How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 726: Festival Champion 4

While Riley and Snow were absent from the academy, a significant number of events transpired—occurrences that reshaped the existing order in subtle yet profound ways.

However, the majority of these developments went unnoticed by the pair.

For Riley, at that particular juncture, none of it held any real consequence.

The ongoing trial extended far beyond initial expectations, and the peculiar events unfolding in the north seemed to carry a fleeting impact, significant in the moment but ultimately hollow once concluded.

Yet, his return was now a reality.

The academy, however, had not paused its progression in his absence.

That familiar, insidious sense of pressure lingered, a feeling Riley knew all too well.

The primary storylines had continued their unfolding course, unhindered by his temporary departure.

They advanced independently, adhering to their established trajectory.

As anticipated.

A substantial portion of the major plot points within Act 4 had already reached their conclusion without his direct involvement.

The remaining narrative threads were of a more intimate nature, each intertwined with the primary heroines, developing independently.

His capacity to directly intervene in these matters was now quite limited.

At this juncture, the sole event of true significance was the upcoming Continental Grand Festival.

This particular occasion was not merely another festivity.

If the established timeline held true, this gathering might represent the final period of normalcy the academy would experience.

The last time individuals could engage in revelry without an impending sense of dread.

This implied a singular certainty.

If it was destined to occur, then its impact must be substantial.

Riley exhaled softly as he entered the academy's bustling commercial district.

The area teemed with activity, a vibrant tableau of intertwined voices echoing across crowded thoroughfares lined with countless vendor stalls.

Should any alterations have transpired during his absence, this locale would undoubtedly be the first to reveal them.

His progress was halted abruptly.

"Young Master Riley?"

He ceased his movement.

Turning partially, his gaze fell upon a servant exuding an air of palpable nervousness, his posture rigid.

"You are?"

"I—I am merely a humble attendant of the Del Luna Royal Family..." the man stammered, his head dipping in deference. "P-Please, this is an urgent matter. Our— no, Her Highness, Princess Stacia... she requires your assistance!"

A frown creased Riley's brow.

This development was... unanticipated.

"...Show me the way."

He had intended to assist Stacia, given the unexpected turn of events, but....

—

What is this?

The realization struck him the instant the door sealed shut behind them.

An unnerving silence pervaded the room.

And at this precise moment—

"Please... just stay still like that... and hold me tighter..."

Stacia was enfolding him in her embrace.

No, 'enfolding' did not fully capture the intensity of her grip.

She was coiled around him, her arms secured with an unyielding pressure, as if relinquishing her hold was an impossibility.

They were situated on her bed, the yielding mattress dipping slightly beneath their combined weight.

Her nightwear appeared... insubstantial. Barely sufficient to veil the radiant warmth of her form pressed against his.

Her skin radiated an intense heat.

Not merely warm—scorching.

Riley remained momentarily frozen, taken aback by the abruptness of the situation.

His hands hovered uncertainly before finding a position that would avoid exacerbating the circumstances.

A breathtaking princess clinging to you with such fervor?

Under ordinary conditions, Riley would have responded quite differently to such an intimate situation.

He was neither oblivious nor inexperienced. Anyone in his predicament would likely have displayed some form of reaction—bewilderment, discomfort, perhaps even annoyance.

But at this exact moment?

Such considerations were secondary.

The heat emanating from Stacia's body was abnormal.

It surpassed the simple warmth generated by proximity; it felt volatile, akin to an internal force spiraling beyond control.

Even the subtle ebb and flow of mana surrounding her appeared irregular, fluctuating in a manner that unsettled him.

"...Junior Stacia," Riley stated, his voice deepening slightly, adopting a more serious tone. "Are you experiencing mana disruption?"

A brief silence ensued.

Then—

"...Fufu... I suppose one could describe it as such."

Her voice carried a softer timbre than usual, tinged with a slight tremor, yet the underlying playful inflection remained, though faint.

"Although... this feels somewhat distinct from the Mana Disruption Sickness I endured previously..." she elaborated, shifting imperceptibly closer, an almost instinctive seeking of further contact. "This affliction seems more... essence-related, if I were to articulate it..."

Riley's brow furrowed.

This was not an encouraging development.

"Last time, your mana, Senior, was sufficient to stabilize my own..." Stacia continued, her voice faltering slightly. "But now... I doubt even that would prove adequate..."

Her embrace tightened momentarily around him.

"...It appears I overexerted myself in my efforts to capture your attention back then."

There it was.

