How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 678: Clara’s price?

In a realm where riches surged endlessly, trust couldn't be bought with mere coin.

It stood as a rare treasure—delicate, elusive, and usually pricier than the finest gold.

Clara grasped that harsh reality well before she could comprehend the warmth of a true childhood.

Right from when her first recollections formed, her existence brimmed with sleek grins and precisely calculated speeches.

Every chat hid a deeper purpose; they masked deals beneath layers of courtesy.

Principles served as mere decorations, flaunted when handy and tossed aside once they proved worthless. All revolved around a single aim—gain.

"Remember this, Clara."

Those words from her father resounded in her thoughts each time she faced a bargaining desk or pored over the family's accounts.

"In this world, talent alone will never be enough to let you live comfortably."

She carried them etched in her memory forever.

Entering the world as a scion of the Luminaria house—whose fortunes matched a kingdom's vaults—Clara grew up amid surroundings where figures wielded greater might than blades.

Their trading dominion stretched across borders, touching almost every land on the continent via wagons, pacts, and unseen webs of control.

Magic coursed in their veins, indeed—but it paled against their true strength.

Wealth reigned supreme.

Clara Luminaria claimed that power as her birthright.

Her keen intellect excelled at assessing worth, spotting dangers, and piercing the veils of civility to uncover true motives.

Raised in this ruthless domain, where disloyalty counted as just another tactic for success, she mastered balancing on the edge between victim and hunter.

Vulnerability marked a grave error.

Negligence spelled doom.

Thus, she placed faith in nobody.

Not completely.

She depended solely on her skills, employing others only as needed, forging agreements that served her kin and herself.

All transactions carried costs. All kindness sought compensation.

Emotions found no entry in balance sheets, and favors without yield amounted to naive handouts.

Nothing came freely in this life without a trade.

And no soul—however benevolent or just—offered aid without seeking recompense.

After all, only an idiot would hazard their resources sans assured returns.

Such was the nature of existence.

Or so... Clara had always assumed the world operated.

"Are you alright, Clara?"

"Huh?"

That voice yanked her from her reverie.

Her gaze sharpened as the present world flooded back.

Just seconds earlier, she had been trading cautious remarks with Zelova's prince—phrases picked with precision, courteous grins, the standard ritual of shared advantage.

Yet now, that very prince slumped lifelessly on the polished stone, still.

No—more than still. His form contorted awkwardly, one side of his features caved in like from a massive rock's impact, not a mortal blow.

Dead...?

No—clinging to life, maybe.

Her inhale hitched as she lifted her sight.

There loomed Kagami.

His towering build eclipsed the overhead crystal lights, his wide frame heaving with scarcely contained fury.

Fissures radiated from under his boots across the tiles, while subtle sparks of stellar mana lingered on his balled hands, twisting the surrounding atmosphere with intense force.

"Why did you do that?"

The words slipped out from her lips unbidden.

Clara felt true bewilderment.

She'd long viewed Kagami as hot-headed, prone to settling issues with blows over words, yet she recognized deeper: under that intimidating shell beat a surprisingly straightforward soul.

He struck only with cause.

"There was no reason for this..." she whispered, mostly to her own ears than his.

"That’s because this bastard tried to use—"

Kagami's tone grated, thick with bottled rage, yet before the sentence ended—

"You there! Stay where you are!"

A commanding shout pierced the chamber.

Clara jolted as sentries poured in from all sides, heels pounding the stone.

Staves, blades, and rods lifted together, encircling Kagami in a firm half-ring.

Protective formations shimmered underfoot, symbols igniting as bindings geared up to engage.

"Put your hands up and comply immediately!"

The leader's command rang steady, laced with clear unease.

The cause was obvious to all.

Kagami cut an imposing figure even ordinarily—and now, with traces of celestial mana seeping from his grips, he appeared downright fearsome.

The residual force warped the atmosphere, sending unseen pulses that forced seasoned watchers to tense up.

This wasn't the aura of a wild thug.

It signaled immense potency—compact, pure, and hardly leashed.

"Alright... calm down. I won’t resist."

Kagami's rumble stayed deep and gravelly while he gradually lifted his arms.

