How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

“Looks like you got quite busy yesterday…” Beon muttered, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

Riley blinked, then instinctively pulled at the collar of his white, baggy shirt—but it was too late. Beon had already seen it.

“…Well,” Riley started, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “the girls got a bit excited. It was our first date together with everyone so—”

“Shut it, brat. I can already see that,” Beon cut him off, scoffing as his gaze swept briefly toward the red mark peeking out from beneath the gap in Riley’s scarf and shirt. “Tch… you’re lucky that thing’s loose, or you’d be walking around the estate looking like you got attacked by a mana leech.”

Riley coughed into his hand, barely holding back a laugh.

“I don’t mind you having fun with your girls every now and then,” Beon continued, his voice rough but lacking the edge it once had. “But try and appoint it at proper times, will you? You do remember you’ve got a test today, right? You should’ve gotten actual rest.”

“I did get some rest,” Riley replied, feigning innocence as he adjusted his scarf slightly to hide more of the mark.

Beon raised an eyebrow. “Haah… with how many marks are probably scattered across your body right now, I doubt you got even a wink of sleep.”

“…Hahaha.” Riley chuckled awkwardly, scratching his cheek. Internally, he was amused. Beon wasn’t wrong—last night had been exhausting in its own… affectionate way. But also fulfilling.

Still, he could tell—though Beon’s words were gruff, the older man wasn’t nearly as hostile about the harem situation as before.

In fact, despite his constant complaints and sharp tongue, Beon hadn’t once truly reprimanded Riley for his relationships—not even when it involved his own granddaughter.

There was something about that.

‘Maybe he’s just accepted it after I beat him… or maybe he’s warmed up to me a bit more than he lets on…’ Riley thought with a small smirk.

Or maybe… it was both.

He glanced at Beon, who was already walking ahead, muttering something under his breath as he waved Riley to follow.

“You coming, brat? If you collapse before getting in the dungeon, I’m dragging your body back and tossing it in the snow as a lesson.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, old man…” Riley said as he caught up.

As the two of them reached the cave, about six kilometers from Hamen City, they stood at the edge of the snowy peaks, the cold wind biting at their faces.

Riley’s boots crunched softly against the ice-covered ground as he stepped forward, staring into the dark, cavern-like hall that stretched into the mountain.

It was massive—far larger than he expected.

The entrance alone looked like the open jaws of some ancient beast, and a faint, unnatural breeze seeped out from within.

He blinked a few times, taken aback.

“…This place… I didn’t even know something like this existed around here. Let alone a dungeon.”

His voice echoed faintly against the stone walls.

“Did you… make this yourself, Master?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Beon gave a small grin. “Was it that obvious?”

“Not really,” Riley said, narrowing his eyes. “I can tell the dungeon formed naturally. But… something feels off. It’s subtle, but the flow of the mana, the pressure in the air—it’s different.”

Beon chuckled under his breath. “Good. At least your senses haven’t dulled. You’re right. This place is a natural dungeon—one that’s probably been abandoned and untouched for years. I just… modified it a little.”

Riley turned to face him. “Why?”

“To make things fair, of course,” Beon said plainly. “There’s no way I could test you in its original state. You’d tear through it like it was made of paper with your current strength.”

“But… I can’t use mana, right?”

Beon shrugged. “I doubt that’ll matter in your case.”

He crossed his arms, eyes sharpening a bit.

“From this point on, you’re on your own. This is a practical exam, not a stroll through the woods. There are only two rules. One—you’re not allowed to use mana under any circumstances. Two—you need to clear the dungeon before the sun sets. Got it?”

Riley exhaled through his nose and gave a small nod, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

It did feel a bit unfair… but at the same time, he couldn’t complain.

Beon clearly held him to a different standard, and in a weird way, that was flattering.

Still… would’ve been nice if he actually told me what he changed inside.

But knowing his master, he wasn’t going to get a straight answer anytime soon.

“Since the compact mana inside the dungeon makes it harder for me to sense if you’re using mana or not,” Beon said, arms still crossed, “I asked Bom to keep an eye on you from a distance. Quietly. So don’t even think about cheating, brat.”

“…Yeah, yeah,” Riley muttered, waving his hand lazily.

Somehow, every time he talked to his master, it felt like he was dealing with a stubborn kid, not some old geezer who could level mountains.

Though, to be fair, with that youthful face of his, Beon really did look more like an older brother than a so-called grandpa—at least on the outside.

Riley shook off the thought and focused again on the cave’s entrance, his gaze narrowing slightly.

So big sis Bom is somewhere nearby, huh?

He tried to scan his surroundings, but as expected, there was no sign of her at all.

Not even a flicker of presence.

Of course, without mana sensing, it was like walking blind—but even then, this was Bom they were talking about. She could erase her presence better than anyone he knew.

