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

Following Kagami's uproar, the grand hall plunged into total disorder.

Soft whispers evolved into buzzing murmurs.

Murmurs grew into fervent discussions.

Soon enough, guesses, partial facts, and blatant gossip raced across the hall like a raging blaze.

This was entirely expected.

The magnitude of the event stood without parallel. A visitor—actually, an overseas prince—had been felled right in the heart of the Lumen Commerce Association Ball.

The attacker was no nameless ruffian, but rather a top-tier S-class pupil from the academy.

Worse still, the security detail—hailed as the best hired protectors on the continent—had failed utterly to intervene promptly.

For a gathering that boasted total security, this disaster proved devastating.

From its founding, the Lumen Commerce Association Ball had never endured such a severe occurrence.

All attendees underwent thorough vetting—be they business moguls, influential backers, or vetted diplomatic figures.

Just gaining access demanded multiple screenings, agreements, and arcane inspections.

Yet somehow—

An event like this had breached their defenses.

Doubts started to surface about the association's competence.

If a prince could almost be slain amid the assembly, what did that reveal about their safeguards?

If a figure like Kagami could release such force prior to capture, how secure were the rest of the guests?

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

Within the game, a comparable moment unfolded.

However, it concluded swiftly.

Lucas would advance, his golden gaze aflame with holy power, immediately revealing Prince Alain's real nature—a demonic worshiper concealed by noble lineage.

The facts would emerge at once, warranting Alain's prompt detention... or death, based on the gamer's decision.

Normalcy would return in mere moments.

Yet this reality differed from the game.

In this world, Kagami lacked any godly gift to uncover infernal decay.

No holy command to compel revelations.

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

Without evidence—

To outsiders, he appeared as nothing more than a savage school bully who attacked a princely visitor openly.

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

However...

It wouldn't truly count.

Riley evaluated the circumstances in a flash, his mind racing ahead of the turmoil surrounding him.

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

His visage was nearly demolished—smashed past the repair of standard healing spells.

Now, Alain's life hinged on just two paths: swift relocation to the Church or calling a senior priest.

Regardless, the result would be identical.

As soon as holy energy touched him, the reality would surface.

Secret holy knights still patrolled the academy premises—Church operatives stationed to spot such evil.

When sacred spells contacted Alain's form, the infernal stain inside him would inevitably come to light.

And then, immediate death would probably follow.

Legally speaking, Kagami was protected.

At least... for the most part.

That said, repercussions weren't absent.

Even with Alain exposed as a demon follower, his princely status remained.

Striking him—particularly so openly—constituted an insult to his kingdom.

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

But involving the Church inevitably?

Riley believed Zelova wouldn't risk escalating. No rational leader would challenge the Church for a guilty blasphemer.

Overall, the fallout would be limited.

This wasn't the situation Riley anticipated—not by a long shot—but he couldn't change the unfolding now.

If possible, Kagami had merely hastened an inevitable result.

Nevertheless... it was regrettable.

Prince Alain's removal greatly reduced the demonic queen's likelihood of acting.

As in the game, she was wary—overly suspicious.

Losing a key underling, particularly a potential royal host, would drive her deeper into hiding.

In other words, a cockroach like Asmodeus.

She'd probe, naturally.

But outright moves? Doubtful.

Riley looked over at Clara, where Lucas and Janica had recently shown up, faces puzzled as they questioned her intently.

For an instant, he thought of joining them.

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

Handling Lucas at this point would just cause trouble.

With that in mind, Riley averted from the increasing crowd and surveyed the attendees—eyes hunting for a known silhouette with silver locks and serene poise.

Snow ought to be nearby.

...

Post-uproar, the ball's evening proceeded like all was normal.

Naturally, bits of talk lingered in the vast hall—murmurs tinged with intrigue, guesses, and subtle dread—but soon overshadowed by chuckles, toasting goblets, and practiced grins.

Quickly, the event receded to the periphery, treated as a minor hassle, not a signal.

Commerce took precedence.

Ever place gains above all...

Riley observed the throng with aloof eyes.

This truly embodies the realm of wealth.

Skilled in routine, the organizers intervened—providing comforts, shifting focus, and easing tensions with refined speech and costly vintages.

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

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

As anticipated, she didn't linger on it.

