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

Not that it was impossible, but it definitely wouldn’t be good for anyone to keep fighting next to severed tentacles.

”Huh?”

The confused looks were understandable. Even Luca had a lot of questions, so he said he’d try to explain as best as he could.

After all, there was at least some good news.

Yes, somehow, against all odds, there were a few positives.

Like how the tentacles themselves weren’t dripping with corruption. And then there was that interesting little discovery—apparently, the monster could recognize its own tentacle. Meaning it might be used as a last-ditch shield.

The golden-eyed heir explained this with so much enthusiasm and sincerity that the older soldiers didn’t have the heart to mention that no one in their right mind would be able to drag around a giant, venomous tentacle the size of a transport ship for protection.

For one, there were stingers everywhere.

For another, how in the galaxy did that child even manage to carry those things around in the first place?

Just what kind of space button did he have? How many such space buttons could they possibly own?

A lot, if they asked a certain blonde mop whose careful inventory could make other hoarders cry. But to be fair, this time they were using the dungeon inventory.

But of course, none of the Imperial soldiers would know about that.

Because the little money grubber had been considerate about the kind of news he’d mention. He even elected not to say that his favorite news was how the single opening would likely spew out more corruption.

Apparently, one should not be happy about that. So he just warned them to watch out for potential projectiles.

But sure enough, everyone was still confused. The explanation did nothing to clarify the issue about the severed tentacles.

So Luca decided to talk about the bad news.

”Aside from the characteristics discussed earlier,” he said, raising three fingers, ”I think there are three main things we need to be concerned about—Regeneration, Regrowth, and Reproduction.”

The way he said it was so calm, as if behind them, the ginormous monster wasn’t making moves that had many of the soldiers sweating.

”Regeneration is probably the most obvious,” Luca continued. ”I think you’ve all seen it to a degree. The regeneration speed is fast enough to invalidate any cuts or hits.”

The soldiers exchanged grim looks. They had even been wondering about that since the first time they heard about this regeneration.

Was there a limit to what it could regenerate? But now that the cadet said they couldn’t carelessly leave out tentacles, how would they find out?

However, apparently, there were other, more complicated issues.

”Then there’s regrowth,” Luca went on. ”Instead of just healing a damaged tentacle, the monster can grow entirely new ones depending on how much surplus food it has.”

”!!!”

That got everyone looking at each other.

Because that was like saying Ollie could suddenly grow extra arms.

Duchess Amelia could already feel a headache forming, while the rest of the soldiers wore matching looks of despair.

Lieutenant Sera finally spoke up, her voice uncertain. ”Cadet Kyros, do you think it’s moving toward the coast because it’s hungry? Or maybe it wants to grow bigger and stronger, so it’s looking for more food?”

Luca paused, thinking, then sighed. ”Hmm, I’m not entirely sure, Lieutenant. But that could be part of it.”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully before saying, ”Sea anemones usually release excess food or waste through a single opening. And earlier, we did see it spewing something out.”

Everyone remembered that scene very clearly. Unfortunately.

”Then,” Nia asked, ”if it’s not hungry, why else would it come out of the water? It’s supposed to be an aquatic creature, right?”

Luca tilted his head. ”Uhm... It’s just a guess, but maybe it’s moving because it’s starting to get a little too crowded down there.”

The Duchess blinked. ”Son, what do you mean by crowded?”

”Well, Mom, you see... the last trait I mentioned? It’s Reproduction. Some anemones move when they feel threatened or crowded.”

”Threatened?!” Nia nearly shouted. ”What could possibly threaten that thing?!”

”In this case,” Luca said seriously, ”probably another anemone.”

”???”

The silence that followed was the stunned kind—the kind that made several people consider their career choices or last wills.

Luca continued calmly, ”Because they can reproduce both asexually and sexually. They can split in half, bud, or even create clones from detached pedal discs.”

He looked around innocently. ”So... we might have to check the waters.”

”Oh god,” muttered someone near the back.

Jax ran a hand down his face. ”Yeah,” he said flatly. ”I was afraid you’d say that.”

But at least underwater, the Captain’s cannon wouldn’t work, right?

Right?

Thankfully, Jax didn’t find out right away.

Although maybe—just maybe—it would’ve been better to test out firearms underwater than to get extremely up close and personal with the digestive cavity of one mutated monster!

Because really, how did things even end up like this?!

One very distressed little chipmunk would like to declare, for the record, that this was not intentional.

Absolutely not.

At best, what was intentional was for him to explore the sacred place alone.

But what could they do when everything just happened to line up in the most (un)fortunate, horrifyingly (perfectly) logical way possible?!

The same little chipmunk would also like to inform everyone—especially the ones currently praying for their souls—that the food he prepared earlier for dinner was not meant to be their last supper.

Yet here they were, staring into what could only be described as the stomach entrance of an oversized, corrupted sea anemone.

And all because someone, who could not be named, thought he spotted something glittering somewhere suspiciously close to the seabed.

A crystal core.

A big one.

So really, how could he, heir of House Kyros and dutiful owner of a dungeon, ignore that kind of call?

So of course, he (they) went.

Because when opportunity calls, apparently from the bottom of a monster’s digestive tract, you answer.

With your friends.

Oh, and maybe with your dad, too.