How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Somehow, these three were fully aware of me.

That fact alone narrowed the possibilities.

Either they were ancient entities hidden far beyond the reach of normal perception… or they weren't part of this world to begin with.

No.

The more likely answer—was that they were beings who existed far beyond the mortal realm.

But the thing that disturbed me more than anything else Is that they didn't radiate divinity.

No divine mana.

No celestial aura.

Nothing that even remotely resembled gods or archons or demons.

And yet—

I could see it.

No, that wasn't right.

I couldn't just see it.

It was like their presence bent the air around them, distorting reality in subtle, imperceptible ways.

It wasn't something I sensed through mana or intuition.

It was the result of my skill: [True Sight].

With that ability active, my vision allowed me to glance—not fully see, but glimpse—what they really were.

And the truth?

There was no weakness.

None at all.

Not even flaws in structure, spiritual anchors, or energy points.

Even the White Queen—one of the most broken entities I'd encountered—had an identifiable flaw.

A metaphysical anchor I could theorize a countermeasure for.

But with these three?

It was like trying to measure the depth of an ocean by staring at a single ripple on its surface.

"Tch. Hey, kid," the young girl suddenly snapped, breaking the silence. "Stop looking without permission or I'll gouge your eyes out."

She didn't sound like she was bluffing.

And the moment she spoke, I instinctively deactivated [True Sight].

My gaze dropped slightly in subtle respect, more out of caution than fear.

She crossed her arms and leaned back, looking away with a huff.

"Just like that annoying woman said just now, we're not here to harm you or anything," she added, more casually now. "We're just here to observe. Maybe give you a little heads-up."

The man in the black skull mask tapped his fingers on the table, as if trying to decide whether to clarify or let her talk.

"Introductions," he said after a moment, "aren't exactly easy, considering the restrictions placed on us. So we'll have to make do with vague answers."

He tilted his head slightly, as if debating how much to reveal.

"But if it helps you understand what we really are… think of us as aspects. No, maybe that's too abstract."

The woman in the goat-like mask chimed in with a chuckle. "More like managers, perhaps?"

"Or children," the young girl cut in again. "Yeah. Children of the being you're about to face."

"Children… Being?"

"Yes, 'Being'"

She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, yet the word echoed in my ears with unnatural resonance.

Then her eyes met mine.

No, not mine.

She wasn't looking at me.

She was peering into me—past the surface, past the flesh, beyond the mana circuits or my thoughts.

She was staring directly into the tangled, unstable core of my soul.

That's when it clicked.

The darkness inside me.

The unhealed scars.

The cold, coiling fragment that had never truly left.

"Er—"

"Ah-ah, don't say her name," a gentle whisper cut me off, right at my ear.

I froze.

The mature woman—when had she moved?—was now suddenly behind me, so close I could feel the soft pressure of her chest against my back and her warm breath brushing the side of my cheek.

One of her gloved hands covered my mouth in a teasing hush, the other resting lightly on my shoulder.

"We'll get in trouble if you say her name aloud," she said sweetly, voice laced with warning and amusement.

"This whole little… get-together is a selfish whim on our part to personally help you out~ and it took quite a bit to bend the rules this much."

Her fingers moved from my mouth and slowly slid down to rest atop my hands, which were still resting tensely on the table.

"So please, won't you cooperate? If you want to get past us—and trust me, you do—you'll want our help. That Being you nearly spoke of… is rather sensitive. Temperamental, even."

She guided my right hand carefully, wrapping her fingers around mine to adjust my grip on the knife and fork.

"Let me show you," she whispered, voice like silk. "This little dinner might resemble your mortal customs… but it's not quite the same. The rules are subtle, delicate. Every motion has meaning. So pay attention to my guidance, alright?"

I nodded stiffly, more out of instinct than understanding.

I let her maneuver my hands, showing me how to cut through the steak with controlled precision.

The meat was absurdly tender.

