The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 325: Camp

Sadly, it was not such a distant future, for there was no end to the threats that could come their way.

Like the well-trained ears of a leader in need of capable or passable subordinates.

To be fair, they hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not technically.

Because they really tried to avoid overhearing things, but couldn’t when their ears twitched by themselves.

So they listened.

And wept.

Wept so hard that, had Duchess Amelia not been so engrossed in her own tears, she would’ve come out swinging just to scold them for reacting worse than she did.

And it showed.

Their eyes were red. Their noses were stuffy. Their hearts cracked and taped together after one hell of a ride.

Maybe save for the adjutant who couldn’t even spare a tear because he was too busy keeping the mop from melting into a puddle of emotional goo.

He was too busy keeping all of Ollie’s shattered pieces together that he’d have to delay processing the emotions associated with learning about the truth.

But now he realized that those older adults were trying to book it. And fast.

They inched away, ever so discreetly, trying to "casually" melt into the shadows.

For they knew what it meant to be caught within the firing zone.

But it was too late.

They had stayed a second too long, listened a bit too hard, and now?

They were trapped.

Their eyes spoke volumes of their battle plan, but their hopes were dashed the moment a warm, honeyed voice called from inside the tunnel.

"Ladies and gentlemen~" Duchess Amelia sang, voice so sweet it was menacing.

"!!!"

Every muscle in their bodies locked.

Cece winced on their behalf.

While Gisella braced herself as if watching comrades fall in slow motion.

As for Butler Gary? He consoled himself by remembering how he’d long prepared his last will.

The Duchess emerged, all smiles and shimmer, as she terrified them with her clear gaze.

Her arms were folded neatly over her chest, her head tilted just a touch, and it screamed peril.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you’d still be around," she said sweetly. "Surely you heard enough by now?"

There was a collective gulp.

Because they did, they heard everything.

So now, they were implicated.

"Wonderful," Amelia beamed. "Then I don’t have to explain much."

The poor veterans were stiff as statues, looking everywhere but at her.

As if that was of any use.

She smiled wider.

"Then you’ll have to humor me by agreeing to a few things, okay?"

A pause.

"First, we need to get out of here as fast as we can."

"We will take shortcuts when possible. And I think you all understand why?" She looked at them pointedly.

Everyone shook their heads like terrified schoolchildren.

"Good," she purred. "Because the moment we do get out of here—and we will—I better not see a single one of you running your mouth to my husband—"

"Unless my son decides to do that himself."

They nodded frantically.

"I get it," she continued with irritation. "I understand the feeling of wanting to seek justice. But until we have the location of that blasted planet, then Leander ought not to know."

Her voice dipped low. A voice that showed restrained fury.

"He will be fixated. And we’d rather he focus on his time with his son rather than going rabid trying to look for it in anger."

"But we will look for it. Even if it’s the last thing I’ll do." Her eyes narrowed, determination reaching everyone who was listening.

Then the duchess looked back towards Luca, who had been listening with wide eyes.

"As for their relationship..." Amelia murmured. "We won’t specifically hide it from him. But..."

A slow inhale.

"I sure hope that kid has recovered by then."

Because if not?

She’d need a hospital.

No—two.

One for her husband.

And one for that white rabbit currently disguised as a wolf.

Sure, he could’ve been a sheep. But a sheep getting overpowered by an even smaller animal?

Yeah, no. He was a rabbit.

One who had to be investigated for safety.

For which family had such a contract that it looked like it could traverse her son’s body?

Not even the House of Kyros.

And since she wasn’t really left with any other choice, it would have to come to that.

Also, if her son was going to be part of an even bigger family, then she would have to check if they deserved him.

But all of that was for later.

For now, they had to set up camp before attacking that wailing tree.

It was just that their camp looked a tad bit odd.

They had a gathering of mechas because it would be unthinkable to sleep on the ground when every so often a tide of beasts would come for a visit.

But this was already the ideal hiding space for when that tree decides to grace them with its presence.

When she and Gisella first got here, they almost died trying to escape that tree.

And it was then that they lost many of their things from those spores, until they realized how the other beasts were moving towards a certain direction.

The barren lands.

For after that invisible demarcation line, only the beasts would be able to come through.

And while the beasts were problematic, they at least didn’t corrode their weapons like that tree did.

It was just that they’ve never had to deal with such a tide.

A-rank beast tides.

But at the same time, they’ve never had such people in their team.

The beasts sure as hell evolved. But the number of carcasses they saw earlier momentarily got them wondering if the dungeon really increased in level.

Or were these kids just monsters?

She couldn’t be so sure.

But if there was one thing she could be sure of, they at least had a hoarder. Or two.

For that was how they were able to set up the most unusual camp she’d been on.

Now it wasn’t the gathering of owned and borrowed mechas that was odd about this, but what they were doing despite being refugees.

For one, Luca’s golden mecha, which the duchess was sure came from the duchy, was lent to her for the foreseeable future.

As for Gisella and Cece, they were able to use Xavier’s combination piloted mecha that he usually used for school.

But all this was possible because a certain someone had containers of the liquid from the pool, which they were able to use to coat these mechas.

However, what really surprised them was the rations.

And Cece, who sniffed the provisions, could’ve sworn allegiance if she had been asked.

They called it Egg Fried Rice.

A lackluster name.

For in her opinion, such a thing should’ve been called something like "Heaven’s Mercy."

Golden, glistening grains lay before them, and she could’ve sworn they called to her.

Beckoned her to take a bite.

It was shaky at first. Her hands, which were usually made for precision, suddenly trembled from the aroma that spoke to her.

But that was nothing.

For when she took a bite, it felt like that fucker of an ex-husband had actually done her great service—for once.