How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 575: Continental Festival 4

Inside the Royal Hall.

A residence reserved for those of royal status or nobles whose bloodlines stood at the pinnacle.

Aera Nari Gyeoul sat elegantly upon a soft crimson sofa, her slender fingers holding a porcelain cup of steaming tea.

Each movement of hers was refined, unhurried, as though the world itself adjusted to her rhythm.

Her personal attendants stood nearby, quiet as statues, their presence subdued but unmistakably sharp.

Across from her sat Principal Leilah.

Though she kept a polite smile on her lips, her gaze carried the weight of scrutiny.

Aera’s sudden arrival was unusual enough, but the fact that she had come in person—and an entire month earlier than necessary—set alarm bells ringing in Leilah’s mind.

Someone of Aera’s influence could have shifted outcomes with a mere letter, a whisper, a token of gold sent through an emissary.

Yet here she was, sitting in the heart of the academy.

”So,” Leilah began casually, ”how long do you intend to stay with us?”

”Until the conclusion of the newly implemented festival you’ve organized, Principal.”

”Fufu,I never imagined that a simple combat tournament would be enough to intrigue the mistress of the Gyeoul clan.”

”As a martial master myself, any tournament showcasing true skill and strength will always intrigue me,” Aera replied smoothly, setting her cup down with a faint clink.

Leilah tilted her head slightly, voice dropping lower. ”Surely you jest. That cannot be your only reason for visiting, can it?”

Aera’s eyes curved in feigned innocence. ”Whatever could you mean, Principal?”

”If it were only excitement for the event, then there would have been no need for you to send such... excessive amounts of gold beforehand, no?” Leilah’s smile sharpened.

A faint hum slipped past Aera’s veil, as though she were amused by the accusation.

She did not answer, and her silence was its own kind of defiance.

Leilah’s smile faded into something more dangerous.

She exhaled slowly, then snapped her fingers.

Snap!

Her brown hair darkened into a deeper shade, cascading like ink down her shoulders.

Her once-gentle blue eyes turned into a piercing violet glow, the faint crackle of purplish lightning dancing across her pupils.

The very air inside the Royal Hall thickened, as if pressed down by invisible weight.

Curtains that had been swaying lazily drew shut all at once, plunging the room into a shadowed dusk.

The shift was immediate—Aera’s attendants stirred, hands subtly moving toward hidden blades and artifacts.

”Stand down,” Aera said as she raised hand was all it took to still them. The servants froze in place, though their eyes never left Leilah.

”If I’m not wrong,” Aera said coolly, her fan lowering just enough to reveal the faint curve of her lips, ”this is a mage’s domain, isn’t it? Which would mean, Principal, that you’ve secretly inscribed your runes into this place. Quite the breach of privacy...”

Leilah chuckled lightly, the sound airy but carrying an edge. ”Fufu, that would be the case—if only the entire academy weren’t already laced with my personal runes.”

Aera’s smile deepened, though her eyes remained unreadable.

The message was clear.

Leilah wasn’t simply saying this is my office.

She was saying this academy itself is mine—my territory, my authority, my shadow lies over every stone and corridor.

Not even royalty, it seemed, was exempt from that presence.

Was it arrogance? Aera thought.

Or confidence?

Perhaps both.

But if she had to choose... it was likely the latter.

After all, Leilah wasn’t just another mage.

She was one of the only few Archmages recognized across the entire continent.

”I suppose,” Aera said smoothly, her tone a touch sharper now, ”you’re not a fan of quiet subtleties, Principal.”

Leilah’s violet eyes gleamed, arcs of faint lightning dancing along her fingertips. ”That would only be the case,” she replied, ”if the matter at hand did not involve my students.”

At that, Aera’s gaze darkened, her fan lowering completely as the air around her cooled like falling snow. ”It is a family matter, Principal.”

”One that involves my student,” Leilah countered without hesitation.

The tension spiked like a blade being drawn.

