The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 474: Straight

Well, how could he not charge?

Luca had been itching to test his hypothesis since the beginning of the exam.

While others might’ve assumed he was following Xavier’s tactics, the truth was a little more niche. This time around, Luca hadn’t actually been focused on Xavier’s movements—what had caught his attention was the weapon and how Xavier used it.

Specifically, the custom ones they were asked to use for the exam.

Because no matter how he looked at it, this weapon felt different than their usual ones.

So he asked D-29 to look into it, and after a few scans, the little system gave a very telling analysis:

"Host, these weapons aren’t fitted with limiters."

"Ah! That’s why!"

And that was all Luca needed to hear.

No limiters meant no constraints on spiritual energy output. No wonder they felt more like testing devices. Which meant the weapon would register an equivalent spiritual energy without capping it. After all, it was just producing simulated damage. Well, of course, not counting those who were physically bludgeoned with the weapon, like the upperclassmen who unfortunately encountered Jax.

So that probably explains Xavier’s earlier method!

The little golden dragon twisted in his seat, remembering how fascinating it was to see just how Xavier kept his energy output steady with every strike. And at first, Luca thought it was the standard effect, but after checking the other students, it was only Xavier who appeared to maintain the same value the entire time.

All one hits.

And if Luca was right, that meant that each and every one of Xavier’s attacks cleanly hit the 30% threshold necessary to trigger token detachment from the sophomores.

More than that, he noticed how Xavier wasn’t even aiming for strategic points. He was just hitting and taking the closest route to grab a token. Because apparently, it didn’t matter where you hit; all that mattered was how much energy you used when hitting.

And suddenly, Luca’s initial surgical plan—where he’d carefully poke at weak joints and exposed limbs—seemed completely outdated.

This isn’t a test about precision, he realized. It’s a test about control and estimation.

So, Luca ditched finesse for function.

And the results?

Thunk.

The hit landed with a strangely satisfying donk, and out of nowhere, the first unlucky sophomore went down like a tower of cards.

CLUNK.

All three tokens lit up and detached immediately.

Even Luca paused, a little stunned.

Oops.

How come that was more than 90%?!

He barely even tapped him! It was a rough guesstimate because these custom weapons didn’t come with a dedicated dashboard or UI. Xavier must have guessed just how much energy he needed.

"..."

"...!"

There was a beat of silence before the six other sophomores decided it was time to bail.

Unfortunately for them, Luca still needed to check his adjusted guess.

Thunk. Thunk.

Two more students were hit, each sacrificing two tokens in surrender before sprinting away.

Luca blinked at the sudden generosity. "Oh! At least this time they didn’t get eliminated!"

"Host, that was a great attempt! And a magnanimous one, too!" affirmed D-29, who had watched such scenes before, where the bad guys are given one more chance to repent.

Luca blushed at the praise but continued. And by the time he was done, he’d collected ten tokens from the fleeing mechas. He wasn’t even sure if there was a bonus for extras, but hey, might as well.

He looked at the sprawling arena.

Most of the remaining opponents had scattered, clearly wanting nothing to do with the lunatic who took out seven upperclassmen in under four minutes.

But Luca could only wave them goodbye as he thought about the other classmates who still needed to get badges for themselves. It was just a belated realization, but eventually, what would happen if just a few people took all the badges?

It seems like it would be bad for the people, so he decided to go finish his exam earlier instead.

Then he muttered to himself while looking at the dashboard. "Hmmm. How long to the finish line?"

"Host, with this terrain and C-rank speed? Fourteen minutes, minimum."

Luca frowned. "Wow. Isn’t that too long?"

Definitely not.

At least not for normal people. But Luca thought differently, but realized that they couldn’t really overload a C-class mecha with spiritual energy because of its limiters, and so even if he wanted to boost himself over, it wouldn’t be possible because of hardware limitations.

Hmm.

A pause.

"...that’s if we follow the trail, right?"

"Yes, Host. Do you want to follow a different route?"

"Yeah, I think I’d rather just make one."

The good thing about this weapon was that while his mecha was limited, the specialized exam weapon wasn’t.

And if that was the case, that should mean it was made that way for a reason, right?

Well, no.

Not really. Because the inventors never really thought that there would one day be a lunatic who would think up and actually be able to actualize such an idea.

But there was Luca with a supportive assistant who plotted just as he wanted.

It was perfect.

And it made a sound that would make his good brother proud.

BOOOOOOOM.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the arena...

Noah was frowning. Again.

It wasn’t because of the test, really. He was doing just fine. He’d already won three times, and with the Duchess’s hellish sparring sessions under his belt, a few sophomores barely counted as warm-up.

But now?

Now he was being ganged up on by his own fellow batchmates.

"What the hell is your problem?" he barked into the comms.

"You traitor! Always sucking up to Luca!"

Sucking up? Noah blinked. "You mean being reasonable?"

Apparently, that was all it took to paint a target on his back. These weren’t even students from his actual class. Not anymore, they wouldn’t be that stupid to attempt that again.

No. These individuals were merely the extras from the other sections who believed they were superior to everyone else.

Fine. He could use another warm-up.

Noah launched into the skirmish, fast and sharp. He didn’t need to win; he just needed to maroon them here. He wasn’t going to waste his entire exam on glorified tantrum-throwers. He wasn’t that hot-headed anymore.

Okay. Maybe a little. But he was more refined now.

He’d just landed a solid hit when—

SKRAAAAAAAANNGGGGHH—

An ear-splitting shockwave tore through the arena.

Noah’s entire mecha shuddered. Lights flickered. Alerts flared red.

A flash of blinding white light exploded across the map.

Then—

BOOOOOOOM.

Everyone froze.

Then the dust cleared. And those who decided to hover to avoid the shaking ground saw it.

Not a crater. Not a collapsed structure.

A tunnel.

Carved through the heart of the artificial mountain, steaming and sparking at the edges, like someone had taken a driller and punched a direct route to the finish line.

Noah blinked. "What the—?"

But those watching from the outside already knew.

That wasn’t a natural disaster.

That...was Luca.

That C-class mecha had just created a shortcut and was rushing through it now.

Because the excited drill master, armed with a plasma beam and a kind face, knew exactly what followed an explosion in this kind of environment:

Utter chaos.

The shrieks came first—high-pitched and furious—as every single standby beast in the simulation roared to life like they’d been waiting for it.

Unfortunately for Noah, these beasts weren’t programmed to flee from sound.

No. They were programmed to hunt the source.

And Luca, bless his gleeful little heart, had just played their national anthem.

Within seconds, the arena turned into an apocalyptic jungle gym, swarming with bloodthirsty simulations that locked onto anything that twitched.

Noah stared at the beast stampede heading his way and whispered the words of every great warrior before him:

"Oh, fuck."

This chapter is updat𝙚d by f(r)eew𝒆bn(o)vel.com