How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

“Here are the results for the final written exams,” the professor’s voice rang out across the courtyard, clear and sharp, amplified by a light wind-enhanced spell.

She stood atop a small podium, clutching a clipboard like it was a holy artifact.

“If you have any problems or complaints, please contact your assigned professors.”

The murmuring crowd of students quieted a little.

“Sophomores and seniors of the specialized courses, please follow me for your personalized assessment. Each of your instructors will conduct a one-on-one final evaluation with you.”

A wave of hushed groans rippled through the upperclassmen.

“I thought the grand festival was supposed to serve as evaluations for our grades!”

“Did the curriculum change again?”

“What about the other pervious assessments? clearing dungeons weren’t easy you know!”

“This is a scam!”

But despite their clear complaints the professor simply turned a blind eye and turning deaf ignoring each of their valid complaints…

“Freshmen,” the professor added with a flick of her wrist, “you don’t need to accompany us. Instead, please proceed to the gymnasium to prepare for the semestral break announcement. That is all—thank you.”

As her words settled into the air like falling leaves, movement broke out immediately. Groups of students began to split off in different directions—some hurried, some dragging their feet, others too frozen to even breathe properly.

Among them stood Emilia.

Her blue eyes flicked to the giant board that had just been unveiled by the steps—lists of names, class numbers, and final written exam scores neatly printed in shimmering ink.

And then, all at once, her expression twisted.

First wide-eyed with disbelief.

Then… sinking into something like dread.

Only to shoot back up into joy.

And then—tears?

It was like watching a storm happen entirely within her face.

“O-Oh… V-Vanny… I made it!” she finally gasped, her voice trembling with a wild mix of relief and giddiness. “See—see?! I made it!”

Vanessa, standing just beside her, blinked slowly from beneath her dark, hooded cloak.

As usual, most of her face remained shadowed, unreadable—except for the soft, unmistakable smile that curled at the edges of her lips.

“Mhm,” she replied, quiet but full of warmth. “I can see that.”

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she reached out and gently patted Emilia’s head.

The younger girl giggled—actually giggled—like a kid who’d just been praised for getting a star sticker.

Her usual poise had all but vanished in the flurry of emotions, and now she stood there, glowing with pride and exhaustion.

Her face was pale, yes, and the dark circles beneath her eyes told a clear story of sleepless nights, relentless studying, and quiet desperation.

But in this moment, none of that mattered.

She’d done it.

Meanwhile, Vanessa turned her own gaze toward the board.

Her name sat right near the top of the specialized course rankings.

She didn’t react outwardly, but a small nod of satisfaction gave her away.

Unlike Emilia, she hadn’t been too concerned about the release of the results.

They’d been dropped unexpectedly, unlike the mid-terms, where students had days of notice.

Still, it made little difference to her.

She had passed.

As expected,

Though she understood Emilia’s relief far more than she let on.

For general course students like her, written exams weren’t just a formality—they were a major part of their grades, something that could determine whether they advanced or got held back.

For someone like Emilia, who had taken on more than most—fighting, training, healing, protecting others from demons, and trying to find traces of a certain boy—it had been an uphill battle.

But she’d climbed it.

And that meant more than the score ever could.

Vanessa gave her one more soft pat.

“Well done, Emmy.”

“…Thanks, Vanny,” Emilia whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Her usual radiant demeanor flickered behind a fragile smile. “I really thought I wouldn’t make it this time… with all the things we had to do… t-thank you, dear Goddess.”

Vanessa let out a quiet laugh, a melodic “Fufu” that sounded almost like a chime. “Please don’t just suddenly start praying out here, Emmy. You’ll draw attention.”

“A-Ah—! I forgot!” Emilia gasped, before breaking into a sheepish giggle. “Hehe~ now His Holiness won’t stop me from attending next semester. I even secured my spot in the top ten! Can you believe that?! Top ten once again let’s go!”

Her eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy, and her hands fluttered excitedly in front of her chest as if unable to contain the relief bursting from her chest.

It had been so long since Vanessa had seen her like this.

Truly smiling.

Not the forced kind she wore during healing ceremonies, nor the brave face she put on while casting barrier spells and chanting divine prayers through gritted teeth.

This was a real, innocent smile.

A smile that belonged to a girl her age—young, hopeful, and so full of light it almost made Vanessa squint.

It was a sight to behold.

And one Vanessa hadn’t realized she missed until just now.

For the past several months, Emilia had worn nothing but stress on her shoulders.

The constant weight of their hidden battles—the curse infestations, the corrupted spirits, the secrets buried beneath the academy grounds—all of it had pushed her to the edge.

Behind closed doors, when no one was watching, Emilia often sat in silence, her fingers trembling from overused mana channels, her prayers murmured with cracked lips.

Although their mission had ended, and they had succeeded in preventing the worst-case scenario from unfolding, it didn’t mean the battle had left them unscathed.

Especially not Emilia.

She had carried more than her share of the burden—facing down manifestations of evil, absorbing divine backlash, and still somehow managing to stay standing beside their senior, Lucas, during the final confrontation.

The others—Vanessa included—had done what they could in the decisive battle. But Emilia…

She had been at the center of it all.

The one who bore the curses of the Fallen Noble class demons.

She might’ve been the Saintess—chosen by divinity, blessed by prophecy—but in the end, she was still just a girl.

