How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

After Rose finished deciphering the final layer of the magical crack, it didn't take long for the dormant celestial magic inside to respond.

A pulse of energy surged through the air — quiet, ancient, alive.

And then… my earrings, the [Tears of Chronos], reacted almost instantly.

A gentle pull, like gravity folding inward — and before either of us could even speak, the world around us shifted.

The warmth of the real world vanished. The light warped.

And in the blink of an eye…

We were inside.

Inside Lavine's realm.

The feeling was… familiar. Too familiar.

Despite how long it had been since I first stepped foot here, the nostalgic weight of this place settled on my chest like it had never left.

It was still as serene and as breathtakingly surreal as before — and yet it felt deeper now, like the echoes of time had thickened in her absence.

The air shimmered with azure light, soft and eternal, like the lingering echoes of stars in a night sky long forgotten.

Long, winding trails of glowing constellations stretched across the void around us, moving ever so slightly — as though the realm itself were breathing.

All around, intricate magical circles floated like lanterns, spinning and pulsing with ancient rhythms. Some drifted like petals in the wind, others stayed suspended mid-air like watchful eyes.

"Riley… this place…"

"Yes…" I said, watching her golden eyes dart from one floating rune to another, "We're inside the Grand Magus's realm."

Even though Rose couldn't see color, I could tell the sheer intricacy and weight of this place was affecting her.

A world forged by a being who understood time and space as easily as we understood air and breath.

When I first came here, Lavine warned me not to stare too deeply into her ancient runes. Back then, I hadn't fully understood why — I thought it was a matter of caution. Protection.

Now, with my [True Sight] fully awakened… I understood.

Each rune floating in this space was more than just a magical glyph — it was a law, a principle, a piece of reality itself carved out and woven into her realm.

Each one bled power, so refined and pure that it twisted the air around it, like staring at a star that shouldn't exist.

A single one of them — if released — could likely rewrite the fundamental rules of an entire nation.

This wasn't just a mage's domain.

It was a library, a prison, and a temple all in one.

A vault of forbidden truths built by someone who had walked the very edge of godhood and returned.

Even Rose, who always acted with unshakable confidence — the girl who often bent magic to her will without a second thought — stood frozen.

She reached out a hand toward one of the runes… then stopped midway.

Her fingers trembled slightly before lowering again.

"Even you're hesitating?"

She gave a small nod, her lips pursed.

"…They're alive," she said. "Those runes… they're watching us."

She wasn't wrong.

I could feel it too.

This realm wasn't just a reflection of Lavine's power — it was her.

Soon, our feet touched down on what seemed to be the only solid ground in the entire realm.

A glowing platform of light — smooth, translucent, and gently pulsating beneath us like a living heartbeat.

The rest of the realm was still suspended in its star-lit vastness, with celestial runes and constellations lazily drifting across the void. This was the eye of the storm. The core of Lavine's world.

I took a moment to scan the surroundings.

No sign of her.

It felt… unusual.

The last time I came here, Lavine had appeared almost instantly — regal and untouchable, like the manifestation of the realm itself. Then again, that was during her trial, when she was expecting me.

This time… we didn't enter by invitation.

We breached the boundaries of her sanctum.

Even so, I thought that alone would've been enough for her to notice.

"Rose, stay here for a while. I'll try to—"

"Hmm~ this child is interesting."

A chill ran down my spine.

I turned around instantly, heart skipping a beat — and sure enough, she was there.

Floating effortlessly behind me, her presence as overwhelming as ever.

Lavine Chronos — the Grand Magus.

Her soft, mature voice echoed like a whisper through crystal, serene yet absolute.

She hovered in midair, circling Rose with slow, deliberate grace.

Her movements were unhurried, her expression unreadable — but her deep amethyst eyes shimmered with curiosity, focused solely on the girl behind me.

Her long, sky-blue hair floated as if suspended underwater, glowing faintly as strands of celestial mana curled around her.

"Not only did she manage to break through and calculate the precise coordinates of my realm…" Lavine murmured, her gaze narrowing slightly, "She's also well-attuned to celestial magic. Intriguing… very intriguing."

I took a step forward, ready to react — but then I noticed something odd.

Rose wasn't moving.

"Lavine… what did you do to her?"

She glanced at me, her smile faint but not unkind.

