The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 500: Disclaimers

The freedom to make informed decisions for herself.

But how would he know that when even the Princess was primarily focused on staying where she was happy?

However, King Garick, the father who knew his daughter to a great extent, was sure that something was brewing beneath all the great food and spiritual enrichment he was receiving.

After all, they were Orcs, and they would always give as well as they received.

Hmmm...

But how expensive would this be when the show wasn’t even done yet?

And if the others could hear the King’s thoughts, they’d probably agree, as even Jax, an experienced host, was somewhat nervous.

Because what if they had riots after this?

But he just shook his head. Kyle said that if they had violent reactions, it would be best to inform them about the shop immediately!

Although with just one hundred tubs available, on a first-come, first-served basis, won’t he be mugged like this???

He would.

He should’ve known.

Because he should’ve disappeared when the first cry of pain echoed.

Obviously, the reception for the frozen treat was stellar.

And this time around, because of how small it was for all these people with bottomless pits for stomachs, Jax had meticulously reminded them to take it slowly.

For one, they might get brain freeze and panic, but really, it was more because if someone blinked, the "small" serving would be gone, and someone might seriously start a manhunt. However, he also didn’t miss the significant bit about how ice cream could melt, so they couldn’t marvel at it for so long the same way they marveled at the breadsticks.

The guests were somewhat alarmed, but most people looked over the King, who probably needed to be reminded again, but which brave soul would do it?

Well, none other than his daughter, of course.

"Father, for the dessert, you have to make sure you cut it into parts the moment you see it. It’s the only technique that worked for me."

"Why?"

"For your peace and sanity, Father."

But the warning wasn’t enough.

Dozens of eyes fixated on the small, unassuming bowl placed before the closest noble. Inside, three perfect scoops of what they called ice cream sat nestled together. One was a soft blush pink, another was a pale creamy white, and the last one was rather brown.

It looked glossy, and the person closest to it was sure that it was cold.

For people who had never seen ice cream before, it looked less like food and more like forbidden magic.

The nobles weren’t moving. They were just feeling for each other as the bowls for each person kept coming.

Inwardly, they wanted to see how others would tackle this, considering the warnings but were surprised because the cadet motioned for everyone to look over as he ventured to take the first step for the wary nobles.

Meanwhile, as Princess Kira thought how smart Jax was to volunteer for a job that would give free dessert, one brave soul finally reached for the spoon, fingers trembling as though he was about to commit some terrible sin.

The first bite rose from the bowl, thick and velvety, and the mist followed it like a ghost.

The room held its collective breath.

And then, in one final, silent moment...he tasted it.

The tiny spoon disappeared into his mouth.

Silence.

At first, there was nothing.

Then his eyes widened—just slightly at first, then fully, until they seemed to take up half his face. The color in his cheeks rose like a sunset as his jaw slackened.

A strange, almost pitiful sound escaped him.

"...ah."

And then he dropped the spoon.

Both hands clutched his chest like he’d just been stabbed. He staggered back a step, knees buckling, a long, shuddering gasp leaving his lips.

" Wha-what is this?!" he whispered hoarsely, "...the depth..."

He fell to his knees.

Around him, gasps broke out like ripples in a pond.

A woman clutched her necklace. "Is it really that good?!"

Another man lunged at his own bowl, shoving it into his own mouth—only to let out a strangled cry of his own.

"By the stars!" he choked out, tears already pricking the corners of his eyes.

He fell forward onto the table, face buried in his arms, shoulders shaking as he tried to control himself.

Chaos erupted.

One by one, they scrambled for spoons, each one desperate for a bite, only to dissolve into groans and dramatic gasps the moment the bite touched their tongues.

One man simply slumped back into his chair, arms limp at his sides, whispering in utter reverence:

"How is this even possible?!"

Another shouted, voice breaking, "How long did we live without this?!" before stuffing another spoonful into his mouth as though his life depended on it.

Someone in the back actually fainted.

The humans looked funny.

King Garick couldn’t help but think that as he watched them throw away their dignity for this.

His gaze swept the room of nobles, now reduced to groveling messes over dessert, then landed on his daughter, calm and collected despite the chaos.

