How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 551: Hero....!
Chapter 551: Hero….!
FOOOOSHHHH!!!
A streak of light—blinding, as radiant as the sun’s own spears—ripped across the dungeon skies.
The dark cavern, once an eternal void, cracked under the sheer brilliance.
Inside the deepest pits, where nothing but shadows had ever breathed, a searing blaze ignited everything.
HOOOO…!!!
SWIIISSHHH!!!
SWOOOSHHHH!!!
The monsters shrieked.
Creatures that had lived their entire lives blind in the abyss froze, their instincts breaking under the storm of radiance.
And then—slaughter.
The figure of light blurred past them, faster than their eyes could follow, tearing them apart like hot knives through frozen butter.
Limbs fell before their screams even formed.
Lucas didn’t even need to strike anymore.
The holy sword sang for him, its edge cutting through air, through flesh, through spirit itself.
Monsters fell in droves—those that crawled on the ground, those that soared in the air—none of them escaped the holy brilliance that refused to dim.
He carved down every last one.
[Their traces lie within this very realm, Master.]
The voice of the holy sword rang in his skull. Lucas’s golden eyes narrowed, a hunter’s gaze piercing the writhing darkness.
He searched, but all he saw was the endless tide of beasts.
Just blood and ash.
“Are you sure they’re here?”
[Yes… though their presence is masked… no—it is scattered.]
Lucas’s jaw clenched.
The divine fire roaring in his veins felt absolute, limitless.
Yet—why did he feel so powerless?
So damned useless?
“Then where—”
GRAAAGHHHH!!!
A monster’s death-cry cut him short.
Lucas plunged down, his blade spearing through its skull, light exploding out as the creature’s body split apart.
He landed slowly, feathers of white radiance spilling from him, cascading across the mountains of corpses he’d made.
The stink of death filled the chamber.
Black blood soaked into the stone.
He raised his hand, spreading his divinity like a tidal wave, hunting for a trace, a whisper—anything.
Nothing.
No Stacia. No Reina. No Emilia.
Only silence.
“I shouldn’t have let that demonic worshipper go…”
Lucas mumbled, his voice cracking with frustration.
Even in his haze, he knew it had been a mistake.
To let himself get distracted, even for a heartbeat, was enough.
Enough for that twisted servant of darkness to slip through his fingers.
Foolish.
Unforgivable.
[Your actions were enough, Master… it is simply unfortunate the enemy was very tricky.]
The sword’s words did nothing to ease the burning in his chest.
Lucas clenched his teeth. He couldn’t afford to waste another moment.
He didn’t even know where this overwhelming strength inside him came from—only that it wasn’t endless.
It was burning through him faster than he realized, and if he didn’t move now… if he didn’t find them soon…
Time would devour him before the dungeon did.
Stacia. Reina. Emilia. Vanessa. Flamme.
He swore he would protect them.
It had been the right choice to split from Flamme.
If they had stayed together in this twisted bait of a labyrinth.
Even from here, he felt it—the faint trace of the divinity he’d entrusted to her.
Like an invisible thread pulling tight, it brushed against something else, someone else.
Vanessa.
A strange resonance.
As though part of him could feel her, see her, touch her, despite the impossible distance.
Lucas lifted his hand. White divinity pooled in his palm, pulsing, breathing under his will.
With every beat, feathers spilled from it—pure and radiant—drifting down like snow melting into nothing.
His chest tightened. His lips parted.
“Do you know what’s happening to me?”
The holy sword was silent for a long moment. Then its voice echoed.
[…This is the prize—and the burden—of your birth, Master.]
Lucas’s brows furrowed.
The words twisted around him like chains he couldn’t see, couldn’t understand.
What did it mean? What truth was buried in that riddle?
He wanted to demand answers, but he knew better.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
There was no point pressing.
He gripped the holy sword tighter, knuckles whitening around its hilt.
The blade thrummed in his hands, and his aura spread outward, flooding the black plains with blinding radiance.
Darkness recoiled, peeling back under the weight of his light.
“Have you found out anything?”
[….. Based on the energy traces left, the mana here has been laced with the same frequency as your missing juniors, Master… but it is too far-spread, too wide to pin down.]
Lucas’s jaw tightened. His thoughts sharpened into a single, grim conclusion.
“So this place was bait…’”
[Yes… the signs are faint, but I can feel traces of celestial magic interwoven within the monsters inhabiting these plains.]
Lucas had already begun to notice it himself.
Every time he cleaved through the endless horde, every time he cut down another beast, that same foul, mocking sensation stirred.
As if the demonic nun worshipper were still here—faint whispers of her existence tangled in their flesh.
Right now his senses were stretched so wide he felt he could perceive nearly anything.
The pulse of mana, the weight of life, the tremors of hidden spells.
And yet—no matter how far he reached, no matter how he strained—he couldn’t feel them.
His gaze turned east.
His pupils flared with golden light, vision piercing the horizon.
There, beyond the swarming dark, he saw it: a single red glow.
