The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 779

Capítulo 779: Descent of the Stormborn

Tak tak tak.

Tak tak tak.

The mechas overhead adjusted in rhythm, creating a pulsing tension that rippled across the venue as two shadows dropped into the open road.

They landed with a force that felt ancient. Heavy. Reverberating.

To the soldiers watching, there was no doubt. Without the spiritual energy blanketing the ground, the impact would have left craters. The audience nearest the landing zone even had to dig in their heels as a burst of wind rolled toward them, strong enough to knock them off their feet.

But it wasn’t just the audience digging in their heels. Because Rahil Fayrion, aide to one elven prince, was actually trying his best not to jab at his lord.

If the guy kept tensing like that, they might end up being noticed for all the wrong reasons.

Surely he didn’t want a particular delegation assuming he was out there thinking of unsavory thoughts, right?

They already had a million problems. If they added that on top of everything else, would they even survive?

The concerned aide tried to get the prince’s attention to remind him to keep his shit together, because who knew who might be looking. But apparently, there wasn’t really any need for it, since even he forgot about his boss and best friend after being compelled to look.

Yes. Compelled.

The arrival of the first figure sent goosebumps down the arms of the nearest spectator.

Dark hair swept neatly to one side. Not a single strand moved out of place. The air around her felt unnervingly still, as if her very presence muted all disturbance.

No theatrics. No unnecessary movement.

She hardly seemed to land at all. It was as if the ground came to meet her rather than the other way around. Confidence radiated off her in quiet waves.

But the most striking thing he noticed was her eyes. Sharp, calculating, and observing. She had that calm poise of someone who noticed everything and was appropriately evaluating their worthiness.

But worthiness for what?

However, before Rahil could figure out the answer to that, the second figure came into view.

She straightened with regal ease. Her silhouette cut clean lines against the lingering smoke. When the light touched her, everyone saw a figure whose presence felt sculpted for command.

Her skin glowed like polished jade, and the cascade of deep red hair just highlighted her presence even more.

She stood tall. A perfect pillar. A posture one could only be born into, yet sharpened through generations of expectation.

Then Rahil watched her lips curve.

A small thing. Subtle. A little insane. Yet devastating in effect.

Rahil’s mind blanked for a second. Then returned with a single thought.

Shit.

He immediately checked the prince beside him, praying to every known deity that his lord wouldn’t be arrested today.

Thankfully, no one noticed the weirdness of one elven prince and the internal screaming of one poor aide.

Because no one had time or desire to look anywhere else.

__

The regal orc flicked her red hair back with a smile before snapping her fingers.

The whirlwind, the loose air, the drifting smoke, all of it collapsed inward as if yanked by an invisible command. It gathered obediently into a spherical ball in her palm, swirling and shimmering like a captured storm.

The crowd gasped as it felt like even the air around them was sucked out.

But what they didn’t expect was how the spherical ball was suddenly tossed toward the woman with dark hair.

“!!!”

Right by the steps leading into the ISEC halls, a certain father almost stepped on his aide’s foot to encourage and ensure the perfect capture of this scene.

If there was ever a need to capture anything perfectly in his aide’s life, it had better be this one. As this was something to serve as a historical reference for ages to come.

But in case he wasn’t satisfied with how the footage was commemorated, he was at least certain that Surna Marn was smart enough to record it with modern technology.

After all, with her daughter being there, surely she would have a vested interest in taking better angles.

Then again, shortly after this, a certain live streaming platform would have its biggest customer to date, because which orcish leader and devoted father would not want the best footage of the orcs making history?

King Garick watched intently as Ada caught the spherical ball of wind. But instead of simply catching it, she threw it upward as if to gather even more wind before letting the ball fall to the ground.

People gawked at the move. But what they didn’t expect was for her to effortlessly crush it beneath her foot.

The ball burst into a silent explosion, sending powerful gusts rolling across the ground. People braced themselves but were surprised by the impact’s particular concentration.

Huh?

Because there was no mistaking it, the target was really the floor.

The wind from the explosion swept through the confetti that had already fallen from earlier segments, sending it rising once again. They scattered outward then upward in a glittering swirl before drifting down like shimmering snow.

“!!!”

The audience lost their minds.

Children jumped. Adults shouted. Delegates blinked in disbelief. Even the commentators forgot to speak for several seconds.

It was ingenious. Sensational. Beautiful.

And very, very free—cool. It was very, very cool.

King Garick had to cough and clear his throat. Maybe he ought to learn that, too.

But just as he wrangled with the emotions of a proud father and orc, someone dared to mutter behind him.

The king’s eyes narrowed at the audacity to speak when faced with such a moment, but then he heard what the young orc said.

“What is that?”

Another orc turned to him. “What do you mean, what?”

“That. What’s that thing on Lady Marn’s shoulder?”

“Huh.”

But no one got to answer because a sudden guttural sound ripped across the sky, echoing through the venue and ricocheting off the surrounding buildings.

SKREEEEEE!

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