The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]

A storm signal warning would’ve been nice.

But disasters—like crystal quakes and family reunions—always had a way of surprising you.

Like a flying sucker punch.

Because that was exactly what came crashing outside the front door of DG’s modest little guild base that morning: a giant green fist aimed squarely at Princess Kira’s face.

BAM!

The entire building shuddered, the front wall creaking ominously as the Princess ducked and countered with her own strike, the air rippling from the impact.

There was a beat of stunned silence from everyone else.

”...”

Luca blinked sleepily from where he stood, utterly confused. Why were they under attack this early in the morning?!

He was already on his feet, a sphere of defensive spiritual energy forming instinctively at his palm, ready to intercept.

But just as he stepped forward, Xavier’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder, stopping him.

”It’s their custom,” Xavier murmured, calm as ever. It’s also why he temporarily took care of the security alert that their fighting triggered.

Luca froze, golden eyes wide.

”???”

”Custom?”

Apparently so.

Because far from being offended, Princess Kira met her father’s sudden attack head-on with a grin that was half feral and half delighted, her own punch colliding with his in an explosion of spiritual force.

They were outside, but Luca was sure that the windows rattled. And if the floors hadn’t cracked, they were probably about to.

BAM!

And then again.

WHAM!

The two orcs darted around each other in a vicious, elegant dance of close combat, throwing punches and kicks, and exchanging strikes that made the air sing. It was fast, brutal, and—according to Xavier—completely normal.

For them, this was a greeting.

But Luca couldn’t sit still. His fingers twitched as Kira ducked under her father’s massive sweep and prepared to send him flying. And if the alarmed guild leader was right, the Orc King was going to land smack against the support beam that held up their roof.

Nope.

Not today!

Luca may have been learning to respect other cultures, but he also respected the money they’d spent to build this place.

So, with a quiet sigh, the guild leader raised his hands and cast a spiritual shield around the small shack. The barrier thrummed faintly, protecting the guild base as the two orcs continued to happily try to flatten each other.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed.

The Orc King—between blocking one of Kira’s elbow strikes and countering with a knee—glanced out of the corner of his eye, catching sight of the faint golden glow of Luca’s barrier.

His first thought was dismissive: a little creature, a nervous bystander, who, like most humans, was unfamiliar with their customs.

But then his brow furrowed as he realized...no. Not quite.

That wasn’t just some small shield for himself but for the entire place.

Huh, he thought mid-punch. This one’s interesting.

However, this was not the time to get distracted. His priority was his daughter, his grieving and probably insulted daughter, who surely must have been crushed by now.

Except she did not look even remotely despondent.

He had never been much good at reading expressions, nor had he ever cared to try, but if there was one thing everyone in their tribe could recognize, it was Kira’s dead-to-the-universe look.

And this was not it.

The father, who had arrived fully prepared to storm the Academy, drag his daughter back to the capital, and make sure their demands were heard loud and clear, found himself completely at a loss once their little sparring match came to an end.

In fact, Princess Kira looked...different. Taller, she had grown both horizontally and vertically since the last time he’d seen her. And if his trained eyes weren’t mistaken, her muscles had filled out, too. More pronounced. Proper.

Good, thought King Garick. She’s training well, then.

But more than that, she was...sparkling?

”?”

Not in the ”only a father could find her cute” kind of way, no. That’s not it. No, this was closer to...silverware.

Yes.

She was shining like she’d been polished daily by some very obsessive butler. All edges gleaming.

Hmm. Not bad. But highly unusual.

That first kick she threw at him packed a lot more bite than he’d expected, too. His knee had almost buckled, and he was King Garick. Had he not been as strong as he was, he would have knelt.

Interesting, he thought, flexing his thigh subtly to check for bruising.

But that wasn’t the only thing that caught his attention.

That little shack they were standing in front of really was as dilapidated as it looked on the news feeds. Actually, it might have been worse now that he was seeing it in person. Because now he could clearly see just how they were planning on entering the small door. Then there was the barely-there roof and the peeling paint.

And yet...

His daughter stood at the entrance, arms crossed, telling them—telling him, the King—to wait their turn if they wanted in.

Rules were rules, she’d said.

Rules.

The Orc King had thought at first that it was her way of teasing him. But no. She’d been dead serious. Even when his aide quietly begged for leniency, she waved him off with a sharp glare.

They were being treated the same way as every other noble lining up down the street.

What the hell is going on here?

His eyes narrowed as he watched.

Those nobles in line? They weren’t complaining. In fact, most of them looked downright cheerful as they waved and greeted Kira and her aide, Ada. Laughing. Smiling. Like standing outside a shack was the height of luxury.

What is happening here? he thought again.

A whole lot, apparently.

When Kira asked them bluntly what they were doing here so early—when it was clear the place hadn’t even officially opened yet—Garick had to discreetly elbow his aide to shut him up before he blurted out the truth:

That they’d actually been around Planet Nova since midnight.

They’d come prepared to storm their way straight into whatever school or building Kira had holed herself up in. But what they hadn’t expected was... this.

Waiting. A whole lot of it.

When they learned that every noble with a membership was standing in line at this very guild’s base, they decided to see for themselves what kind of place his daughter had gotten herself involved with.

And, of course, they thought they’d just bypass the wait with one of the elite passes reserved for dignitaries.

And they should have.

But apparently, no one had sent them the memo that literally every other elite noble already had the same idea and the same expedited pass. Which meant that while it hadn’t taken them all day, it still took them a solid few hours just to clear the line.

Hmph. Poor planning, he told himself gruffly. But even so...he’d been curious enough to stay.

And now here he was, face-to-face with his daughter this early, while she scolded him like some unruly customer and pointed to the sign reading: No exceptions. No cutting in line.

She’s even awake this early? He thought. That alone felt like a miracle.

He glanced at his aide just as the burly orc nearly stumbled in surprise when another door opened from within, revealing more activity than he could have imagined.

Garick himself almost choked on his next breath when he caught the smell of something good coming from inside.

He didn’t say it out loud, of course.

But in his mind...

No wonder that scrawny little kid was shielding the place so desperately.

Because as the clearly out-of-place double door swung open and he caught sight of what lay beyond, his breath hitched ever so slightly.

The real interior was nothing like the shabby little shack it appeared to be from the outside.

The air inside was thick with spiritual energy, the kind that felt questionable even for those who still claimed to live in thriving lands.

His aide’s reaction was something he inwardly shared because it now seemed like they couldn’t claim that for themselves anymore.

The demarcation was clear; the moment they crossed inside, the stuffy exterior gave way to a landscape so lush it was hard to believe he wasn’t hallucinating it.

It was like stepping into another dimension entirely.

And if this place were his, he thought grimly, he wouldn’t want anyone barging in.

And yet here it was, wide open to people and creatures alike. Nobles, commoners, workers, and yes, beasts.

In fact, apparently, the place had been created for them.

Actual beasts lounged in the grass as if they owned it, tails flicking lazily, coats gleaming, clearly better cared for and better fed than most of the galaxy, including himself.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he took it all in, his gaze sweeping over the surreal, impossible scene before him.

Hmm.

Maybe there’s a lot more to this place than I thought.

And more importantly, maybe his daughter was up to much more than he assumed