How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 553: Hero….!!!

A place filled with filth.

That was the first thought that cut through Lucas’s mind as his boots scraped against the stone floor of the unknown altar.

The air was rotten yet disturbingly fresh, like the clash of two contradictions forced to exist in the same breath.

The ground pulsed faintly under his feet, veins of black ichor crawling across the stone, whispering.

Every sensation here made his instincts rebel.

The grotesque nature of it was undeniable—yet there was something almost newborn about it, as if the altar itself had only just been born from the carcass of something older, fouler.

His gaze rose.

And there, in the center, stood the masked man.

The figure’s presence alone froze Lucas mid-step.

There was no gesture, no killing intent, not even hostility, yet the silent weight pressing out from that man’s very existence was enough to pin him in place like prey under the eye of a predator.

[…Master… Escape… You cannot win…]

The warning from the holy sword seeped sluggishly into Lucas’s mind.

Words dragged as if time itself was distorting around them, stretched taut, threatening to snap.

It had been mere seconds since he had landed, but it felt like an eternity as their eyes—his golden light against the man’s blank black mask—locked across the altar.

Lucas’s pulse hammered in his ears. He knew it instinctively—no matter how far he had ascended, no matter the divine energy burning in his veins—the being in front of him was not “normal.”

Something about that man unraveled the natural order around him.

But that didn’t mean Lucas could back down.

He forced his feet forward, scanning the altar as he moved.

Two pillars rose like the twisted arms of giants, carved into the grotesque images of demons—statues far too lifelike, as though sculpted from flesh instead of stone.

The sheer size of them clawed at his vision, oppressive.

And the moment his eyes narrowed on them, a jolt ran through his chest.

Recognition.

It was those statues.

The same ones the demonic nun had shown him through her cruel projection. Emilia. Reina.

Lucas’s grip on his sword tightened until the metal groaned.

“Where are they?”

His voice cut across the altar, low and sharp.

He had come the instant he felt Emilia’s trace in this place.

But now—now their presence was gone.

The air still clung with faint echoes of them, like afterimages of a flame just extinguished—yet at the same time, it was empty. Hollow.

The contradiction made his mind stutter for a heartbeat, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, that they had been here, and yet—

—and yet not.

The man with the black mask didn’t spare Lucas a single glance, didn’t utter a single word, as though he wasn’t even there.

Lucas tightened his grip on the holy sword. If the bastard was ignoring him, that meant an opening.

One clean slash—just one—might be enough to end it here and now.

The holy sword pulsed faintly, whispering its silent approval of bloodshed.

But Lucas couldn’t move. Not yet.

Not until he confirmed where Reina and Emilia were.

The masked man was his only lead, and killing him too soon could mean losing them forever.

Still, the truth was clear as day.

This man wasn’t some lowly worshipper groveling in filth—he was the one leading them.

The ritual, the dungeon’s corruption, the stench of twisted prayers—it all centered on him.

An apostle-class figure.

Lucas could cut through demonic energy.

He’d done it before.

He remembered the nun, her shrill laughter cut short as his blade carved her down, the black smoke of her soul torn apart by holy light.

But this man… no.

The sword’s trembling warning echoed in his head.

Escape.

That meant this one had his own set of tricks. Something even the divine steel feared.

[Ultimate Skill: Divine Will]

Kwaaahhhh—!!!!

The air itself crushed him.

A weight so suffocating Lucas’s legs buckled without his consent.

His body folded onto one knee as though the ground had claimed him.

Every muscle screamed, his veins burned.

It felt like the dungeon itself had turned on him, gravity clawing him down into the stone.

He rammed the holy sword into the floor, leaning on it just to keep upright.

His knuckles whitened, arms trembling against the invisible force pressing him into submission.

All he could manage was to tilt his head upward, eyes narrowing through the haze.

The masked man finally spoke, his voice calm, muffled, yet heavy enough to cut through the crushing silence.

“Hero… you are a greater fool than I realized.”’

Lucas resisted the pressure but try as he might he couldn’t like a restrictive lock placed upon the world itself he felt almost completely powerless in front of the man.

Dark chains slithered up from the ground, hissing like serpents as they coiled around Lucas’s limbs.

Cold iron born from shadow bit into his flesh, forcing his arms back and nailing him to the altar’s filth.