I barely applied any force before the blade slid cleanly through, and even that small success sent a strange wave of relief through the air, like an unspoken expectation had been met.

"You're doing well," she murmured, now reclining gracefully into the chair beside me again, her red hair falling loosely across her shoulders.

She smiled behind her mask, eyes half-lidded with something between mischief and approval.

Then the man in the black skull mask cleared his throat.

"Now that you've been instructed in the mechanics," he said calmly, "it's time to learn the etiquette."

His tone was crisp, his posture impeccable, his presence commanding without being forceful.

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"The way you sit, the way you breathe, how you lift your fork—these things matter here. Elegance is not an option. It's a necessity. Every gesture carries intent. Every movement is a declaration."

I sat up straighter without realizing, my hand adjusting the angle of my fork midair.

"Good," he said with a nod, watching. "You're not hopeless."

"Yet," the girl muttered with a grin, plucking a grape from her side plate and tossing it into her mouth.

Whatever this place was, whatever rules it followed—it was starting to feel less like a dream and more like some kind of surreal test.

A performance where failing to act the part might mean more than just embarrassment.

"Hey! I was supposed to start teaching him how to properly look at someone first!"

The young child suddenly burst out, voice high and indignant, practically vibrating with frustration as she pointed accusingly at the mature woman behind me.

"You don't just throw someone like him in front of her and expect him to stay standing! It's hard enough maintaining proper consciousness in her presence—even I struggle! And now she wants to face him directly? No no no! Teaching him how to properly control his soul is a must! We can't have him immediately pass out just from hearing her say hello!"

The mature woman chuckled softly, completely unbothered.

Her tone was elegant, almost teasing.

"Well, I've already started. You can come after me~"

"Tch. Don't act so smug," the child huffed, stamping her foot. "There's an order to things for a reason!"

Then, the black-masked man at the far end of the room—who had remained still up until now—let out a sigh.

"No. He must learn the proper elegance first," he said in a deep, composed voice. "Without balance, without grace, no amount of soul reinforcement will matter. He'll crumble the moment pressure is applied. So you can come last, child."

There was a beat of silence.

"...."

"...."

And then—

"What did you say to me… you absurdly tall giraffe!?" the young girl shouted, turning sharply to face him with a glare so intense it felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees.

"…Huh?" the masked man said, his voice laced with mild annoyance.

"HUHHHH???" she bit back, practically roaring at him as small sparks of lightning began to crackle around her feet.

The air in the room shifted instantly—energy built between them like opposing thunderclouds.

Sparks of violet and dark lightning clashed invisibly between the glowing eyes behind their masks.

I wasn't even sure if they were actually touching, but the pressure was real.

It pressed against my chest like a weight, humming with chaotic tension.

For a moment, I genuinely thought they might kill each other.

But then… I looked closer.

Despite the insults, the outbursts, the blinding display of raw energy, there was something strangely familiar in how they bickered.

Like siblings locked in an endless loop of rivalry.

Their words cut deep, but never drew blood, as they continued to rash talk each other...

If anything, it was as if they enjoyed this.

I slowly turned my head back to the mature woman who had one gloved hand resting on my shoulder.

Her touch was gentle, deliberate.

The opposite of the chaos unfolding before me.

If these two were siblings—then she must be too.

It was a logical assumption, and all the pieces were beginning to fit together.

With their masks, with their strange aura, with the sheer impossibility of their presence… it wasn't hard to tell what they were, even if I still didn't know the full picture.

And whatever they were, they were preparing me for something related to a dinner…

That much was clear.

A low, sultry laugh tickled my ear.

"Fufu~ Ignore those two for now, child," the mature woman whispered, her voice soft and intoxicating. "And focus on my teaching. If you can't even stay still with them bickering, how do you plan to survive when she speaks to you?"

Right.

I exhaled slowly, shaking off the dizzying sense of surrealism that had wrapped around me like a fog.

I knew the moment I struck a deal with Erebil that something strange would happen.

But this….

This was something I totally did not expect….