Dark Fantasy Saga

Darkness enveloped the man in the robe as he slowly straightened his body.

Before his eyes, a woman with white hair stood there, her face twisted in a broken smile as she stabbed her dagger straight into the bellies of her party members.

She was beautiful.

Her snow-white hair was soaked red with blood, and even her face, painted with madness, could not hide its former radiance.

With every wet crunch of flesh being pierced, she whimpered through tears.

“I told you not to look at me. If only you hadn’t looked… You said you believed in me…”

Her voice was flat and emotionless, like a broken recording, as she drove the dagger deeper into the corpse that had already gone cold.

“...Hehe...”

She laughed like an innocent child, then her neck snapped 180 degrees with a sickening crack.

The woman twisted her head in a grotesque circle as if completely unfazed by the sound of a human body breaking.

Her gaze locked onto me, and I drew my sword.

Soon blood erupted. A horrifying monster burst forth from beneath her skin—

“...Haa.”

Damn this trash game. I don’t even feel angry anymore.

Slowly, I lowered my headset.

The familiar title logo floated before my eyes.

Dark Fantasy Saga

Dark Fantasy Saga.

The story of those who set out on a journey to restore the ruined world.

Every heroine’s illustration was perfect. The narrative was superb.

The balance between academy daily life and combat sections was exquisite.

Fluid graphics, lively illustrations, even interactive elements. It was like turning a well-crafted TRPG into a game.

I had heard the praise, and the game had continued without a single flaw.

The only drawback was the difficulty that felt like a caricature of the “cheating” genre, and a story as lifeless as one written by someone who had only read literary novels—dreams, hopes, nothing.

Every heroine died. The development team’s obsession was clear: they were determined to kill every character.

Even death erased your save data. The game’s difficulty was absurd.

Because of this, Dark Fantasy Saga had still not seen a single true ending even after ten days on sale.

First, the game was too well made. If I did nothing, the situation still played out like garbage.

Just as a single human body could only hold one problem, once I solved one issue, the others exploded like a promise.

And to enjoy the rush, they had created dozens of bad endings.

That wasn’t all.

Consistent with the dark fantasy theme, every character started with a stigma and a negative trait.

The setting stated that strong powers inevitably triggered negative traits.

“...How did you know about that?”

When a negative trait exploded like this, the character turned into a monster.

What was it again? The lore said something about the greater the power, the greater the drawback.

To simplify: strong abilities caused negative traits.

A simple example: the fire-spitting teammate had the negative trait “Fire Madness.”

And that friend who just blew up my data had a beautiful appearance but would go berserk and kill everyone the moment someone looked at her.

I hadn’t been looking. Didn’t she know that if I hadn’t looked, we would have been fine? How could I control my teammates, seriously.

Her face was pretty—couldn’t I just look?

Anyway, thanks to the outstanding graphics and living-like characters, the game started with overwhelmingly positive reviews.

After people tasted its bitter flavor and left, the reviews eventually turned positive too.

Of course, that’s why so many of us suffered and shared information in the community, enduring endless hardships just to see the endings.

Still, I had to brag about it.

75% achieved. No questions asked.

Nickname: TerribleGame

I stared at the community.

75%.

I could swear that among all players of Dark Fantasy Saga, I was the farthest along.

The highest I had ever seen was 56%. That was it.

Yeah. I had to share at least some information.

Thinking that, I placed my hand on the keyboard.

A new message window popped up on the title screen.

Special reward for collecting 50 endings.

Special reward?

I knew this game had an ending-collection element, but I had no idea there were special rewards.

No, actually, thinking about it, it was necessary.

How was I supposed to clear this trash game blind?

Of course there were special rewards.

“...Huu.”

But some hope was beginning to return.

I opened the internet window again.

Special reward for collecting endings.

Nickname: TerribleGame

[Title attached]

First, let me say it.

I had posted the message and turned my gaze back to the game screen.

Yeah. Let’s try again. I could do it.

When I clicked the New Game window, the screen I hated seeing the most appeared.

A window asking me to distribute stats.

“...Oh.”

Real special reward.

Normally, every character in Dark Fantasy Saga started with 5 in every stat.

And you only had 5 points to distribute.

With the special reward, I would receive about 10 extra points.

And I dumped all of them without a second thought.

“I will never see such a terrible situation again.”

Low spirit meant weak mental strength.

Combat could be handled by twisting my body somehow, but the events caused by low spirit shot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my blood pressure through the roof.

Seeing a lover’s corpse and attempting suicide. Seeing my hometown destroyed and attempting suicide. Hearing voices and abandoning teammates to flee.

Even the game itself didn’t raise stats easily.

Especially spirit-related items—finding them was a miracle.

I realized I needed high spirit stats just to avoid fatal instant-death events and avoid drawbacks.

I finished distributing stats in ten seconds and pressed the next button.

A new window appeared.

You may start after learning one swordsmanship or magic.

Dark Fantasy Saga had countless magics, sword techniques, and skills.

At the start, you could learn one swordsmanship or magic.

Well, I had to use the build I always used.

While scrolling, a strange name caught my eye.

“...Cursed Swordsmanship?”

I knew this.

Ah, I remembered.

Cursed Swordsmanship.

That was the sword technique I had just picked up—the one the mid-boss had been using.

Despite the setting, it boasted insane damage but drained the user’s health and spirit.

I had used it once and watched a party member die instantly where he stood, forcing me to start over.

“...”

