The Dark Fantasy Hero Gets Possessed into a Romance Novel (1)
Neighhh―
Clack-clack― Clack-clack―
"Damn it...."
Ten years ago, the hero who fell into the Dave Continent and saved the world.
Zeke Clayman.
He was heading to Lamieli Academy, loaded into a creaking military carriage like so much luggage.
Lamieli Academy. The place was in the empire's capital, and it was a goddamn long way off.
His situation was so absurd he muttered a quiet curse.
"What in the world is going on here? And why the hell is my speech like this.... Shii...it."
He buried his face in his hands, denying reality, but nothing changed.
He missed the stale, cigarette-reeking old mattress in his studio apartment.
This is what now?
As Zeke wiped his face, he felt something cold and metallic. He stared down at his hand.
Thick, callused, feral hands.
On the fourth finger gleamed a red gemstone ring.
He hated anything dangling on his hands,
so in a fit of annoyance, he yanked off the ring and chucked it out of the carriage.
"Haa.... I never should've left that comment, that damn comment...."
This whole situation felt like some hidden camera prank for someone's amusement.
Or maybe a fabricated dream.
He'd considered every angle, but this familiar sensation was reality.
Zeke accepted it quickly.
After all, getting kidnapped to another world wasn't a first for him.
The first time was a hero summoning.
He'd grinded a game for ages and become the first to solo the final boss no one else had beaten.
'Wanna try beating it for real now?'
Next thing he knew, he was dropped into a hopeless dark fantasy world wearing nothing but his underwear.
And there, he'd slaved away like a dog for a full ten years.
Scraping through mountains and brushes with death, he'd finally cut down the final boss.
He'd saved the world.
And he'd sworn to live a normal life from then on.
Possessed into a romance fantasy novel? Really?
I got complacent.
Burned out from games, Zeke hadn't touched anything starting with 'G' after returning to Earth.
He'd been paranoid for a whole year, avoiding even falling 'G's.
Hell, he'd steered clear of the English 'G' too.
Exactly one year later, Zeke let his guard down.
After returning to Earth.
With all that free time from quitting his daily gaming grind, Zeke picked up an old childhood hobby to kill the boredom.
Webnovels.
But he couldn't touch his old favorites.
Not the classic fantasies where heroes save the world,
nor the alternate histories with rivers of blood from war, isekai transfers, martial arts, hunters, or game fantasies.
He wouldn't even glance at them.
He was sick to death of gripping swords and slicing things after all those experiences.
After filtering those out, all that remained was 'romance fantasy.'
The cutesy settings with a pretty heroine tangling sweetly with various men—it was ridiculous enough to be a perfect heal for him.
Until the swordsmanship scene in one novel he was reading, [The Secret Girl of Lamieli Academy].
They say there are three things people must endure.
First: clutching a game until it rots, grinding like a madman.
Second: writing your own novel.
Third: leaving a 5,700-character comment on a novel.
Yes. Zeke committed the third sin here.
Even after suffering so much from the first one!
The scene in question: the heroine chased by bandits.
The usual cliché: the obsessive stalker Second Prince swoops in at the crisis, massacring the bandits.
The author seemed eager to show off sword knowledge, devoting three full pages to the prince's moves.
But to Zeke, with ten years of real combat under his belt, the prince's swordplay looked utterly ridiculous and awkward.
He couldn't hold back and hammered out a wall-of-text comment, packed tight like a rice ball overflowing—5,700 characters.
Without even proper spacing!
When he saw the author's reply,
his hair stood on end. He hit delete immediately, but it was too late.
If he'd known that careless comment would lead to romance novel possession,
he never would've posted it.
This wasn't even a novel he was invested in—just one of seven rom-fantas he was skimming.
The first time he'd ever commented on one, skimming through.
He couldn't remember the plot or events.
Not even the protagonist's name!
Rom-fan heroines all have such similar names, it's confusing....
Raking his brain, the scraps he dredged up were just that the possession point was early in the serialization,
and a few scenes of the hero and heroine flirting at the academy. That was it.
And the biggest problem.
The original owner of this body he possessed: a retired soldier.
This lunatic had donated all his military pay upon discharge and applied to be a swordsmanship instructor at the academy to 'teach the kids.'
How loose-screwed do you have to be to make that choice? Zeke couldn't fathom it.
Too late, he'd tried to back out, raising his voice.
But all he got was, 'The generals already enjoyed that money.'
In the end, he had to take the academy instructor gig just to survive.
Why not find another job?
Imperial approval was already stamped—withdrawing now meant 'treason' and an iron-bar ending.
'That, fucking general.... Should I just flip the table? Rebel once?'
He thought it, but let it go.
A deep sigh welled up from his gut.
Ah, he craved a smoke.
A proper Earth cig, 10mg tar and nicotine packed tight.
As a ten-year fantasy vet, he knew the local smokes would taste like shit.
"Sword instructor without wielding a sword.... Ha, nonsense."
Through the tiny carriage window slit, the scenery slowly rolled by.
Sun shining down, sky ridiculously high and blue.
A clean breeze ruffled his bangs.
"Perfect day to drop dead."
"Kyaaaaah!!!"
"Grk! Kieeek!!"
"Listen to that—someone's dying.... Huh?"