With Riley's steady promise that the matter would resolve on its own, Snow just agreed and proceeded, her focus elsewhere.

Their talk flowed smoothly—from casual comments on his alleged "training," then to weightier topics.

The northern regions.

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

It was serene, effective, and oddly soothing—arrangements born from confidence, not haste.

As the musicians shifted to their last tune, the evening started to conclude.

A cozy, tender tune permeated the space, smooth and undulating, echoing the faint lunar glow pouring from the tall panes.

Aristocrats and famous traders joined the dance floor with selected companions, every motion precise, every grin concealing motives—each waltz a silent deal.

It was, without doubt, a lovely melody.

Lucas and Janica seized the opportunity.

Although Lucas seemed reluctant and a bit unaware, Janica pulled him out resolutely, her giggles lively while leading his rigid steps.

Their differences attracted several entertained looks.

From the second-level veranda, Clara rested silently on the balustrade.

She observed the twirlers underneath with a blank face, gaze distant, mind wandering away from the tunes and illumination.

The surroundings progressed, yet her thoughts stayed apart—trapped amid strange affection and a faith starting to fracture silently.

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

"Fufu... this is rather anticlimactic compared to how I imagined the night would end," Snow murmured gently.

The chilly evening breeze bore her words as she stared at the constellations.

"But it's more personal, right?" Riley responded.

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

"Yes..."

Together, they lingered under the vast heavens, observing the twinkling stars quietly.

No spectators.

No trades.

No disguises.

While the last musical strains resounded softly from inside, they rocked softly side by side—fingers linked, souls in harmony.

In that serene instant, distant from riches and drive, a wordless promise flowered between them.

.....

In a hushed nook of his personal quarters, Duke Raymond Brilliance remained still.

The lofty balcony entrances remained ajar, letting frigid nocturnal breeze infiltrate and offering a clear sight of the starry firmament outside.

Lunar light cascaded over the stone tiles, casting elongated shades that adhered to the partitions like mute observers.

Raymond's countenance stayed partially veiled in gloom.

The former radiant nobility that characterized the Duke of Brilliance had vanished.

His stance slumped, shoulders weighed down, and his once keen attractiveness now showed faint yet clear signs of years.

Deep amber orbs—formerly beaming with command and assurance—appeared dimmed, tense, utterly fatigued.

He held a partially emptied wine flask.

Under his seat, tossed haphazardly on the ground, were multiple vacant containers of potent spirits—evident signs this wasn't a brief lapse.

He'd been imbibing from dawn. Maybe earlier.

Hours had merged into vagueness.

In front of him, on an exquisitely made desk, piled papers—requests, monetary summaries, land conflicts, letters requiring a lord's focus.

Even distant from his domains, duties pursued him unyieldingly.

But Raymond merely gazed at them.

His thoughts wandered afar.

"...Rose."

The name slipped from his mouth in a murmur, scarcely above the breeze entering the balcony portals.

Hearing it, an inner change occurred—a delicate determination emerging through the haze of drink and sorrow. Several days had passed.

Days in quiet.

Days evading.

And inwardly, he realized this couldn't persist.

With a muted thud, the flask fell from his grasp and tumbled down.

Raymond sat up a bit and glanced at the item gripped in his opposite palm.

A shadowy gem.

Its exterior was eerily sleek, absorbing illumination instead of bouncing it back.

As he fixed his eyes on it, energy started to awaken—slender wisps of dark vapor twisting from the rock like animated shades, throbbing subtly with a foreboding beat.

Raymond gulped deeply.

"...You can grant my wish, right?"

The stone throbbed once.

Then—

Emptiness.

Total obscurity engulfed him entirely.

While his form stayed in place, his awareness was ripped free, sunk into an abyss that wiped out all bearings of path, noise, and duration.

Terror rose as his bewildered psyche tried to cry out, yet even sound was taken.

Then, from all sides and none simultaneously—

[What is your wish?]

The sound murmured straight into his essence.

It held a chilling calm, like that envisioned for deities—gentle, immense, and compelling.

Yet under that godly tone hid something much more sinister.

Something primordial, burdensome, and indescribably vicious.

Raymond's breathing faltered.

His fingers shook.

"I... wish—"

The phrase departed his lips softly, unsteadily.

In the infinite blackness at his back, something grinned.