How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 662: Light 3

It is often said that a person’s identity is defined by the bonds they forge with others.

The logic follows that the more you converse with someone, strive to understand them, and invest time in their company, the more tangible their existence becomes to you.

In that regard, the sentiment held weight.

As you uncover the depths of another soul, their presence in your heart grows increasingly heavy.

Within Rose’s formerly tedious and colorless world, concepts like "special" or "love" had been reserved exclusively for one man—Riley.

It was through him that the seeds of warmth first began to sprout within her.

Because of his influence, the flickering light she had started to perceive didn't just illuminate her own path, but began to reach toward those she held dear as well.

That was precisely why—

She felt a sense of bewilderment.

It was strange that while standing before the final resting place of Dorothy, a tangle of nameless emotions pulled at her heartstrings.

Joy, grief, tenderness, and remorse swirled together in a restless mixture that refused to quiet down.

Though she was aware they shared the same blood as sisters, their paths in life could not have been further apart.

To Rose, Dorothy Gale was essentially a stranger.

And yet... she could not ignore the crushing weight of Dorothy's tragic conclusion. It felt fundamentally wrong. A quiet sort of malice. It was the kind of melancholy that didn't wail, but instead chose to haunt the edges of her mind.

"Oz..." Rose whispered, her eyes never leaving the cold stone of the grave.

"What kind of person was she back then?"

Oz drifted beside her, his features masked in an unreadable expression as he paused to reflect.

"She was radiant," he eventually answered. "Full of life. A smile was always on her face. One might even compare her to Alice Holloway... though she possessed a bit more maturity."

"I see..."

Rose allowed his description to sink in.

Despite never having met Dorothy face-to-face, the mental image she constructed felt surprisingly vivid. Someone full of cheer.

Someone reliable.

Someone who likely shouldered far more burdens than she ever let on.

Thinking of the girl who had once reached the pinnacle as the flawless student council president, Rose could only shake her head in gentle sorrow.

How much misery did you have to endure in solitude...?

A gust of wind swept past, lightly tossing her hair as her golden gaze remained fixed on the name etched into the monument.

Dorothy Gale...

In the end, she wasn't even permitted to keep her own name.

Rose found that detail particularly heartless.

A name is meant to serve as evidence of one's existence, a testament that they truly mattered.

Yet even that legacy had been stripped away, buried under a mountain of falsehoods and political convenience.

Who could have guessed that the world she once disregarded would prove so intricate when viewed closely?

They say that the more brilliant the light, the more profound the shadows it casts.

Rose exhaled a slow, measured breath.

"It appears your whole life was intended to bring light to mine," she murmured. "And you succeeded... my dear sister. Even if my knowledge of you is shallow... allow me to at least set things right."

"You seem truly determined to see this through..."

Oz’s tone was steady, yet it carried a significant weight of concern.

Rose gave a firm nod and rose to her feet. The breeze continued to play with her hair.

"My family—or rather, my father—embraced this destiny for himself," she declared. "And..."

Her golden eyes shifted back toward the headstone.

"I am simply attempting to mend what I am able. At the very least, she deserves to be recognized for who she was."

"The path you are choosing will make many things far more difficult."

"That is undeniable," Rose answered without a second thought. "But wouldn't you prefer to see him endure a life of disgrace... rather than allowing him a peaceful conclusion?"

"..."

Oz offered no rebuttal.

After a brief silence, he gave a slow nod of agreement.

"Furthermore, the world has been too quick to label the innocent as monsters lately," Rose added. "My sister does not deserve such a title."

She tightened her fist at her side.

"To me, she is the most brilliant starlight visible right now."

A flicker of warmth stirred within her. In her mind, she offered a silent thanks to Riley—for granting her the perspective to see this side of reality, and for showing her that even a monochrome existence could be filled with color.

"My sister is no monster. She is no villain," Rose stated with conviction. "She was, and shall always remain, a light of the Brilliance household."

Oz remained a silent witness, letting her declaration hang in the air.

In that moment, his own determination became as unyielding as hers.

....

Inside a room swallowed by shadows, a man released a deep, exhausted sigh, sinking further into the cushions of his chair.

"Ugh... tsk, damn it all..."

As his grip failed, an empty bottle clattered and rolled across the floor.

"Milord," a steady voice called out from the darkness, "I suggest it would be wise to reduce your intake of spirits."

"Haaah?"

Duke Raymond Brilliance raised his head with great effort, his vision swimming and his annoyance evident despite his intoxication.

In this pathetic state, he bore little resemblance to the prestigious noble the public knew.

The refinement and authority that once defined his character had evaporated. His hair was a mess, his garments were disheveled and creased, and his slumped posture made him look less like a powerful Duke and more like a broken man drowning in his own regrets.

Roberto, his loyal butler, moved through the room with practiced efficiency, clearing away shards of glass and discarded bottles. Though he worked quietly, his face betrayed a sense of deep concern.

This conduct—entirely beneath a member of the Brilliance house—had persisted for several days.

From the moment Raymond reached the academy, he had shuttered himself away, ignoring all guests and abandoning his duties.

Roberto felt he should have known better.

He should have prevented his master from ever coming to this place.

He was well aware of how fractured the internal dynamics of the Brilliance family were, particularly regarding their "star."

Even so, he hadn't anticipated that Duke Raymond would descend into such a vulgar reliance on alcohol.

