The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 473: A Strategy?

Maybe the simulated enemies were really made of foam, thought many of the students and even the technicians who generated the models.

But if that were true, then how come everyone else was stuck facing beasts that felt like metal monstrosities and reinforced boulders? Because the struggle was very real.

It was Luca’s first time seeing an exam like this—and the first time they would use the largest, most state-of-the-art training arena in the Academy.

This was a division-wide test, and it showed.

The freshmen were pitted against sophomores in a high-stakes arena, surrounded by simulated beasts, spiritual pressure fields, and debris meant to emulate a real battlefield.

A hundred freshmen versus a hundred sophomores per batch for a total of five batches.

To pass, freshmen had to reach the finish line and steal one of the sophomores’ three combat tokens on the way there.

For sophomores, passing meant keeping at least one token and surviving as long as possible, where their final grade would be calculated by the total amount of time they were able to stall the first-year cadets.

It was brutal.

On top of that, each mecha began with 100% durability. Once a sophomore took 30% damage, one token would become retrievable. And that matters because at any mecha that hits 10% remaining durability, would be forcibly removed from the match.

And as the exams began, most freshmen looked like they were preparing to write their wills.

But not all.

Because in the very first batch, three times were recorded that were so shockingly short the technicians thought the system had glitched.

The light mecha passed in 9 minutes while earning 27 Tokens.

The medium in 13 with 9 Tokens.

The heavy in 15 with 3 Tokens.

Obviously, there were seconds that followed those numbers, and the data were all displayed, but people weren’t able to make sense of them. No one could really explain how that was possible, not even when they all watched the same footage.

The simulated beasts that would normally chip away at 1–5% durability barely grazed those monsters, if at all. The trio didn’t dodge so much as charge, cutting a warpath that defied every predictive model.

Technicians ran diagnostics multiple times, convinced there had to be an error in the simulation—until they watched other students struggle miserably. Nope. The code was fine. It was the monsters who weren’t.

At least the simulated beasts weren’t sentient—they didn’t have pride, dignity, or grades on the line. But the same couldn’t be said for the poor sophomores, who were just trying to pass a required course and got caught in a blitzkrieg they didn’t sign up for!

It was a nightmare. Less of a dine and dash and more daylight robbery. Some didn’t even get a chance to shout "Incoming!" before those three tore past them, while damaging their mechas and snatching those supposed treasured tokens.

The devastated sophomores inside the arena were baffled.

But outside, the other students saw how despicable that trap looked.

If only it were intentional. But it wasn’t.

For the three wouldn’t need such a strategy for a test like this.

No formations. No signals. No coordination.

They just...fought.

It was instinctual. Raw. The kind of chaos you could only get from three people who were simply too used to charging into danger without asking permission.

And somehow, that was the problem. Luca thought as he confirmed the movements of the mechas with D-29.

Xavier, flying like a missile in his light mecha, had unintentionally become an effective bait. His speed, his confidence—his sheer aggression—drew attention like a beacon.

The sophomores couldn’t help it.

They saw a fast-moving blip on their radars and chased like moths to a flame. And who could fault them? For they thought it was simply a mecha that used speed to evade everyone. What’s more, if they get to corner a freshman this early, then won’t that start their timers as early as possible? So everyone who saw him went after him.

Which inevitably cleared a path for Kyle.

Because while everyone and their stress responses were too busy trying to clip Xavier’s wings, Kyle’s medium-class mecha had a surprisingly empty lane.

And Jax? That man must have kissed a cosmic lucky star. He only encountered three opponents, and they were all heavy mechas like him. And Jax had a leisurely time pummeling them.

Yes, leisurely.

He brawled his way through with such raw force that it looked like the footage was glitching. And by the time he crossed the finish line, one of the proctors had to look for others. They had to figure out how to deal with this. Stat.

Fifteen minutes.

It shouldn’t have been possible.

But it was.

And Luca was all for it, watching with bright and appreciative eyes as he learned about their methods.

Such efficiency!

But while Luca admired the elegance of it all, his classmates started... looking at him.

Side-eyes. Nervous glances. A few people were visibly scooting away.

He didn’t understand and couldn’t really concern himself with it. After all, how was he supposed to know that they were wondering why the other monster didn’t just take the test with that batch?

But who would’ve thought they’d thank him in the end, for the golden-eyed cadet fell in love with efficiency that day and practically vowed to add it to his name!

And when his batch was called, what followed was not so much an exam as it was an accidental product demonstration. His C-rank mecha, equipped with nothing too flashy, ended up working in his favor.

The sophomores—having seen the way the first batch was obliterated—adjusted their approach. They decided to do better. Be smarter. More strategic.

Step one? Avoid the A and S-ranked mechas.

Step two? Target only the weaker ones. The B and C classes. The ones that looked like safer bets. The more "normal" ones.

And that was their first mistake.

Because no one reminded them that another beast piloted that one particular C-class mecha. And what do you do when the mechas look the same for each rank? How were they supposed to know they needed to avoid this one?

Well, they didn’t, and it was one hell of a price to pay.

One such student was Sophomore Pete, who was one of seven who thought it was their lucky day today, immediately spotting a lone C-class mecha right when the exam started.

Only, the medium mecha in front of them didn’t run back to hide as expected.

Instead, it charged.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on fre𝒆web(n)ovel.co(m)