Actually, this was a chance.

If I could abandon all these trash teammates and clear the game alone?

Since I had maxed spirit, normal mental attacks probably wouldn’t work.

I could just keep drinking potions while learning this sword technique, right?

Anyway, I could farm gold however I wanted.

“...”

Decided. Let’s go with this build.

Cursed Swordsmanship learned.

Good.

I leaned against the backrest and checked my character stats.

Perfect.

This time would be different.

I would abandon all these trash teammates and live a new life without negative traits.

If I died, I could just try again.

I clicked the GAME START button.

Welcome to Dark Fantasy Saga.

With the familiar welcome message that I had seen countless times,

—Thud.

My body collapsed with a wave of dizziness.

“...?”

What the—?

No strength in my body. Vision blurred.

Wait.

I knew this feeling.

I had only seen it in novels and comics...

“No way...”

Without a trace, my consciousness sank into darkness.

“...Country.”

“...”

I heard a voice.

“...Me.”

“...”

My body felt heavy. My head ached.

“Get up!”

“Kuhk!”

With a loud shout, pain suddenly struck my stomach.

I felt the cold floor against my cheek.

When I opened my eyes, a huge boy stood there arrogantly.

“I thought it was some arrogant bastard who appeared to beat someone up, but what is this?”

“...?”

Wait. What’s going on.

Slowly, I sat up.

Through the sunlit glass window, a beautiful medieval corridor, and a sword sheath at my waist.

“...”

I knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this place.

The academy part of Dark Fantasy Saga—the Genua Academy.

And the huge boy staring at me now.

I knew him too.

Benjamin, the third son of a viscount family in the prologue who was about to be expelled for misconduct.

His ending... No. This wasn’t the time.

My head spun until I found an answer.

Familiar.

Yes. This was the prologue.

The tutorial where you learned basic combat and got a taste of what kind of game this was.

It felt like it was telling me to refund now if I could.

But the biggest problem was,

“...”

I turned my gaze behind me.

A woman with large, clear eyes was staring at me.

I knew her.

Lydia Straw.

Saint candidate and one of the main story’s bosses.

And in the prologue timeline, it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one year before the main story.

“...Oh no.”

“What did you say?”

The boy furrowed his brows at my mutter.

I turned my head to look at him, then at the window.

A sky so clear it hurt the eyes, and the boy’s face—completely clueless.

Black hair. Red eyes.

Even in a fantasy world, he was beautiful.

I knew that face. No, I knew it too well.

The countless times I had replayed the game and seen it.

Aiden Starfive.

The protagonist of the prologue of this game.

Wait.

Prologue protagonist...

Wait, what was this...

Before I could even understand the situation,

The air grew heavy.

The atmosphere around me changed.

Even though it was coming from me, I could feel it.

It felt like something bizarre was wrapped around me.

I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

“...What?”

The boy staring at me froze.

What the hell was happening? I wanted to know too.

Since it was dangerous, I raised a hand to stop him from approaching.

Wait, don’t come closer.

“If you move, I’ll kill you.”

...Huh?

“What the hell did you say?”

As if my words had scratched his teenage pride, he raised one eyebrow.

The boy approached me.

“Even though you got beaten up just now, what did you say?”

No, I told you not to come.

“Isn’t my words reasonable? I said I would kill you.”

No. What? I never said that.

The moment he heard me, his face flushed red with rage.

“This bastard...!”

He swung his fist at me.

I hadn’t thrown a punch since elementary school.

With eyes tightly shut, I instinctively pulled back and grabbed something to swing.

What I grabbed was the sword sheath on my waist.

“Ugh!”

With a strange sound, I swung the sheath while closing my eyes and shouting not to come—

Cursed Swordsmanship activated!

A semi-transparent window floated before my eyes again.

The so-called status window.

—Whoosh!!!

The wind howled.

No, a storm raged.

A fierce gale tore through the air. Luckily, my hand slipped and the wind passed barely by the boy, slamming into the corridor wall.

At the same time—

—Crash! Crash!!!

With enormous noise, the glass window shattered.

Screams echoed from far away. The girl behind me covered her ears and screamed, curling into a ball.

Some people collapsed on the floor, others clung to the walls.

After the wind had torn everything apart, a cool spring breeze blew through the ruined corridor and the broken windows.

I alone stood in the middle of the corridor.

“...”

I looked down at the sheath in my hand.

I knew this technique.

The basic skill of Cursed Swordsmanship—Gale.

...The boss used it the most as a stalling move. What was this?

When I turned my gaze, the boy had already fallen to the floor.

He was dead.

I hurriedly rushed toward him when—

“...”

The status window appeared again before my eyes.

I stopped, feeling a dull ache in my wrist, and clenched and unclenched my fist.

It felt like it had been lightly squeezed.

No, this wasn’t the time.

I had to ask if he was okay. Were there no injuries?

If he suddenly exploded with a negative trait, I would be the only one in trouble.

I opened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my mouth.

Are you okay?

“You piece of trash.”

I hadn’t said that.

The boy looked up at me after hearing my words.

Our gazes met in the air.

Apologize.

“Then it’s no wonder your family abandoned you. You idiot. Your parents must feel so sorry.”

Benjamin froze at my words.

Of course I was frozen too.

“...Hiiik...”

And behind him, the girl was sobbing and wailing like she was screaming.

Please don’t make the situation worse.

“Shut up.”

“Yes!”

No, I hadn’t said it that harshly.