The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 756

Capítulo 756: A Spear for a Betrayal

TW: Torture

The weather should have been nice.

In fact, it was perfect.

A soft breeze moved through the air, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from the floating gardens nearby. Sunlight filtered through the translucent canopy of enchanted branches, scattering gentle green light across the grounds.

Small birds hopped along the woven vines above the venue, their feathers shimmering like precious stones. Even the distant lakes reflected the sky so clearly that it looked like patches of polished glass.

It was the kind of day elves dreamed of.

The kind of day that felt handpicked by nature itself.

And the venue, despite being built in a rush, still radiated elven beauty. Arches grown from living trees curved over the ceremonial path, decorated with fresh blossoms that hummed with spiritual energy. Lantern fruit hung overhead, glowing softly. The entire structure seemed alive, breathing blessings of fertility, harmony, and long life.

Anyone would have wanted to be married under those arches.

Anyone except the groom.

Prince Silarion had not uttered a single word the entire day.

He had not smiled.

He had not sat up without help.

He did not even bother to stand unless someone physically held him up.

The king made excuses for him, telling curious nobles that the prince was still recovering from the trauma of being in the hands of the orcs. But the truth was both far simpler and far crueler.

The prince’s ability to speak had been sealed out of fear that he would expose everything and beg the guests to let him leave.

As for his weakened body, that was the result of being magically bleached and forcefully medicated day after day to scrub away any lingering ties to the Orc Prince. A necessary step, according to the king, so he could marry his son off to a reclusive elven tribe who knew nothing of what had really happened.

And so the prince stood there like a silent, trembling doll, bracing for a wedding he did not want.

Yet, just as the officiant raised his hands to begin the ceremony, the sky changed.

The perfect sunlight dimmed.

The gentle breeze stilled.

A heavy shadow passed overhead.

The guests looked up in confusion.

The clear sky they had admired only moments ago was suddenly covered by dark, rolling shapes. They were not clouds.

Because no clouds could possibly be that fast, that solid, or that heavy.

Before anyone could form a proper question, something enormous dropped from the sky.

Then another.

Then dozens more.

A rain of massive boulders crashed toward the ground.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Except they were not boulders.

They were orcs.

“!!!”

The ground shook as they landed. The guests screamed. Flowers scattered. Spiritual barriers flared into existence too late.

And in the center of all the chaos, the elven prince’s wide, tearful eyes reflected the fall of every single orc that had come for him.

__

What came next was most definitely an unexpected battle between murderous orcs and completely unprepared elves.

All of it was witnessed by the gagged elven princess, held in place by a spell that kept her silent but very aware.

She watched the chaos unfold as the orcs rounded up elves who had no idea what was happening. The elves tried to fight back, but it was like forcing toothpicks to challenge boulders. Some got swept aside. Others were pinned in seconds. Their confusion was louder than their resistance.

Eventually, the elves, who were innocent in the matter and had only come for a wedding, began to surrender. Their decision became even easier when they saw the supposed groom suddenly break into a run.

He ran straight toward the Orcish Prince.

His husband.

The orcs parted for him instinctively, and the weakened prince practically collapsed into those familiar arms. The Orc Prince caught him without hesitation, pulling him in close.

In front of everyone, the prince leaned up.

The orc lowered his head.

And they kissed.

It was soft.

It was desperate.

It was a reunion filled with relief.

“?!”

Gasps echoed throughout the venue.

No one from their side had expected that. After all, the elves present all thought that Prince Silarion had once been held as a pitiful captive.

But the elves did not have much time to react before another problem arose. The elven king had been inching away quietly, practically crawling toward the nearest escape route.

The unsuspecting bride, whose entire life just crashed moments ago, saw it.

And she snapped.

With a strength born from pure indignation, the innocent elven noblewoman grabbed the king by the back of his robes and dragged him across the ground.

“Treason!” the king shrieked. “Guards! Arrest this woman! Arrest everyone! This is treason!”

“Shut up,” the bride muttered as she hauled him closer to the reunited couple. “You wanted to marry me into this mess when he clearly loved someone else? You made me the third party? You think I enjoy this humiliation?”

The king choked on his outrage while scraping at the ground to resist, but she dragged him anyway.

After all, as elves who were distant from the sphere of this pretentious elven royalty, what could he really do to her when he was so busy trying to save his own skin.

Once she reached the couple, the noblewoman dropped the king at their feet, straightened herself, and bowed deeply.

“I apologize for this misunderstanding,” she said. “Your Highness, I withdraw from this arrangement. And to the Orcish Prince, I also apologize. If the two of you want to use the venue to have a renewal of vows instead, please do so.”

Both Silarion and his husband blinked.

Then they looked at each other.

And smiled.

For the first time in weeks, Prince Silarion smiled brightly, free from that heavy burden.

The orc held him close, overjoyed, but then realized something.

His wife still could not speak.

His expression darkened.

He turned toward the king and said in a chilling tone, “Release the spell on him.”

The king refused. Of course, he refused. He kicked and struggled on the ground, shouting about royal authority and sacred laws.

But when the Orc Prince gestured for the pierced princess to be dragged forward, the king froze. The sight of her grotesque metal rings and the agony she radiated was enough to break what little resolve he had.

He released the spell.

Almost instantly, Silarion’s voice returned.

Everyone exhaled in relief.

But the prince himself did not waste a second. The moment he confirmed his voice was back, he reached for a nearby short spear.

The orc husband stepped aside, as if already understanding.

And without hesitation, Silarion drove the spear straight into the treasured reproductive organs of the originally hopeful elven king.

The scream that came out of the king echoed across the planet. It was raw, primal, and full of despair. The elves recoiled in horror. Even the orc males abruptly closed their legs, instinctively protecting their own treasured parts.

Several of them vowed internally that they would never even think negative thoughts about their leader’s wife.

The king writhed only for a moment before passing out.

“You took my treasure away,” the Orc Prince said calmly to the bloodied man on the ground. “I have come to make sure you are repaid in kind.”

The elves did not argue.

They could not.

Because in that moment, everyone understood one thing very clearly.

The Elven Prince was definitely beloved.

And if they breathed wrong, they’d end up seeing their maker just like the elven king and his niece.

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