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

”As you could expect, with the support of the equally enraged Master Allan, Master Yorrick threw down his cane and screeched, ’You little—!’”

Kyle was currently reading through the investigation report while attempting to reenact portions of what’d been documented.

Unfortunately, because he was doing so with the exact same expression he’d use while reading weather forecasts, the dramatic recreation ended up having the opposite effect.

”Wait, wait, wait!”

A panicked blonde abruptly cut him off.

”So they basically fought again?!”

Ollie looked completely deranged.

He’d been listening to the findings this entire time, but even after hearing about elderly master mechanics nearly getting into what sounded suspiciously like a hair-pulling contest, he still couldn’t understand what any of it had to do with little ol’ him.

So the blonde stood up and pointed at himself.

”Kyle!”

The new husband, who was named as such, looked up from the tablet he was reading from to hear his wife say something familiar.

”Explain it to me like I’m five!”

Ollie jabbed a finger repeatedly into his own chest.

”Earlier, this was all about how the foreign nationals reacted to the return of their delegates. Then all of a sudden it’s our master mechanics entering into a fight with other equally old people?!”

The blonde looked genuinely baffled by the concept, his hair antenna standing rigid as if similarly outraged.

”Where do they even get the energy for that?!”

He waved both arms dramatically.

”Forget energy! Where do they get the back strength?!”

Honestly, Ollie had a lot of concerns.

Normally, this would’ve been hilarious. It would be easy to imagine how they rode on their scooter-like hovercrafts, bumping each other with their canes while verbally insulting each other’s ancestors like they weren’t all headed for the same place.

The gossip-enjoyer would’ve happily sat back with snacks while listening to stories about elderly mechanics declaring blood feuds over professional pride.

Unfortunately, he was currently the one being sacrificed to the gods.

That made things considerably less funny.

In truth, Kyle also thought his wife had every right to feel confused.

Actually, it wouldn’t have been strange if Ollie were outright angry.

Even his father, Minister Kordell, had returned to the dungeon space specifically to complain about how ridiculous the entire situation was.

Granted, the Minister also admitted that the plan was annoyingly effective, and the more they scrutinized it, the more well thought out it seemed.

Which somehow made it worse.

Surprisingly, the person who finally decided to translate everything into terms a sane person could understand wasn’t Kyle but the blonde’s own mother.

Marquise Julienne.

She stood by the doorframe, quiet as always, as she listened to all the ramblings like usual. Only this time, instead of just observing, she made a show of stretching her arm while saying, ”It’s because the rest of them can’t lose horrifically.”

”...Huh?”

The rather eccentric but normally jovial woman walked toward the center of the meeting room, a space they’d relocated to after collectively deciding that further agitating the bees resting in Jax’s medical bay room was probably not in anyone’s best interests.

Once there, she pulled up a blank projection board and began writing names across it with her finger.

One faction.

Then another.

Foreign powers.

Local powers.

Organizations.

Influential families.

Before long, a web of circles and connecting lines filled the display.

Only then did she begin her explanation.

”All of this boils down to one very important fact.”

The Marquise tapped the board.

”None of the foreign nations or local factions participating in the Astral Cup can afford to lose badly and publicly.”

Her finger paused.

”And after what happened recently, they’ve realized that’s a very real possibility.”

Several gazes immediately shifted toward Luca, who sat there with his eyes wide in surprise.

Julienne noticed.

”Understanding why requires a bit of context.”

She circled several of the larger powers.

”As you can probably tell, there’s a conventional hierarchy that most foreign nations like to maintain. Not necessarily because it’s accurate, but because it creates the impression of stability, valuation, and might.”

Her hand moved across the projection.

”As such, they’d like to believe—and show—that we’re all wary of one another because, for the most part, we’re similarly competent, similarly powerful, or similarly influential economically...”

”Maintaining that perception is important because, to varying degrees, everyone relies on international relationships for resources, trade, and technological advancement. It’s a delicate balance.”

The Marquise shrugged.

”And, to be fair, there’s some truth to it. The Empire may be large and powerful, but that size is both an advantage and a burden. We still need a steady flow of materials and resources, which means cooperation with other nations remains necessary, especially in the middle of this scarcity and fight against corruption.”

Then she tapped another name.

”The Federation.”

Several people immediately straightened.

”Internally, they’ve always been treated rather delicately.”

She paused.

”And by delicate, I don’t mean like a flower.”

Julienne made a face.

”I mean like a ticking bomb.”

Several people nodded.

”Most races are wary of them, but few actively push for their removal. The prevailing argument has always been that they allegedly serve a purpose by keeping the Empire in check.”

The Marquise immediately raised two fingers.

”Operative word: allegedly.”

She even made air quotes.

The cadets stared.

”Because whether they actually managed to keep the Empire in check is another discussion entirely.”

Then she looked directly at the group of young adults gathered.

They were most definitely young and fresh-faced, yet powerful enough to shake such an established narrative.

”And then you guys happened.”

Julienne smiled, then gestured toward the personification of change.

”Particularly our dear Luca here.”

