How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game - Chapter 585: Continental Festival 10
Chapter 585: Continental Festival 10
In the academy, countless things were always running quietly in the background.
Subtle movements, unspoken routines, and silent power struggles—things most students never noticed, much less cared about.
But for someone like Kagami, such hidden undercurrents had become part of daily life.
“Let go of me, you bastard! There’s no way I’ll embarrass myself in front of so many—”
The struggling voice was cut short with a sharp thud. Kagami’s hand moved almost lazily, delivering a precise chop to the back of the boy’s neck. The student’s body went limp in an instant.
“Seriously…” Kagami muttered, his tone laced with irritation. “Why do these idiots always show up during the most important times?”
He let out a long sigh and adjusted the unconscious student slung over his shoulder.
The boy was larger than most of his peers, but Kagami carried him with one hand as if he weighed no more than a sack of grain.
His calm, effortless strength made the whole scene feel almost routine.
As the head of the disciplinary committee within the student council, Kagami’s duty wasn’t just about chasing down rule-breakers.
He was part of the academy’s inner machinery—working alongside security and staff to make sure safety protocols stayed intact, especially now, with the continental festival drawing closer.
The academy couldn’t afford chaos, not when foreign students and dignitaries were already arriving.
Trouble was expected. He had prepared himself for it.
But what he hadn’t anticipated was that so much of it would come from his own academy peers.
He tightened his grip on the unconscious student, his sharp eyes narrowing.
“Is that kid also from Class-D, Kagami?”
The voice came from above. Kagami looked up as a shadow cut across the morning light.
A figure landed neatly on the rooftop beside him, the coat of her academy guardian uniform fluttering in the breeze.
Black hat, long trench coat, sword strapped at her hip—it was none other than Captain Elara, one of the academy’s knight officers.
He adjusted his grip on the unconscious student and answered plainly.
“No. This one’s from Class-B.”
Elara raised a brow, a small smirk playing on her lips.
“Haha, so even mid-ranked students are starting to crack under the pressure, huh? I can’t say I blame them. Who could’ve predicted the principal would suddenly announce a free-for-all team battle royale? And on top of that, forcing even the ones outside the top ten in each department to take part. It almost feels like the evaluation battle exam all over again.”
Kagami exhaled through his nose.
“It’s not exactly the same, Captain. The details will be revealed during the event itself. But… yeah, I get why some of them are panicking. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t want to humiliate myself in front of the entire continent either.”
“That’s true.” Elara’s smirk softened into something closer to sympathy. “But that’s the role you S-Class students play, isn’t it? The academy’s stars—the highlight everyone’s coming to see.”
Kagami didn’t reply.
His sharp eyes scanned the horizon instead.
He had no interest in being anyone’s spectacle, but words like that had long since stopped bothering him.
“Anyway,” Elara said, stepping closer, “hand that one over to me. I’ll deal with him from here. I’m sure a student like you has enough on his plate already. Consider it an early leave for the day.”
Kagami hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure, Captain?”
“Yes,” she replied without missing a beat. “I’ve already reported the matter to the student council president. You’re clear.”
“…Alright.”
With one hand, Kagami passed the unconscious Class-B student to her.
Elara accepted the dead weight effortlessly, her trench coat swaying with the shift in balance.
Kagami gave her a curt nod before turning away, his boots making a steady sound against the tiles as he walked further along the rooftops, his eyes looking at bit worried as her looked at the gigantic projected timer on top at the newly rebuilt clocktower.
Elara watched him go for a moment, then glanced at the fainted boy on her shoulder.
“Even the strong ones are nervous, huh?”
…
Flying across the rooftops, Kagami’s figure cut swiftly through the cool morning air.
From his vantage point, he could see the bustling crowd down below in the commercial district.
Merchants shouted their wares, bright banners fluttered in the wind, and foreign visitors mingled with academy locals and students alike.
The entire city seemed to be brimming with energy, the air practically buzzing with anticipation for the academy’s biggest event of the century.
Kagami’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
For once, the noise and chatter below didn’t annoy him. Everyone was preparing, consciously or not, for history in the making.
To him, the entire festival was little more than a political stage play—a grand show of power between the academies, their sponsors, and the nations behind them.
He wasn’t naïve.
He knew the festival was as much about politics as it was about celebrating talent.
But that didn’t matter. Hidden beneath all the pomp and pretense, there were benefits.
Opportunities.
Stages where true strength could not only be tested, but seen.
His eyes flicked to the projected timer that glowed faintly on the hovering crystal monitors scattered across the city.
Two more days until the official start… and a full week until the end.
The announcement that the festival had been extended from three days to seven still lingered in his mind.
For most, it meant more stress, more pressure, more battles to survive.
But for him, it stirred something else—excitement.
Because even if he lost somewhere along the way… the sheer number of challenges ahead would be more than enough for him to showcase the one thing he took the most pride in: his family’s martial art, the Meteor Fist.
A legacy passed down through generations, polished through blood, sweat, and endless hours of repetition.
For too long it had been overshadowed by flashy spells and divine weapons, forgotten amidst the brilliance of magic.
But now, with the entire continent watching, it was finally going to be placed where it belonged—in the public eye.
Kagami clenched his fist briefly, feeling the familiar warmth of power ripple through his arm. Despite his heavy duties as a student council officer, he never neglected his training.
Not once. Every single day he pushed himself, his body, and his fists to the brink.
And more often than not, that training was alongside a certain monster of a person—someone who had pushed him beyond limits he thought he’d already surpassed.
The memory made his lips tighten into a grin.
The first day of the event would involve the top students from the foreign academies, a gathering of so-called elites who had traveled across borders to test their strength.
Kagami remembered the brief encounters back at Killian Hall when the foreign students were first introduced. He had already gauged them, weighed them, and in his mind, dismissed them.
