How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Underneath the vast expanse of the night sky, a young child sat huddled in the shadows of an alleyway.

His frail body trembled, his thin hands clutching his chest as he struggled to contain the violent shivers that wracked his frame.

The cold winter air bit mercilessly at his exposed skin, each gust of wind a cruel reminder of his vulnerability.

Disheveled and filthy, he was a pitiful sight, his small figure nearly swallowed by the darkness.

The tattered winter jacket he wore offered little to no protection, its fabric riddled with holes that let the icy wind pass through unchallenged.

His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, visible in the frigid air as white puffs that quickly dissipated.

He sneezed weakly, the sound barely audible, and curled in on himself in a desperate attempt to preserve what little warmth he had left.

His body was failing him—ravaged by sickness and starvation, it was clear he was slowly succumbing to the merciless grip of winter.

Yet, despite the dire circumstances, his piercing blue eyes gazed up at the sky above, filled not with despair, but with quiet defiance.

The stars twinkled faintly in the dark canvas above, as if mocking his struggle, but he refused to look away.

Those eyes, bright and unwavering, seemed to scream against the cruel fate that had been handed to him.

"Hey… are you alright?"

The gentle voice broke through the silence, soft yet filled with concern.

Startled, the boy turned his head toward the source of the sound.

His weary gaze met the figure of a young girl, leaning slightly toward him as she studied his frail form with wide, curious eyes.

In stark contrast to his ragged appearance, she was immaculate.

Her clothes were pristine, a long, elegant coat draped over her shoulders, and her hair shone even under the dim light of the night.

Everything about her exuded a sense of refinement and privilege, a life worlds apart from his own.

The boy blinked, momentarily mesmerized by the girl's appearance.

Her radiant presence felt almost unreal, like a vision sent to taunt him in his final moments.

She didn't belong in a place like this, amidst the grime and decay of the alleyway.

Her golden blonde hair cascaded like a radiant waterfall, shimmering even in the dim light of the night.

Her golden eyes sparkled with a warmth that seemed to defy the cold, dark world around them, as if they carried the very light of the stars within their gaze.

Despite the frigid air biting at his skin, the young child felt a strange warmth enveloping him—a warmth that came not from the air, but from her mere presence.

For a fleeting moment, the boy wondered how such a being could exist in his bleak world.

How could the night sky, so cold and uncaring, suddenly seem to glow with life?

"Where are your parents?"

Her voice was soft and soothing, each word a gentle embrace.

Yet, the young boy didn't answer.

His lips remained sealed, his gaze fixed on her as though afraid that looking away might break the spell.

The girl chuckled softly at his reaction, a melodic sound that carried a kindness he had almost forgotten existed.

She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to gently pat his matted hair.

The touch was light and careful, yet it felt as though it carried an unspoken promise—to shield him, to comfort him, to change his fate.

"I see," she murmured, her golden eyes softening as she looked at him. "So, you're the same as me…"

With every stroke of her hand, the boy felt something stir within him.

It was subtle at first, like a faint ember flickering in a long-dead fire.

But as her warmth spread through him, so did the ember begin to grow, melting away the numbness that had overtaken his body and soul.

His ragged breathing began to even out, and the crushing weight of despair started to lift, if only just a little.

Then, she knelt down, lowering herself to meet him at eye level.

Her gaze, unwavering and filled with a warmth he could scarcely comprehend, held his own.

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" she asked, her smile radiant and inviting. "Let's become family, shall we?"

The words hit him like a wave, crashing against the fragile barriers he had built around his heart. Family?

The very concept felt foreign to him—distant and unreachable, like the stars he so often gazed at.

As that concept was something he had long abandoned in this life and the previous one before that.

"My name is Dorothy, what's yours?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The weight of his silence didn't seem to bother her.

She tilted her head slightly, a playful smile gracing her lips.

"Hmm~ since we're about to become family, why don't you call me big sis from now on?"

Her words were teasing, but there was an earnestness behind them, a sincerity that left him unable to look away.

Standing up, Dorothy extended her hand toward him.

Her small, gloved hand looked so clean, so pure, so out of place in the grime of the alley.

Yet, it was steady, unwavering in its offer.

"Now, let's go, shall we?"

The boy stared at her outstretched hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out.

His small, trembling fingers brushed against hers before closing around her hand, the touch igniting a spark of warmth that spread through him like a wildfire.

As he allowed her to pull him to his feet, the boy felt something he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity—hope.

In that moment, as he clung to her hand, he knew his world had changed forever.

...