The golden-eyed cadet seemed surprised by that, despite everyone agreeing wholeheartedly.

”In the span of roughly two weeks, centuries of perceived balance and decades of carefully cultivated Federation narratives were thrown straight into the nearest waste disposal unit.”

”...”

”...”

Several people looked toward Luca.

Luca looked toward Xavier.

But what could the Imperial Prince say about something that was true?

The Marquise continued.

”Anyone who wasn’t living under a proverbial rock could already tell the balance was shifting.”

She tapped the board again.

”But only after those delegates returned home did everyone else learn just how dramatic that shift actually was.”

The room grew quiet.

”You can just imagine how the Federation delegation reported things.”

Julienne’s smile became particularly evil.

”Or complained about things.”

Several people immediately pictured it.

The Federation delegates returning home.

Traumatized.

Exhausted.

Possibly still recovering.

”They may have tried to maintain their dignity publicly,” the Marquise continued, ”but once they returned to their families? Their organizations? Their sponsors?”

She laughed.

”Oh, they definitely complained.”

Several cadets snorted.

”It’s probably not obvious to ordinary viewers just how severe the damage to their technology actually was. But once their researchers and engineers started examining the aftermath and attempting repairs?”

Julienne’s smile widened.

”Just imagine the sudden panic.”

”Oh.”

Ollie slowly nodded.

”Well, that’s true, Mom.”

The blonde scratched his cheek.

”They did look pretty okay at the time.”

Then he remembered exactly who his good brother was.

”...Though, knowing my brother...”

”Exactly.”

”But I still don’t get it.”

The mop frowned.

”I understand why everyone would suddenly want information about my brother.”

That part seemed obvious.

”Because who wouldn’t?”

Several people nodded.

Luca immediately looked embarrassed.

”But me?”

Ollie pointed at himself.

”Why am I involved?”

The Marquise’s smile somehow widened further.

Several people immediately felt bad for the blonde.

”Ah.”

Julienne clasped her hands together.

”My sweet, sweet summer child.”

Ollie immediately felt a sense of impending doom.

”That’s exactly why you’re perfect for all of this.”

”Eh???”

The blonde’s horrified confusion echoed throughout the room.

”You’ve all certainly done a great job positioning DG and House Kyros in a way that would deter direct conflicts. But unfortunately for them, the very threat they should be wary of also carried all the good advancements in critical fields that could determine a nation’s prominence and survival.”

The Marquise shrugged.

”As you can imagine, only an idiot would want to antagonize and burn such an important bridge, and it’s clear they all know that.”

She gestured toward the collection of foreign factions written across the board.

”Just look at the Federation. Even after what happened to them, there are still no signs of them waging a war for being slighted when normally they would’ve responded with some sort of retaliation.”

Marquise Julienne then turned to Kyle and asked, with a smile, ”Now, my son-in-law, what do you think is the reason for their behavior?”

The adjutant who was listening jolted straight, momentarily surprised by the sudden attention but still answered, ”Because we’re still just cadets.”

”Right. Thank you, dear.” The satisfied mother-in-law then turned to her own child and said, ”What would it say about them if they were to react heavily to their supposed elites losing against an academy guild that didn’t even number more than the usual human fingers?”

The blonde listened to his mother and thought how, yeah, sure enough, that’d make the Federation look bad.

”Not just bad,” she said as if she could read her son’s mind, ”but worse, they’d end up proving just how weak and threatened they really are.”

”And we know this to be true, judging by this elaborate move they all seemed to agree to pull.”

The rather petite woman straightened as she circled several foreign factions.

”With the return of the delegates, they’re likely painfully aware of how far along the Empire has pulled on them.”

”But thankfully for them,” Julienne continued, ”they also believe the Empire has no interest in aggressively flaunting that advantage.”

The Marquise crossed her arms.

”They know we’re generally interested in maintaining peace whenever possible. As long as nobody loses too publicly, the old power dynamics can remain in place.”

But then her subtle smile turned slightly amused.

”Even if everyone involved secretly knows that they must all be scrambling to close the gap that Luca and the rest of you created while they were busy being complacent.”

”!”

”Still, there would come a time when the illusion would crack.”

”!!!”

”And when would that be?” This time, the Marquise looked over with a soft smile toward Luca, who’d actually been taking mental notes with D-29 as if he was listening to a history or strategy class.

At the sudden attention, Luca blinked.

”Hm?”

The poor cadet looked genuinely confused.

The Marquise, who seemed to enjoy giving such sessions, smiled patiently.

”Now, Luca.”

”Yes?”

”Can you think of any upcoming event where it might be possible to demonstrate overwhelming dominance once again?”

At first, he looked completely lost.

Then the Marquise offered a generous hint.

”Perhaps a large-scale competition involving multiple nations?”

”...!”

Realization finally struck.

Not that the guild leader ever dreamed of showing dominance of a unique kind to anyone other than his beloved husband, but he figured that maybe the Marquise was referring to... ”The Astral Cup...?”

Oh my.

The Astral Cup!