How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 601: A Cold Heart 7

How... did we even come to this situation?

Cristo’s lungs burned as he dashed through the forest, branches whipping past his face and boots pounding against the damp earth.

Behind him, the faint glow of their team’s magic crystal pulsed erratically, reacting to the chaos of unstable mana that still lingered in the air behind them.

”Cristo! How far are we going?!” one of his teammates shouted from behind, their voice shaky and hoarse from exhaustion.

”Until the course is clear!” Cristo barked back without slowing down.

”But that flaming lady should be far away by now!” another protested, barely keeping up as they leapt over a fallen log.

”No!” Cristo snapped, his tone edged with both panic and reason. ”We need to get as far away as possible! Other teams are bound to notice what happened back there. Even if Princess Stacia chooses to ignore us now, the same can’t be said for the others that were probably watching!”

His words made sense, and yet dread still pooled in his gut.

As if their random encounter with Rose hadn’t already been disastrous enough, fate just had to throw Princess Stacia into the mix—her appearance turning an already impossible situation into a nightmare.

In a single instant, their strategy had collapsed.

Their formation shattered.

And three teams of the Eastern Empire’s Martial Team—some of the finest warriors the empire had sent—were now all eliminated.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Their team represented the pride of the Eastern Empire—elite martial artists trained since childhood, handpicked from among the empire’s best.

Their skills were refined, their combat discipline unmatched.

They had been told that even among foreign academies, their prowess would stand at the top.

But today—today that illusion had been torn apart.

First by Rose—the golden-haired monster in human form, whose magic and presence alone made them fold like paper.

And then by Stacia, the Del Luna Kingdom Princess herself, whose overwhelming fire aura had rendered them helpless, paralyzed like insects before her flames.

He glanced over his shoulder.

His remaining teammates followed close behind, sweat and fear staining their faces, their once-proud expressions replaced by grim determination.

Honestly... even if every one of them qualified as a top ranker back in the Eastern Empire, it still wasn’t enough.

There were only a handful left in his team now—barely enough to make up for their losses.

Without Hajey around to hold things together, the group felt unbalanced, their rhythm thrown completely off.

Cristo’s hand brushed against the folded piece of paper in his pocket, and he couldn’t help but let out a long, heavy sigh.

The weight of the task pressed harder on him with every breath.

From the start, they all knew this mission was never meant to be simple.

When your primary objective was to hunt down one of the most powerful swordsmen of this generation—second only to the clan’s master himself—certain risks came with it.

That’s why they had prepared three separate contingency plans, each more cautious than the last.

Every move calculated.

Every variable accounted for.

And yet, not even the most thorough preparation could have predicted this outcome.

They had been so careful, laying low from the start—avoiding unnecessary conflicts, keeping their movements discreet to avoid drawing the attention of the academy’s students or the other foreign teams.

But all it took was one encounter with Rose and one moment of chaos to throw everything into disarray.

Now, all those plans? Worthless.

Cristo exhaled sharply, frustration burning inside him.

There was no use complaining now—what’s done is done.

What mattered was what came next.

He needed to decide quickly.

Given their current lineup, withdrawing would’ve been the smart move. It would preserve their remaining strength and prevent further casualties.

But the word forfeit wasn’t something his clan would ever accept—especially not under the watchful eyes of the Madam herself.

Failure wasn’t an option.

And to make things worse, Hajey had entrusted everything to him if things went south.

Cristo grimaced.

He never wanted this kind of responsibility.

He just wanted to help out his master and friend, not get caught up in battles with monsters disguised as students.

Honestly... if it were up to him, he’d give up right now.

But he couldn’t.

The top of this academy already terrified him—those few individuals who stood miles above even the strongest in their empire.

If they were only the beginning...

Cristo could only imagine what kind of nightmare awaited them among the true geniuses—the ones whose names were spoken in whispers and whose power felt like something divine.

He then touched the paper in hic pocket once more... deep in thought.

As he felt the mana within them lightly ignite feeling the runes engraved on it activate.

Right now, he only needed one clean hit for the mission to work.

One strike and everything would fall into place — if they could reach Seo long enough to land it.

But how could they? She never let anyone get close.

He let out a soft, tired sigh.

On paper they had the advantage: the runes the madam had given them should tear through any binding, should bend fate for a few seconds.