Guess I’ll need to learn a new detection skill or two soon…

Not that it would matter once he ascended—at that level, most skills stopped making a difference anyway.

But still, having at least one reliable way to sense things in his normal state wouldn’t hurt.

“Now then,” Beon said with a smirk, stepping back, “go have some fun inside the dungeon, you brat.”

Riley exhaled calmly, centering himself as he stepped forward into the cave’s mouth.

The air shifted. A dense pressure suddenly wrapped around him as mana surged through the walls.

A red, blushing dark aura coiled loosely around his body, and just like that, the scenery around him began to change.

“…A field-type dungeon, huh?”

The world inside was nothing like the narrow cave he entered.

Towering, broken grey walls stretched out on both sides of him, some slanted or half-collapsed, like old ruins forgotten by time.

The ground beneath his feet was made of the same worn stone, cracked in places but still holding strong.

He glanced up.

There was no proper ceiling, just a dull, cloudy sky hanging overhead, like the whole thing was sealed off inside a giant stone box.

Climbing out wasn’t going to be an option.

“A maze-type, then…”

If that was the case, he didn’t have much choice.

With a quiet sigh, Riley adjusted his footing and began to walk forward—one hand casually brushing against the wall beside him.

Usually, in maze-type dungeons, the main problem was the traps—obvious ones laid out like bait, or the kind you don’t notice until you’re already bleeding.

Even though the walls here weren’t that narrow, Riley knew better than to let his guard down.

One wrong step and he could fall into a spike pit, or get nailed by a volley of bolts from the side.

Fun? Sure. Experiencing traps could be interesting… if he had the time.

But he didn’t.

With no way to track time properly in here and the sun slowly creeping toward the horizon outside, he couldn’t afford to mess around.

So, focusing all his senses, Riley moved deeper into the dungeon—silent, alert.

His eyes scanned the ground and walls, looking for anything out of place.

Time passed, though he couldn’t tell how much. It felt like hours and minutes were melting into each other.

Still, he kept walking, and eventually, the traps started showing themselves.

The first few were as expected—cheap arrow traps that fired the moment he stepped on a pressure plate.

He moved through them without much effort, weaving past the shots or slicing them mid-air.

Then came the more theatrical stuff—a massive boulder that dropped from nowhere and rolled after him like something out of an old comic.

He outran it easily, then crushed it to pieces with a single swing when it got too close.

“…Guess I had too much hope for the traps,” he muttered, kicking away a half-broken stone that rolled near his foot.

Despite the no-mana rule, Riley still had his instincts—and they were screaming.

He could feel it.

The dense mana pressing down from every direction… something was definitely here.

Even if he wasn’t allowed to use mana, sensing it was another story entirely.

And from what he could tell, this place was filled with monsters.

Dangerous ones.

Strong enough that just the lingering presence in the air could make your skin crawl.

S-Rank, at the very least. Maybe even higher.

But despite all that, he hadn’t seen a single monster so far.

That’s what bothered him.

The traps were fine. Too easy, honestly.

But the silence… the absence of life in a place that reeked of it… That was the real red flag.

“They’re watching,” he muttered under his breath, fingers tightening slightly around the hilt of his sword.

Whatever was lurking deeper inside, it wasn’t just going to pounce out like some random low-tier beast.

It was waiting.

But why, though?

Monsters inside dungeons weren’t supposed to just sit still.

Normally, they attacked in swarms or jumped you from the shadows the moment you stepped inside.

That’s how they fed—by hunting intruders, protecting the core, and keeping the dungeon active.

So where were they?

Riley kept moving, thoughts running quietly in the back of his mind as he tried to make sense of it.

There were plenty of possible explanations.

Maybe they were hiding. Maybe they were gathering. Or maybe Beon had messed with more than just the layout.

A dozen ideas passed through his head, but none of them could be confirmed. And guessing wasn’t going to help him.

“…Tch.”

With a short sigh, Riley gave up on thinking too hard and picked up the pace.

He dashed forward, slicing down every trap that sprang up—blades, wires, spikes, collapsing floors, even some disguised illusions.

Nothing could really stop him. He dodged, weaved, and blitzed through the dungeon with practiced ease.

The few fake leads and dead ends didn’t slow him much either.

His S-rank stats made everything feel lighter, easier.

And the truth was, even compared to most S-ranks, Riley stood a notch higher. His sword moved faster than most people could blink.

Even without mana, he was more than capable.

And, well—he had to admit—it was kind of fun.

Until he passed through a hallway where the atmosphere changed.

The walls became cleaner, smoother.

Torches flickered on either side, their flames a deep, eerie blue that cast strange shadows on the stone.

Riley stopped walking, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Hah. Finally.”