Woven into her lighthearted delivery, he could discern it clearly.

"I sincerely hope my efforts were satisfactory... at the very least~"

Riley's expression softened, albeit slightly.

He recalled that particular confrontation.

Her engagement with Flamme and Rose was not a mere happenstance. She possessed a motive, a specific objective, and whether she vocalized it explicitly or not, a part of that objective had been directed towards him.

"...Do not bear too much self-recrimination," he advised after a brief pause. "You achieved the outcome you desired."“Fufu… perhaps,” she responded, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “But I’ve ended up inconveniencing you again, Senior…” Her tone took on a slight shift then—playful, yet undeniably probing. “…Or should I still address you as Master?” Riley let out a quiet exhale through his nose. “We’ve moved far beyond formalities, haven’t we?” “…You mean?” “Call me whatever suits you.” It was straightforward. Uncomplicated. At this juncture, titles held little significance. Stacia fell silent for a brief moment. Then— “Fufu… well then… I’ll gladly do so…” A subtle alteration occurred in the way she regarded him. “…Riley~” That particular inflection. Riley’s eyes narrowed slightly. Something about her demeanor felt… peculiar. Not precisely perilous—but not entirely innocuous either. Still, he made no move to distance himself. Her mana, volatile as it was, seemed to settle—just a fraction—while she remained in close proximity like this. The intense heat hadn’t subsided, but at least it wasn’t escalating. Therefore, he allowed the situation to persist. Even if— …this entire predicament felt far too abrupt. “Anyway… if mere physical contact is sufficient to stabilize you, then is a full embrace truly necessary?” Riley maintained a calm demeanor, though a thread of doubt laced his words. From a purely pragmatic viewpoint, this seemed… excessive. Stacia offered no immediate reply. Instead, she shifted subtly against him, her arms tightening infinitesimally, as if to convey her point more emphatically without uttering a sound. “Yes,” she affirmed softly after a pause. “Absolutely. The most profound form of connection is undoubtedly a hug, you understand…?” A fleeting silence ensued, and then, as was her habit— “But if you truly wished to bring me contentment, then… perhaps something more might suffice for today…” Riley simply gazed at her. No outward reaction. No prompt verbal response. Just a quiet, impassive stare. “…Fufu~ relax,” she chuckled lightly, clearly amused. “I’m merely jesting. You do tend to become quite flustered over such matters, Senior…”. Her voice retained that familiar teasing undertone, light yet distinctly intentional. “It’s not as though we haven’t shared closeness before.” Riley’s brow twitched imperceptibly. *This and that are different.* The thought crossed his mind, but he refrained from voicing it. Engaging in an argument would likely yield no tangible change. Instead, he simply exhaled a quiet sigh. Stacia registered his sigh. “I’m aware that circumstances surrounding you remain… rather complex,” she continued, her tone softening slightly. “So, I won’t press the issue at this moment.” Her embrace loosened just a degree—not releasing him, but easing sufficiently to indicate her sincerity. “The mere fact that you are here is already more than enough for me… my hero.” There was a touch more sincerity in that declaration. Less playful banter. But it was short-lived. “…However,” she added, her voice deepening once more, “should a time ever arise where there is an opening for me… do not turn me away.” She didn’t state it explicitly. It wasn’t necessary. Riley understood. And that was precisely why he offered no immediate response. It wasn’t a matter of disliking her. That wasn’t the core of the issue. The timing, the prevailing circumstances, everything encompassing his current situation—these were not elements he could simply disregard. Introducing further complications now would only exacerbate matters, irrespective of how unburdened she made it sound. Nevertheless— “If your feelings remain unchanged…” he stated slowly, carefully selecting his words, “then I shall address it appropriately when the opportune moment arrives.” Stacia’s gaze lifted slightly. “It’s a promise, alright?” “…Yes.” A momentary pause. “I promise.” She offered a smile at his words. Not the teasing kind—something more subdued, more content. “Fufu… good.” Her eyelids began to droop as the tension within her body finally started to dissipate. “I realize I’m becoming somewhat of a nuisance…” she murmured, her voice gradually diminishing in volume, tinged with weariness now. “But… can we remain like this for a little while longer?” Her hold didn’t tighten this time—it simply maintained its steady presence. “…I’m certain you have pressing matters, but… just until I drift off to sleep.” All traces of teasing had vanished from her tone. Just a simple, earnest request. Riley didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” And for once, neither of them spoke another word afterwards. The room settled into a profound quiet, punctuated only by the slow, consistent cadence of her breathing as it gradually normalized. … Lumen Academy. Even prior to these recent events, its renown extended across the entire continent. A place spoken of with a unique blend of reverence and deference—as if situated a tier above all else. But now? Its stature had grown exponentially. The Continental Grand Festival had done more than merely attract attention; it had forcibly drawn the collective gaze of the continent directly upon the academy. Tourists, dignitaries, merchants, scholars from other academies… the venue was overwhelmed. Every thoroughfare teemed with people, every edifice pulsed with vibrant life. Wealth cascaded in an seemingly unending torrent. Fame followed in its wake, an inseparable companion. Naturally, not all of this intensified scrutiny was without its shadows. Whispers persisted.

