The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 475: Together

To the absolute horror of everyone else—especially the unfortunate instructors of the sophomore division—what had been designed as a well-balanced, controlled examination swiftly and violently descended into complete and utter pandemonium.

Simulated beasts poured out of every artificial crack, crevice, and rockfall, launching themselves towards the nearest mechas.

The crowd outside couldn’t hear the students inside, but judging by the frantically waving arms, slamming fists, and a few mechas doing suspicious jumps, they were definitely screaming in their cockpits.

Durability alerts blared, and somewhere in the control room, a technician shook in horror as the monitors showed everything they prepared spawning in one go.

Meanwhile, inside the arena, the chaos was both a disaster and a divine gift depending on who you asked.

The upperclassmen, previously smug and leisurely ambushing freshmen, were now too busy not dying to guard tokens or enforce exam rules. And the freshmen, who needed only one token and the finish line to pass, were suddenly having the time of their lives.

Well, mostly.

Because a few bad eggs lost their hard-earned tokens after Noah decided to take them nonetheless.

Technically, the rules never said they couldn’t take someone else’s tokens, and while he never thought of doing something like this before, getting thrown to the beasts as a scapegoat would change a man.

So, now armed with more tokens than required, what was left was getting to the finish line.

It was a rather simple task. However, the spectators could clearly see how the students chose to react to the crisis, especially after several events unfolded following Luca’s stunt.

First, the sophomores tried to block Luca’s shortcut because this was a direct counter to their requirement to pass. But that didn’t end well. For not only did they not need to do this, but it also resulted in eliminations as the beasts practically gathered there.

Second, the freshmen who had been scared of direct confrontation learned to wait to ambush those heavily damaged sophomore mechas for their tokens.

And lastly, those from Luca’s section, who were practically veterans of explosions and near-death experiences, decided to use their brains before moving.

And that was how those lucky few, including Noah, decided to take advantage of Luca’s funnel by sprinting around the periphery where the coast would have to be clear.

The results were tragic. Well, tragic for so many people. But the same couldn’t be said for Luca, who joyously and casually crossed the finish line in 9 minutes and 57 seconds with his 10 tokens.

A beautiful result.

One that Luca stared at after he dismounted from the mecha.

"Host," D-29 piped up, launching virtual poppers to celebrate. "Congratulations on your success! Finish time: 9 minutes and 57 seconds. Placement: second."

Luca paused, eyes slowly blinking at the display.

And then his hands immediately flew up to cover his mouth. Because right there, at the very top of the leaderboard, Xavier Montclair and Luca Kyros were ranked right next to each other.

Wow.

It looked so nice.

Luca fiddled with his terminal, snapped a discreet photo of the display, and prepared to send it to Xavier, who probably hadn’t seen his match since he’d left right after his own.

Only—

Ping!

Luca blinked. A message? ƒгeewebnovёl_com

[XAVIER: You did really well. I saw. Clever of you to figure out the secret of those specialized weapons so quickly. I’m proud of you.]

Luca promptly turned into steam.

His ears flushed red. His brain short-circuited. His heart? It did a small, inappropriate wiggle.

But he still sent the photo he was going to send anyway.

[LUCA: Look, our names are next to each other.]

[XAVIER: As it should be. Together.]

Luca combusted.

He didn’t even notice that he made a little sound until someone near him jumped.

And just as he was about to slide into a daydream—

Ping!

Another message.

[XAVIER: Also, in case you were wondering, the simulated arena’s structural integrity is isolated from the real-world arena. So even with all that...flair, no permanent damage to the Academy’s equipment. No fines.]

Luca froze.

Oh.

OH!

"...I forgot about that!!!"

The excited pilot really did, overtaken by the joy of finishing his exam early and seeing his name so close to Xavier’s.

So only now did he raise his head to check what had happened with the exam. And because of that, it was only now that he realized that everyone around him had gone very quiet.

Spectators, students, instructors, technicians, and well, even the security personnel looked at him.

Luca smiled nervously. He gave a tiny wave before running towards the registration booth.

But Luca wasn’t the only one suffering. Far from it.

Instructor Falco, usually the proud homeroom teacher of the infamously cursed freshman Section A, was standing on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

His students had performed well. Too well.

He should be thrilled.

But no, he was sweating bullets, because across the room, the instructors of the sophomore division were glaring at him like he’d planned all of this.

He didn’t. He really didn’t!

It was not his fault they were gifted!

But thankfully, all hope was not lost for the Royal Military Academy when it came to explaining this quarter’s results to expecting parents.

Because while the people in the arena trembled in fear, something truly miraculous was happening in the mecha manufacturing testing area.

A quiet victory. A mechanical masterpiece. All courtesy of a certain blonde mechanic whose name a few instructors were now discreetly suggesting be engraved on a golden plate.

In the stillness of the engineering bay, Ollie adjusted his goggles, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stared down at the battered mecha assigned to him for the exam.

While the parts weren’t outdated for the people of today, it felt that way to Ollie, who had been thrust into learning more advanced mechas.

But Ollie just smiled.

Today, his job was to make this mecha shine like a star.

So what followed wasn’t just a repair. It was resurrection.

Calibration. Realignment. Fiber threading. Neural line tuning. Resonant frequency harmonization. He didn’t just fix the mecha—he understood it. Spoke to it. Whispered promises of second chances and sleek performance curves.

And well, a threat of a change in paint job, which thankfully he didn’t have time to do.

Phew.

It was just that when Ollie finally raised his hand for inspection, a certain someone had opinions she couldn’t help but voice out.

Because Lyka saw all those expensive materials she couldn’t even really recognize, but realized that Ollie didn’t use them.

"Showoff. He’s not even gonna use half of that." She said, snorting as she crossed her arms.

"?"

"What? You didn’t even touch them. You just displayed them and chose other materials instead. I bet the ones you used aren’t as expensive, too."

But Ollie, who puffed his cheeks, decided to channel his good brother and his teachings instead of going there and feeding her a wrench.

So he waited for the final test and results.

The repaired mecha activated with a purr smoother than anything the examiners had heard in a while. It moved like it belonged on the field—graceful, precise, fluid.

And the soldier who owned the mecha felt like he needed to pay for this kind of repair. Because by the end of the evaluation, Ollie’s mecha had surpassed all projected benchmarks. Speed. Balance. Energy output.

It was better than when it was first bought.

The room was silent.

Until the grading panel announced his score.

Perfect.

Lyka’s jaw dropped.

"What the—?"

"Lady Vela, it’s not about the grade of the material," he said smoothly, "it’s about compatibility."

Lyka sputtered. "That’s—!"

"Also," Ollie added, winking, "while I do love money, sometimes the best isn’t always the flashiest."

Follow current novels on freewe(b)novel.c(o)m