"Just... leave me be, Roberto," Raymond groaned. "I need something to dull the pain."

"I can overlook this once," Roberto answered evenly. "A second time might even be understandable. However, remaining barricaded in your chambers for three days and nights is an act I cannot simply ignore, milord."

Raymond let out a sharp scoff.

"What are you, my nursemaid?" he barked. "Get out. And bring me more bottles."

Roberto paused, observing the man for a beat before letting out a soft sigh.

He understood the root of this behavior.

The Duke’s brief, strained encounter with Lady Rose had clearly rattled him—but that alone wouldn't be enough to shatter a man of Raymond's stature.

The true catalyst was the private audience he had held with the Emperor.

Following that abrupt luncheon, once the other attendees had left, the Emperor had commanded Raymond to remain.

There were no witnesses.

No servants present.

Only the two of them remained.

The details of what transpired in that room never reached Roberto’s ears.

Yet the aftermath was unmistakable.

Whatever the Emperor had said had cut deep into the Duke’s soul—and now, Duke Raymond Brilliance was paying the toll for his actions, one bottle at a time.

If such behavior helped his master find some peace, Roberto might have allowed it.

He knew the Duke wasn't the sort to simply fall apart under the weight of his own thoughts.

But this occasion felt different.

"...Everything was supposed to be perfect..."

The faint mumble escaped the Duke’s lips, barely audible.

This cannot continue.

Roberto stopped his cleaning, his fingers tightening against the cloth in his hand.

He had heard that phrase multiple times over the last few days.

With every repetition, it sounded more hollow.

After considering his words, he spoke again.

"By the way, milord."

"Hm? You still haven't left?"

Raymond didn't even bother to look in his direction.

"There is a match scheduled for this afternoon involving the young lady," Roberto mentioned tentatively. "Would you be interested in attending to watch?"

A heavy silence filled the room for a moment.

"...What would be the point?" Raymond sneered, sinking back into his seat. "That would only result in Rose severing her ties with the family for good. Truly... what a self-centered girl. Threatening to walk away from her lineage if I so much as show my face to her again." He let out a dry, bitter laugh. "Isn't it pathetic?"

Roberto paused, then shook his head slowly.

"I don't think that is the whole truth, milord. Perhaps showing a sign of genuine care—or affection—could alter the young lady's perspective."

"That is because you are ignorant of the facts, Roberto."

Raymond’s voice turned cold and sharp.

"Forgive me, milord," Roberto countered calmly, "but I believe I grasp the young lady's heart better than you do—at least right now. I truly understand your hesitation. However, if you wish to repair what is broken, taking a few painful steps forward is far better than hiding from it."

Raymond went quiet.

For a fleeting second, it seemed as though the butler's words had made an impact.

Then the Duke clicked his tongue and dismissed him with a wave.

"Just go and fetch more wine," Raymond grumbled. "I have enough on my mind. Don't add to it."

Roberto’s jaw tightened slightly.

"...As you wish, milord."

He turned to leave, unsatisfied, yet he held his tongue.

Ultimately, there was only so much a servant could do to guide his master.

Certain choices... had to be made by the master alone.

The Duke slowly rotated his chair to stare out the window.

Past the pane of glass, the academy grounds were peaceful, bathed in the muted light of the afternoon.

In the distance, students walked by laughing, completely oblivious to the emotional tempest raging in that dark room.

And then—

The memory of a young girl surfaced in his mind.

The sun had been so blindingly bright on the day he first truly recognized that child.

Raymond pressed his palm against his face, his fingers digging into his forehead.

"...Is this your vengeance upon me, Dorothy?"

Everything had been executed perfectly.

His schemes were flawless.

Calculated to the last detail.

He had dealt with that illegitimate child in a manner he felt was appropriate for her status—or so he had convinced himself.

He was aware her existence should never have been kept in the shadows, yet wasn't this the most beneficial outcome?

He had provided her with a place, a function, and a goal.

A tidy conclusion that fit the role of the pillar she had always wanted to be for their house.

He had even ensured that the woman who gave birth to her was "handled."

It wasn't his fault that woman died without his knowledge.

Every vow he had made to the girl had been kept.

And yet—

Why was he suffering this retribution?

Why was his world starting to crumble now?

His chest felt constricted.

"Raymond... it would be prudent for you to confront your transgressions now..."

The Emperor’s voice replayed in his head.

The words had been delivered with a calm, almost gentle tone, yet they shook him more than any overt threat.

A simple piece of advice—but one that cut through the layers of deception he had wrapped himself in.

A sin he had suppressed for years was now fighting its way back to the light.

And he was well aware of it.

He should have moved faster.

He should have eradicated the threat before it could take root.

But now...

The time for that had passed.

All he could do was brace himself for what was coming.

Raymond reached toward a small cabinet nearby and retrieved an object.

A small, dark stone sat in the center of his palm.

It was smooth and icy to the touch.

[This shall fulfill the desires you truly crave...]

He could still hear that voice clearly.

That peculiar woman who had crossed his path during his travels between his duchy and the academy.

It had been a fleeting meeting—strange and unsettling—but somehow... it was impossible to forget.

It felt like destiny, in a way he still couldn't quite articulate.

Raymond gazed at the stone in total silence.

And gradually—

A sinister glint flickered within his eyes.