The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 495: The Brats

But to continue to be good in that department, the Imperial Crown Prince must ensure the required body parts stay attached to him.

And that means dealing with this shit storm.

However, to the surprise of the problem-solving prince, before he could even take the first step toward damage control, his terminal chimed—not just any call. A priority call. One that could not be ignored.

He sighed, shoulders squaring as though stepping onto a battlefield.

Haaa...Here we go...

Father," Xavier answered, voice level, "you called?"

Silence greeted him at first. The kind of silence that meant someone was struggling not to flip a table in a room full of witnesses.

On the other end, the Emperor—his father—was clearly deciding whether to be Emperor or Father first.

Unfortunately, indecision was still a decision, and his son was not the sort to let the silence stretch.

"If this is about the Orc King," Xavier began smoothly, "please have them decline his proposal as courteously as possible. His conditions are...impossible to meet."

And even if there was a way to fulfill it, he wouldn’t even attempt such a feat, not when he had Luca to think about.

He was certain, thought the prince as he maintained the spiritual barrier around his sleeping wife.

Another silence. But then—

"I didn’t even have to."

That brought Xavier up short.

"Huh?"

The Emperor’s voice came low, heavy with a mixture of disbelief and suppressed exasperation.

"Because, when we got there, apparently, your sister ’took care of it.’"

Xavier blinked. "...Excuse me?"

"Even now, we’re not sure what possessed her, but when none of the trained soldiers and diplomats could resolve it, your sister exhausted herself ensuring the entire ordeal was cut off before it could escalate."

He dragged a hand across his face, his tone gaining momentum now that the dam had cracked.

"But what I want to know is why she was that adamant. Because when asked? The normally honest little girl would curl up like a ball to roll away, refusing to tell anyone about her reasons."

Xavier remained perfectly silent, perfectly calm—a fact that only seemed to infuriate the Emperor further.

"Do you know how she did it?"

"I saw the footage afterward. It seems she used up every ounce of courage she had for the entire year."

The Emperor let out a long-suffering sigh that no doubt rattled the gilded paneling of his office.

"I’m sending you the recording. Xavier—"

The Emperor’s voice sharpened, parental worry turning to a frustrated growl.

"—You’d better have an acceptable explanation for this. Or so help me, you won’t be seeing daylight for a long time."

"I understand, Father," Xavier said simply. "And I do. I’ll inform you when the time is right."

That earned him a strangled sound of utter paternal disbelief.

"The right time? You’d better rush to it, boy. I’ve tolerated your methods so far, but your mother? Not so much. Not when she’s now suspicious that your sister knows something she shouldn’t. Your mother is only being lenient because she realizes that whatever stunt you’re pulling is what’s kept you and your uncle alive this long. But even she has limits. And as for your sister? Fix her mood. She’s insisting on going to Planet Nova."

"Have Lord Killian escort her, Father," Xavier replied blandly.

"Killian? What does he have to do with this?"

"He would be the best fit for this."

A long pause.

"...And that’s all you’ll say?"

Xavier offered the faintest ghost of a smile, though his tone stayed neutral.

"This is currently the best way."

"You’re impossible!" the Emperor finally roared. "Bold as brass and twice as infuriating! Do you ever—"

Xavier cut him off, still calm.

"I apologize, Father. But please, tell Mother I wish her good health as well. We’ll see you at the Guild Expo."

"We?"

"Yes. We."

"...This child! I swear you’re going to be the death of me!"

"I wish you a very long and healthy reign, Father."

And with that, the call ended.

The Emperor sat in stunned silence, staring at the now-dark terminal.

"...This boy."

"Frustrated?" came a cool voice. The Empress, who’d been standing there all along, glided forward, expression faintly amused as she reviewed a dossier.

"You don’t know the half of it," he grumbled. "Is it karma? I wasn’t this bold when I was his age, was I?"

"Surely you jest?" chuckled the amused Empress.

Then in the same breath, she raised a brow and deadpanned.

"You were. The difference is he’s found a pack of equally unhinged children to enable him."

"...Even our daughter knows them," he muttered.

"Well enough," the Empress replied. "Well enough to cry herself hoarse and risk her neck for them."

And as the Emperor threw his hands skyward in helpless exasperation, she added softly, though with the faintest curve of her lips—

"He takes after you."