A small grin tugged at his lips.

After what felt like forever sprinting through traps and empty corridors, something had finally shown up.

His hand slowly moved toward the hilt of his blade as his eyes settled on the figure kneeling ahead.

It stood at least two meters tall.

A towering, armored corpse—its massive, rectangular shield dug into the ground beside it.

A long sword, nearly half its size, rested point-down beside its knee.

Its skin, if it could be called that, was stretched thin and black, decayed and dry.

Its hollow, bony sockets locked onto Riley’s direction, like it could see without eyes.

“Death Knight…” Riley muttered.

A powerful undead monster.

Standard classification: A to S-Rank, depending on its size and mana output.

And judging from the aura leaking off this one, it wasn’t your average corpse puppet.

No.

This one was definitely S-Ranked.

Now it made sense.

Why no monsters had attacked him.

Why the dungeon felt so empty despite being thick with mana.

Undead weren’t like beasts or demons.

They didn’t chase you down the moment you stepped into their territory.

No, they waited—silent, still—until you got too close or did something that made your presence undeniable.

Most of the time, they just stayed put, like statues. But the second you crossed the line… the second you made it clear you were alive…

They reacted.

And in this case, the line was literal.

Riley looked down.

A faint glowing blue flame stretched across the stone floor in a straight, horizontal line right in front of him—reaching from one side of the hallway to the other, clean and deliberate.

It wasn’t just some aesthetic decoration.

It was a trigger.

“So, walking past that is what starts the fight, huh…” Riley muttered, slowly exhaling through his nose.

The Death Knight hadn’t moved an inch.

Still kneeling, still quiet… like it was waiting for the formal cue to begin a duel.

Everything about the setup screamed one-on-one combat.

No sneak attacks. No cheap tricks. Just a straight-up, kill-or-be-killed duel.

He tightened his grip on his sword.

He knew better than to underestimate it.

He wasn’t allowed to use mana.

That alone was enough to make this a problem. Sure, his physical stats were strong—strong enough to tear apart most high-rank monsters even without magic—but against a Death Knight?

It wasn’t just about speed or power.

It was about the plague aura they carried, the slow death that clung to their presence like rot. And the worst part?

You couldn’t just hack away and expect it to fall.

Death Knights didn’t die unless you destroyed their core.

And the location of that core?

Random.

Buried somewhere inside their body, hidden under armor, behind bones, or even sealed inside the weapon itself.

Which meant, no matter how strong he was… this wasn’t going to be quick.

“…Tch. I guess Master set a time limit for a reason,” Riley muttered, rolling his shoulder.

Depending on how this fight went, it could take him a while.

But standing around wouldn’t help.

Without any more hesitation, Riley stepped forward—his boot crossing the blue flame line.

For a second, the dungeon went silent.

Then, the Death Knight stirred.

Its head slowly lifted, and its hollow eye sockets blazed to life with brilliant blue fire.

It stood—slow, heavy, deliberate—gripping the hilt of its massive sword as it pulled it from the ground with a metallic screech that echoed through the stone halls.

Its shield rose next.

One arm. One movement. Like it had done this thousands of times before.

Riley adjusted his stance, lowering his body slightly, blade tilted forward.

Looking a bit closer, Riley started to notice small details he’d missed before.

The Death Knight wasn’t just any standard undead.

Thin trails of blue flame leaked from its joints—shoulders, chest plate, even the gaps beneath its helmet—and if he really focused, he could sense the flicker of other presences inside.

Lesser flame-type monsters, probably fused directly into its body. Fuel sources.

“…So, Master fused this dungeon with a fire-type layout too, huh?” Riley muttered.

It made sense.

Beon had said he altered it.

And if he’d combined a fire-based dungeon with this one, then Riley had to assume the enemies ahead would hit harder, burn hotter, and probably tank more damage than usual.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Guess that means I’ll have to cut faster than they can burn.

He took a slow breath in and exhaled.

“It feels weird using the forms like this…”

Normally, activating the [Hidden Blade Technique] came with instinct—his mana would naturally flow through his body, wrapping around his feet and blade, giving each step that familiar weight and control.

But now, without mana, it felt… disconnected.

Like he was moving on air, floating instead of striking.

Still.

He wasn’t going to let that stop him.

Riley’s focus sharpened as he studied the Death Knight’s armored body. If this was going to take time, it would be from having to guess where the core was hidden.

But the smartest move?

Break it apart.

If he tore the armor open, the core would reveal itself one way or another. No point dragging it out.

Fine. Let’s do it the hard way.

Without warning, Riley dashed forward.

The moment his foot hit the ground, a crater bloomed beneath him—thin web-like cracks racing across the stone from the sheer force of his launch.

He blurred forward, closing the gap like a bullet tearing through the air.

