The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 700

Chapter 700: The View from the Cliff

But maybe taking longer would’ve been better.

At least that way, it might’ve been better for everyone else’s sanity.

Maybe then they would’ve been more prepared to face the returning cadets after everything they’d witnessed from afar.

Because how could they have possibly prepared for all that?

No, definitely not for that.

Outside the satellite outpost of Zone Four but within the emergency barrier of the shelter, soldiers and officers stood on the high cliffs, looking at the raging sea before them. They couldn’t feel the pounding of the waves, but even from this distance, the tremors could be felt through the soles of their boots.

As for a closer view of the clash, the Duchess’s terminal projected the feed above them in crisp, glowing clarity. The moving images lit their faces with every flash of light and explosion, painting disbelief in real time.

Someone finally croaked, “Is that… is that really a mecha?”

Another voice, incredulous and high-pitched, replied, “Which one? The big one or the tiny one that’s scuttling all over?”

“Obviously the small one, genius.”

But before that person could say anything else, someone smacked the back of his head. “Shut it. That small one’s doing better than the rest of your giant mechas combined.”

“…”

“…Yeah, that’s fair.”

The feed moved ever so slightly again as another shot lit up the screen. In truth, if they hadn’t heard the conversation earlier, no one would’ve figured out which mecha fired the shots. Because all they could see were flashes of light, streaks of energy, and explosions that appeared almost before the shots were heard.

But not anymore. By now, they’d accepted that all those wordless shots were coming from one frightening mecha.

Soldiers, especially those who piloted medium mechas, would regularly flinch every time a shot exploded. Because in their fragile minds, it could’ve been them.

“Who even shoots like that? There’s no warning!” one pilot muttered, imagining how he would’ve likely succumbed to friendly fire even if he had managed to survive a raging tentacle.

“And what’s with the aim?! How can they even tell where to shoot?!”

“They said they actually can’t! Maybe they’re just insane?!”

“Sure, that’s really something, but have you even seen the mecha that’s been firing the shots?”

“!!!”

It obviously started an uproar. From the location to the aim that always hit true, many were starting to question their own skills.

“I’m probably just hallucinating, but it really looks like they’re moving without delay…”

The mechas on-screen were too fast. Way too fast. Even for soldiers with enhanced senses, their movements blurred together like a dance most couldn’t follow. They even cut through water and air with precision so sharp it looked unreal.

Someone muttered, “They’re definitely custom-made, right? They don’t move like ours.”

“Definitely. If even you’re custom-made, how could they not be? I mean, just look at them!”

“…”

There were no answers, just muttered curses and disbelief. The screen flashed again, showing a smaller white-and-gold mecha slicing through another set of tentacles. Behind it, the red mecha continued blocking oncoming sneak attacks, then turned the block into a counterattack that sent the limb spiraling back into the waves.

The soldiers could only gape.

But Sera, who had already seen footage of her support mecha versus the Marshal’s new mecha several times over, clenched her fists as she stared. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Because of the mecha’s classification, most would likely dismiss her support mecha as relatively weak. Still, as someone who had piloted it for herself, she knew her mecha was already one of the most advanced units in the Empire—a model straight from Young Lord Luca Kyros himself. And yet… this?

Her fingers trembled as she whispered to herself, “What… kind of level is this?”

Because what they were all seeing went far beyond skill.

It was something entirely different.

Inside the Imperial Battleship’s command center, Deputy Officer Curtis stood stiffly beside the Marshal, eyes locked on the projection coming from Captain Kane’s terminal.

He thought he had seen the peak of insanity back when the Marshal’s mecha single-handedly flattened an entire unit after they all failed to scratch his mecha.

But what do you know? They had barely even scratched the surface of mecha advancement with those two.

And just when everyone thought mechas were already the pinnacle, now there were weapons in the mix too. Curtis remembered the last auction and quietly feared for the Empire. Then again, maybe it was the Federation that deserved pity.

Thank every star that the one wielding that insane cannon was the Imperial Prince himself. Because if it had been anyone else, the rest of them might’ve needed to rethink their life choices.

What kind of weapon had no tells? And unless he’d gone blind, Curtis was sure there was something strange about the nature of each shot.

How could every single one hit like a homing missile?!

Which terrorist wouldn’t trade their soul—or their third-born—for something like that?!

He glanced at the Marshal beside him, half expecting him to start muttering or fainting. Instead, Julian Theron looked strangely calm. Too calm.

Curtis blinked. “Sir?”

The Marshal didn’t answer right away. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the screen.

In truth, Marshal Julian was taking it far less gracefully than he looked. After all, he knew more things than he could let on.

Deep inside, the poor uncle was desperately trying to wipe his mind clean of the visit he’d made to Luca Kyros’s mecha manufacturing facilities.

He was trying very hard not to think about the piles of rejects and perfect parts, or about Duke Leander’s personal biomecha, or the fact that there were plenty more where those came from. Because after seeing them in action, he could finally understand Killian’s despair.

So many miracles—and just as many potential disasters.

But that was for later. For now, the biggest one of all—literally—was still unfolding right before them.

The waters clamored once again.

More than a dozen tentacles shot up, whipping through the air like black storms. Each strike cracked the surface of the sea, sending geysers skyward.

The next round started with an explosion of light.

All five units moved at once. From the command center’s feed, it was chaos made beautiful—coordinated strikes, sweeping arcs of metal, and explosions.

Luca’s sword-whip lashed out before turning solid as it split through a cluster of tentacles. In the same breath, tentacles were exploding as Xavier burst them in rapid succession.

Meanwhile, Jax continued using directional shockwave, knocking back the tentacles, while Kyle shot through the air in sharp, controlled movements, his mecha’s rapier cutting through anything that tried to get close.

And to everyone’s surprise, D-64 kept swooping down from above, its blade-like limbs slashing apart the tendrils that tried to flank them.

Then again, amidst the clash, a silent battle had long been going on as a certain blonde once again directed the little mecha towards their most valuable loot.

This time, their efforts took out a much larger chunk of the monster.

And for a moment, it looked like they were winning.

Until the tentacles began to move again.

From the command center, Marshal Julian and the others stared as the monstrous limbs began to grow back rapidly. The severed parts twitched, then bubbled over, stretching and reforming. The cut edges elongated, making several military officers turn pale.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know about it, but because they’d been taking out tentacles one after another, it mostly looked like new ones were replacing them.

But now they were seeing that big chunk regenerating, and it was definitely unsettling.

Even more alarming was how the monster still managed to attack while in the middle of regeneration.

The tentacles moved once again, but this time the cadets switched formations.

This time, their mechas moved in five different directions. The tentacles split apart in pursuit, stretching like a pentagon as it followed each one like predators chasing prey.

Unrelenting attacks followed in their wake, and the cadets dealt with the pursuing tendrils with just as much fervor.

But no matter how many times they cut, the tentacles just kept on growing back.

“Didn’t they just hit that part?” Curtis asked quietly.

“At this rate, probably more than twice now,” someone answered. “Yet it’s still moving.”

Curtis’s eyes narrowed. “Are they testing something?”

Marshal Julian didn’t answer right away. His gaze followed the synchronized pattern of movement as well as the particular choice of formation on the screen.

“I think they are,” he finally said. “Record everything. Start analyzing the data. If they’re trying to understand that thing, we’ll learn from it.”

The command center buzzed with activity as officers scrambled to interpret what they just saw.

Well, Marshal Julian wasn’t completely off the mark.

But if any other responsible adult heard the thoughts plaguing Luca’s mind, they would’ve had a meltdown. After all, the little money-grubber was desperate to get up close and definitely personal with the maw of that creature.

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