But paper didn’t count for numbers, and numbers were what they lacked.

They didn’t have enough people to form the initial array — the martial formation that would hold Seo long enough to land that single, vital blow.

Without it the runes were just pretty scratches on his palm.

Their roster was thin.

A sneak attack might work if Seo was careless, but she wasn’t careless.

She used the same stealth techniques as them and, by every rumor and bitter memory, she was better.

Her steps fell like a shadow you felt before you saw it.

Even if one of them crept close, she’d notice.

”Should I...?”

A hard idea pressed up like a stone: sacrifice. Send two, maybe three, of his own to draw Seo’s focus while someone else slipped in.

It was brutal, dirty thinking — but a risk worth considering when the price of failure was everyone.

Of course,

There was another route: direct confrontation.

Cristo and Seow had ways with words.

Kind, tricky phrases might lull Seo, lower her guard for just a breath. Conversation as a blade.

He thought about that, about Cristo’s silver tongue and Seo’s sly smiles.

Maybe — maybe — they could fool her long enough.

But Seo was not ordinary.

She was unpredictable, even when she looked like nothing at all.

Calm, blank expression, eyes that didn’t show anything.

That emptiness was its own weapon.

You couldn’t read her to find a weakness; you could only find the wrong move.

And this was Seo.

Even a perfect plan could be cut in the time it took for her to blink.

Sighing, he adjusted his stance and summoned his dagger, the blade catching what little moonlight filtered through the trees.

He pulled out the paper, intending to trace and engrave the runes onto the weapon — a final step before the ambush.

But then—

[Runic Binding Magic]

[Stasis]

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

He froze. Not out of fear — he literally couldn’t move.

His breath hitched, his muscles locked.

Around him, his teammates were mid-leap between trees, frozen midair, weapons gleaming — unmoving, yet somehow still suspended.

What’s going on?

His eyes darted as much as they could, but even that felt sluggish.

The world wasn’t frozen.

The trees still swayed.

The wind still brushed against his cheek.

But he and his team... they were caught in something else entirely.

Then he noticed it — a faint bluish-white energy coating their bodies, almost like starlight in motion.

”You’re probably wondering if this is celestial magic,” a calm, feminine voice said, cutting through the still air. ”But I can assure you, it’s not.”

From above, she descended slowly — a woman whose very presence made the world feel smaller.

Golden-blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her deep blue eyes glowed faintly as they met his.

She smiled faintly, almost amused, as her boots hovered just inches above the ground.

He didn’t recognize her, yet something about her felt familiar.

”Who... are you?” he managed to think, though no sound left his lips.

The woman tilted her head, circling him as if inspecting a curious specimen.

Then she stopped right in front of him, her expression soft but strange.

”It seems,” she said lightly, ”our situations are quite similar. Fufu~”

His thoughts stumbled. What the hell is she talking about?

”I’m in a bit of a hurry, you see,” she continued, voice smooth and unhurried. ”So I’m going to have to take these from you.”

Her fingers reached toward the paper clutched in his unmoving hand.

”Don’t worry, your madam won’t notice. I’ve already blocked all the lines from the academy.”

Her touch was delicate, almost gentle, as she pulled the runes from his grasp.

”Rest easy,” she said, almost mockingly. ”This time I won’t let these runes go to waste out of... pure pettiness.”

Then she turned, rising back into the air.

W-wait! he wanted to shout, but his voice stayed trapped in his chest.

The woman paused mid-ascent and looked back over her shoulder.

The warmth in her expression vanished, replaced by a coldness that sent a chill through him.

And for a fleeting second — as her face turned just right — he saw it.

A faint resemblance.

The sharp outline of someone he knew.

No... it can’t be—

But before he could finish the thought—

Snap!

A sound like thunder and glass breaking filled his ears.

The forest vanished.

When his eyes opened again, there was only white.

A clean, unfamiliar ceiling stretched above him.

His whole body felt heavy, as if he’d been asleep for days.

The smell of medicine and sterile linen told him exactly where he was.

The academy infirmary.

He blinked slowly, staring up in disbelief.

A tired laugh escaped his lips.

”Haha...”

It was the only thing he could manage as the absurdity of everything that just happened sank in.

.....

Up above the sky Evelyn looked at the unfolding chaos happening in the forest...

The runes in her hands trembling.

’Which world should I ignite this time....’