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

He took a seat beside Ollie, only to notice how grim some of the expressions were. Marquis Mylor, in particular, looked like a man holding back the urge to sigh himself into the afterlife.

Finally, the Marquis cleared his throat and handed over a large, folded parchment. ”You should read this. It’s King Garick’s letter.”

Luca accepted the thick parchment reverently—it was enormous, far larger than standard correspondence, and smelled faintly of smoke and ink. The handwriting was bold, sprawling, and slightly chaotic, but legible enough to read aloud.

He unfolded it carefully and began:

”To those who sent this fine invitation: it has arrived too late. Even if I wished to attend, the time between now and your event is not enough for our ships to cross the void.”

”Nor is it enough time to prepare gifts and tributes. You should send such things earlier if you want guests like me to attend.”

”In the spirit of goodwill, I have sent something in my place. Next time, remember the Orcs better, and send your invitations in a timely manner.”

The letter ended abruptly, as though the King had run out of parchment or patience.

Luca blinked. ”Oh. That’s... very much like King Garick.”

It was then that he noticed something at the bottom of the page. A mark burned into the parchment itself, very much unlike the seal carved in gold and crimson wax.

It depicted a roaring beast’s head encircled by crossed axes and a crown made of tusks—or at least, that was what everyone assumed it was supposed to be.

Luca squinted at the design and tilted the parchment slightly toward the light. The intricate lines glimmered faintly, the strokes uneven but oddly confident. Then, as if struck by realization, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small card from his collection.

He held them side by side, eyes bright. ”It’s really King Garick’s symbol! It matches perfectly!”

From the side, Duke Leander leaned forward, studying the mark with a skeptical frown. ”An intricate-looking beast,” he said approvingly, nodding like a connoisseur of art.

”Beast?” Luca blinked, utterly confused. ”But Papa, isn’t that King Garick?”

Leander paused. ”...King Garick???”

The father and son stared at each other, both looking lost.

And then Princess Kira gasped so loudly that everyone jumped. ”Huh? That’s the drawing I made of my father!” she exclaimed proudly, pointing at the parchment.

”Ah, I thought so too!” Luca said, lighting up immediately, completely sincere.

A stunned silence fell over the room.

The others stared at the so-called secret symbol, now realizing that the roaring beast’s head was, in fact, the orc princess’s personal doodle of her dad. The crown of tusks was lopsided, one of the axes looked suspiciously like a fork, and the ”ferocious eyes” might have been buttons.

Princess Kira beamed, Luca nodded in admiration, and everyone else looked between the two with the silent, shared thought—

How in Solaris did that look even remotely like King Garick?

However, if they were to ignore the symbol itself, they would be left with an official correspondence from someone they hadn’t heard from in a while.

”But why send it this way?” Ollie wondered aloud. ”And what’s this about a gift?”

Marquis Mylor nodded to his wife, who stepped forward and placed a small ornate box on the table. ”That’s what we were trying to figure out. Normally, this kind of letter implies a sort of small bribe—sending treasures in exchange for early invitations to future events. But considering that Princess Kira can already attend auctions on his behalf, especially when she’s here, this shouldn’t be necessary.”

Marquise Julienne gestured at the box. ”So, we think there’s something here that needs your attention.”

The box itself was about the size of Luca’s palm, carved from dark ironwood and etched with patterns of swirling gold. When he opened it, a soft light spilled out. Inside were gemstones—brilliant, multicolored, and strangely gleaming as bright as the eyes on those sculptures he often saw at the manor.

Luca gingerly picked up a few, turning them in his hand with childlike awe.

”Wow... they’re beautiful.”

But before he could admire them further, Princess Kira suddenly frowned.

”Wait, Luca,” she said quickly.

”Why, what’s wrong?”

Her gaze sharpened as she pointed at one of the stones. ”That red one. It’s not a real gemstone.”

Luca blinked. ”What do you mean?”

”It’s hollow.” Kira stepped forward, eyes narrowing. ”My father told me about them before, when someone tried selling it for a high price.”

She picked up the red gemstone between her fingers. Everyone watched as she tightened her grip—and with one sharp motion, cracked it in half like it was a walnut.

”Ah—!” Luca gasped.

Sure enough, nestled inside the broken core was a tightly rolled piece of parchment.

The room went still.

Oddly enough, when Princess Kira carefully unrolled the small parchment found inside the gemstone, everyone leaned in to see what kind of secret message it contained.

It wasn’t poetic.

It wasn’t even dramatic.

It was... apparently a number.

Well, according to D-29. Because the characters were in a script that most of them didn’t recognize.

But to the little system that had borrowed as many references from, well, everywhere, how could it not recognize that writing?

Not only did D-29 recognize it, but the little system even volunteered to run the call, saying that it would be safer in case someone was set to intercept it.

Nobody argued.

A few seconds later, the screen lit up, flickering with static before stabilizing into an image.

And just like that, an orcish face appeared.

It was not the King.

It was a woman, her features sharp but kind, with braids tied back and tusks polished to a faint gleam.

Before anyone could react, Ada suddenly gasped. ”Mother?!”

”Ada! Oh, thank the stars!” The Orc woman leaned forward, visibly relieved. ”Are you safe? Is everyone safe?”

From the side, Princess Kira stood straighter, her hands clasped tightly. ”Auntie, is my father not there?”

The woman’s expression softened. ”Your Highness! Wait, let me show you this first!”

She lifted a folded piece of cloth toward the screen, revealing the same suspiciously artistic symbol that had caused all the earlier chaos.

”His Majesty said I should show this before anything else,” she said proudly, as though the crude drawing were a sacred royal emblem.

Everyone’s eyes went wide.

So, it really was a message from King Garick.

Luca blinked and gently patted Princess Kira’s arm. ”It’s alright. It must be important. Don’t worry,” he said softly, trying to comfort her even though his own nerves were fraying.

The Orc woman, realizing the concern in their faces, smiled faintly. ”The letter must have reached you later than expected. His Majesty wanted to respond himself, but he had to return to the capital due to the current unrest.”

Unrest.

That single word made the room go quiet.

She continued, voice steady but urgent. ”The civil war is nearing its end. His Majesty has turned the tide, leading warriors who have grown far stronger than before. The rebels tried cutting off our supply routes. It should have starved us, but somehow, the King was prepared.”

Her tone shifted from relief to warning. ”But because of that, the traitors ended up desperate. They’re trying to cause as much damage as possible before they’re wiped out.”

The tension in the room thickened.

Then came the part that made everyone freeze.

”Recently,” she said, her expression darkening, ”we uncovered a plot to create a rift between the Orcs and the Humans. The goal is to isolate the Zulgaras. Since we can’t reach you in time, His Majesty ordered us to inform certain individuals about this plan. The plot aims to destabilize corrupted zones, particularly the human frontlines, while making it appear that King Garick himself ordered the attacks.”

”!!!”

The shock was palpable.

Finally, unable to contain himself, Luca blurted out, ”But how?”

The Orc woman glanced toward Princess Kira, who gave her a silent nod to continue.

”We don’t know the full details,” she said gravely. ”But reports suggest the rebels have been using something strange—something that drives beasts into violent frenzies. And worse, King Garick discovered that someone attempted the unthinkable.”

Her eyes hardened. ”They’ve been experimenting with mutated beast cores, transplanting them into other beasts.”

The silence that followed was shattered by a single horrified voice.

”WHAT?!” Marshal Julian couldn’t help but react, because wasn’t that a clusterfuck?

Oh, it was, because apparently, even they wouldn’t have enough time to respond.