The chamber shuddered as the altar dimmed, its darkness bleeding into a faint, poisonous glow.

Red energy seeped through the cracks in the stone, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Tick… tock…

The sound echoed from nowhere, from everywhere.

Slow, deliberate footsteps approached.

The masked man closed the distance with the grace of a priest at prayer, each step carrying the weight of finality.

His hands opened, revealing a single glowing white feather resting in his palm. Its light was pure, divine—yet wrong in his grasp.

With a soft exhale, he crushed it, letting it dissolve into star-dust that scattered in the stale air.

Then his hand shot forward.

Fingers buried into Lucas’s black hair, jerking his head upward, forcing their eyes to meet.

“It seems the goddess made a mistake…” His voice was low, steady, venom wrapped in calm. “You are far too weak.”

“—?!”

VOOOOSHHHH!

A heavier pressure than before burst forth.

The ground beneath them cracked and groaned, stone slabs splintering under the unseen weight.

Lucas’s teeth ground together as the force pressed him deeper into the chains.

“Did you truly hope, to save your friends… with this level of power?”

“Get your hands… OFF ME!”

Lucas roared.

From deep within his core, a torrent of white light erupted—holy energy bursting outward like a storm breaking free.

SSSHHHHOOOOOOSSSHHHH!

The masked man’s grip faltered for the first time, his hand releasing as Lucas staggered backward.

Chains shattered around him, their fragments sizzling to ash.

He landed on one knee, then pushed himself up, divinity igniting around him.

Feathery white plumes radiated from his aura, shedding light across the tainted altar.

His strength returned in an overwhelming rush—the goddess’s blessing pulsing through his veins.

He raised his holy sword, its silver edge blazing as sparks of light danced across its body.

Run.

Escape.

The thought dug into his chest like claws.

Every fiber of his soul screamed at him to turn away.

But he couldn’t. Not until he kept his promise. Not until he found them.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, planting his stance firm against the stone. “I don’t know who you are… but if beating the answer out of you is the only way—don’t blame me for it, demonic worshipper.”

The sword hummed with divine fury as he leveled it at the masked man, radiance spilling across the dungeon.

“I’ll ask you one more time…” His voice trembled, not with fear, but with conviction that burned hotter than his doubt. “Where are they!?”

The masked man gave no answer. Instead, his shadow rippled unnaturally, stretching, twisting—until a weapon emerged.

A sword of pure night, forged from the void itself, its blade gleaming with a swirling radiance of black winds and suffocating darkness.

[Master—! Please, flee!!]

The holy sword’s panicked voice stabbed into Lucas’s mind.

Lucas’s breath caught. His eyes locked onto the weapon.

At first glance, it looked like a broadsword—heavy, brutal—but no.

The more he stared, the more wrong it became.

Its shape refused to stay fixed, edges warping, lines bending, as if reality itself couldn’t decide what it was.

It felt like staring at the complete opposite of his own holy blade.

Why… why did it feel like it was born to unmake him?

The masked man shifted, calm and deliberate.

His left hand folded neatly behind his back, his dark sword angled forward—not like a greatsword, not like a cleaver.

No, the stance was poised, refined, elegant… almost like a duelist preparing a fencing strike.

And then—

Boom.

Another crushing wave of pressure dropped like a guillotine.

Lucas staggered, bracing for it, but this time his feathers of light flared against the weight, holding it back.

His divine aura refused to bow.

He grit his teeth, adjusting his stance, holy sword raised—

SWIISSHHHHH!!!

The masked man moved.

A blur.

A single slash, precise and perfect, cutting forward as though he had blinked across space.

“—!!”

Lucas barely got his blade up in time.

CLAAAAAANGGGGGG!!!!

The impact shook the altar itself. Stone split, spiderweb cracks racing outward.

A small crater collapsed beneath their feet as divine steel clashed with void-forged darkness.

White and black sparks exploded around them, burning the air itself.

Lucas’s arms screamed.

His hands trembled even with both gripping the hilt. If he had been even a heartbeat late, that strike would’ve cleaved him in two.

SWOOOOSHHHH!!

No time to think.

Another strike—this one a thrust, impossibly fast.

The blade ripped through the air, piercing everything in its path with surgical precision.

Lucas jerked aside, instincts screaming.

The thrust tore past his shoulder, cutting stone and shadow alike.

