How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Beon stepped out of the cave entrance, boots crunching softly against the snow-covered ground.

He looked up at the sky.

It was already past noon.

The sun, though hidden behind thick layers of snowy clouds, still cast a dull, pale light over the peaks.

Seeing through it wasn’t difficult for someone like him. His eyes, trained and sharpened over decades, pierced through the haze easily.

Still, the light felt distant today.

He glanced over his shoulder at the cave’s dark opening, the entrance to the modified dungeon where Riley had just entered not long ago.

Barely a few minutes had passed… and yet his expression was already conflicted—lips pressed into a tight line, brows slightly furrowed.

Troubled.

“…Tch.”

“Well, aren’t you uneasy~” came a teasing voice from behind him. “Regretting your decision already?”

Beon scoffed before turning his head. The voice was all too familiar.

“You’re late, Bom.”

Bom walked up the slope with ease, the snow parting under her light steps like it knew better than to resist her. Her red hair fluttered gently behind her in the cold breeze, but her eyes were amused.

“Well, if someone actually did his duties this morning, I wouldn’t have been,” she replied with a casual shrug. “Sending a few letters to the clan elders isn’t that hard, you know. For a clan head, you’re surprisingly good at avoiding paperwork.”

Beon clicked his tongue and looked away. “…I had to prepare a few things for him beforehand.”

Which wasn’t a lie.

He had made some last-minute adjustments to the dungeon before Riley arrived. But Bom saw right through him, as always.

She stopped a few steps away from him, crossing her arms as she watched him like a tired older sister dealing with an overgrown child.

Internally, she sighed.

The most capable yet most unreliable clan head in history…

“You know,” she began, voice quieter now, “you could just retire early. If you’re going to keep ignoring your responsibilities, maybe it’s time.”

Beon remained silent for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Ahem… Although your father is worthy of the title, he still lacks the strength and power to truly keep it.”

Bom raised a brow at him.

“…You know that’s not true,” she said flatly.

She didn’t press the point though. She knew how he was—always deflecting, always making excuses to delay what was inevitable.

Hardheaded, as always.

She sighed again, this time aloud, watching the cold wind blow past them both.

“Well, not that it matters now…” Bom said with a small smirk, brushing past Beon as she stepped closer to the dungeon entrance. Her red eyes glinted faintly in the shadow of the cave. “Is Brother-in-law already inside?”

“Yes,” Beon replied with a nod, his arms crossed. “Though it’s only been a few minutes since he entered.”

“Then I’m not late after all,” she said, clearly amused. “With the way you restructured the dungeon and layered the traps, it’ll keep him busy for hours—minimum.”

Beon clicked his tongue. “You’re underestimating him. With that kid’s speed and physical capabilities, I doubt the dungeon layout matters much. Time inside is also dilated—he’s probably already halfway through it by now, for all we know.”

Bom leaned slightly forward, peering into the darkness, her sharp eyes gliding across the stone like a predator scanning its territory.

“Even if that’s the case, the upgraded undead you planted in there should at least keep him entertained. Especially the ones fused with fire affinity—that’s bound to slow him down a little, they’re technically immortal in a sense as well.” she said, placing a hand on her hip.

Then, after a brief pause, her smile turned a shade more mischievous.

“Though, seeing that worried little wrinkle on your face… huhu~ I take it not letting him use mana is starting to eat at you, hmm? I never thought my dear grandfather and clan head would actually worry about someone other than my sweet little sister~”

Beon grunted and looked away, arms tightening over his chest. “Tsk. I’m not worried.”

“Oh? Then what’s that little pout you’ve got going on?” she teased, poking at his side.

“I’m not pouting,” he muttered.

Bom’s grin widened.

“The kid’s got more potential than anyone in the world,” Beon said finally, standing straighter. “And he’s trained by none other than me. I’ve made sure he’s capable of handling worse than this.”

