How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

"So, is something bothering you?"

She was always like this—direct, yet laced with mockery, her words cutting as if they carried an unspoken dagger.

"Kuku, you're not here to beg me, are you? No, the planet would have to turn upside down before that ever happens."

The same unwavering smile adorned her lips, the one that spoke volumes of her disdain and amusement at the world around her.

To her, everyone—me included—was nothing more than a fleeting entertainment, mere pieces on her chessboard to manipulate or discard.

"Why so quiet? Don't tell me you're feeling regretful, are you?"

Her words were a venomous tease, her tone biting and cold.

Even though she was my mother by flesh and blood, any semblance of a maternal bond between us had been severed long ago, if it ever existed at all.

"Hahaha, if that's the case, you shouldn't have come. Did General Fudeus tell you how much time I've got left? If so, you shouldn't have garnered such baseless worries. After all, my disappearance is something you've always wanted, right?"

Each word was deliberate, designed to provoke, to cut deeper than any blade ever could.

This woman—lying here, half-dead and crippled, with her frail body hidden behind a facade of indomitable will—was the source of my nightmares.

She was my greatest mistake, my greatest sin, the reason every meaningful connection I dared to form had crumbled to dust.

"Mother…"

Her name, or rather her title, escaped my lips like a curse.

Codex-12. One of the 13 Codices. A general of the Empire of Gaia.

But to me, she was Helena—a name that felt foreign and heavy on my tongue, burdened with the weight of our shared history.

She was a woman revered as one of the empire's most fearsome generals, and yet here she lay, barely clinging to life, her body a shadow of its former self.

"Are you itching for another mission, Han?"

Even now, in her broken state, her tone was authoritative, dismissive.

To her, I was nothing more than a tool—a soldier to command, a pawn to sacrifice.

No matter what I did, no matter how far I'd come, that's all I would ever be in her eyes.

....

My clues for clearing this trial hadn't appeared, not even once, despite enduring the relentless cycle of restarts for the past seven days.

I had tried everything I could think of, explored every corner of this world I could access, and exhausted every possibility.

I had called things out, done things that might correlate to the trial's objectives, and yet nothing seemed to work.

Not a single lead had presented itself.

Nothing… except this.

The one thing I hadn't dared to face. The one thing I had consciously avoided.

The person sitting right in front of me.

"You're dying,"

"Well, ain't that obvious…"

Her response came with a sharp smirk, as though my words amused her.

Yes, I knew. Of course, I knew she was dying…

I had known long before stepping into this room.

In the past, I was the first person to learn of her death.

And truthfully? I was also the first to celebrate it.

I hated her. I despised everything she stood for.

And yet… seeing her like this—fragile, broken, a mere shadow of the formidable figure she once was—was a first for me.

Even if this world was just a recreation of the past, as the game's description had implied, it felt too vivid, too tangible.

If this was meant to be an accurate representation of that time, then everything about her now—the way she moved, spoke, even breathed—was eerily precise.

I knew, logically, that this wasn't real.

She wasn't real.

She was nothing more than a fabricated recreation of the woman I once knew.

And yet, everything about this world—from the way people behaved to the way events unfolded—was indistinguishable from reality.

It was no wonder my psyche wrestled with it, sometimes succumbing to the illusion that this world was real.

I hated it.

Hated the thought that a part of me could still be swayed by the familiarity of her presence, no matter how artificial it was.

Although she remained still, mocking me with that insidious smile, my hands wouldn't stop trembling.

My mind screamed at me to wrap them around her throat, to choke the life out of her in the same way she had mercilessly taken the lives of my comrades, my company, my friends.

But the only thing stopping me—the thin, fragile barrier between thought and action—was the condition of this trial itself.

The fact that I couldn't harm others or myself was, ironically, a blessing. For her. For me.

Because even if I wanted to, even if I gave in to every dark impulse and tried, there was no way I could harm this woman. Not even in her crippled state.

She was just that powerful.

Even if I had the system and my stats from the other world, I doubted I could put up a decent fight against her.

Her powers, her abilities—they weren't just efficient at killing people.

They were designed for it.

