The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 293

Chapter 293: Veeka
The corridors were anything but quiet.

Every few minutes, the heavy thud of boots echoed down the halls as another pirate—kicking, swearing, or limping—was dragged out and deposited in the ever-growing line of prisoners waiting to be interrogated.

After the main hostage crisis was resolved, Duke Leander took command with the calm authority that brokered no questions.

And it was then that these people remembered Duke Leander’s reputation.

“Split them by quadrant and start clearing the rooms,” he’d ordered, voice steady as steel. “No one leaves until this entire ship is clean.”

And they listened.

Even now, Luca stood just behind him, watching in muted surprise as a brutally efficient full perimeter sweep was being carried out.

Jax, Kyle, and Xavier moved with clinical purpose, rounding up anyone that D-29 had tagged.

The pirates, of course, didn’t know what had happened in the passenger lobby. They hadn’t seen the earlier carnage or the corpses of their alleged mates.

They hadn’t watched Luca taking a weapon from a distance, nor did they know that the people with explosives had long gone without anything detonating.

No, these pirates only saw clean uniforms, youthful faces, and soft expressions. And like many fools before them, they mistook appearance for weakness.

“You lot look like you’ve never even fired a weapon,” one of them sneered, spitting to the side. “This is what the Empire sends to deal with the Ravagers?! All glass and no guts?”

Another laughed. “Bet you bleed like the rest of us. Let’s see if you cry, too.”

Mockery.

Spite.

Arrogance bred from ignorance.

That was until the Duke moved.

He didn’t shout. He didn’t argue.

He simply lifted a hand, his fingers moving ever so slightly—then flicked.

Spiritual energy lashed out in a form akin to a piecing bolt.

Three pirates screamed as their legs were struck in precise, bone-shattering arcs. They dropped instantly, howling, clutching their limbs.

The others froze.

The Duke hadn’t even blinked.

Neither had the rest of the cadets flanking him.

Only Ollie might have reacted—but he was still on post-cuddle duty somewhere in the lobby with the kids and Butler Gary.

To those who had fought earlier, the display barely warranted a reaction. If anything, it was almost nostalgic.

It was like a calm hello—after all, they were still alive.

But to the pirates who hadn’t seen what came before?

It was a divine reckoning.

Duke Leander lowered his hand, inspecting his gloves as if mildly inconvenienced. Then, he spoke again.

“I asked nicely earlier,” he said, tone cool. “This time, I won’t pretend I need all of you.”

He glanced down the line, eyes glinting.

“I only need one or two with working mouths. The rest of you can go rest forever.”

The silence that followed was crushing.

Then—

“I’ll talk!” one of them blurted, elbowing another aside.

“No, wait—I know the drop point!”

“I’ve got the account numbers!” someone else cried.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to be the most cooperative pirate on board.

Killian, watching from the rear, gave a low, approving hum.

“Efficient,” he muttered.

Jax, next to him, nodded. “Better than truth serum.”

And just like that, the interrogations officially began—with less resistance and far more desperate eagerness.

Sure enough, that was much more effective as they managed to glean a few things about this supposed job.

Obviously, not as much as they would’ve if they’d gotten their hands on the leaders, but they preferred knowing something before facing them.

Just like Ollie mentioned, they were looking for a beast, but to everyone’s surprise, no such target was on board.

However, that was only for everyone but Ramir, who knew that no beast would actually be found.

Saying that there was a spiritual entity was a come-on for the rigid Veeka, whom he knew was desperate.

While the real goal was to get paid to scare off people by spreading how they could be terrorized just because that blasted guild existed.

It was a backdoor arrangement that even Veeka and the other sub-leaders didn’t know about.

But how could they when Ramir made this deal in exchange for giving him a venue to stage his coup?

After all, what could the others do when only his chosen people would return after the mission?

The betrayed was learning the gruesome truth as Ramir toyed and beat her, the restraints ensuring that every single hit would damage her already banged-up body.

She winced as another blow hit her ribs.

Veeka coughed—sharp and wet—and felt the tug of her restraints cut into her already-swollen wrists.

Ramir’s boots clacked softly across the metal floor as he circled her like a wolf around a broken hare.

“This is your fault,” he muttered, voice high with glee and shaking tension.

“You and your loyalty. Thinking our crew was still about rules. Still about Zahkar.”

Veeka didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

Not because of the pain, though that wasn’t insignificant.

But because she was reeling from the realization that this mission—this nightmare—had never been about a target. Never about a beast. Never even about the money.

Ramir hadn’t wanted a payday.

He wanted a throne.

And this hijacking? Just a stage.

Worse, even if she participated in acting in this, there was no beast to take back for their leader.

He leaned down and grabbed her chin, yanking her face toward his.

“I knew you wouldn’t go along with it. That’s why I kept it quiet. That’s why I had to make sure you couldn’t warn Zahkar.”

“You bastard,” Veeka rasped, blood pooling in her mouth.

Ramir laughed, drunk on power. “You’ll be the perfect scapegoat. The face of the Ravagers’ fall from grace. A tragic second-in-command who betrayed the dying captain.”

He let go of her, letting her head drop forward.

“You’ll be a warning. And me?” he said, almost lovingly. “I’ll be reborn.”

What an idiot, Veeka thought.

What a flaming, star-sucking idiot.

But even if he were a galactic idiot, Veeka would likely end up dead.

And many would argue that she’d deserve it.

Regardless of how the mission turned out, Veeka still walked in willingly and boarded a civilian ship, which allowed Ramir to stage a hostage situation.

However, across the corridor, one little system had notified its host of what lay ahead.

“Host, there is a critical drop in the vitals of one of the pirates in sector 4,” D-29 chimed.

They practically flew over to the sector only to see what had become of these supposed comrades.

Veeka was on the ground, wrists bleeding beneath restraint cuffs. Her uniform was torn. Her breaths came in ragged heaves. And Ramir—Ramir had his boot against her chest, a bloodied blade held aloft with something like triumph.

He turned to them with a twisted grin.

“I wondered when you’d show—”

He never finished the sentence.

Duke Leander appeared behind them—faster than any of them expected—and moved with precision.

No theatrics.

No speech.

Just a simple, devastating strike.

D-29 thought this was surely the way to go, as the villains in the dramas always perished because they had so many things to say before they finished the main characters.

The moment Ramir lifted the blade higher, the Duke’s hand flashed out. Spiritual energy arced through the air like a whip.

The blade went flying.

Ramir blinked, stunned. He didn’t even get a full breath before the Duke’s boot connected with his sternum.

He hit the wall hard. Then the floor. And stayed there, groaning.

Luca—who’d just gotten over the horror—watched in mute awe as his father calmly straightened his coat.

Then, the amazed son decided to clap, just like he had after seeing the earlier techniques.

“Technique Nine,” the Duke said lightly.

Luca stared. “Wait, that was Nine, Papa?”

“Mm. Eight was last time.” The Duke brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder.

But Veeka was too out of breath to celebrate or to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

She lay still, bloodied and gasping, staring up at the people now standing in a semicircle over her.

It was clear as day. She was at their mercy.

But still, she spoke.

It was do or die, anyway.

“I’d like to offer you a deal.”