Distant, small as a dot, but burning unnaturally against the void. In all this suffocating night, it was the only natural light.
And it bled mana.
Not just a trickle—an ocean. It churned, leaking into the plains, feeding the dungeon itself.
The core had to be there.
But behind that veil of energy… something else pulsed.
Not the cold of the abyss.
Not the hollow hunger of the monsters.
Something hotter….???
“Do you notice anything in that area?”
[Negative… the energy is too faint for me to assess. Master is free to act as he pleases, but pressing matters remain at hand.]
“…Then has the goddess sent another form of guidance?”
[No.]
“Can you at least feel the Saintess?”.
[Yes… she is all around us.]
Lucas froze. His grip on the sword trembled for a fraction of a second.
All around us?
The words echoed through his skull like a curse. His breath steadied, but his mind refused calm.
If the holy sword was as confused as he was, then what did it mean?
That the Saintess was spread across this dungeon?
That her presence had been scattered, like dust in the air?
Seeing as staying here was bound to get him nowhere, Lucas drew in a long breath and spread his mana as far as he could.
White energy cascaded outward like a storm, brushing against the walls of this cursed floor, feeling for every crack, every hidden chamber.
Then, just as quickly, he constricted it, pulling the tide back into himself until his aura was compressed into a razor’s edge.
He didn’t know how vast the dimensionality of this tenth floor truly was.
But if he had to scour every crevice of this abyss, every corner, every shadow—he would.
The holy sword pulsed, answering his will, ready to ignite divinity and mana as one.
And then—
“Fufufu~”
The mocking lilt slithered into his ears.
Lucas froze.
A voice he knew too well.
“…You.”
“Hello~ Did you miss me?”
The nun floated above him, draped in the suffocating shroud of dark skies.
Her silhouette shimmered, faint circles of celestial magic spinning lazily around her, stardust trailing from her hands like a cruel imitation of light.
Lucas’s grip on his sword tightened until the hilt groaned.
“Uh-uh~”
Her sing-song voice cut him off. She pointed down at him, fingers curling sideways like a dagger poised to twist.
“Move… and they will surely get it~”
With a flourish, she spread her palm. Two translucent screens tore open in the air, crackling with faint light.
Lucas’s breath caught.
On them—
Reina and Emilia.
The image was hazy, blurred like a dream, but clear enough to see their faces.
Flushed, glistening with sweat, eyes wet with tears.
Their breathing hitched and ragged, lips parted as though choked between sobs and gasps.
Their bodies trembled, collapsing in on themselves in a haze of humiliation and suffering.
Lucas’s thoughts collapsed into static.
His heart lurched, rage and terror choking him all at once.
VOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Power erupted out of him, divinity flooding the plains in a single violent sweep.
The earth cracked.
The air screamed.
Mountains of corpses around him liquefied into pulp beneath the weight of his unleashed fury.
The nun only laughed.
If not for the celestial reverse-gravity cocoon shielding her, she would have been obliterated where she floated.
Instead, she hovered effortlessly, a smirk etched across her lips.
“Fufu~ now now… don’t get too excited.”
She wagged her finger mockingly, her eyes glowing like twin pits of amusement.
“We aren’t even at the climax yet… oh, dear hero~”
Her words dripped like poison, taunting, dangling cruelty before him like bait.
……..
“P-Please stoop… ah… n-no more… please~”
“Hhhhnngh—ahhh, shh-stop! P-please, I—I won’t be able to hold back—ahhhhnngh~”
“I-I can’t… p-please…!”
Two hazy, breathless voices burned into my ears.
Their faces—once filled with fear, concern, and that righteous glare—were now ruined with tears and flushed with humiliation.
Every twitch, every cry, every stutter just dragged them deeper into shame.
They begged.
They whimpered.
They wanted me to stop.
I didn’t.
The glowing white feather in my hand brushed against their skin again, and the results were just too perfect to resist.
Emilia jolted every time I teased under her armpits, her whole body trembling as she desperately bit her lip, trying not to break—only to burst into helpless giggles a second later.
Reina thrashed even harder, her composure shattered completely as she shrieked with laughter when I stroked her neck and legs.
They couldn’t fight it.
Not right now.
Not against me.
[White Dragon’s Feather]
A neat little tooltip floated in the back of my mind.
A B-ranked item.
Nothing flashy.
Just a wonderful “relationship booster item” for Seo’s route.
An item that turned any touch into unbearable ticklishness.
Supposed to be harmless.
Cute, even.
“Ahahahaha—s-stop!!” Emilia squealed, her cheeks glowing bright.
“Hehehehehh—n-no, I-I can’t—!” Reina begged through desperate laughter.
I couldn’t stop the slow grin stretching across my face.
Their flushed expressions, their helpless giggles, the way they writhed and trembled—it was intoxicating.
Who would’ve thought? Teasing my sister and a supposed heroine like this… watching them come apart under nothing but a feather… was this much fun?
’I should use this with the other girls next time…’
