How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game-Chapter 330: Returning Practically 4

We Are Special.

That single sentence alone had shaped Magnus into the person he was today.

It was more than just a phrase—it was a belief, a truth ingrained into his very existence from the moment he was born.

Magnus Maverick.

A name that carried weight.

A name tied to one of the most prestigious noble families within the empire—the House of Mavericks, a marquis lineage known for its unparalleled martial and magical prowess.

From the day he could comprehend words, Magnus had been told—no, assured—that he was special.

And it wasn’t just empty flattery.

His entire family was proof of it.

His father, a renowned war hero.

His mother, a spellblade of terrifying skill.

His older siblings—each one an exceptional talent, gifted both physically and magically, making their marks on history before they even reached adulthood.

And Magnus?

He was no different.

His talent was recognized early, his potential praised. His every achievement met with nods of approval—yet always followed by expectations.

He was meant to be great.

He was meant to be the best.

And so, he worked.

No—he pushed himself to the brink of death.

From grueling physical training that left his muscles torn and bleeding to life-threatening overexertion in his studies, Magnus endured it all.

Every weight he lifted, every skill he honed, every sleepless night he spent mastering his craft—it was all done for a single purpose:

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To prove himself.

To prove that he belonged among the extraordinary individuals of his family.

To prove that he was worthy of being called special.

And Yet—

When the academy’s first-year rankings were announced, his heart shattered.

Not only was the top spot stolen from him—

But he wasn’t even allowed the second.

Third.

Magnus Maverick, ranked third among the entire first-year knight department.

It was the greatest humiliation of his life.

For the first time, he was forced to confront reality—

That being "special" was nothing more than kind words in a world where monstrous geniuses existed.

But even with that harsh truth laid before him, instead of succumbing to despair, Magnus simply shrugged and smiled.

If anything, it motivated him.

If there was a peak above him, that only meant it was still within reach.

He was only ranked third for now.

The future wasn’t set in stone. As long as he pushed himself harder—as long as he refused to give up—the summit he sought would one day be his.

And Yet…

Why?

Why were the very geniuses he aspired to surpass—falling before his eyes?

—"Hey, take cover!!!"

—FLASH!

A searing bluish-white light erupted across the field, forcing Magnus to shield his eyes. His vision blurred for a split second, and when it cleared—

Agonized groans filled the air.

Bodies littered the ground.

His classmates—those who stood at the pinnacle of their generation—were writhing in pain, struggling to push themselves up.

Some twitched from the aftershock of whatever had struck them.

Others were barely conscious, their bodies battered and bloody.

A streak of blue lightning crackled in the air.

And in its wake—

Princess Stacia, her red fan now shattered and discarded, gasped for breath, her once-impeccable uniform tattered and stained.

Uriel, the monstrous spear-wielder, who prided herself on her relentless offense, trembled as she planted her weapon into the ground—using it not as a weapon, but as a crutch just to stay on her feet.

Blood dripped from her split lip, her arms shaking violently from exertion.

And standing before them—

A single man.

Unmoving.

Expressionless.

Riley Hell.

The monster in human form.

’Father…. Being special is nothing…’

For the first time in his life Magnus felt like truly giving up…

...

When Riley’s presence pressed down upon every student on the stage, an unshakable question loomed over them all.

"Why… do I feel so weak?"

He wasn’t moving aggressively. He wasn’t exuding an overwhelming aura of killing intent.

Riley simply stood there, staring at them with the same distant, emotionless gaze he always had.

Yet, despite his lack of hostility—despite the fact that he was alone against all of them—

No one felt confident.

Not a single one.

Instead, an instinctive fear rooted itself deep in their bones, screaming at them—don’t get too close.

They knew the logic of the situation. Riley had challenged them all—and logic dictated that with their combined strength, they should have overwhelmed him.

But logic didn’t apply to monsters.

And Riley Hell was no ordinary opponent.

FLASH!

—"UGH!!"

A sharp gasp tore from Stacia’s lips as she barely managed to block Riley’s attack—an attack so blindingly fast that she hadn’t even seen it coming.

Ever since the battle had begun, she had taken the brunt of his strikes.