"Relax, child. I merely paused her sense of time. She's fine."

Her eyes lingered on me now, sharper than before — as if weighing every word, I might say before I said it.

"Now… tell me. Why have you come here, uninvited? You're not here to undertake another trial, are you?"

"…No," I said, trying to find the right words. "Well… not exactly."

Her brow lifted, and her expression softened into mild amusement. "Not exactly?"

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of what I was about to ask.

"I need your help. Or rather…" I looked up at her, meeting those ancient eyes without flinching, "Maybe the world does."

She blinked once, and for a moment her expression turned blank — as though I had just spoken utter nonsense.

Then, like a ripple on water, a flicker of curiosity returned to her face.

"The world, you say?"

.....

Giving her the full context of why I had returned didn't take long.

Lavine was quick-witted. She pieced things together faster than most people could finish forming their questions.

"So, you're telling me…" she began, setting her cup of tea down with a soft clink, "your fiancée is the Chaos Dragon that will devour the world in nine months' time?"

"Well… not exactly nine months, but somewhere along those lines."

Lavine leaned back, her long fingers tapping the rim of her porcelain cup as her deep amethyst eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Hmm."

A long, silent sip followed.

"Is that too unbelievable?" I asked, feeling the weight of her gaze settle on me again.

She tilted her head slightly, lips curling with faint amusement.

"Normally? Yes. Absolutely."

Her tone was calm, almost bemused, but it held no mockery. "But considering the anomaly within your soul, and that curse threading through your essence… I doubt you're lying."

I blinked.

So, she really could see it — did she also see it the last time I came here?

"Eris's mark… your body has an abundant amount of her energy…" Lavine's voice lowered, almost to a whisper, as she peered into me without physically moving an inch. "Your very existence has become an intersection of calamity and divinity. How fitting."

So, she could see a person's essence — not just mana signatures or surface-level traits, but the deeper imprints etched into the soul.

No doubt, her True Sight was on a completely different level — even beyond mine or Alice's.

I glanced at Rose beside me.

Still motionless, her expression soft and unchanging.

She looked peaceful, caught in the grip of celestial stasis, like a statue carved in reverence.

Lavine followed my gaze, then smiled gently before lifting her tea again.

She was in no rush.

None of this surprised her.

In fact, the moment I told her the truth, she'd casually snapped her fingers — and the void-like realm had shifted around us.

Now we sat in what resembled a room, though it lacked any walls or ceiling.

The floor beneath us glowed faintly, like polished glass reflecting the stars.

Ornate chairs, a small plush sofa, and a rectangular table appeared from nothing — warm, cozy, and surreal, like we'd stepped into a dream wrapped in serenity.

It was a quiet space. A place for conversation, not conflict.

And yet, even here, I could feel the sheer density of magic humming in the air like silent thunder.

"You've certainly brought me an interesting information, Riley. I've seen world-ending threats. I've even been one, once. But to think the chaos dragon — one of the primordial calamities — would bind herself to you of all people..."

"I didn't plan for any of it."

"No one ever does, child. That's the charm and tragedy of fate."

She took another sip from her porcelain cup, the gentle clink as she set it down the only sound between us.

For a moment, she simply stared at me — silent, thoughtful, as though weighing something far heavier than the words I had spoken aloud.

Then she finally spoke.

"While what you've said is quite the serious matter… I'm sorry, Riley." Her tone was soft, almost regretful. "But I can't help you."

My brows furrowed slightly, but I didn't interrupt.

Lavine's gaze drifted to the side, to the endless void beyond the realm's edge, her voice taking on a distant note.

"Right now, I'm occupied… maintaining the world's Providence — keeping it in balance. That in itself is another world-ending threat, if you could call it that."

"…I see."

I nodded slowly, trying not to let my disappointment show.

But truthfully? I'd expected that kind of answer from the start.

Lavine was never a character meant to be part of any grand scheme.

Even in the game, most players couldn't interact with her meaningfully — she was more of a background presence, a myth whispered about in ancient libraries and obscure quests.

A pillar of the world.

A constant, not a companion.

And yet, one detail had always stood out in her limited in-game description:

She was the anchor that bound the flow of time and space to the world's core.

The keeper of Providence — the universal law that kept reality from spiraling into chaos.

But that was only when the world's Providence was fractured… when the balance was still broken.