The Emperor could only groan, pressing a hand to his temple.

"And that," he muttered darkly, "is exactly what worries me."

"But I believe if there’s someone to be worried about, it’s your daughter."

"Because who takes on the Orc King at the tender age of six?"

Princess Gianina Theron Solaris, apparently.

Back in her gilded room, Imperial Princess Gianina lay dramatically across her fainting couch like the tragic heroine of one of her picture books.

She felt faint. Positively faint.

She had used up everything she had—her courage, her tears, her very tiny but very mighty lungs. But at least...it sort of worked.

Well... she hoped it worked.

Maybe.

She wasn’t completely sure. But at least the Orc King had walked away without ever speaking to her Mother or Father, and that was already a big win. Because what if her parents had agreed with him?! Then she’d really have to pack up her stuffed animals and run away to Planet Nova in protest.

It all started when she saw Sir Killian failing spectacularly at convincing the big, scary, angry Orc King.

And Mama always said: "If someone’s bullying you—or anyone else—you say so. Don’t just stand there like a tree stump."

So she didn’t.

With her little back straight, her tiny fists clenched at her sides, and her short legs waddling as elegantly as possible, she marched out to the edge of the big crater where the Orc King was glaring at everyone.

She didn’t climb down—it was a very deep crater, and besides, she didn’t want to have to crane her neck all the way up when she was already so short. From up here, at least she could kind of look him in the eye.

The Orc King blinked in surprise when he saw her coming. His glare softened slightly—but not much. Even furious Orc Kings knew better than to swat an Imperial Princess. Especially one that could fit in their pockets.

But then she stopped, planted her tiny shoes firmly on the ground, and looked up at him with the most serious six-year-old expression she could muster.

And then...the tears started.

"Did you even ask Princess Kira about this?!" she cried, her voice wobbling but loud enough to echo across the crater.

The King blinked.

"I see her all the time, you know! And she loves love and romance, and she would never say yes to this!"

But more than that, she was sure that Princess Kira did not like cheaters. So, how would she feel about having to break apart people who were already married?!

The onlookers around the crater started to fidget uncomfortably as she continued, full throttle now, her hair swishing with every word.

"And you! Would you even be okay if your daughter stopped talking to you?! If she came home and never smiled at you or hugged you again?!"

That got a few murmurs from the crowd. But she didn’t stop.

Then her little brow furrowed. Princess Kira once said Orcs weren’t really big on hugs and kisses like humans were; their courtship was even different. So what would work for her father would likely not work for King Garick.

Change of tactic.

Her little fists trembled.

"What if she stopped punching you?!" she demanded, her voice cracking. "What if she just stood there and let you hit her?! And—and WORSE! What if you gave her weapons and she just...gave them back?!"

A horrified sound escaped King Garick’s throat as her words sank in. Clearly, she knew his daughter.

That was when she knew she had him.

"So, Your Imperial Highness really knows my daughter, Kira?" he finally asked, his big voice booming but confused.

Nina’s little hands flew to her hips as she huffed indignantly.

"Yes!" she shouted, her golden eyes still brimming with righteous tears. "We’re close! And she’d probably blame it all on her father for deciding things without even asking her!"

Her tiny stomp for emphasis practically made the audience flinch.

For a moment, the crater was quiet except for her sniffles.

Then, finally, King Garick let out a long, heavy sigh. His giant shoulders sagged as he regarded the tiny, tear-streaked princess standing there like she owned the place.

"...Fine," he said at last. "Imperial Princess Gianina, I will heed your advice. I shall see her as soon as possible... and I will tell her what you said."

Gianina sniffled again, straightened up, and pointed at him with one tiny, shaky finger.

"Please do, King Garick. And... and tell her... I miss her!" she declared, with what she hoped was a Very Heroic Fighting Stance.

King Garick solemnly nodded, then turned and stomped away with his adviser.

The crowd let out a collective breath.

Butler Henry was already moving before she could fall over entirely, scooping her up into his arms as she wilted against his chest like a tired kitten.

The littlest diplomat had done her duty.

From the side of the crater, Killian was already typing frantically on his terminal, firing off distress signals to his deadmeat little brother.

"You better figure something out, you little shit!"

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