“Yes~ Yes~” Bom chimed, spinning slightly on her heel with exaggerated sarcasm. “Excuses~ Excuses~ I got it~ Big scary clan head isn’t worried at all~ How could he possibly be~”

Beon’s eyebrow twitched. “You…”

“Relax, relax~” Bom said, clearly enjoying herself. “I’ll go do what I was sent for. I’ll make sure the ‘brat’ doesn’t cheat.”

Beon let out a sharp sigh. “Yes. Good. Do your job.”

But Bom wasn’t finished.

“Though… brat, kid, idiot, stubborn blockhead—you really ought to pick one term and stick to it,” she said with a hand on her chin, mock thoughtfully. “Or better yet… just call him by his actual name. You know, Riley? It’s not that hard. Especially since he’s going to be your future grandson-in-law and all~”

Beon’s eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t married into the clan yet!”

“Yet, yes~ Which means it’s only a matter of time, right?” she winked.

“Just shut it and go already,” Beon grumbled, turning away.

“Roger~” Bom chirped, casually waving a hand as she walked forward. “But I expect to hear you calling him ‘dear grandson’ before the year’s out!”

“Get lost!”

Bom chuckled to herself as she stepped down into the mouth of the dungeon, the energy of the place almost crackling against her skin.

The entrance was brimming with faint traces of mana, warped slightly by her grandfather’s ridiculous modifications.

She’d teased him like always, poked fun at his obvious worry—but truthfully, she wasn’t that carefree either.

Not entirely.

She knew Beon had designed the dungeon to push Riley to the edge.

The traps were cruel, the layout intentionally disorienting, and the monsters… amplified beyond their natural state.

All for a “fair” test. Typical Beon logic.

Even if she trusted Riley’s strength, going through a place like this without using mana was a gamble.

She couldn’t fully assess how well he’d manage.

Especially against enemies that didn’t exactly stay dead.

Still… she doubted Riley was in any real danger.

If things ever got too risky, he could always open his mana gates and bulldoze through everything in sight.

That was the strange part—this weird in-between sensation of being concerned, but not quite.

Worrying without panic.

Bom raised her arms and stretched lazily, exhaling a slow breath.

Her presence began to fade.

No flares, no spells—just quiet control as her body seamlessly blended into the shadows.

A soft shimmer of distortion surrounded her for a heartbeat before she vanished from view entirely.

Her task was simple: monitor Riley from a distance.

Make sure he didn’t cheat. No interference, no rescue missions.

Master and student.

That’s all this is, she reminded herself.

I have no reason to get involved.

She took another step forward, slipping fully into the dungeon’s boundary.

The entrance pulsed as she crossed the threshold—and that’s when it hit her.

Bop.

It felt like she’d walked straight into a wall.

Bom recoiled with a soft grunt, her foot slipping slightly on the icy ground. She almost tipped backward—

Until a hand caught her waist, firm and steady.

Her camouflage flickered—thin streams of smoke and shadow pulling away as her stealth began to break down.

Her eyes widened as her body stilled.

She looked up—

And blinked.

“…Big Sis?”

A familiar voice, calm and slightly amused, cut through the moment.

She froze.

“Riley?” she said, her tone completely flat, as her illusion broke completely, revealing her stunned face.

Standing there, casually, just a few steps outside the dungeon’s mouth—was her brother-in-law.

Perfectly fine.

No wounds.

No scratches.

Just a faint trail of golden light still lingering around his coat as if the dungeon had spit him out on good terms.

“…What,” Bom breathed.

Her red eyes blinked slowly in disbelief.

Way off in the distance, Beon was staring in their direction—his expression a near-mirror of hers, mouth slightly agape as his arms slowly uncrossed in confusion.

The silence dragged for a beat too long.

“…Did you finish already?” Bom finally asked, voice quiet.

Riley scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I think the dungeon just… gave up.”

….

“Brat… you’re not lying, are you?” Beon asked, narrowing his eyes.

Riley laughed under his breath, relaxed as ever. “Haha, of course not.”

Beon scoffed and slowly began to circle around him, his sharp gaze studying the boy like a hawk dissecting prey.

No cuts.

No bruises.

Not even a speck of dust on his clothes. His breathing was normal. His aura completely steady.

