How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 679: A nightfall end

Following Kagami's uproar, chaos gripped the hall completely.

Soft whispers quickly swelled into buzzing murmurs.

Those murmurs escalated into intense guesses and debates.

Soon enough, wild guesses, partial facts, and blatant gossip raced across the hall faster than flames through dry grass.

That outcome was entirely expected.

The sheer size of the disturbance was unlike anything seen before. A visitor—not just any, but a prince from another land—had been brutally attacked right in the heart of the Lumen Commerce Association Ball.

The attacker was no random street punk, but rather a top-tier S-class student from the academy, one held in high regard.

Adding to the disaster, the guards—renowned as some of the best hired protectors across the continent—had failed utterly to intervene in time.

For a gathering that boasted total security, this disaster was nothing short of ruinous.

From the day the Lumen Commerce Association Ball began, no event of this severity had ever marred it.

All attendees underwent thorough vetting—be they business giants, influential backers, or vetted figures of political worth.

Gaining access demanded multiple levels of history checks, agreements, and enchanted examinations.

Despite all that—

A breach like this had occurred.

Doubts started targeting the association's reliability.

If a prince could face near-death in the hall's center, what trust could anyone place in their defenses?

If a figure like Kagami could release such force before capture, how protected were the rest of the guests?

Above all—what exactly had transpired between him and Prince Alain?

Within the game, an event much like this did unfold.

However, it wrapped up swiftly.

Lucas would advance, his golden gaze aflame with godly power, and reveal Prince Alain's hidden nature right there—a demon devotee concealed by his noble lineage.

The revelation would burst forth at once, excusing Alain's swift capture... or death, based on the player's decision.

Calm would return in mere moments.

Yet this reality diverged from the game.

Here in this world, Kagami lacked any holy gift to uncover demonic stains.

No celestial command to drag secrets into light.

He relied solely on his gut feelings, past knowledge, and the subtle yet clear odor of demonic mana that compelled his strike.

Lacking evidence—

To outsiders, he appeared as nothing more than a savage school bully who had publicly battered a royal visitor.

That tiny gap—seemingly minor—altered the entire course.

However...

It wouldn't truly count for much.

Riley sized up the scene in a flash, his mind racing ahead of the turmoil swirling nearby.

The on-site emergency healers in the hall fell far short of handling Alain's wounds.

His features were nearly smashed to pulp—damaged past the reach of standard healing spells.

Now, Alain's life hung on just two paths: rushed delivery to the Church or calling in a senior priest.

In either case, the result stayed the same.

As soon as sacred energy touched him, the secret would surface.

Hidden paladins still patrolled the academy's grounds—Church spies stationed exactly to spot such foulness.

When holy magic contacted Alain's form, the demonic corruption rotting inside would emerge inevitably.

And upon that reveal, instant execution would likely follow.

Legally speaking, Kagami stood protected.

Or... nearly so.

That assurance didn't erase all fallout.

Even if Alain's demonic allegiance came to light, he held princely status.

Striking him—particularly in such open view—counted as an insult to his homeland.

Based on how Zelova's royals framed the attack, Kagami might turn into a diplomatic burden, an easy target for blame.

But with the Church bound to step in?

Riley figured Zelova wouldn't risk escalating. No wise leader provoked the Church for a doomed blasphemer.

Overall, the fallout would stay limited.

This turn of events strayed far from what Riley had foreseen—but he couldn't shift the tide anymore.

If anything, Kagami had merely hastened an inevitable result that loomed regardless.

Even so... it felt regrettable.

Removing Prince Alain sharply reduced the odds of the demonic queen stirring.

Much as in the game, she embodied extreme caution—bordering on obsession.

Losing a key underling, one primed as a royal host, would drive her deeper into hiding.

In other words, a cockroach like Asmodeus.

Investigation would follow, naturally.

But bold moves? Doubtful.

Riley cast a look at Clara, where Lucas and Janica had recently joined, their faces showing bewilderment as they sought details from her.

For an instant, he pondered going over.

...But he dismissed it with a head shake.

Interacting with Lucas at this juncture would only bring trouble.

With that in mind, Riley averted from the swelling group of stares and started surveying the throng—his eyes hunting for a certain silver-haired form radiating serene poise.

Snow had to be nearby somewhere.

...

Post-uproar, the ball's evening pressed on as if the disruption never struck.

Naturally, bits of talk lingered in the vast hall—hushed exchanges laced with intrigue, conjecture, and barely hidden dread—but these soon drowned under chuckles, toasting glasses, and polished grins.

In short order, the disturbance slipped to the sidelines, treated as a mere hitch instead of a dire signal.

Commerce always took precedence.

Profit must come first...

Riley observed the gathering with cool detachment.