'What... what was that?'

I clutched my head, struggling to steady my thoughts as a wave of disorienting pain surged through me.

The pounding in my skull was relentless, like a hammer striking over and over.

Was that another dream?

The fragmented memory lingered, vivid yet fleeting, but there was no time to dwell on it.

As the world around me shifted, my instincts flared—a sharp glint caught my eye, aimed directly at my throat.

CLANNGGG!!!

The screech of metal rang out as I barely managed to deflect the incoming dagger.

Though slower than the hidden blade technique, the attack still demanded precision.

My body moved on its own, reacting before I could even think.

Using the broad side of my sword, I redirected the dagger's thrust upward, forcing its wielder to stumble back slightly.

"Wow~"

A voice, familiar yet alien, broke through the chaos.

The clown-like version of me whistled, a wide grin plastered across his face as he effortlessly backflipped away, dodging my follow-up strike with infuriating ease.

"Hm~ Hm~ sure is better than expected! Is it because you're still in the zone after that bout with Second? Or..." He tilted his head, his hypnotic, multicolored hair swaying with the motion. "Is it just because you've actually grown in that short amount of time now~?"

He spoke with an unsettling casualness, twirling his twin daggers as if this were some sort of game.

His movements were erratic, a chaotic dance that defied rhythm and logic.

Left to right.

Up and down.

He moved unpredictably, his daggers switching hands in a dizzying display.

And then... it happened.

The daggers multiplied.

At first, it was subtle—one dagger became two, then four, then eight.

The air around him shimmered as if reality itself bent to his whim.

Each blade glinted menacingly under the dim light, a whirlwind of steel surrounding him.

'No... they weren't illusions'

My senses screamed the truth—they were real.

[Projection magic.] Discover more content at empire

And here I thought only the twins could use that…

The clown-like me chuckled, his grin growing wider as he caught the shift in my expression.

"You seem to be in a daze~ Was the dream that painful or comforting?"

The clown-like version of me tilted his head, his tone laced with mockery and curiosity.

His painted smile stretched unnaturally wide, as if reveling in my confusion.

"Did… you do something to me?" I spat, anger lacing my voice.

The swirling storm of emotions within me finally reached its peak.

The pent-up frustration from my previous encounter with the other Riley rom before—who conveniently avoided giving me any real answers—came crashing down like a tidal wave.

All these riddles.

All these fragmented memories.

And yet, no clear explanation.

"I just showed you a little piece of myself~" he replied nonchalantly, spinning one of his daggers between his fingers. "Though I couldn't tell which part of me you saw~ Soul memories have to be random now, considering how much causality interference we're paying for all this. But—" His grin widened, his eyes glinting mischievously. "—I wouldn't mind disappearing if you'd prefer to re-live my life~"

"That… was your memory?"

"Wrong." He twirled the dagger faster, the sound of the blade slicing through the air sharp and precise. "That was my life~"

Before I could fully process his words, a barrage of daggers came hurtling toward me.

Shit—!

I instinctively raised my sword, blocking as many of the projectiles as I could.

The clang of steel on steel rang out, each impact reverberating through my arms.

But his assault was relentless—an unending rain of blades that pushed my body and mind to their limits.

I moved with all the precision I could muster, deflecting the daggers that aimed for my vital points.

Yet, no matter how fast I reacted, there were too many.

Damn it—!

A sharp sting erupted at my side.

Then another.

Some of the blades found their mark, piercing through my defenses.

Blood seeped from the wounds, warm and sticky, staining my clothes and dripping onto the ground.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to ignore the pain as I maintained my focus.

"Hmm~ You actually managed to block most of my Ripper Dagger Special~" he mused, his voice filled with a mocking sort of admiration.

He spun another dagger effortlessly in his hand, its edge gleaming with a faint, ominous aura.

"I coated some of them with my aura, you know," he continued, tapping the blade playfully against his temple. "Impressive that you're still standing~"

The smirk on his face was maddening, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

My grip tightened on my sword, the pain in my body dulled by sheer willpower.

"Good. Keep that fire in your eyes," he purred, tilting his head as he studied me. "It's so much more fun when you're fighting to survive~"

He leapt back, spinning in the air like a performer in a grotesque circus, his daggers hovering around him like satellites.

"You know what they say, don't you?" he teased, landing gracefully. "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger~"

I steadied my breathing, my mind sharpening despite the chaos around me.

If he thinks I'm going down that easily, he's dead wrong.

The battle was far from over.

[Hidden blade first form]

[Blue Moon]

-FLASH!