A girl who, like everyone else, wanted to enjoy academy life.

Who wanted to laugh, attend dances, complain about exams, gossip with friends, maybe even fall in love.

Vanessa had worried about that.

Silently, of course.

She wasn’t one to show concern openly, but she had seen the cracks in Emilia’s armor.

The fatigue in her steps.

The way her smile had faded into a polite curve over time.

She had wondered if Emilia would ever bounce back… or if their missions had stolen something too precious from her.

But now, watching her practically glow with excitement, bouncing slightly on her heels and holding her rank sheet like it was a badge of honor, Vanessa felt a rare sense of relief.

Perhaps her worries had been for nothing.

“…Looks like you’re ready for next semester already,” Vanessa said softly.

“Of course I am!” Emilia grinned. “There’s still so much I want to do! I want to take that advanced blessings class—and the herbology elective too! Oh! And maybe I can finally join the music club now that I’ve caught up on my grades…”

Her voice trailed off into a whirlwind of plans, her mind already racing ahead, dreaming about a normal student life she hadn’t dared to hope for just weeks ago.

“Hoh~? What’s all this about?” a familiar smirking voice called out from behind them. “Did our little stupid chick manage to pass again~?”

The voice was unmistakable—teasing, smug, and laced with a sort of casual arrogance that somehow made Emilia smile instead of flinch.

“F-Flamme! You’re here!” Emilia beamed, her voice lighting up with a giggle as she turned around excitedly.

Standing there, hands in her oversized sleeves, was Flamme.

The gray-haired young woman was wrapped in her usual baggy, layered robe that draped lazily around her lean frame like smoke on stone.

Her half-lidded eyes gleamed with mischief as she raised one brow at Emilia’s approaching figure.

But before the Saintess could even throw her arms around her in a hug, Flamme’s hand shot out with practiced precision and pressed flat against Emilia’s face, stopping her like a divine interception.

“—Tsk. Don’t just dash into people like that, you divine freak,” Flamme muttered, holding Emilia at arm’s length by the face. “And of course I’m here. I’ve got to check my own score, don’t I?”

“Aww, come on~ I was just happy to see you again!” Emilia whined through her squished cheeks, her voice muffled by Flamme’s palm.

“You’re always happy. It’s exhausting.”

Before Emilia could protest further, another voice chimed in, crisp and refined like the snap of a blade unsheathing.

“That sharp tongue of yours truly never changes. The semester’s about to turn, Flamme. How about maturing a little?”

They turned toward the voice and saw a young woman approaching with steady poise, golden ponytail swaying behind her.

Her sharp blue eyes were calm, composed—elegant, even—but there was a warmth beneath that cool exterior.

“Ah! Reina!” Emilia squealed with delight. She gave up on hugging Flamme and instantly dashed toward the blonde swordswoman instead.

This time, her hug was successful.

Reina caught her with open arms and returned the embrace gently, patting the back of Emilia’s head with a soft, maternal touch.

“Looks like you did well, Enna,” she said with a faint smile.

“Hehe~ I tried my best!” Emilia replied, her voice muffled against Reina’s uniform.

“Is that so? Good job.” Reina’s words were brief, but sincere. A part of her wanted to call her by her real name—Emilia—or even a private nickname like “Emmy.”

But the academy still enforced restrictions around the Saintess’s true identity.

‘Enna’ was the safe alias she had to use in public, and it reminded Reina that while Emilia was beaming with joy now, she still carried a heavy weight.

Flamme watched the scene with a slight tilt of her head, her expression unreadable for a second—then her smirk returned.

“Hoh~? You’re here too?” she said lazily, turning her attention to Reina. “And here I thought a sword freak like you would’ve already run off to train yourself into the dirt. Afraid of getting last place again?”

“What did you say?” Reina responded, her voice dropping just enough in pitch to give the air a subtle chill.

“Oh my, what did I say?” Flamme repeated with a feigned innocent blink. “Want me to say it again? I’m happy to.”

“You—”

And just like that, sparks flared between the two. Reina’s cool demeanor was cracking ever so slightly, and Flamme’s smirk grew wider as if feeding off the friction.

Vanessa, who had been quietly observing from the side, let out a rare chuckle under her breath. Emilia giggled too, leaning closer to her.

“They really don’t change, do they?” Emilia whispered.

“Nope,” Vanessa replied with a faint smile, crossing her arms under her cloak. “Some things are simply eternal.”

“Like their rivalry?”

“Like their childishness.”

The tension between Flamme and Reina didn’t escalate beyond the usual glares and pointed words.

“Hmm… looks like everyone’s here now.”

Another voice joined the gathering, smooth and confident.

The group turned slightly as a tall young woman strode toward them with quiet grace.

She had golden blonde hair tied neatly behind her, and her green eyes glinted like spring sunlight.

A gleaming white spear, wrapped in cloth, was strapped across her back.

“Uriel!” Emilia called out with excitement, still snug in Reina’s arms. She waved with both hands, her smile bright and childlike.

Uriel gave her a small wave in return, her usual composed demeanor softening with a hint of warmth as she nodded to the rest of the group.

“Seems like we all made it through, huh?” she said, her eyes scanning each of their expressions. “The practical scores were already sealed, so the real suspense was always the written exams.”

Vanessa, still lounging near the edge of the group, nodded as she pushed her hood back a bit. “Well, even for us in the Magic Department, the written scores matter”