Whispers circulated about clandestine events—shady organizations, clandestine cults, matters deemed entirely out of place for such a setting. These were spoken of in hushed tones, as if utterance might lend them reality.

And yet...

The ongoing festival largely overshadowed these hushed concerns.

Merriment, music, and the throng of people—these sounds were more potent than fear. Or at least, sufficiently distracting to relegate apprehension to the periphery of consciousness.

Nevertheless, the academy maintained vigilance.

Security measures were escalated to an unprecedented degree. Both overt and covert patrols were ubiquitous. Wards, detection arrays, and controlled access points were all implemented.

External assistance was even enlisted.

Third-party mercenaries were contracted as a precautionary measure against unforeseen eventualities.

Ostensibly, the atmosphere was one of celebration.

Beneath the surface, however, it felt more akin to preparation.

Regardless, the academy's progression continued unabated.

And with such concentrated attention, a novel form of engagement began to emerge.

Entertainment.

Not merely the customary performances or competitions, but something distinct. Something captivating, regardless of one's location.

"A pleasant morning to my esteemed academy peers and honored guests from across the continent!"

A voice suddenly boomed, imbued with immense energy. "It is I, your host—Duncan! And I once again bid you welcome to another splendid day—!!!"

Across the academy grounds, ethereal screens materialized. Gleaming, translucent displays hovered above thoroughfares, within dining establishments, and even in open plazas. Spectators paused their activities, their conversations halting mid-utterance as their gaze drifted upward.

Some congregated in groups; others observed from their current positions.

The arrangement was inclusive.

All were able to witness the spectacle.

This was a new development.

A recent initiative by the academy that achieved widespread acclaim with remarkable swiftness.

Live broadcasts.

What was previously disseminated through hearsay or belated reports was now unfolding in real-time, accessible to all.

Competitions, announcements, significant occurrences—

Every event was being showcased.

And the audience was enthralled.

Yet, the live duels were not the sole source of fascination.

In fact, they occupied a secondary position in terms of appeal.

The segments that truly commanded attention, drawing the largest gatherings and sparking conversations long after their conclusion, were the interviews.

Those moments when participants' facades exhibited the slightest crack.

"Now, esteemed viewers, I am aware of the immense anticipation surrounding the forthcoming semi-final matches!" Duncan's voice resonated anew, amplified and electric. "But before we delve into that momentous occasion... we are privileged to introduce the individual who currently occupies everyone's thoughts!"

A deliberate pause ensued, calculated to heighten suspense.

"The undisputed, eagerly awaited, number one—a truly charismatic—my apologies—the most promising contender predicted to emerge victorious!"

A smattering of chuckles rippled through the gathered onlookers.

Duncan offered no serious attempt at correction.

"Let us herald our guest of honor—Riley Hell!!!"

The screens flared momentarily.

"And that's not all!" he added hastily. "We are also graced by the presence of a special guest—a distinguished senior from Lumen Academy's prestigious Magic Department! She will be assisting us in our analysis and posing insightful questions today—Miss Evelyn!"

The atmosphere intensified further.

"Hooray! Are you not all electrified by the prospect of hearing from our premier contender?!"

The visual feed transitioned instantaneously.

The projected image flickered—

—and focused upon Riley.

He stood adjacent to Duncan, caught unawares in the sudden spotlight.

His expression remained largely unchanged.

A neutral demeanor, steady and composed, was directed towards the hovering recording artifact before him. A subtle current of inquiry was perceptible, yet nothing beyond that.

No overt excitement.

No noticeable nervousness.

If anything, he appeared contemplative, perhaps attempting to ascertain the circumstances that led him to this juncture.

For, in truth—

He had just concluded his engagement with Stacia.

Having departed, believing a moment of respite was finally at hand—

—he was abruptly enveloped into this situation.