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

In truth, one father would have arrived first if not for being forcibly tied down by semantics and politics.

It was a tragedy.

A completely unnecessary one.

Who in their right mind would want to walk politely alongside foreign delegates, exchanging measured pleasantries and nodding at carefully rehearsed talking points, when he could have gone to see his son’s exhibit right away?!

Duke Leander Kyros had been vibrating with restrained impatience since the moment the Expo gates opened.

Had it been solely up to him, he would have marched straight over and planted himself outside the booth. He would have applauded loudly and would have showered them with a lot of well-deserved praises. He would have made sure everyone within a five kilometer radius knew exactly how great his precious son was.

But unfortunately for him, and for the heads of several other influential families, including one particularly seething Orc King, reality was cruel.

Schedules and optics existed.

And so did political responsibilities that insisted they smile and mingle while their hearts burned elsewhere.

He could’ve simply camped outside the expo from dawn to dusk, standing tall like a personal monument of paternal support.

But according to his wife, that was not acceptable.

”Leander,” Duchess Amelia had said calmly, without even looking up from her terminal, ”you will frighten the attendees.”

”I will not,” he protested immediately.

”You absolutely will,” she replied, tone pleasant but final. ”Your presence alone can make seasoned generals rethink their life choices.”

He didn’t like that, but his wife was adamant.

The aghast father sulked.

And sulked even more.

He sulked while walking.

He sulked while taking a bath.

He sulked while training.

And only managed to recover when his precious son came to him with a very specific invitation for what he called dinner service.

Those two words alone had restored his spirit enough to keep him from openly glaring at foreign dignitaries.

But even so, due to a series of deeply unfortunate events, it was not the high ranking nobles or powerful leaders who arrived first.

It was the unrestricted group.

And maybe they should have all expected it, but the first ones to get there were actually Owen Mylor who came with his friends, followed by the Belgraves and the Emorys.

”!!!”

__

See, as the youngest Mylor who had not yet been shackled by politics, work, or an endless chain of obligations, the giant blond was allowed to run amok with his friends.

It was a privilege.

And Owen Mylor intended to make full use of it.

Was it unfair? Maybe. Probably. But how could anyone reasonably expect him to turn down the greatest fortune of all, namely being related to his brother and by extension his brother-in-law?

Of course he wouldn’t.

Especially not when he had even been allowed to bring his closest friends along.

What Owen didn’t know was that this wasn’t purely familial ties at work. Much like another streamer who had received a personal invitation, he had earned more perks through effort.

That alone had made Kyle suggest extending additional benefits.

So aside from inviting him personally, the adjutant had casually suggested that the kid bring a few friends. It was not as if he had to fix their passes. Making children pay for this would have been absurd. So Kyle simply handled everything without fuss.

And the group of fortunate boys had been ready to charge straight in.

They were stopped only because they overheard several adults speaking anxiously about finding DG’s booth.

At first, Owen assumed they were fans.

Then he listened more closely.

They were invited guests.

Apparently, their sons were members and the invitations had been meant as a surprise. Unfortunately, between the sheer scale of the exhibition grounds and it being their first time attending something like this, they were completely lost.

Owen didn’t even hesitate.

He offered to guide them.

And it turned out to be a very good thing that he did, because somewhere along the way, DG’s exhibition crossed a line from popular to terrifyingly famous.

The shift was sudden and brutal.

The teens—who were normally glued to their terminals—hadn’t had the chance to check their devices today so they didn’t know what was going on.

But they couldn’t help but freeze mid-step when they finally glanced down and realized just how packed every path leading toward the booth had become.

People were pouring in from every direction.

After muttered prayers, a few apologetic shuffles, and at least one near loss of life involving a shoulder bag, they finally reached their destination.

And there it was.

A sea of people.

And standing right at the front, smiling brightly as if this were the most normal thing in the world, was a very cheerful beauty.

Several of Owen’s friends immediately ducked behind his back.

”???”

Before anyone could process what was happening, said beauty jogged over.

He waved, eyes bright, expression open and delighted, as if he had just spotted friends at a festival rather than a mixed crowd of nobles, commoners, and very overwhelmed teenagers.

”You made it!” Luca said happily.

The surrounding crowd slowed.

Then stopped.

Then collectively leaned in, definitely interested in the sudden scene.

Luca’s gaze landed on the familiar elders.

His posture straightened at once.

”Ah,” he said warmly, dipping his head with genuine respect. ”Ma’am, Sir! I’m really glad you could come. The walk here must have been tiring.”

The Belgraves stiffened.

The Emorys nearly short circuited.

Before anyone could react, Luca continued cheerfully, ”Please go ahead inside. Once you reach the reception, you can ask where Theo and Noah are stationed. Though from what I know, they should be at the activity center and the cafe.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then hurried bows.

Thank-yous overlapped.

The elders turned back briefly to Owen and the boys, thanking them profusely for guiding them through the crowd before being ushered forward.

Only then did Luca look back.

He blinked.

Once.

Then again.

His eyes lit up.

”Oh!” he said softly, staring at Owen with open curiosity. ”You shine very brightly.”

The giant teen froze.

Luca’s face broke into an even wider smile.

”You look like my good brother, Ollie!” he exclaimed, immediately fussing in excitement. He leaned left, then right, peering around Owen’s broad frame. ”Hello! Hello!”

Every teen hiding behind Owen stiffened.

They waved.

Awkwardly.

Luca laughed and waved back, clearly delighted.

Then he paused.

”Oh. Sorry,” he said suddenly, cheeks coloring faintly. ”I realize I haven’t actually met you properly.”

He placed a hand over his chest. ”Hello! I’m Luca Kyros.”

”!”

”!!!”

”H-hi,” Owen managed, voice cracking in a way that would haunt him forever.

”Wait just a second,” Luca added happily, already turning. ”I should call my brother.”

The jovial cadet ran toward a stall.

The teens stared before realizing how quiet it suddenly was.

Only then did it hit them.

People were staring at them.

A lot of people.

Streams were rolling.

Terminals were raised.

Somewhere, possibly half the Empire was watching.

Owen tried very hard to keep a straight face.

This effort was immediately sabotaged by the fact that all four of his friends were jabbing him from different sides, eyes shining with feral excitement.

Because this was Luca Kyros.

And Luca Kyros was greeting them.

Owen was internally screaming with pride.

He nearly lost consciousness when his much shorter brother suddenly appeared while trailing after the famed guild leader.

”Owen?” Ollie blurted out.

The reaction rippled.

If the teens were flustered, the onlookers were worse.

Who would have expected Luca Kyros to treat commoners and nobles exactly the same?

And more than that, to do it so naturally?

Meanwhile, in a certain Junior Academy, students were already wailing.

Because apparently, being Owen Mylor meant living life on the easiest difficulty setting imaginable.