But the masked man didn’t relent.

With a casual flick, he twisted the thrust into a sideways swipe, trying to cut Lucas as he dodged.

“—Tch!!”

Lucas stepped back sharply, then forced his blade into the clash, meeting the strike head-on instead of giving ground.

Sparks ignited between them, their weapons screeching.

With every ounce of skill he had, Lucas twisted, sliding his blade along the masked man’s dark edge, redirecting it and angling for the man’s head.

A desperate slash at the mask—

VIIISHHH!

VOOOOSHHHH!!

The counter came instantly.

One strike.

Two.

Both too fast to read.

The void blade flickered, and Lucas’s holy sword was batted aside like nothing.

The force slammed into him.

Lucas’s body was launched back, his boots grinding across stone until he crashed against the far side of the altar.

Dust exploded into the air, his chest heaving as he steadied his stance again.

All of it—all of those movements—happened before even a single second could fully pass.

He’s strong…

Lucas already knew it before the fight even began. Strength bled off the masked man like a suffocating fog.

Still, Lucas had always believed brute force wasn’t the only deciding factor in battle.

Skill, resolve, timing—those mattered too.

He thought that if he played it right, he could close the gap.

But the monster standing before him hadn’t even revealed his true power yet.

And deep down, Lucas knew… neither had he.

“Impressive, Hero…”

The masked man’s voice slithered through the altar as he advanced, each step measured, almost leisurely. His presence carried the calm arrogance of a predator certain its prey had nowhere left to run.

“Now I see why my servant struggled to capture you.”

Lucas’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know whether to take that as praise—or as mockery.

“But…” The masked man’s tone sharpened like a blade. “…it is still not enough.”

BURST!!!

Blood exploded into the air.

“—!?”

PHISSSSHHHH!

Thin fountains of crimson mist sprayed from Lucas’s body, as deep cuts carved across his flesh. Some shallow, others burrowing cruelly deep.

When—?!

His mind reeled. He had blocked everything. He was certain of it. His blade had met every strike. So why was his body torn open as if the void itself had reached inside him?

The masked man tilted his head, his mask glinting faintly in the gloom. “Desperation needs motivation. And you… you are still lacking. The Great Mother will not allow me to kill you at this rate.”

He raised one hand, fingers splaying open like a priest preparing a benediction.

“Show me more, oh great Hero.”

Translucent screens shimmered into existence around him, pale light painting the altar walls. Lucas’s breath caught

Inside the glowing panes—

Emilia. Reina.

Their flushed faces filled the frame, sweat-damp hair clinging to their skin.

Their eyes were hazy, unfocused, lips parted with sounds Lucas couldn’t hear but could imagine all too clearly.

The steam that clouded the background left no room for doubt about what was happening.

They were side by side, their bodies bare, vulnerable, and broken down into something he could barely recognize.

The masked man’s voice was venom-laced silk. “I’ve had far more fun with them… than I’ve had with you, Hero—”

He never finished.

FWOOOOOOMMMM!!!

A blinding column of light ripped across the altar, cutting the words from his tongue.

[SUNSTRIKE]

The beam devoured everything in its path, searing stone, shadow, and air itself.

The dungeon trembled, melted beneath the force of divine judgment.

Lucas’s golden eyes burned with fury, his pupils glowing like miniature suns.

A radiant white halo hovered over his head, gleaming brighter with every heartbeat.

Behind him, four wings of pure light unfurled, feathers of radiance shedding like falling stars.

…..

[Warning!]

[Warning!]

[Warning!]

[User is under the effects of [Ultimate Skill: Justice]]

[User will now have all his rights to win stripped.]

[Universal input has been placed… Until Justice is delivered for appropriate deeds, FATE cannot be escaped!]

[Note: Under the effects of [Ultimate Skill: Charity], 10,000+ Divinity has been added to user’s soul essence…]

[Divine ascension imminent with every second… Blessing sequence alignment to be decided!]

[Blessing of Change]

[Blessing of Death]

[Blessing of the Fraud]

[Which divine title will the user pursue for divine ascendance?]

[Note: It is advised to proceed to transcendence without any interruption…]

[Note: User soul essence resonance activating!]

[Warning! Failure to pick divine title for ascension will lead to personal soul damage!]

[Failure to pick will be offset by random selection!]

[Limit: 5 minutes.]