Crafted through bloodshed and carnage.

Her hand moved then, slow and deliberate.

I didn't flinch as her fingers touched my face, but my stomach churned at the unwanted intimacy of the gesture.

"You've gotten bigger…" she murmured, her voice dripping with a mockery of maternal affection.

"..."

"How long has it been since you so rudely left your position?"

"..."

"Three years, give or take? That makes you seventeen… no, eighteen years old now, doesn't it?"

I didn't respond, my silence thick and heavy.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening as though she found my stoicism amusing. "You've grown into a fine adult, yet you're still so utterly useless to the empire. Maybe you should've gone to Titan, made yourself useful there instead of wasting away. You know Gaia has no use for the useless, right?"

My jaw tightened, and for the first time, I spoke.

"Then it has no use for you either."

I smacked her hand away, the one that had been cupping my face as though I were some pliable, fragile thing.

Her expression flickered, just for a moment. A flash of disappointment crossed her features, but the smile returned almost instantly, unshaken, unyielding.

"Hm~ how sharp of you. I may be crippled, but the empire… Gaia still has its uses for me. The fact that I'm still alive, still here and not disposed of like the weak… well, that's proof enough, isn't it?"

"Are you sure they aren't just waiting for your mind to crumble before dissecting you to pieces?" I asked coldly, unable to keep the venom out of my voice.

She chuckled, a low and mocking sound that sent chills down my spine. "Kuku, that remains a possibility. But even if it were true, wouldn't that be the greatest honor?"

"As expected of a psycho…" I muttered under my breath, unable to hide my disdain.

Her smile widened, her amusement palpable. "Kuku? What's this? You sure have gotten bold over the past few years. And here I thought you'd still be the meek little Han I used to know—especially after hiding, escaping, and abandoning your own position. Did the news of my impending death give you confidence?"

"Who knows…"

Honestly, I didn't know myself. Why was I so heated? Why was I brimming with confidence, standing up to her like this? She wasn't wrong—I'd never been the type to challenge her before. So why now?

A foreign emotion churned within me, unfamiliar and unsettling. It was as if some buried part of me, long dormant, had finally clawed its way to the surface.

"Kuku… If only you were this bold back then," she said, her voice laced with mock regret. "Maybe I would've given you much more attention."

"I never needed it."

Her laughter stopped abruptly, and for the first time, her smile faltered. "You still lie to yourself…"

"And you're still selfishly believing what you want to believe."

The room fell silent, the tension between us so thick it was suffocating.

Her blue eyes, empty of any reflection, locked onto me as though she could see into my soul despite her blindness.

"..."

"..."

She sighed, clearly disappointed at not getting the reaction she wanted. Turning her attention back to the large monitor, she grabbed a controller and extended it toward me.

"I don't know the reason for your visit, nor do I care at this point," she said, her tone dismissive. "But let's play some games before we go, shall we?"
Find adventures at empire

I didn't know where she was going with this—or why—but I took the controller without saying anything.

"You can mock me all you want, say whatever you've been holding in, or just sit there and observe me. Rejoice in my impending death if that's what you're here for. I don't really care," she continued, her voice unchanging. "But do me one thing. Think of it as a request or an order—it doesn't matter. Just don't hold back."

"Sure," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

She smirked and clicked on the first game displayed on the screen—a simple racing game.

It didn't bother me at first. I readied myself for the distraction. But as my eyes scanned the game selection screen, they landed on the final game listed.

My breath hitched.

The title shone brightly on the screen, its logo unchanged from what I remembered:

[Hero's Legacy]

The same game that had changed the course of my life. The characters I'd grown to know and love stared back at me from the poster displayed on the menu.

This shouldn't exist here. Not now. Not in this time period.

My hands trembled slightly around the controller as my mind struggled to process what I was seeing.

"Hey, focus, kid. You don't want to lose to me, do you?" Her mocking voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

The race had already begun, the countdown on the screen fading to green.

With a sharp inhale, I clenched the controller and forced myself to focus. Whatever this meant, I'd figure it out later. For now, the game was on.

[Note: Progress...20%]