She could barely keep up.

"Now!!!"

She shouted as she threw herself backward, escaping the force of his blow.

But she didn’t need to tell Uriel what to do.

She was already moving.

A silver streak of light—the monstrous spear-wielder launched herself forward with terrifying speed, her entire body a spear honed to pierce through any obstacle in her path.

—WHOOSH!!!

A well-coordinated assault.

Despite this being their first battle together, Stacia and Uriel moved in perfect sync, attacking Riley with the precision of warriors trained for years in battle.

And yet—

CLANG!!!

It was effortless.

Riley easily intercepted Uriel’s attack, his sword flashing upward with such perfect control that it was as if he had read their movements before they even made them.

The moment her spear made contact—

CRACK!

A shockwave rippled through Uriel’s arms.

She gritted her teeth as a sickening pain shot through her muscles—his block alone had sent tremors through her entire body.

She had attacked with everything she had.

But the man before her didn’t even flinch.

Taking a step back, Uriel quickly repositioned herself, her breath steady despite the ache in her arms.

She wiped away the thin trickle of blood running down her forehead, the small cut on her cheek already beginning to heal, her body naturally recovering from the relentless exchange, the divine energy within her slowly being reduced by the second.

"Tsk… he hasn’t even moved once."

Her voice was laced with irritation.

From the very start of the battle, Riley hadn’t taken a single step from his spot.

He simply stood there, waiting, forcing them to throw everything they had at him—only for him to swat aside their efforts as if they were nothing.

The fact that he remained utterly unshaken made their already frustrating battle even more infuriating.

Across from her, Stacia was slowly readjusting her stance.

She took a deep breath, igniting the fiery mana within her core.

Flames roared to life around her blade, crackling in the cold air.

Her grip tightened.

This wasn’t the first time she had fought Riley.

And yet—why did it feel so different now?

She had known from their previous encounters that Riley had some ability to sap the strength of his opponents through unknown means.

But this time, that wasn’t the issue.

Even without their power being gradually drained, the gap between them felt insurmountable.

Riley’s strength was simply too overwhelming.

Her eyes darted across the battlefield.

Bodies littered the ground.

Her classmates—declared as the most talented first-years—had already fallen.

Some unconscious. Some bloodied and barely able to move.

It was safe to say that their re-evaluation was already over…

Right now, only four people remained standing.

Four able-bodied fighters who had somehow managed to endure Riley’s onslaught.

Stacia. Uriel. Magnus. Reina.

Stacia and Uriel, both seasoned warriors in their own right, were already battered and exhausted, their once-coordinated assaults amounting to nothing more than futile resistance.

Magnus, the red-haired young man, who surprisingly stood his ground despite the sharp pain radiating from his right arm—broken after a single, devastating kick from Riley.

His breathing was ragged, but his fiery determination hadn’t been extinguished.

And then, there was Reina Hell.

Riley’s younger sister.

Much like them, she hadn’t been spared from his merciless attacks.

Cuts and bruises marred her arms and face, the once-pristine academy uniform now tattered from the battle.

Despite being part of the S-Class, Reina was undeniably the weakest among them.

Yet, from the very beginning, she had been the first one to attack.

She had known that charging in recklessly wouldn’t work. She had known it was suicide.

And yet—she still chose to fight.

Now, she stood there, hands on her knees, chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath.

Attacking Riley head-on was getting them nowhere.

Fighting him one-on-one? Impossible.

Fighting him together? Still impossible.

He was an unshakable wall.

No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t break through.

So—if they couldn’t break him…

Then they had to climb him.

They needed a new approach.

"Reina! Do you know any information about Riley?" Stacia suddenly shouted.

Reina blinked, looking at her in confusion. "What do you mean—"

"Any weaknesses. Something useful. Anything that will help us win this fight."

Reina hesitated.

A weakness?

Her brother?

Her mind raced. She searched through every memory, every moment she had spent with Riley.

But…

Her grip tightened.

"I’m sorry," she finally admitted, her voice laced with frustration. "I don’t know what to tell you, Princess… He might be my brother… but this is the first time I’ve ever faced him like this."