This truly embodies a realm ruled by wealth.

The organizers moved with smooth precision—providing comforts, shifting focus, and easing tensions through graceful speech and lavish drinks.

The Lumen Commerce Association Ball picked up again, its vibe patched with superficial worry and contrived expressions.

Riley located Snow shortly and gave a quick rundown of the events.

True to form, she didn't linger on it.

With Riley's steady promise that things would sort themselves out, Snow just agreed and shifted ahead, her focus drawn elsewhere.

Their chat flowed easily—from casual notes on his alleged "training" to weightier topics.

The northern regions.

They covered paths, schedules, and circumstances, finally agreeing on a provisional timeline.

The exchange stayed subdued, streamlined, and oddly soothing—arrangements born from confidence, not haste.

As the musicians shifted to their closing tune, the evening started to fade.

A soothing, tender tune wafted through the space, gentle and fluid, echoing the soft lunar glow pouring from the tall panes.

Elite nobles and famed traders paired up on the dance area, every motion deliberate, every grin concealing motives—each twirl a veiled deal.

Without question, it formed a stunning melody.

Lucas and Janica seized the chance.

While Lucas seemed reluctant and a bit clueless, Janica pulled him out firmly, her chuckles ringing as she led his awkward steps.

Their mismatched styles caught several entertained looks.

From the second-floor overlook, Clara rested silently on the balustrade.

Her face stayed impassive as she eyed the whirl below, gaze distant, mind wandering beyond the sounds and glow.

The surroundings carried forward, yet her thoughts lingered apart—torn between novel affection and a faith structure starting to fracture unseen.

At the same time, on an exterior terrace of the lavish estate—

"Fufu... this feels somewhat underwhelming next to how I pictured the evening closing," Snow murmured gently.

The crisp evening breeze bore her words as she stared at the stars.

"But it's more intimate, isn't it?" Riley responded.

Snow inclined her head, her grip on his fingers firming just a touch.

"Yes..."

Together, they lingered under the vast heavens, observing the stars gleam wordlessly.

No watchers.

No trades.

No facades.

As the last strains of the tune drifted softly from inside, they moved lightly in unison—fingers linked, emotions in harmony.

During that serene instant, distant from riches and schemes, a wordless promise took root between them.

.....

In a secluded spot of his personal quarters, Duke Raymond Brilliance remained still as stone.

The broad balcony entrances yawned open, letting chilly night winds drift in and offering a clear sight of the starry expanse outside.

Lunar light cascaded over the stone tiles, casting elongated shades that hugged the walls like quiet observers.

Half of Raymond's features hid in shadow.

The striking grace that once marked the Duke of Brilliance had vanished.

His frame slumped, shoulders weighed down, and the keen allure he once flaunted now showed faint yet clear signs of wear from years.

His deep gold eyes—once shining with command and assurance—appeared dimmed, tense, drained to the core.

He clutched a bottle of wine, half empty.

Around his seat's base, several vacant flasks of harder spirits littered the ground—undeniable signs this wasn't a brief lapse.

Drinking had started from dawn. Maybe earlier.

Hours had melted into haze.

On the ornate desk before him piled papers—appeals, money ledgers, land quarrels, letters needing a duke's oversight.

Even distant from his domain, duties chased him without mercy.

Still, Raymond merely gazed at the heap.

His focus wandered far.

"...Rose."

The word slipped from his lips in a hush, scarcely above the breeze through the open doors.

At its utterance, a change stirred inside—a brittle determination emerging from the haze of drink and sorrow. Days had passed like this.

Days wrapped in quiet.

Days spent evading.

And inwardly, he realized this path couldn't last.

With a muted thud, the bottle tumbled from his grasp and onto the floor.

Raymond sat up a bit and glanced at the item gripped in his free hand.

A shadowy gem.

Its face gleamed with unnatural polish, absorbing rays instead of bouncing them back.

As he fixed on it, energy stirred—slender wisps of dark vapor rising from the gem like animated shades, throbbing with a sinister beat.

Raymond gulped heavily.

"...You can fulfill my desire, can't you?"

The gem throbbed once.

Then—

Emptiness.

Total void engulfed him entirely.

His form stayed in the chair, but his awareness ripped free, hurled into an abyss that wiped out all bearings, noises, and duration.

Alarm rose as his bewildered thoughts tried to cry out, yet even sound vanished.

Next, from all sides and none—

[What is your wish?]

The tone seeped straight into his essence.

It held an uncanny calm, like tales of deities—gentle, immense, compelling.

But under that godly tone hid something far darker.

Something timeless, crushing, and brutally merciless.

Raymond's breathing caught.

His fingers shook.

"I... wish—"

The phrase emerged softly, unsteadily.

And in the boundless dark at his back, something grinned.