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

That was definitely a good call.

Somehow, it turned the return trip to Planet Nova into something that felt less like a journey and more like a working lecture that finally ended up with everyone suddenly scrambling, rushing to prepare their affairs before the day they were supposed to consume the fruit of the Queen of the Night.

It was to the point that, from an outsider’s perspective, one might think the various leaders were preparing to leave permanently, given how seriously they were handling schedules, responsibilities, and pending deliverables like they were about to pass everything down to a successor.

Definitely suspicious.

Officially, they framed it as nothing more than a short break following the stress of the Annual Expo. A reasonable explanation on paper.

But for people like Deputy Officer Curtis, that reasoning didn’t sit right at all.

Because really—who wouldn’t panic after being explicitly told not to launch any attacks or search parties, even if reports came in that the leaders had gone missing again?

That alone sounded like the beginning of a disaster.

”But Marshal—” Curtis was going to say something to the effect of, ’Isn’t that treason?!’

However, he didn’t get the chance to finish because his superior cut in smoothly, ”We’re having a meeting among ourselves, but that is strictly confidential.”

Ah.

Ahhh.

Well... that explained it.

Somewhat.

Curtis swallowed his words and nodded stiffly, though a new concern immediately surfaced.

A covert meeting of this scale?

Wouldn’t that be dangerous in its own way?

Apparently, his expression gave him away.

Marshal Julian glanced at him and added, ”I’m only telling you this because if our meeting takes longer than expected, people will come to you demanding authorization.”

A pause.

”So make sure to stall them.”

Curtis blinked.

Once.

Or maybe fifteen times in shock.

Because surely—

Surely he misheard.

He—as in poor Curtis Karswell—was supposed to stall them?

All of them?

Said Curtis stared at his superior, his soul quietly preparing to ascend.

By any chance, was he... being told to die?

__

Well, not exactly.

It wasn’t like Marshal Julian—or any of the other leaders—were planning to disappear for an unreasonable amount of time.

But after what had happened last time, and considering what the Elders had just hammered into them during that lecture, this level of caution was necessary.

Because really, unless they wanted to come back to news of the Empire collapsing while most of its leadership conveniently vanished...

Then yes.

This was necessary.

Of course, one very reasonable question came up.

Why not just stagger the consumption of the fruit?

It was a good point. A practical one, even. They had asked it themselves, hoping to leave at least a few people in place while the others went through what was very likely to be an awakening.

Unfortunately—

The fruit, more like the Elders, said no.

Much like the flower, it was time-sensitive. Not in the sense that it couldn’t be stored—Luca’s dungeon inventory could preserve it—but because the optimal moment to consume it was immediately after harvesting, right at peak ripeness.

According to the Elders, once the fruit changed color, it had a very short window before it over-ripened—about one to two days in the dungeon space.

Outside?

That translated to roughly eight to sixteen hours.

Which, in the grand scheme of things...

Was not a lot of time.

And since no one was willing to risk their first successful harvest—especially with a dungeon upgrade looming over their heads—they agreed to follow instructions.

Exactly as the Elders wanted.

The only compromise they managed to squeeze out of the situation was this: those whose fruits still needed a bit more time to ripen could briefly attend meetings or respond to calls, just enough to maintain the illusion that everything was functioning as usual.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was the best they had.

Mostly because the Elders had reacted rather... strongly.

”You dare not take it at its peak with the kind of spiritual pathways you all have?!” they had screeched. ”Aren’t you being too proud?!”

Ahem.

They genuinely looked like they were about to chase someone down with a broom if anyone suggested doing things in shifts again.

And frankly—

No one at their age wanted to be beaten like that.

Then again, such busy leaders wouldn’t be doing something like this if it hadn’t been all too important.

So what exactly did they learn from that lecture that had them acting like this?

Well—

Several things.

Beyond the discussion on abilities, they had also witnessed firsthand the cadets’ panic over their future children, along with the parents nearly collapsing at the sheer directness of their concerns. Now, that part definitely wasn’t in the Elders’ curriculum, but for the future of the Empire, it was oddly reassuring.

Encouraging, even.

Then came the information that most researchers would have killed to discover.

__

”Bloodline abilities, or affinities, shouldn’t be rare,” Elder Pao Xi stated firmly.

”They only seem that way right now. But in truth—or in a proper setting—they were never meant to be this exclusive.”

That alone was enough to make the room full of interstellar beings still.

Elder Feng stepped forward, elaborating with a calm that somehow made everything sound even more serious.

”But because of the unexpected spiritual energy-related handicap, most abilities ended up being limited to those who satisfied the minimum conditions.”

”We figured that usually meant having ample spiritual energy—something comparable to the individuals here.”

His hand gestured toward Xavier, Luca, Duke Leander, and the Imperial Monarchs before shifting to another group.

”Or being born with pathways already conducive to a specific ability,” he continued, pointing toward Princess Kira, Ada, Prince Elior, and Cece.

”But see, beyond scarcity, another reason for the lack of ability users is simple—people just weren’t aware of what was possible.”

