earthquake outside. “Looks like they haven’t touched you yet. Saw it right outside.”
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a bundle of clothes toward Vanessa.
The fabric landed in her lap, her own equipment, familiar and reassuring.
“Hurry up and dress,” Flamme said with a grin that was both playful and sharp. “We’ve got an idiot and a stupid blonde bitch to save~.”
“Ah… yeah?”
Vanessa blinked, still half-dazed.
