“Well, I won’t deny her beauty, squawk.”

As if acknowledging Koko’s remark, Rosha swiftly approached Froy.

Since he was on the third floor, magic was required. While she typically avoided flight due to its excessive mana consumption, an exception could be made here.

“My apologies. It seems I cannot leave until you arrive.”

Froy, pacing the terrace in an elegant ensemble, continued with a flustered air:

“I look rather strange, don’t I?”

“Huh?”

Having just landed on the terrace, Rosha responded a beat late.

‘Up close, I couldn’t help but think that truly beautiful people remain beautiful no matter what they do.’

With Froy’s slender, delicate features rather than a muscular, chiseled physique, the long tresses suited him unexpectedly well.

If his current visage was deemed strange, then most men casually walking the streets would qualify as unsightly brutes.

Yet before Rosha could voice her disagreement, a notification chimed in her ear:

-Delivering lines befitting the setting increases the chances of a successful performance.

Immediately reciting the most plausible line that sprang to mind, she remarked:

“No, you’re so breathtakingly beautiful that my eyes could go blind.”

“…”

“Are you perhaps from heaven?”

“…Please.”

Seemingly flustered by the compliment, Froy swiftly turned his head.

From the corner of her eye, Koko appeared to be mumbling something about palpable awkwardness, but Rosha considered such dramatic license permissible to a certain extent.

It was at that precise moment:

Thump, thump, thump.

Glancing back at the gradually intensifying sounds, an monstrously oversized beast was approaching, dwarfing its lesser brethren.

Resembling a muscular, bipedal boar with a monstrous head, its sheer bulk was such that it towered nearly level with the third-floor terrace.

“Hmm, seems like the climax of Act 1, squawk.”

Confirming the weapon in its grasp, Froy shook his head grimly, his expression taut with caution.

“Be careful, Rosha.”

Evidently, his role as the female lead restricted him to remaining behind. Yet such a lumbering, mammoth entity was relatively straightforward to handle.

‘I’ve faced many similar adversaries before.’

Fwoosh- Its weapon arced upwards, poised to demolish the entire terrace.

However, an ominous sound preceded its strike:

Kwaziik!

A magician’s advantage lay in dispatching foes without shedding blood personally.

A fiery spear plummeted from the heavens, instantly impaling the beast’s skull.

Having closed to point-blank range, the monster collapsed lifelessly onto the courtyard without ever unleashing its full force.

Curiously, the impalement site had been pixelated into a mosaic.

‘Likely due to the 15 age rating – excessive gore would raise objections.’

After briefly regarding the monster’s remains, Rosha turned her attention to Froy.

Having braved all adversities to reach the female lead, it was now time for them to depart together.

Extending her hand towards one of the few genuine individuals within this artificially constructed realm, she addressed him:

“Shall we go, then?”

Act 1 has concluded.

Act 2 will commence in 3 minutes.

During the intermission, the previously cacophonous surroundings fell eerily silent, accompanied by a blue window.

Leaning against the terrace railing, Froy and Rosha observed the motionless, monochrome stage.

Witnessing this world where all movement had frozen except for a few individuals, one truly grasped the nature of this trial.

‘…The censored scenes imply that the architect behind this trial is observing.’

What could their intent be?

While she harbored certain suspicions, hasty conclusions would be unwise.

For now, the sole goal was to proceed and successfully conclude the performance.

“With this considerable leeway, carefully crafting our character backgrounds aligned with the central theme seems advisable.”

Froy remarked, his gaze fixed upon the pixelated remains as he continued.

An orphaned, sickly yet prodigious male magician lead, and a female lead whose family opposed her courtship until perishing at the hands of monsters, leaving her alone. Something along those lines.

With those concise additions, the previously one-dimensional leads instantly acquired considerably more depth and plausibility.

“Does this suffice?”

“It’s better than nothing. We really should have discussed and established the premise before entering.”

“Still, you handled the final scene of Act 1 admirably. The ‘heaven’ line was a tad disconcerting initially, but… you made an effort, at least.”