A quiet murmur spread across the room. Noah’s brows particularly furrowed at this.

The Elders, however, didn’t pause.

”Ideally, one would stimulate and support their ability as early as possible by training along an affinity even before awakening it.”

”For those with affinity for water, it would be much better to train while maintaining contact.”

”Basically, the idea is to make everything more conducive to aid in development.”

”!!!”

That caught everyone’s full attention.

”If you train with a path in mind, your chances of reaching it increase significantly,” he explained. ”You’re working with the flow instead of against it and normally, that would help a lot by itself.”

”But how would that work for people who don’t even know what they’re attuned to?”

The question hung heavily in the air because it actually made sense.

And it was even more so when Elder Wei spoke, ”Let’s take the Imperial family as an example. We’ve been told that they determine a successor’s readiness based on when their bloodline ability manifests.”

”Note how it is marked as ’when’ and not ’if.’ There seems to be a certain level of certainty in the matter and we believe that it partly comes from knowing what runs in their blood—ice, in their case. The same way fire runs in House Kyros.”

The Elder’s gaze then shifted toward Duke Leander.

”Now in the case of House Kyros, if the Duke can wield it, and his predecessors could as well, then it only makes sense for his heir to follow a similar path.”

That was rather logical.

Elder Feng’s gaze then landed on Luca.

”Of course, there are exceptions. Like Lord Luca, abilities may manifest without prior knowledge—provided there is more than enough spiritual energy. But as you can imagine, ’more than enough’ means something like him.”

A pause.

”But given the current conditions, how many people could realistically reach his level?”

No one argued. It wasn’t exactly something they could answer when all the charts kept on returning ”inconclusive” when faced with someone like Luca.

Ollie, in particular, nodded so enthusiastically it looked like his head might detach. In his mind, his brother was already the peak of existence—well, second only to his husband who had just recently established an uncontestable position.

”But then,” Elder Feng continued, ”don’t you find it unusual that the Prince can wield abilities from two different affinities, while Lord Luca—who has comparable or even greater reserves—currently uses only one?”

That caught their attention again. Come to think of it, that was rather unusual...?

”It’s likely because the Imperial Crown Prince knew from the beginning what he was capable of,” the Elder explained.

”He didn’t have to guess. He didn’t need to experiment blindly or consider unrelated paths. He had a foundation, a direction.”

”Now knowing doesn’t exactly make the actual awakening easier—considering how Xavier almost froze himself to suffocation—but it does make it far more convenient to predict compared to those walking in the dark.”

Luca raised his hand, thoughtful.

”Elder Feng,” he asked, ”would it be possible for me to gain a second ability once we discover my maternal affinity?”

The Elders nodded in unison. Heck, with all those relatives that had come before them, there were simply so many other possible combinations.

”Yes,” one of them confirmed. ”It could even happen before ingesting the fruit. But the goal is to make it easier for everyone with a guide.”

Ollie’s hand shot up immediately.

”But Elders,” he said, voice unusually serious, ”you mentioned earlier that spiritual energy is important. For someone like me, who’s only A-rank... would it even work?”

A small chuckle followed.

”Ah, that,” Elder Shen said. ”As we’ve mentioned earlier, abilities themselves aren’t supposed to be rare. What’s actually rare is finding someone without an affinity.”

”What?!” Minister Kordell blurted out, unable to hold back.

”Yes,” the Elder nodded calmly. ”We’re simply helping you identify what’s already there by stimulating your affinity. Of course, you can’t expect the same scale or control as someone with higher reserves, but basic usage should be achievable with practice.”

The room went quiet.

Because what they were hearing...

Felt like something that should not be so casually explained.

”Take Her Highness Princess Nina,” Elder Shen continued. ”Given her lineage and current development, instead of summoning large constructs of ice at the moment, she may be able to form crystals or freeze smaller objects once she begins trying.”

”WOAH! Really, Elder Grandpa?!” Princess Nina practically bounced where she stood.

”Yes,” he replied with a smile. ”Or perhaps something spatial—just on a different scale as the one currently used by her Imperial Majesty as well as His Imperial Highness.”

”!!!”

The princess clutched her chest, looking like she was ready to start immediately.

”But do remember,” the Elder added, tone steady once more, ”affinity simply means attunement.”

”Just because people are attuned to the same affinity doesn’t mean they would be able to do the same exact things. They can vary—offensive, supportive, or otherwise—and only follow a common principle.”

He looked around the room.

”The difficulty lies in the sheer number of possibilities. That’s what makes it hard for people to identify their path.”

”So once we set out to do it later, make sure to pay attention to what feels natural yet unfamiliar. If something draws you, if a path feels like it’s ready to jump out of your skin, then that’s likely your direction.”

A pause.

”Now, we still have time before the fruits are ready. Those who can look into their family history—what their ancestors were capable of before the age of scarcity—will probably benefit greatly.”

And just like that, the room shifted.

Ollie turned to his parents, eyes wide, only to find them already deep in thought.

And they weren’t the only ones.

All across the room, people had begun mentally retracing their family trees.