How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 660: Light

Beon’s life had been defined by the blade since his earliest years.

It was never a mere pastime.

It was never a game.

It was his entire existence.

His days were consumed by training—perfecting every strike, footstep, and breath—repeatedly pushing his physical limits until he became numb to agony and exhaustion.

By his peak, he had reached heights that most could never hope to achieve.

The world no longer referred to him as a prodigy.

A different title had been bestowed upon him.

An ascended being.

His swordsmanship was so swift that reality failed to register the moment of the cut.

Before the sound of the strike could catch up to the motion, the duel was already over.

Velocity was not merely a tool for him; it was his very essence.

As the creator of the Hidden Blade Technique, he was the swiftest swordsman in existence, a true sword supreme whose reputation commanded respect even from fellow masters.

Pride naturally followed such overwhelming power.

Yet, Beon lacked a cruel heart. His quiet poise was born of strict discipline rather than conceit.

He offered respect to those who earned it—the ones who struggled, evolved, and looked their own limitations in the eye.

However, one thing disgusted him more than anything else.

Mediocrity masquerading as diligence.

Natural talent squandered by indecision.

Strength that was imitated but never truly grasped.

To put it simply—he hated frauds.

"Tsk..."

He clicked his tongue in irritation, his violet eyes flashing with small sparks of lightning.

In the distance, a young lady persisted in her training.

This had been her routine for several days.

With relentless resolve, she moved through the motions, though her technique was unpolished and her breathing lacked rhythm.

Through Beon’s eyes, the potential was visible—the raw power, the instincts, and a physique capable of execution.

And yet...

Something felt fundamentally off.

She appeared miserable.

But at the same time... she was brimming with latent talent.

There was weight behind every swing.

There was purpose in every step.

Her actions were far from hollow.

Yet, despite his intense scrutiny, a missing piece remained elusive.

It was as if she stood before a threshold she lacked the key to cross.

She was unfinished.

Why?

Beon narrowed his vision, lightning dancing within his pupils.

"The strength is present," he whispered to himself.

"The movement is there... even the stance is correct."

Why did it still feel so unnatural?

Why did every blow seem to halt just before achieving true reality?

His hand gripped his weapon tighter without him realizing it.

"...What is it that you lack?"

Swoosh—!

Suddenly, a swirl of dark mist appeared at his side.

Beon didn't startle. He merely shifted his eyes, recognizing the presence before the figure even solidified.

"Bom..."

The mist vanished, revealing a young woman wearing an easygoing smirk, her hands clasped behind her as if her sudden appearance was perfectly normal.

"I see you’ve returned to your voyeuristic habits," she remarked playfully.

"I am not stalking."

"Fufu. If you say so." Bom cocked her head, her expression full of doubt. "First it was me as a child. Then Seo. Then Riley. And now..." She looked toward the far-off training area. "...you’ve even targeted a princess. Sigh. What am I going to do with my great-grandfather?"

"You are making it sound far more sinister than it is," Beon said dryly.

"That’s because it is as bad as it sounds," Bom murmured, though she seemed more teased than genuinely annoyed. "Still... I figured you’d be interested in her. Just not to this extent. Monitoring her daily, dissecting every move." She looked back at him. "If it bothers you that much, why not just instruct her yourself?"

"You are aware that I cannot," Beon answered instantly. "Furthermore... I have my own justifications."

Bom let out a sigh. His stubborn streak remained untouched by the passage of time.

"...Regardless," she said after a momentary pause, crossing her arms, "your presence here means Mother sent you to follow me again, doesn't it?"

Beon gave a short laugh. "So you figured it out."

"Haha, well, yes. Even if it’s a bit intrusive, don’t judge her too harshly." Bom offered a small smile. "You’re quite a handful, even for her."

"I am aware," Beon said softly. "Every action your mother takes is for the sake of the family."

He cast a sidelong glance at Bom.

"And it's not as if you're actually being stealthy. I can only imagine her reaction if she found out you were casually chatting with the person you're meant to be spying on."

Bom chuckled softly at the thought.

"She’d likely act as if she didn't know," Bom said. "Just to maintain the facade."

Beon fell silent, his eyes fixed ahead while Bom continued to speak beside him.

A light breeze tugged at his cloak, bringing the aroma of cold steel and frost from the training grounds.

As the leader of both the clan and the family, he carried burdens heavier than any sword—obligations to his lineage, his legacy, and the preservation of balance.

Ironically, the very complexities of those bonds were what restricted his movements now.

He no longer possessed the freedom of his youth.

However, his patience had its bounds.

Should anyone overstep, he would not hesitate to cut down whatever was necessary—kin or otherwise.

He had once intended to sever ties with Aera the moment her plots began to manifest.

Her thirst for power, her schemes, and the cold calculations masked by her smiles—he had perceived them long ago.

Or so he had assumed. But reality often diverged from his expectations.

One by one, her intricate plans had crumbled, dismantled by unexpected factors, random meetings, and individuals who should have been inconsequential—but weren't.

Lately, her behavior had become unpredictable.

Far too erratic.

Her actions no longer adhered to the sharp logic he expected. Instead, they seemed... warped. As if she was being swayed by an outside force. Something chaotic.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

Is this because of Riley?

The question persisted in his mind longer than he cared to admit.

Since that boy’s arrival, events Beon once thought impossible had begun to occur as if drawn by an invisible tide.

The foundations of power were shifting.

Fate itself seemed to warp—not through force, but through a persistent gravity—around his very existence.

His mere presence altered the course of events.

