The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 732

Chapter 732: In a Haze

“Sid! The host! How could you just leave him like that!” cried the aggrieved mecha as it was unceremoniously hauled away.

“We didn’t abandon him,” Sid replied flatly. “If we had stayed, it would’ve been disastrous. So don’t even think about going back, because if you do, you might really lose your position to another manager.”

Gasp.

The whirring of D-29’s internal fans intensified, his distress readings spiking dramatically. “No! How could I, the most loyal of systems, be separated from the host?!”

Sid’s sigh was audible through the comms. “D-29. Think about this. Out of everything you’ve watched, what happens when someone interrupts the main character and their partner during the critical moment of reproduction?”

“!!!”

“…”

“Go on… tell me. I know you know what happens to them.”

“They… they are reassigned,” whispered D-29, processing the implications with trembling servos.

“Or?” Sid prompted patiently.

“They die…”

“Or worse?”

“T-they’re fired!”

Another sharp gasp echoed through the comms.

This time, Sid was sure the sound of whirring meant the little mecha had fully understood the gravity of the situation.

But then came the follow-up.

“Sid! Won’t I be fired faster if I don’t assist the host?!” D-29 exclaimed in pure panic. “The first time it happened, I had to help him for survival! If I’m not there, then how would he know how to interpret those bubbles?!”

Sid froze.

What?

“What… bubbles?”

“The bubbles! Sid! The bubbles!” D-29 shouted with the kind of urgency one would use to report a planetary detonation.

Sid’s systems whirred louder, internal alarms flickering on as if trying to protect him from knowing too much.

Just what the hell were those bubbles?

The guardian mecha didn’t know—and didn’t want to find out.

And so, in a burst of righteous self-preservation, Sid increased his thrusters and bolted, determined to get as far away from the Masters as physically and emotionally possible.

__

Thankfully, in a faraway clearing, one dungeon owner wasn’t dealing with bubbles.

Though honestly, maybe it would’ve been better if he had been dealing with the kind of bubbles that came with thought balloons from children’s storybooks.

Unfortunately, his current problem was far more serious.

It had been close. Too close.

Just moments ago, Luca had thought the temporary cabin wouldn’t make it. The surrounding ice had almost pierced through from every direction, forming jagged spears that seemed ready to tear everything apart.

Had he not used his best, highest-grade guiding pills, it would’ve been impossible to even get the rampaging prince inside.

But even those pills—painstakingly prepared beforehand—were like mere drops of water against the ocean that was Xavier’s consciousness.

Luca was painfully aware that all he had done so far was nothing more than a stopgap measure.

He could’ve sworn it hadn’t been this difficult before. Nor had it ever seemed this daunting because his husband had always been there to show him the way.

But now that Xavier was like this, all Luca could do was hope.

Hope that this would work.

However, before the hopeful guide could even begin his initiation, he had to ask himself… just what was happening?

Luca had just finished adjusting the collar of the body suit he had designed and finally—more like, hopefully—perfected.

It had been a gift he’d long been preparing for his husband, a suit that, unlike the ones they wore for mecha piloting, would be something made explicitly for channeling guiding energy better.

But before he could even take a step, something shifted behind him.

A shadow moved.

Then, an arm.

A strong, unyielding arm suddenly wrapped around his waist, pulling him back with such force that his breath hitched in surprise.

“Ah—!”

He had to steady himself against the wall, the smooth surface also cool against his skin as he froze.

“W-what—” he started, his voice trembling in confusion.

But before he could even finish, he realized who it was. Then again, at this point, who else could it have been? Someone who could move through space undetected would have to be his husband.

“Xavier?”

His heartbeat surged painfully in his chest. He turned his head slightly, his pulse thundering in his ears as he tried to look behind him—only to see the prince’s face mere inches from his own.

Xavier’s expression was the same as earlier—stoic, almost unreadable—but his breathing was not. It was deeper, heavier, carrying something that made Luca’s skin prickle and his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Xavier?” Luca tried again, softer this time.