It didn’t make sense.

No sign of fatigue, no sign of battle—nothing to suggest that Riley had even lifted a finger inside the dungeon.

It was like he had walked in… then casually strolled out like a guy coming back from a light jog.

Beon turned his head and glanced back at the now-faded dungeon entrance.

The faint shimmer that marked its boundary had completely vanished.

A natural closure.

The kind that only happened when a dungeon had been fully cleared.

He rubbed his temples.

“You didn’t cheat, did you?” he asked again, more serious this time.

“No,” Riley replied, still seated by the fire.

“Then how the hell do you explain this?”

“I already told you,” Riley said, throwing up his hands a little. “It just… gave up.”

Beon stared at him, unconvinced.

They were now seated inside the same cave where the dungeon had formed earlier.

A small fire crackled between them.

Bom knelt beside it, casually putting ingredients in a dep pot—probably a stew, she’d prepared after confirming Riley wasn’t half-dead or unconscious.

Beon couldn’t sit.

He paced.

Even if what Riley said was technically true, the idea of a dungeon just “giving up” was ridiculous. Beyond absurd.

This wasn’t some low-tier tutorial cave—this was a heavily modified layout filled with high-grade traps, S-rank undead, and terrain meant to disorient and exhaust even elite hunters.

And the monsters?

They were all undead.

That was a deliberate choice.

He used them for a reason.

Undead couldn’t feel fear.

They didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t retreat.

Unlike normal monsters, they didn’t sense overwhelming strength and run.

They didn’t care about who they were fighting.

They attacked whatever came near like emotionless machines, swarming without thought or mercy.

But according to Riley…

“They acted like scared little animals or rather unmoving objects?” Beon muttered under his breath.

He looked at the boy again.

Riley was sitting cross-legged by the fire, quietly sipping from a canteen Bom had passed him.

Completely calm. No tension in his shoulders. No guilt. No hesitation in his voice.

And that was what unsettled Beon most.

Not the claim.

But how easily it rolled off Riley’s tongue—like it wasn’t even worth thinking about.

Now, the entire purpose of the practical test felt like it had been thrown out the window.

Useless.

Meaningless.

‘Did he use divine energy?’

He looked at Riley and wondered if her secretly used divine energy instead of mana.

Looking at Riley directly it doesn’t seem to be the case as their would’ve been lingering effects he would notice directly.

Specially considering the boss he put inside if he did use Divine energy it would’ve leaked out of the dungeon.

‘There’s no signs of any forms of energy used on his body…. did I really just fuck up the dungeon somehow?’

Riley let out a troubled laugh as he glanced at his master, watching Beon’s expression shift between disbelief and frustration.

He could’ve made up some kind of excuse—something vague about the dungeon’s nature, or the monsters malfunctioning, or whatever—but it didn’t sit right with him.

Not when he knew how much work had gone into the dungeon.

The traps weren’t just for show.

The undead weren’t random.

The entire layout was carefully crafted, each corridor and chamber meant to push him into a situation where strength alone wouldn’t be enough.

And the final boss?

Riley sighed inwardly.

‘Considering the last monster was an Akasha… he probably wanted to force me into a real fight. One where I’d be pushed into a corner with no options left but technique.’

Akasha’s weren’t just high-rank undead—they were unliving sword arts.

Undead duelists designed to adapt to their opponent’s style.

If you couldn’t destroy one completely in a single strike, it would learn.

It would grow.

And if you weren’t allowed to use mana…

Then you were practically screwed.

Even for someone like Riley, that would’ve been a battle bordering on impossible.

Not unwinnable—but not something he could brute force.

Beon had likely wanted to watch how he responded to that kind of pressure.

How he’d evolve.

But instead…

Thanks to the passive effects of his soul’s divine nature—his blessings—everything crumbled before he even got the chance.

The monsters couldn’t resist him.

The dungeon broke itself.

This was how honest as he can be with his master for now, ‘It’s not like I can tell him about my blessings and system anyway…..’