“Why? I was being sincere. Didn’t you think it worked decently enough?”

“…”

Had a blue window not manifested at that opportune moment, signaling Act 2’s imminent commencement, they would have been in trouble.

The second act was quite predictable.

Act 2: Enact the male lead’s attempt to escape the city alongside the female lead.

Slaying demonic beasts while advancing. This had been Rosha’s area of expertise for the past 18 years, rendered effortlessly smooth thanks to her companions’ support in difficulty adjustment.

The only minor hiccup lay in Act 3, where Cassis made an appearance as both the sub-male lead and the antagonist…

“Hey, why do I have to fight you over this chick? I’m feeling incredibly emasculated here.”

After perfunctorily exchanging a few blows, Cassis discarded his sword and retreated in a huff.

This scenario was only possible due to Act 3’s vague objective of ‘overcoming the sub-male lead’, allowing for such an interpretation.

“…This setup is utter madness.”

Froy murmured quietly as Lysithea, portraying one of Cassis’ subordinate, gave them a thumbs-up before fleeing.

But what choice did they have?

Ensuring a successful performance necessitated acquiescence, no matter how ludicrous.

A minor consolation lay in the play’s relative brevity, spanning only four acts.

Moreover, they had discovered a rather suspicious location midway.

‘That fortress… what could its purpose be?’

An immense mana concentration emanated from the modest fortress’ spire at the city’s westernmost edge.

While already substantial upon initial detection, it had now intensified to potentially obliterate an entire city.

‘Not that we can investigate it presently.’

In fact, the moment Rosha had sensed the fortress’ existence and attempted to divert their course, she received this warning before taking more than a few steps:

-Warning for conduct deviating from the premise. 3 cumulative warnings result in performance failure.

Granted, since the city’s western limits bordered a cliff, their escape route inevitably led eastward.

It was at that very juncture that Froy’s gentle murmur reached her ears:

“Let’s focus and get this over with quickly, so we can leave.”

They now stood atop a gently sloping knoll beyond the city’s outskirts.

Whether by dramatic license or not, not a single monster was present, affording an unobstructed vista overlooking the cityscape below – a picturesque stage set, as if to adorn the climactic scene of a romance.

As one might have surmised by now, the final scene culminated in a passionate kiss between the two leads.

“…How are we supposed to conclude it here?”

“Who knows? The progression has already devolved into utter absurdity, so what are the chances of a coherent conclusion?”

He seemed to harbor no expectations for the play itself, his mind occupied by… the impending kiss, it would seem.

“…I hadn’t anticipated this development.”

“Froy, is this your first time?”

He had opened his mouth to respond, yet fell silent with apparent tension as Rosha brushed aside his lengthy tresses.

His Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as his luminous violet irises disappeared beneath flickering lids. Gradually rising onto her tiptoes, she simultaneously raised a hand to partially shield her lips.

‘It’s merely a pretense, after all.’

Certainly, throughout her combined 35-year lifespan, she hadn’t been entirely inexperienced in such matters.

However, those instances stemmed from earnest attempts at forging connections amidst the desolation of being stranded in an unfamiliar world, never evoking the fluttering sensation she currently felt.

‘…Tasking such stern individuals with a mere stage kiss, honestly.’

Undoubtedly, the act was an unavoidable necessity imposed by the trial’s circumstances. Still, an inexplicable restlessness stirred within her heart.

Not an unpleasant or emotionally tumultuous feeling.

Closer, perhaps, to a giddy anticipation.

As Rosha encircled the nape of his neck with her hand, his thick, lush eyelashes quivered ever so faintly. And then…

Their lips met, brushing ever so delicately.

The play ‘The Perishing City’ will conclude shortly.

Having fulfilled all conditions, a brilliant radiance akin to the sun burst forth from the western fortress, enveloping the entire city.

The intensity was so blinding that squinting proved insufficient.

‘…Nothing has truly been resolved, so how can this constitute a happy ending?’

Even as bewilderment pierced through Rosha’s previously tranquil reverie, her vision whites out, just as before.