The aggressive force in the room subsided as his mana calmed, the brilliant stellar sheen dimming from his hands like cooling coals.

The sentries paused briefly, uncertain, then surged ahead.

Enchantment bonds triggered.

Luminescent links coiled about his limbs and chest, blocking his mana channels.

Kagami offered no struggle—not a twitch.

His stare remained fixed on the downed prince, smoldering with subdued wrath.

"Medic! Emergency healers—now! This person is dying!"

One sentry yelled while dashing near.

Even sans the call, menders were already advancing.

Pure radiance burst forth, restorative rings appeared, and cloaked healers dropped beside Alain's mangled form, striving to steady him.

Crimson-flecked stone mirrored the spells' light, rendering the ground otherworldly and dreamlike.

Hushed talks rippled across the space.

"Hey... isn’t that Kagami Kento...?"

"I heard he was a brute, but doing something like this here?"

"So that guy he punched... wasn’t he a royal?"

"Wasn’t he a prince?"

Gossips swelled swiftly, blending dread, astonishment, and scorn in the atmosphere.

Kagami tuned out the noise.

Showed no response.

Offered no justification.

Made no plea.

He simply remained, bound, gazing at the senseless prince.

"K-Kagami Kento," a sentry ventured warily, "we’re going to need you to come with us for questioning regarding this incident."

"Sure."

The reply flowed instantly.

"Wait— I can vouch for his—!"

Clara advanced, alarm surging within as the gravity sank in.

Yet prior to completing her thought—

"It’s alright, Clara."

Kagami interrupted her steadily, tilting his head to meet her eyes.

"They’ll just ask me a few things."

"But—"

"It’s actually better this way," he murmured softly.

Then, following a brief lull, a subtle, wry smile tugged at his mouth.

"Besides... I’m kinda glad that bastard didn’t die from my punch."

Clara went rigid.

"It’s a good thing I held back."

Observing the prince's near-fatal condition, Kagami realized at once that basic healers wouldn't suffice.

They'd probably transport him to the Church.

Or, should the wounds prove too grave, call upon a senior priest to mend him via holy might.

And once sacred force met the prince's battered visage, the full story would emerge.

Regardless of the smears on Kagami's name.

No matter the harsh penalties they might impose.

Truth would prevail anyway.

Kagami exhaled steadily from his nostrils.

If I’d been even a step late...

His eyes darted to Clara for an instant.

She might have suffered grave injury—no, something far graver.

Having battled fiends beside Lucas merely a year prior, Kagami had sharpened his senses to detect the slightest hints of infernal mana.

It hung in the air unlike any regular spell—oppressive, slick, unnatural.

Once detected, it defied confusion with anything else.

He'd believed their group had eradicated all fiends and their devotees hidden on campus.

But the prince hailed from beyond.

Which implied some vile infiltrator had evaded capture.

Yet what stunned Kagami most was the mark.

He hadn't foreseen Clara as the focus.

The malediction force the prince attempted was outrageously thick—so potent that even a magicless bystander would sense the wrongness upon its stir.

The malice was crystal clear.

That fact alone ignited his fury.

"Do you even understand your situation right now?"

Clara's tone sliced through, laced with concern.

"You might be a highly favored S-class student of the academy, but even the academy has limits to how much it can protect you. And I—"

she swallowed, clearly shaken,

"—I also have limits in how much I can cover for you. You hurt someone of royal status..."

Kagami eyed her, then rubbed the nape of his neck with a sheepish lift of his shoulders.

"I told you," he replied evenly, like discussing a mild drizzle, "it’s fine."

His focus returned to the crumpled prince.

"If divine power touches him," he murmured low, "this whole mess will explain itself."

"What are you even talking about? And no—it’s not fine."

Clara's retort came keener than planned.

Clunk.

Click.

Extra bindings of enchantment clamped onto Kagami's arms and body, luminous marks constricting to bolster the holds.

The strain mounted right away. Kagami shot a glare at the sentry responsible, a flicker of lethal aura escaping to make the fellow freeze before looking away fast.

Brushing off the growing whispers and needless alarm filling the chamber, Kagami faced Clara again, who regarded him with fury and incredulity blended.