Troublesome, indeed.

And yet... dependable.

Beon let out a quiet breath. Regardless of what Aera planned, as long as Riley was in the mix, the future remained—paradoxically—stable.

It was hazardous, certainly, but contained.

No matter what chaos trailed the boy, it never breached a certain hidden threshold.

Beon placed more faith in that boundary than any sworn oath.

As long as Aera didn't cross that line, a true disaster would be averted.

"By the way, Family Head."

Bom’s voice broke through his meditation.

Beon didn't turn his head, but he gave her his attention.

"Didn’t you claim you came to monitor your pupil and check on Seo?" she asked, her tone light but inquisitive. "You got here before anyone else... yet you haven't shown your face to Riley or Seo once."

A silence followed, punctuated only by the distant echo of training swords and muffled shouting.

Bom tilted her head, observing him closely.

"For someone who supposedly came to 'watch and guide your disciples onto the correct path,' you’ve been doing an excellent job of staying hidden."

Beon’s violet eyes shimmered, sparks of suppressed lightning flickering beneath the surface.

"My intervention was unnecessary," Beon stated. "Riley and Seo are developing—no, evolving—in ways I never foresaw."

His focus sharpened as he thought of Riley.

"Especially Riley. His existence has already entered a domain I once thought was out of reach. Previously, his strength was concealed—crushed and held back. Now, it radiates naturally and softly... like a master who wears his mantle without even noticing its weight. As for why I haven't greeted them... I have my reasons."

He paused for a second before continuing.

"I find observation preferable."

Watching had always been Beon’s greatest vice.

There was a certain beauty in seeing potential flourish on its own—unburdened by coaching, stress, or the weight of expectations. And beyond that...

He suspected his presence would only ruin the delicate, fleeting moments those two shared.

After all—

Even he struggled with his composure when facing his cherished granddaughter, Seo.

Bom looked dissatisfied, but she eventually shook her head.

She was well aware of how much her grandfather’s whims governed his choices.

"Hm... I see," she sighed. "Well, I don’t mind as long as you don't start any trouble. I don't care if you want to play the ghost."

She paused momentarily before adding,

"However... you really should fulfill your obligations as clan head this time. Mother has been acting odd lately. She's still managing most of your duties from afar, but you're still the one in charge, you know."

Bom folded her arms.

"Even father is starting to lose his patience with you back home."

Beon gave a soft chuckle.

"Haha. My son and daughter-in-law are free to take my position whenever they wish. I decided on my retirement a long time ago."

"Then why don't you actually retire?" Bom countered.

"Because," Beon answered without a second thought, "it is far more entertaining this way."

Bom let out a deep sigh, wishing she hadn't asked.

"Anyway... are you going to just keep spying on that princess?"

"Certainly not," Beon said, straightening his back.

Suddenly, a sharp light of intent filled his violet eyes.

"You know I cannot turn a blind eye to such potential."

As soon as the words were spoken, Beon disappeared—his body turning into a bolt of crackling violet lightning that sliced through the air, leaving only a low hum and Bom’s weary sigh behind.

...

—Slam!

A massive figure skidded across the stone tiles before coming to a messy halt.

"Ugh—!"

A gravelly, pained sound followed as Kagami, his large frame shaking, coughed violently and clutched his stomach.

The blow had knocked the air from his lungs, and his vision blurred for a moment.

"Are you alright?!"

Lucas sprinted over, his face showing genuine worry as he reached out to assist him.

Kagami immediately held up a massive hand to stop him. "Nah—cough—I’m fine, pal." He wheezed once more before forcing a smirk. "I’m the one who told you to hit me, remember?"

"Haha... yeah, I know, but maybe I should have used even less force—"

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

In truth, he had held back. Significantly.

But there was no point in mentioning that.

"It’s fine," Kagami said, finally taking Lucas’s hand. With a grunt and a flex of his muscles, he pulled himself up. "I knew you were strong, but damn... I didn't expect it to land that hard."

Lucas gave a small laugh. "People are usually surprised. I don't exactly look like a powerhouse."

Kagami snorted. "Your build is perfectly fine. Sure, you aren't as absurdly ripped as Riley, but your frame is almost the same." He paused, his eyes narrowing in mock gravity. "And between the two of you? Your faces alone are enough to make half the men in the academy grit their teeth in jealousy."

"Jealousy?" Lucas blinked in confusion.

"Don't worry about it." Kagami dismissed the thought. "Between your fans and the fact that Riley has four literal goddesses following him, it all balances out. Though honestly—" he whispered, dropping his voice, "if you could actually see the goddess standing right next to you, maybe you wouldn't be such a frustratingly oblivious girl."

"...Huh?"

Lucas tilted his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Kagami cleared his throat loudly. "Forget I said anything."

The air grew still for a moment before Kagami’s face changed, his typical relaxed grin being replaced by a more serious look.

"So," he said, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, "are you truly certain you want me to do the same to you?"

Lucas met his eyes and nodded firmly.

"Please," he said steadily. "Don't hold anything back."

Kagami paused.

"...Fine," he eventually said, letting out a slow breath. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He planted his feet deep into the earth. Mana erupted, swirling around his fist like concentrated starlight—dense, fierce, and incredibly heavy.

The atmosphere warped as the energy was pulled inward, focusing onto a single point.

It was Kagami’s ultimate move.

[Meteor Fist]

"Don't blame me if this leaves a mark, pal," he grunted, his muscles bulging as veins stood out along his arm.

Standing opposite him, Lucas merely smiled.