A subtle killing intent filled the room, heavy enough that the attendants behind Aera instinctively stepped back, their breaths shallow.

The air itself seemed to weigh on their chests.

”She is my daughter, Principal,” Aera said, her voice as calm as falling frost, but sharp enough to cut. ”And you’ve already accepted the money. Wasn’t it enough for you to quietly let this matter slide? Was thirty million gold not sufficient? We can... double it, if you wish.”

Her words were elegant, but beneath them lay the steel of command. It wasn’t a negotiation—it was a demand gilded in wealth.

Leilah leaned back slightly, amusement flickering on her lips, though her eyes never softened. ”Fufu... quite the generous offer,” she murmured. ”But no. The only reason the academy even entertained such a proposal was to uncover the true nature behind it. And I can see now that your offer drips with malice.”

Her hand lifted, and faint arcs of purple lightning rolled off her wrist like living veins of power, illuminating the darkened hall.

”And as the contract remains unsigned, as no binding seal was placed, we are free to return your offer... whenever we please.”

”A counterfeit in contract and a breach of agreement isn’t exactly legal, Principal...” Aera’s voice was soft, but every word carried the chill of an icicle.

Leilah’s smile didn’t waver. ”As I said—nothing was ever signed.”

For the first time, Aera’s neutral mask cracked, the faintest twitch of her brow betraying her irritation.

Her initial evaluation had been wrong.

She had assumed the academy’s recent financial troubles would make them desperate, pliable—willing to bend if enough gold was pushed into their hands.

Perhaps that had been true once, with the chaos and incidents surrounding the academy lately.

But she had not expected this from Leilah: a woman whose loyalty to her students outweighed any wealth offered to her doorstep.

”Sending assassins into the academy was one thing—already a massive breach and risk assessment on your part,” Leilah continued, her tone sharp as a drawn blade.

”Dispatching personal warriors? Tolerable, if only barely. But rallying an entire martial cult under the pretense of participating in our festival... that is another matter entirely, Lady Gyeoul.”

Aera’s fan lowered an inch, shadows flickering across her pale face. ”...This is only an expression of love, Principal.”

Leilah’s lips parted, but before she could retort, Aera continued, her voice steady as steel.

”And if your concern lies in the safety of your students, in the dignity and authority of this academy, then you may rest assured: no one will be harmed in my stay here. Not even...” her gaze sharpened, ”...the mistake of our family.”

Leilah’s eyes narrowed, violet sparks dancing at her fingertips. ”I find that hard to believe.”

”Do not trouble yourself. I am being absolutely truthful in this moment.” Aera leaned back, her fan snapping open again with a soft clack. ”This is, after all, supposed to be a matter of family secrets—issues not meant for outside ears. But seeing as you are already half aware...”

Her gaze flicked briefly to the attendants standing behind her. In an instant, their forms shimmered and vanished into the air, leaving no trace.

The room grew colder, emptier.

”...my true reason for coming here was not simply to enjoy a holiday, nor to cleanse the academy of our family’s... mistake. Nor even to witness your festival.”

Leilah tilted her head slightly, the room humming with restrained power. ”Then what, Lady Gyeoul, is your true purpose?”

Aera folded her fan, her voice dipping lower, a thin smile on her lips.

”I am here to personally retrieve our Clan Head—my father-in-law—who has long overstayed his ’vacation.’”

Leilah blinked. ”...Huh?”

”The Clan Head of the Gyeoul Clan,” Aera repeated, her words carrying the weight of revelation. ”My father-in-law is currently inside your academy.”

Leilah’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the revelation, her calm composure flickering for a brief, rare moment.

The master and founder of the Hidden Blade technique himself... here?

Beon Gyeoul. The name alone carried the weight of a legend.

An ascended swordsman who had reached the very peak of humanity, a man whose blade was once said to have clashed evenly with the Duke of Heavens himself—respected as an equal, feared as an opponent.

For centuries, the Gyeoul clan had used his legacy as their pillar, and now... he was here, roaming the academy under her very nose?