"This whole thing’ll be over pretty soon,"

he remarked offhandedly.

"So don’t worry too much. Just come visit me wherever they decide to toss me—dungeon, holding cell, prison. Wherever."

"This is not the time for jokes," Clara shot back.

She pressed her forehead and released an exasperated breath.

Watching Kagami's lax demeanor, it stung how little gravity he assigned to the crisis.

He appeared unconcerned by his standing, the school's boundaries, or the diplomatic fallout from striking a noble visitor.

Even supposing—even if—the prince had indeed attempted harm against her...

She remained in the dark about the details.

And without Kagami clarifying, she lacked grounds to defend him or halt the sentries' removal.

"Let’s move. Now."

With the captain's directive, Kagami dipped his head slightly and shifted ahead.

Clara's frustration erupted.

She lunged and seized his collar, digits digging firm into the cloth.

"Wait."

Kagami halted and peered down. "What?"

"I understand that the prince tried to do something to me,"

she articulated deliberately, selecting terms thoughtfully.

"But regardless of that..."

Her hold clenched harder.

"Why did you do that?"

"Huh?"

"Even if the prince really did try something," Clara pressed on, her tone quivering with held-back feeling, "why would you risk yourself for me?"

Her stare probed his features, astute and probing amid the turmoil.

"There’s no benefit," she stated. "No deal. No profit. No return."

Her pitch dropped.

"So why?"

Clara reeled in utter bafflement.

Yes—she could tentatively concede the prince's ill intent toward her.

The nagging disquiet, the persistent chill on her flesh... she could no longer wave it off.

But even granting that—

Why stake so much, Kagami?

Openly battering a royal visitor. Before aristocrats, traders, watchers, and diplomats from afar.

Plunging into a tempest of intrigue that might shatter him, academy favor notwithstanding.

For her sake?

She'd steered folks in the past.

Shaped talks, steered desires, positioned herself as essential, worthwhile—someone to retain.

But this act?

No evident upsides. No strategic yield. No eventual hold.

Her precise, pragmatic, profit-driven mindset slammed into a barrier.

What is his goal?

Is he stupid?

Her shrewd, exacting, coldly logical perspective failed to compute it.

Seeing her distraught, torn look, Kagami erupted in chuckles.

"What are you even talking about?"

he said, rubbing his jaw.

"Benefits? Hahaha. I knew you were kinda weird, but I didn’t think you were this funny too."

"Huh...?"

"Why would I need a benefit to protect you?"

he went on, truly bemused.

"We’re friends, aren’t we?"

"F... friends?"

"Or was that just me?" he tacked on with a lopsided smile. "Ouch. That hurts, you know."

Then his face eased—not theatrically, not gravely—just... sincerely.

"But either way,"

he said,

"I don’t need gold, money, favors, or any of that crap. That bastard was about to do something messed up. I saw it. That’s all."

"That’s... all?" Clara queried softly.

"Yeah. That’s all."

He shrugged.

"I don’t know how distrustful you are of people, but trust me—I didn’t have any other intention. I just wanted to protect you. In that moment."

Her mind ground to a halt.

A strange warmth bloomed in her heart—unfamiliar, unsettling, beyond measure.

No contracts.

No bargains.

No returns.

Just... action.

Clara gazed at Kagami, still wholly perplexed, while he grinned easily and nudged her arm with a soft jab.

"If you feel bad," he said, "just come visit me, yeah?"

With those words, apparently content, he pivoted and trailed the captain meekly.

"Kagami!"

He stopped and looked over. "Yeah?"

But ere Clara could utter more—

"Hey! Clara, what happened?"

Janica and Lucas had at last reached the turmoil, faces etched with bewilderment as they scanned the sentries, the damaged room, Kagami now led away and vanishing in a flash, and the barely breathing prince hauled off.

"Why are they taking Kagami?"

"Isn’t that guy the prince just a while ago?"

"Hy Clara tell us what exactly—"

Yet amid their calls, amid the surrounding frenzy—

Clara's thoughts lay utterly vacant.

For the first instance in her years, she found no value to assign to the emotion stirring within.