The Romance Fantasy Novel MC is Only Into Me

“You already know you can’t win, Ransell-nim.”
The lightning spread in plasma form, branching out in all directions.
The intensely condensed energy bundles began to gouge the ground like furious tentacles.

Kwak-kwak-bang!
The entire landscape trembled as if an earthquake had struck.
The magic Marigold unleashed turned the ground beneath Ransell’s feet into a total wasteland. Maintaining his balance was no easy task.

Ninth-rank magic. Lightning Tentacles.
“Take it easy, take it easy!”
Swaaaak!

The whip-like magic curved sharply, flying menacingly toward Ransell.
“This won’t do.”
Light radiated from the blade of Ransell’s sword. At the moment the magical tendrils tried to wrap around him, he forcefully swung the blade.
Kaaang!

The lightning was instantly cut.
The plasma dispersed into particles in midair, leaving behind dazzling sparks as if reluctant to dissolve quietly.
“Kruuk!”

Some strands of hair were singed. His whole body burned as if scorched by fire.
“To block that... you really are amazing, Ransell-nim.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“I mean it.”
While Ransell was exhausted, Marigold appeared calm, leisurely floating in the air with her staff raised.
“If only all knights were like you, Ransell-nim.”

Red-black sparks burst from Marigold’s eyes.
Eight plasma bundles extended once again from her center.
Kwak-kwak-kwak-kwak-bang!

Overwhelming power swept across the grassland, spreading dozens of meters in an instant.
Rocks, trees, earth, even nearby academy buildings—everything blocking her path was crushed like soft tofu by the chain of magical bursts.
The movements were unpredictable and ever-changing. When Ransell regained his senses, three or four magical whips simultaneously targeted him.

Even for Ransell, a single contact with those would leave no part of his body intact.
“This won’t do.”
Ransell was desperate to dodge.
The ground was already a mess with nowhere to step. Melted stones and gravel flowed like lava, creating a treacherous obstacle zone.

Whether he had a chance to win or not wasn’t the point. The question was whether he could avoid being touched even once.
‘Seriously, did they mess up the archmage’s stats?’
Even in the game, it hadn’t been this bad. Wasn’t this the ultimate form of a magician? Ransell was completely helpless throughout.

Getting close was nearly impossible. Twice was the most he had ever approached her.
He didn’t even get to swing his sword. A translucent shield protected her.
“I won’t drag this out. For your sake, Ransell-nim.”

Gwoooorrrr!
Then—
A chilling scream echoed from Marigold’s palm.

Compressed, compressed, compressed—unceasingly compressed magic and air emitted light, finally forming a black sphere.
“...!”
Ransell already knew what spell that was, so he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Why dummy data?”

Twelfth-rank magic, “Small Dark Sphere.”
His older sister, skilled in game development but clueless about astrophysics, upon seeing NASA’s black hole photo, had excitedly said,

—“This would be perfect magic to add.”
He had tried to stop her,
—“Will it even work?”

and it remained dummy data—an ultimate magic of the magical world that was never implemented.
‘It was unimplemented, wasn’t it?’
The very concept of twelfth rank was unimplemented.
Within the game, for power balance, magic was implemented only up to ninth rank.

Beyond that, it wasn’t a romance fantasy anymore but closer to Cthulhu horror. All discarded during testing.
‘Then why the hell is she using it?’
That dummy data twelfth-rank magic showing up was already abnormal.

By setting, the continent’s greatest court magister and tower lord were both eighth rank.
Only one person in history had reached the ninth-rank archmage level.
And now twelfth rank?

An impossible concept.
Something was wrong.
“Mary, you...”

But the sphere on Marigold’s palm was definitely the twelfth-rank magic Small Dark Sphere.
A fierce accretion disk appeared around the spinning dark sphere—a tiny black hole.
The air sucked in endlessly within emitted terrible screams.

Kiiiiiiiiing!
‘...So I really can’t win this?’
Yeah.

The Marigold in front of Ransell’s eyes was far beyond the archmage level.
“Enough. Ransell-nim.”
One who mastered even magic beyond the game and wielded it perfectly—a being transcending the very idea of a magician.

Literally a superhuman.
A human closer to a god than anyone else.
“I’ll finish this now.”

That was why Ransell couldn’t help but feel unnatural.
.
.
.
“Nightmare?”

“Yes, it causes nightmares.”
It was a long-ago memory.
“What kind of dream differs for each person, but it starts when Mary falls asleep and continues until she wakes. Professor Laura, do you know anything?”

At Ransell’s question, Professor Laura rested her chin, seemingly trying to recall.
Ransell silently waited for her answer.
He was worried about the “nightmare incident” that had made Marigold an outcast at the academy.

“Hmm. It’s definitely a mental magic, but a dream...”
Soon, Laura spoke.
“If it’s related to dreams, it might be a nightmare phenomenon.”

“Nightmare phenomenon?”
“Yes. Literally, magic that makes the target dream. No one knows how it manifests. Mental magic hasn’t been researched much. It’s mainly practiced by demons, monsters, and other races. So research is limited.”

Mental magic.

In the game, it was used to impose sleep, confusion, darkness states.
Meaning Marigold had used it unconsciously?
‘Well, she is a half-breed of other races. She even has grass growing on her head, after all.’

Thinking that made it somewhat believable.
“Some people perceive it as a good dream, others as a bad one. It varies. But most feel it’s a nightmare... probably because they can’t escape it by will.”
Laura removed her glasses and continued.

“It can be as brief as a moment or last for months. Most forget it cleanly upon waking. But everyone remembers being trapped in the dream.”
“Are there people who remember the dream content?”
“Very rarely, only those who had a good dream.”

“...Good that nightmares are forgotten.”
“Could look at it that way.”
Laura shrugged.

“What kind of dream depends on the person. Dreams may seem infinite in possibility, but actually aren’t.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. No matter how strange the dream, it’s ultimately imagination. Imagination is limited by the person’s creativity.”

Hearing that, it made sense.
“Interesting.”
“Want to know more?”

“I’ll pass.”
.
.
.
Ransell returned from his brief thoughts.

The twelfth-rank magic resting in Marigold’s hand.
The reason it was implemented despite not existing in the game wasn’t because she was a powerful magician.
Marigold being an archmage, transcendent, a Cthulhu-like being, or a godlike human—actually, the cause lay elsewhere.

Yeah, Ransell.
Because this was Ransell’s dream.
Mary was merely an intruder inside it.

The reason she could wield twelfth-rank magic was simple. It took the strongest form allowed within the limits of Ransell’s imagination.
Who else but Ransell would know such magic existed in this game?
The world of imagination where the 30-year loop repeated was like this, too. Because Ransell was a regressor, it could be realized.

He was sure this Marigold probably didn’t even understand the concept of “regression.”
The Marigold in the dream had grown entirely based on Ransell’s borrowed imagination.
She was merely a guest.

“Yeah. This was my dream.”
Why had he thought otherwise?
Until now, Ransell had thought he was entering Marigold’s dream.

But it was the opposite. This was his dream. The world he wanted.
Not Marigold’s.
Ransell’s own ideal.

An imagination of happiness. A peaceful world. A harmonious life. An imagination where Marigold became an archmage. An imagination where he wanted to marry Marigold...?
‘This isn’t right.’
Anyway, Marigold was only keeping him trapped in this dream.

The dream owner was Ransell.
—Nightmare phenomenon.
Ransell was in the same situation as the other academy students who shared the dorm with Marigold that day.

“Hmm.”
All the pieces fit together.