“There’s no way those scrubs would defeat me…”
…
The Continental Grand Festival had finally begun.
“Ugh… fuck…!”
Kagami’s body slammed against a towering crystal pillar, the impact shaking the ground beneath his feet.
Blood spilled from his lips, staining his chin, and his chest burned with sharp agony.
A glowing emerald arrow jutted out from just above his heart, its aura still humming with the residual magic of the shot.
The crystal behind him groaned and cracked under the pressure, spiderwebbing fractures spreading outward.
His limbs refused to move. His body wouldn’t listen.
Across from him, two elegant figures stepped forward.
Both bore long ears and a grace that felt almost alien to the academy’s grounds.
The elves moved with the fluidity of a flowing river, their presence calm yet suffocating.
“Hmm. I was expecting something more impressive from one of the academy’s top students,” Fay muttered, lowering her bow with a faint sigh.
Her partner beside her—taller, sterner, clad in light silver armor that glimmered under the forest’s magical lights—gave her a sharp glance.
“Mind your words, Fay. The warrior before us didn’t fall because he was weak. He lacked the necessary teammates to survive. Alone, even the strongest can stumble.”
“…I guess that’s true.” Fay’s expression softened, and she actually bowed her head lightly toward him. “I apologize for my rudeness, mighty warrior. Your fists… they were truly amazing.”
Kagami could only laugh bitterly, though the sound came out ragged and wet with blood.
Amazing, huh…? He had trained for years, carried his family’s martial art with pride, and yet—what good was that pride when he couldn’t even force them to break a sweat?
The duel hadn’t been fair.
It never was.
Their relentless rain of arrows and spells from a distance had left him with no opening to close the gap.
Each time he thought he’d found a chance, the ground beneath him had twisted with roots or another volley of glowing arrows would drive him back.
His Meteor Fist, the technique he swore would shake the heavens, could only meet thin air and shimmering barriers.
And now here he was, pinned against a pillar like a broken doll.
“You were a formidable opponent, great warrior,” Melan said with a solemn tone, his hand resting briefly over his chest in a gesture of respect. His eyes didn’t look down on Kagami—they looked at him as an equal, which somehow stung even more. “I hope fate allows us to battle again one day.”
With that, he placed a hand against the crystal Kagami was slumped on.
A crackle of magic surged, and the pillar shattered behind him, consuming Kagami’s body in a burst of light.
The Celestial Bracelet at his wrist activated, its divine glow wrapping around his battered form.
His body began to fade, pulled away from the battlefield toward the academy infirmary.
He wasn’t dead—no one truly died in these sanctioned duels—but the sting of humiliation was sharper than any wound.
Damn it… to think I’d lose like this. And so easily, at that…
[Team G Leader Kagami Kento has been Eliminated!]
[Team G Mana Crystal Core has been destroyed!!!]
[Team G Eliminated.]
[Surviving members (2/10) are now automatically disqualified.]
[Team Forest has gained +1000 points!]
The loud mechanical voice of the system echoed across the battlefield, followed by the flickering display of the scoreboard hovering above the arena.
The glowing crystal fragments that once represented Team G vanished from the sky, leaving only a faint ripple of light.
Satisfied with the results, Melan exhaled slowly, lowering his hand from the shattered pillar. His emerald eyes studied the notification one last time before he gave a small nod of approval.
“That should push us further up the rankings,”
Beside him, Fay twirled her bow absentmindedly, her long ears swaying with barely contained energy. Her lips curved into a mischievous grin.
“Brother, are we going after the princess now? She’s worth more than a thousand points, and defeating her would give us the spotlight.”
Melan’s sharp gaze slid toward her, silencing her excitement with a glance. “No. Unlike the lone warrior we faced just now, she’s not isolated. She’s fighting alongside another of the academy’s top students. Facing them head-on would be reckless. Even we would risk being crushed if we charge blindly.”
Fay pouted but nodded, her fingers tapping her bowstring like an impatient child denied candy. “Then where should we go?”
Melan didn’t answer immediately.
He lifted his gaze toward the hovering scoreboard above the central coliseum, the massive glowing board displaying names, points, and rankings for all to see.
His eyes traced down the list before stopping on a single line that gleamed brighter than all others.
[Rank 1—Team Hell]
For a brief moment, Melan’s emerald eyes flickered with a dangerous light.
His grip on his bow tightened ever so slightly, the wood creaking under the pressure.
“That team…” he said softly, almost to himself. Then louder: “They are the ones I am most curious about. If there is a group worth testing our strength against, it’s them.”
Fay blinked, her earlier impatience replaced with intrigue. “Team Hell? Aren’t they the ones who crushed three teams in under ten minutes? They’re monsters.”
“Exactly,” Melan replied, his tone resolute. “If we want to measure the true limits of our strength, it won’t be against the princess or the academy’s golden children. It will be against them.”
“But what about our crystal?”
Fay asked, glancing back at the glowing emerald sphere their team had been protecting, the symbol of their survival.
“Leaving it unattended would be suicide.”
“We’ve already cleared most opponents in this sector. It’s safe for now. Still—” He tilted his head slightly, his long hair swaying with the motion. “—send word to Elnoah. He should carry it with him while we move. And recall the reconnaissance unit immediately. We’ll need their eyes on the field.”
“As you command, Brother.” Fay bowed lightly before pressing a hand to the ground.
A swirl of glowing petals enveloped her form, and in the next heartbeat, her body dissipated into the wind, leaving behind nothing but a faint trail of floral light.
Melan remained alone for a moment, his gaze fixed once more on the scoreboard.
His reflection shimmered faintly in the light of the hovering board, and for the first time, his lips curved upward—not in satisfaction, but in anticipation.
