The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 708

Chapter 708: Miracle Kits

Of course it would.

So, in the eerie silence of the suddenly still waters, the monstrous bloom decided to prioritize itself.

But then again, how could humans—the frailest species in the interstellar realm—have survived this long if not for their absurd resilience and sheer tenacity?

So much so that, in the face of calamity, one young man thought not just of strategy, nor of retreat, but of the magic of bread and butter.

Yes. Bread and butter.

The dinner earlier had taken the soldiers of Zone Four by extreme surprise, and by the time the final burp echoed through the shelter, they collectively realized that such a magical thing had truly happened.

“Wow,” someone muttered in quiet awe, too full to move yet too dazed to sleep.

But apparently, the night was far from over.

Because when the next batch of items was distributed, and the staff rolled out what appeared to be emergency kits, everyone froze in confusion.

The first thing that caught their attention was the container itself. It was sleek, almost glass-like, and far too pretty to be anything used in the field. One soldier even tried knocking on it, worried that it would shatter.

Before anyone could comment further, a jovial yet strangely calming voice answered their unspoken question.

“Hello! The container is actually specialized to contain spiritual energy,” someone explained. “So, provided the items stay inside it, corrupted creatures that are extremely sensitive to spiritual energy shouldn’t be as aggravated.”

Sam whipped his head toward the source of the voice—only to see the one and only Luca Kyros, the famed heir of House Kyros, standing just a few feet away.

Up close, the young man looked exactly as harmless as the photos on Star Net, but also covertly powerful in the most confusing way possible.

While he was known as the mechanic who made the Marshal and Sera’s mechas, as people who witnessed the earlier ordeal, they were sure that he was so much more than that.

He was even smiling. Cheerfully.

Like someone who hadn’t just faced a monster the size of a city block earlier that day.

And right now, he was explaining what the container was.

A way to contain spiritual energy? There was such a thing?

Sam exchanged wide-eyed looks with his comrades. Half of them were still processing the fact that they were being given emergency kits, and the other half were stuck on the concept of “containment.”

Before anyone could even ask questions, more and more items were pulled out of the kits.

Small packets that looked suspiciously like nutrient solutions—but were apparently juice to be consumed when one was drained or parched.

Then came thin sealed packs labeled Beef Jerky and Butter Sugar Toast. Both were in strips, but one looked savory while the other sparkled faintly, coated in something that could only be described as “holy sweetness.”

They learned that just because they knew about salt and sugar didn’t mean they actually knew what good ones were supposed to taste like.

So imagine their surprise when they saw a generous amount of sugar on each strip.

Yet, according to the Young Lord, they had wanted to add more items, but due to their shelf life, they’d chosen what could last longer.

After all, no one wanted to use an emergency kit; doing so meant something had gone terribly wrong.

Sam could only stare at the container, conflicted.

The dinner they’d just eaten was enough to drag someone from the edge of collapse due to spiritual imbalance back to a state that felt beyond stable.

But those who had such problems were already shaking in their boots because when they were treated by the medical team, they could’ve sworn they no longer felt anywhere near collapse.

They didn’t have the right detectors at the shelter to test, but those who knew they were likely going to be medically discharged soon could only look at each other because that didn’t seem like the case anymore.

Then again, whispers had been spreading in the military. They were hushed but extremely hopeful.

Rumors about discharged soldiers returning to active duty—whole, steady, and stronger than ever.

Those soldiers never said what happened, but those who knew their old conditions swore that they had been cured.

So even without confirmation, even without proof, every soldier here could feel it deep inside:

If they survived this, if they made it back, everything would be alright.

And what do you know?

Even the Young Lord himself said the same thing.

“Just return,” Luca said simply, his voice sincere as he looked around the gathered soldiers. “It’s okay if it takes longer to defeat the enemy, but if you come back alive, everyone could return stronger to fight back. So please prioritize returning.”

For a moment, no one could speak.

And then, somewhere in the crowd, people started exhaling shakily and muttering silently that it would be really shameful to die considering all this.

It sounded extremely dark, but in truth, they couldn’t help but be too hopeful.

The heir waited until the murmurs died down before he pointed at another small case from the emergency kit. It was rectangular, no larger than his palm, and divided neatly into three compartments.

“This,” he said pleasantly, “is a medical pill box.”

It sure looked harmless. Inside, there were only nine pills, three of each kind.

But when Sam heard what each one did, he felt that three of each were just too many!

To begin with, he couldn’t believe his ears about the pills. Do such things actually exist?

But beside Sam, Marco was visibly trembling.

Of course he was. The guy had nearly died just hours ago. But the medics from House Kyros made him swallow one of those exact pills, and he actually managed to survive. In fact, anyone looking at him wouldn’t be able to imagine what kind of battle he’d gone through earlier.

The two shared a wordless look, and Sam thought that it was insane how they were all allowed to walk with such things.

A pill for physical injuries, another for when they think they’re going to expend a lot of spiritual energy, and most controversially, a pill for when they think there’s a possibility of contamination.

There was a collective intake of breath.

Sam could’ve sworn he saw Sera’s hand tremble at this. But how could he not understand when Sera’s father had been secluded because he was in the late stages of Spiritual Imbalance Disorder? It was one reason why she and Captain Nico were thinking of tying the knot as early as possible.

But look at them, holding such pills.

Sam had to gingerly put them back inside the container for fear of accidentally squishing a lifeline while swearing to follow the directions of use and not taking more than one pill of the same kind at a time.

“Do you think it’s really right for us to have this? We’re mostly piloting manual mechas…?”

Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was Nia who spoke up, but maybe she shouldn’t have jinxed herself like that?

Because, what do you know—when push came to shove, humans would use everything to survive.

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