"Is this... safe?" he muttered gruffly, lowering his voice as though afraid the bowl might hear him.

Princess Kira didn’t even glance at him as she cut cleanly through her own pink scoop and murmured, "Definitely, Father."

That was...not reassuring.

Still, he was Orc King Garick, and no frozen treat would unnerve him. He picked up his spoon, scooped a bite of the brown one—chocolate, they called it—and placed it in his mouth.

At first, nothing.

Then...

His reason snapped.

His pupils dilated. His hands trembled. And in the next moment, he reached into his ceremonial robe and pulled out their tribe’s heirloom—a centuries-old preservation talisman glowing with ancient energy.

With one smooth motion, he slammed it onto the table next to his bowl and began channeling spiritual energy into it.

"This must be preserved," he growled, his voice low, almost reverent. "We must take this back to the tribe. We cannot lose it. We cannot risk... losing it..."

The glowing lines of the heirloom lit up brighter and brighter as though even it was shocked by the task at hand.

But before the channeling could be completed, Princess Kira’s hand shot out, clamping down on his wrist.

"Father."

Her tone was firm but respectful.

He froze, startled enough to actually stop channeling.

"I tried that already," she said coolly, as though she hadn’t just caught her father mid-spell. "It doesn’t work. Not on this. It...melts."

Garick blinked. "Melts?" he repeated, almost scandalized.

"Yes," she said patiently, cutting into the green scoop this time. "And it’ll taste different if you try to preserve it. It’s meant to be eaten here."

Her words struck him like a hammer to the chest.

Their sacred heirloom couldn’t preserve...ice cream?

Unthinkable.

"Then how—"

Kira cut him off with a faint, faint smirk. "Don’t worry, Father. They have something else for that. Something made just for this. You can ask about it later. But for now..."

She raised her spoon gracefully, her eyes gleaming in the light.

"Your Majesty, it’s best to appreciate it while it’s here. Before it melts."

And just like that, the King’s spiritual pressure faltered, his heirloom dimming as he lowered it back onto his lap.

He stared down at his bowl, now seeing it with entirely new gravity.

Around them, her words rippled through the room like a divine decree.

The humans—all those nobles—stiffened and gasped as they realized with horror what she meant.

It was melting.

Every faint shine of dew that pooled on their scoops was like the ticking of a doomsday clock.

Spoons scraped faster now. Bites became more urgent. Fear mingled with bliss as everyone savored every spoonful while trying desperately to outpace the creeping catastrophe of melting ice cream. To think it wasn’t even melting that fast, but the nobles wouldn’t believe such reassurance. A possibility was a threat.

Even Garick found himself eating faster than intended, every glance at his bowl more desperate than the last.

And all because of a dessert.

But even as the nobles devoured the last precious bites of their ice cream, a new tension began to swell in the room.

The moment their bowls clinked empty, heads started to turn—not toward each other this time, but toward Princess Kira.

Low murmurs rose like a growing tide.

"The Princess said...there was something else for it, didn’t she?"

"She’s a member of DG...she must know."

"She must know how to get more..."

Dozens of eyes now fixed squarely on her, glittering with a mixture of hope, desperation, and the kind of hunger no meal could fully satisfy.

And she did know.

Of course, she did.

She sat calmly, spoon set neatly on the edge of her plate, her back straight and her expression unreadable.

She knew exactly what they wanted.

Even the King—who had just finished scraping the very last trace of chocolate from his bowl—now turned to his daughter, his sharp gaze narrowing with the unspoken question: Well?

Kira’s eyes flicked toward Ada, and with the smallest of gestures, she tilted her chin.

Ada caught it immediately and gave a subtle signal across the room.

Jax, who had been leaning casually near the projection screen, straightened at once. His signature grin slid into place as he stepped forward, clapping his hands once to gather everyone’s attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began smoothly, his voice cutting through the low hum of restless whispers. "If you enjoyed what you just experienced...allow me to formally introduce the latest updates to the DG Sponsorship Shop."

A hush fell instantly. And it sure marked a moment of pride and heartbreak.