A sharp scream echoed from afar, mixed with weird shrieks.
Zeke stuck his head out the window to check.
"What is it?"
"Z-Zeke, sir...."
The coachman, trembling like a leaf, pointed somewhere.
Zeke narrowed his eyes and looked where indicated.
"Kieeek! Keruk!"
"Keruk, Kerruk!"
In the distance, squat green monsters were swarming a fancy carriage.
Wheels off, broken everywhere—a wrecked sight.
The monsters scraped metal with grating noises.
And there was one silver-haired woman, ankle-grabbed and bloodied.
Huh? Goblins? This is a rom-fan world—why the hell are those bastards here too?
Should he ignore it?
The tempting thought flashed through his mind.
"Zeke sir.... I think those things spotted us."
"Too late, huh...."
With a sigh—who knew how many this made—Zeke opened the door and stepped out, utterly unmotivated.
Dark green skin, potbellies protruding, drooling saliva.
The six goblins glared with beady eyes.
"Kieeeek!!"
Three shrieked and charged his carriage.
Zeke instinctively reached for a sword, then paused.
"Against these punks.... Yeah, no need for a blade."
The goblins closed in, swinging clubs.
Zeke tilted his head to dodge, snatched one's throat, and jabbed with fingers.
Pfook-!
Carotid pierced in a flash—green blood sprayed from the goblin's neck.
Zeke shook it off and kicked toward the next.
Crack-!
"Kieeeek!"
Splat-!
"Grraaaah!!"
Each swing of Zeke's fist caved a face, dropping them.
Shrieking and twitching, Zeke stomped their necks to finish.
The three went down in a blink.
The remaining goblins exchanged panicked looks, then raised clubs over the fallen woman.
Come closer, and she dies.
"Pathetic shits...."
Zeke eyed them coldly, picked up three pebbles at his feet.
Then hurled them with force.
Whiiiist―
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Grk."
"Kek!"
"Graaak!"
Heads pierced, the monsters crumpled like marionettes with cut strings.
His dark fantasy combat experience was etched into every motion, body change or no.
Paired with this frontliner physique, it wasn't his prime, but half that power he could mimic.
Zeke stared blankly at the green blood on his hand.
On mana-less Earth, such feats were impossible.
Experience lingered sans mana, so he'd have beaten goblins barehanded anyway.
But piercing throats with fingers or bulleting stones to smash skulls? No.
Zeke let out a hollow chuckle.
Much scarcer than dark fantasy, but this rom-fan world had mana too.
And monsters roaming.
Surely no monster scenes in the novel I read.
Had there been, he'd have dropped it on sight.
Probably skipped mentioning since it focused on academy life.
Ha. What a clusterfuck. One more reason to get back to Earth.
Zeke gathered his thoughts and turned.
"Coachman."
"Y-Yes!? Yes, sir?"
"Tend to that woman, treat her. Check if anyone's inside the carriage too."
He jerked his chin at the wrecked vehicle.
The coachman, jaw slack from the display, scrambled toward her.
* * *
"Mm...."
The youngest lady of the Yohayden Duke's Mansion,
Serena Yohayden awoke, frowning at the stuffiness in her body.
Pain throbbed like bruises everywhere.
Soon, the last scene flashed: grotesque cries, shambling dark-green skin. Goblins. Swinging clubs.
Infamous for kidnapping women to breed.
Rescued victims were always found in wretched states.
N-No way!!
She tried moving, but felt tightly bound.
Noooo!!!
For Serena, only a living death awaited.
Dreading those monsters' visits nightly, trembling days. They wouldn't even let her suicide.
Staring dead-eyed at her swelling belly, regretting her whole life.
Things undone.
Things done.
Things had.
Things lost before.
Things to lose ahead.
Everything swelled in her mind, then faded dim.
Despair.
Tears flowed freely.
Her head burned; sticky fear crept from ankles up.
Serena squeezed her eyes shut.
If only I hadn't insisted on the academy.... Should've listened to Father.... Why sneak from the knights? That damn sword—what was it worth? Mother, Father.... What do I do?
Then.
"Suffocating, eh? Who the hell ties like that! Move! No, get lost!"
A thug-like man's voice rang out.
Blink. Blink.
She cracked her eyes. Saw the voice's owner.
Jet-black hair, fierce eyes, matching black pupils. A body radiating feral charm.
The man reached for her body.
"Kyaaaaah!!"
"What, you're up?"
"Wh-what are you doing!?"
Serena twisted away. But her body wouldn't obey.
Goblins gone, now a rapist.
Terror shook her, but she quickly steeled herself.
Right. I'm Serena Yohayden. Stay calm.
Gulp. She swallowed.
Yeah, better than goblins.
Unlike mindless beasts, a human would know power.
She thought fast.
Glared sharply at the man.
"Do you know who I am and still do this?"
"Like I give a shit. Hold still."
"I, I'm!"
Oh god! This filthy man spoke like her identity meant nothing!
The most dangerous type....
Huh? The man was slowly untying the cloth on her body. What?
Blink. Blink.
Sensing something off, Serena watched.
He untied the cloth binding her, then rebound it neatly.
This time, no restriction.
"Coachman tied it weird, so I redid it. So, who are you?"
"Eh?"