Her chest tightened with unease. Then why couldn’t I sense him?

Leilah’s mind churned, alarms blaring silently. If this matter wasn’t handled delicately, it could spiral into chaos, one that even her authority might struggle to contain.

”I understand your concerns,” Aera’s gentle voice cut through her storm of thoughts. ”But trust me on this one fact at least... no one will be harmed.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Leilah exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing just enough to release the tension in the room. ”...Very well. I’ll take your word for it—for now, Lady Gyeoul.”

Aera’s lips curved into a soft, gracious smile. ”And regarding the contract... why don’t we proceed by doubling the allocated gold fee?”

Leilah’s brow arched, suspicion flickering in her eyes.

”Think of it as a token of my apology,” Aera continued smoothly, lifting her fan to her lips. ”For the hidden distress my presence might have caused here.”

Leilah’s expression didn’t soften, but her silence spoke volumes.

The academy was strong in power, yes, but resources were another matter entirely.

No matter how she tried to mask it, the academy’s recent ordeals had drained coffers more than she cared to admit.

Whether she liked it or not, the gold would be necessary to stabilize the upcoming festival.

”...Fine,” she muttered, almost begrudgingly.

Aera inclined her head politely, then after a pause, spoke again. ”There is one more matter, Principal. A favor, if you will.”

Leilah’s eyes narrowed. ”...A favor?”

”Yes. Do not worry, I will return it with even greater value than any gold I provide. I simply wish to know a bit more about a certain student residing here—before meeting him personally.”

Leilah’s gaze sharpened like a drawn blade. ”...And who might that be?”

Aera’s voice lowered, calm yet deliberate.

”Riley Hell.”

For a moment, Leilah’s mask nearly slipped. Her pupils dilated before she caught herself, schooling her expression back into neutrality.

But inside, a flicker of satisfaction stirred, and her lips curved ever so slightly into a hidden smirk.

”Sure,” she said with deceptive cheer. ”What would you like to know?”

Yes... that was right. The solution—the answer to all the tangled threads of trouble the academy faced—had been here all along.

...

I sneezed—Achoo!

Blinking, I rubbed my nose lightly with the back of my hand before resuming my pace, my other hand still gently wrapped around Alice’s fingers.

er grip was as soft as ever, yet firm enough that letting go never crossed my mind.

”Hm~ what’s wrong, Riley? I thought ascended beings don’t get sick?” Alice tilted her head, her voice playful, her pink hair swaying as she walked beside me.

”I’m not sick, just felt like sneezing for some reason...”

”Is that so?” she teased, her lips curving in amusement.

I couldn’t shake the weird heaviness pressing on my chest though, like I’d unknowingly been handed a burden I hadn’t agreed to carry. Strange... well, not important right now.

”Alice...”

”Hn~?” she hummed, turning to me with that same cheerful sparkle in her eyes.

”How about we slow down for a bit?”

She blinked, puzzled. ”What do you mean?”

”I mean...” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. ”...aren’t you already full?”

Alice tilted her head even further, like a curious cat, before bursting into a mischievous chuckle. ”What are you talking about, Riley? I’m not full yet, you know. Ehehe~”

Her laughter rang out as she lifted the bag of cream puffs she had clutched protectively in her arms, as if it were some kind of treasure chest. The bag was already half-empty—no, three-quarters empty.

”Anyways,” she said between little hums of delight, ”we should try that one next!”

She pointed excitedly toward the storefront ahead of us.

My gaze followed her finger, and dread coiled in my stomach the moment I read the sign.

Another sweet shop.

The seventh one today.

I groaned inwardly, my mouth and stomach churning in protest at the mere thought of another mountain of sugar.

Seriously... I don’t get it. From time to time, Alice’s appetite just... changes. Like today.

It’s not even human anymore—it’s a bottomless void in the shape of a cute girl.

Still, with her tugging me along so happily, I didn’t have the heart to pull away.