“…Am I taking another test?” Riley asked with a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Beon remained quiet for a moment, then exhaled and answered, “No.”

That surprised him.

Considering how stubborn the old man usually was, Riley expected at least another ten-floor trial or some half-impossible training session in the middle of a volcano.

“Fufu~ If you’re wondering why he’s being so unusually lenient,” Bom’s voice came from beside him as she suddenly plopped down, sitting close enough that their shoulders almost touched, “It’s probably because he’s… how do I put this nicely? Out of pocket~”

“Bom!” Beon barked, glaring at her.

She giggled unapologetically, twirling a lock of her red hair between her fingers.

“You see, this old man technically isn’t allowed to use clan funds for personal experiments anymore,” she said, eyes flashing with mischief. “He’s got quite the history of blowing clan resources on random projects. Weapons, ancient seals, beast taming, and oh! That one time he tried to build a floating dojo, remember? So~ this dungeon? He had to buy it from the Grand Duke himself.”

She grinned, tilting her head at Riley.

“And now, our oh-so-mighty clan head is broke~”

Riley blinked, then glanced at Beon, who was now visibly trying not to explode.

“I see… sorry about that, Master,” he said, awkwardly scratching his cheek. “If you want, I can pay you back—”

“Don’t look at me like that, you brat,” Beon muttered, turning his back with a dramatic huff. “I don’t need your money. Keep it.”

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“…Regarding the test—let’s just take it as you finishing it. For now.”

Riley raised a brow, almost amused.

“‘For now,’ huh?”

Beon didn’t respond.

Bom leaned closer and whispered, “That means he’s already planning something worse later~ Better watch your back, though I doubt he’d have any money for that”

“Shut it, Bom!”

Bom chuckled softly at her grandfather’s frustrated grumbling, amused at how easily Riley managed to break through that hardened “clan head” persona Beon always clung to.

Around Riley, the man wasn’t the feared sword sage or aloof clan patriarch anymore—he was just the secretly doting grandfather she used to climb on like a jungle gym.

She smiled to herself. It was kind of nice, really.

“Anyway~ congratulations, Riley,” Bom said with a little clap of her hands. “You’ve officially passed the clan head’s personal practical test. Fufu~ Not many swordsmen under his jurisdiction ever manage that, you know?”

“Well, technically, I just—”

Before Riley could finish, Bom leaned in and placed a gentle finger against his lips.

Her fox-like eyes gleamed with warmth and teasing mischief.

“The reason behind it doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice almost singsong. “What’s important, my dear little brother-in-law, is that you passed~”

Riley blinked, a bit taken aback by her closeness, but just nodded. “Right…”

Bom pulled back with a content hum and picked up the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the pot simmering over their campfire.

“Now then~ say ah~”

She scooped up a small amount of steaming stew and brought it right up to his mouth.

“I actually made this with Seo’s palate in mind,” she added with a grin. “The food in this country can be a little… intense flavor-wise, so I wanted to see if I could make something she’d like~ It’s packed with herbs for stamina and healing, too. You might not look injured, but running around a whole dungeon without mana must’ve worn you out, right? Let me help you recharge~”

She leaned in.

Way too close.

The spoon lingered in front of his lips.

Riley stared at it.

Then at her.

Then sighed.

“…Fine.”

He leaned forward and took a bite.

Bom’s smile widened in satisfaction.

“Fufu~ You really are such a good boy~” she whispered, half-laughing as she slowly brought the spoon to her own lips and tasted it herself. Her crimson eyes never left him. “Was the flavor good?”

“…Yes.”

Riley answered flatly, but his ears were slightly red.

Across from them, Beon sat silently, arms crossed, his brow twitching with every second that passed.

He watched as Bom continued to feed Riley like he was a pampered prince, smiling all the while, clearly enjoying herself far too much.

She’s definitely enjoying this too much, Beon thought.

A long sigh escaped him.

In that moment, watching Bom lean just a little too close and Riley awkwardly accept another spoonful, Beon realized something with painful clarity.

Letting Bom get close to that brat… might’ve been a mistake.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!