Then the prince moved.

Luca barely had time to blink before Xavier’s lips found his.

Cold. So cold that it burned.

The kiss was like ice pressed against flame.

Too sharp.

Too sudden.

Too consuming.

Luca gasped, his hands instinctively clutching at the arm around his waist, his knees trembling from the rush that shot through him.

His back was flush against Xavier’s chest now, and the contact made him shiver. The prince’s body was unnaturally cold. So much so that it sent a chill straight through Luca’s suit. Yet that same icy touch only made his skin burn hotter in contrast.

Then, if he was feeling like this, what more Xavier, who had once told him he wanted to feel warmth?

But before he could continue his line of thought, Xavier tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and Luca felt his breath being stolen clean away.

It wasn’t like their usual kisses.

This one wasn’t careful. It wasn’t patient. It was hungry.

Luca could feel the demand in it.

And it caught the little guide in surprise as Xavier had always been the type to give, the type of man who would prioritize him even when he probably wanted more.

But this kiss got Luca confused.

Was it hunger for even more guiding energy that he’d been giving?

Then again, for one prince whose shackles had been undone, this was all a different experience.

It was like an unquenchable thirst.

When it first began, Xavier felt as though his insides were burning from the inside out. He had endured contamination before, even bouts of spiritual imbalance that Luca once described as similar to what they called “rampage” back in Tesseris—but he had never actually rampaged.

Well, apparently not until today.

There was a need to explode, as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe unless he released all the energy within him. So that was exactly what Xavier had been trying to do to get back to his loved ones faster.

But what was that?

Every time he wanted to blow up and release the clear buildup that had been making it hard to breathe, something warm would come and shackle him down.

It came faintly at first, like sunlight breaking through a blizzard. A steady pulse of warmth that seemed to touch the edges of his consciousness.

It was soft. Gentle. Familiar.

But it wasn’t enough.

And because it wasn’t enough, he had to get rid of it.

Whatever it was, it was preventing him from resolving the problem.

However, when the warmth disappeared, it was even worse.

And so the rampaging prince had to look for it.

The light that had barely held his awareness together disappeared, leaving only the biting cold behind.

Xavier breathed out defiance, his voice hoarse, barely human. His hands moved on their own, searching the air, searching for that warmth.

He didn’t think. He couldn’t.

When he finally found it again, he pulled it close.

The small, startled gasp that reached his ears barely registered before his lips crashed against it.

It was desperate—hungry.

The kind of contact that came from someone who had almost lost everything.

The silent, desperate need of a man who, for once, wasn’t thinking of duty or restraint, only of what he wanted.

__

The little guide shivered, his fingers curling helplessly around Xavier’s wrist as the taller man’s lips moved against his, coaxing soft, broken sounds from him with every shift and pull.

Luca tried to speak, to say his name, but the sound melted between them, swallowed by the way Xavier’s lips moved against his.

He didn’t even know if Xavier knew it was him.

“Hh—ah…”

Each breath came heavier, tangled with the faint hum of guiding energy flowing between them. Luca tried to focus, tried to push that energy through like he was supposed to. The suit made it easier—so much easier—to channel everything efficiently.

But the moment his focus drifted, the prince seemed to notice.

As if sensing that his prey’s attention had wandered, Xavier broke the kiss only to trail his lips down to Luca’s jaw. His left hand, which had been holding Luca’s chin, slid lower—slowly, deliberately—until his thumb brushed over the sensitive fabric of the suit, right across Luca’s chest.

“Ah—!”

The reaction was immediate.

Luca’s body jolted, his breath catching as heat flooded his face and his legs nearly gave out.

The suit amplified everything—the smallest touch, the faintest vibration, every pulse of energy between them.

Xavier’s hand stayed there, steady, holding him up when he almost sagged to the floor.

Luca gasped for air, his head tilting back against the prince’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded as he tried to gather his scattered breath.

“X… Xavier…” he whispered, voice trembling.

But in truth, Luca was internally wondering, What happened to him supposedly leading?!

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