His blade moved fluidly.

[Skill: Hidden Blade Technique (S)]

[First Form: Blue Moon]

There was no mana powering it.

No burst of light or elemental glow. But even stripped bare, the form still carried weight. His body remembered it.

His muscles remembered.

The precision, the angle, the timing—it all came together as Riley twisted his torso mid-dash, his sword slicing cleanly through the Death Knight’s body from shoulder to hip.

The sound of metal being torn echoed down the corridor.

The impact sent a shockwave through the armor as the Death Knight staggered back.

It wasn’t as fast as when mana amplified it—but his physical stats alone were still enough.

The cut was clean.

Too clean.

The Death Knight’s body split slightly, smoke leaking out from the gash, yet it didn’t fall.

“Why didn’t it try to dodge or block, though?”

Riley muttered to himself, watching as the upper half of the Death Knight’s body flew through the air like a discarded mannequin, crashing hard against the stone ground with a dull, heavy thud.

That part didn’t make sense.

The monster should’ve been able to respond.

With its size, weight, and the clear amount of mana it had leaking from its body earlier, it had to have combat instincts—or at least enough intelligence to defend itself.

It wasn’t some mindless ghoul.

So why didn’t it move?

Riley kept his eyes on the twitching armor in front of him.

He wasn’t convinced it was over.

He hadn’t felt any resistance during the cut that would’ve suggested he hit the core, and the air didn’t shift the way it usually did when something died for good.

He waited—half-expecting the body to start regenerating like most high-rank undead.

But then—

FWOOSH.

A sudden blast of golden fire erupted from the corpse, swallowing it whole.

Riley’s eyes widened slightly as he instinctively took a step back.

The Death Knight didn’t scream. It didn’t resist. It just… disintegrated. Body, armor, weapon—everything turned to light and vanished into dust.

“…Huh?”

A soft chime echoed in his ears, and a message appeared in the corner of his vision.

[Note: User’s Natural Divinity of Light will automatically purify all dark- or evil-aligned entities upon contact.]

Riley blinked. His head tilted slightly to the side.

“…Wait. Are you telling me I just accidentally used my divinity?”

[Note: Negative. User’s Divinity Coat is a passive output derived from current soul resonance.]

“…What?”

Riley’s brows furrowed. “Turn it off, then.”

[Order denied. User’s Soul Divinity Resonance is currently undergoing forced sequence breakthrough. Interruption may result in soul destabilization or death.]

Riley stared at the message for a second.

Then muttered, “…So basically… I’ve got some divine passive buff now that just melts anything undead or evil the second they get close?”

[Note: Correct.]

He ran a hand down his face, letting out a long, annoyed sigh.

“…Hah… So, this whole test is pointless now, isn’t it?”

All that talk about not using mana.

All that effort into restraining his power, focusing on technique, keeping things fair.

Only to realize his soul was cheating for him.

Riley sighed to himself and shook his head slowly.

If this is really the case…

Then there was literally nothing he could do about it.

Unless, of course, he wanted to risk his own life just for the sake of having a bit of challenge.

But even he wasn’t that reckless. Not today, anyway.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking, boots echoing against the stone floor as he made his way deeper into the dungeon.

The air thickened slightly, the flames around the walls pulsing a shade darker.

Then—another blue line ignited across the floor.

He paused.

Looking ahead, he spotted them.

A dozen Death Knights.

Each one standing tall, armored, armed, and visually more imposing than the last.

In any normal situation, this would’ve been a death trap.

A guaranteed boss rush that would drain stamina, test strategy, and push a fighter’s limits.

For a moment, Riley felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe now I’ll get a real fight.

He stepped forward, crossing the glowing flame line without hesitation—just like before.

And once again… no reaction.

Not even a twitch.

The undead slowly turned their heads in unison to look at him, hollow sockets burning with faint blue fire.

But none of them raised their swords.

None of them took a stance.

They just stood there.

Like statues.

Like servants waiting for orders that would never come.

Riley stopped in his tracks, eyebrows twitching.

Seriously?

Even if he could one-shot them, he at least wanted to be attacked. A swing. A counter. Anything.

This?

This was just sad.

“…Hey, system,” Riley muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know something about this?”

[Note: Undead-type monsters are incapable of fighting a user blessed by the Mother of Death.]

Riley froze.

Then let out a small, dry laugh—one filled with disbelief more than amusement.

“So, you’re saying they can’t and won’t do anything against me?”

[Note: Affirmative.]

Riley stared at the system message for a few more seconds, then let out a longer sigh.

“Can I turn of the blessing effect?”

[Note: Negative…. User Blessing is tied to user soul sequence]

“You’re kidding right?”

[Nah….]

….

….

“I guess I’ll be meeting master sooner than expected then….”

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