The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 297

Chapter 297: Classification
Never again.

After that fateful mistake, she sure has learned her lesson.

It had started with good intentions.

A likely culprit and the closest she’s ever gotten. There was no doubt she’d be tempted to explore traces of these anomalies.

So, when the opportunity to seek answers came after years of getting nowhere, she jumped at the chance to look for trends. Because sometimes, rare patterns meant rare answers.

And answers…well, she was still looking for one in particular.

She’d approached, blade drawn, but paused. It didn’t even take that long, just enough to take a closer look to see if this creature might carry a few clues with it.

It was not the first time she paused in battle.

It was, however, the last time she allowed herself to hesitate.

However, fate didn’t seem to favor her in this regard, and it was then that she first discovered the effect of additional entities in this thing called a ‘Dungeon.’

She hadn’t even had time to blink before the system cheerfully informed her that all her progress had been undone.

So, yes. Never again.

And she’d been fateful in just going straight for it.

So, how was it possible to fail at this fight four times in a row?!

Was she cursed?!

She had been so close, only for this to happen again. But she knew better now than to wait for this remodelled monster to come out.

And so, as the growls echoed once again, she bounced—vanishing into the fire-choked halls as the dungeon roared back to life behind her.

To be completely fair, this one had started, of all things, with a D.

No, not that kind of D, but one that came with an odd-looking beast and a place full of grass.

This place was initially classified as D, a rating that none of them set, but was just prompted by a mysterious entity that she’s grown to be too familiar with.

As a D-class Dungeon, it was a field full of docile creatures, rolling plains, and the kind of energy signature so unthreatening it might as well have been a farming simulation.

But as every noble knows, the softer the invitation, the sharper the knife.

Right now, she would welcome a D with open arms. And if one of the children of their house had brought home a D on their school assessment? Excellent. At least they were breathing.

Because right now? Facing an A…felt personal.

If B-class had her and her comrades in such conditions, then A would be less of a difficulty rating and more a death notice.

In fairness, the crisis had started with her own miscalculation. She’d own that. She always did.

But this level of escalation? And this timing?

She’d like to believe that the dungeon wasn’t merely punishing her but really rubbing it in.

They’d just been about to clear the dungeon again—reclassified to C-rank after the last reset. She and the two others had cornered the boss, their footing steady, the room calibrated.

And then came the prompt.

[NEW CHALLENGER DETECTED.]

Fine. Annoying but manageable.

But then—another one. And that was supposedly hell-raising but not impossible.

But this? An A?

Was she being told to give up?

But to begin with, would she ever listen?

Who was she kidding? She’d keep on doing this even if she had two fewer limbs.

So maybe it was time to check if she could forcefully lower the calibrated level of this dungeon.

__

Somewhere else, under warped metal and caved corridors—

Luca and the rest of the party managed to regroup in what appeared to be the former cargo hold—except the walls no longer looked like metal panels.

Instead, they glistened slightly, pulsing faintly with an eerie light. The material warped into a strange fusion of steel and something far too organic.

It didn’t feel like a room.

It felt like a lung.

Xavier kept his back toward the entrance, gaze sharp. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Before anything else, Sid was activated to perform an environmental scan, which was redone by D-29, who sputtered through the haze of errors it had to deal with since earlier.

“Host! Atmospheric conditions are…surprisingly compatible with human respiratory ranges,” D-29 reported, still stunned.

“However, energy saturation is imbalanced. Immediate area’s toxin levels are minimal, but pollen density is high. Recommend protective gear for extended exposure.”

“Pollen?” Luca thought about just how much flora was out there for the pollen density to be so high. But then again, if Xavier hadn’t asked for this, he would’ve forgotten something critical.

Even after two months, Luca was still not used to space travel and would always forget that just because he could get there, it didn’t mean it could sustain life.

So, the little learner decided to take note of this terrible habit for later improvement. After all, he now had to face the reality that he couldn’t always depend on his dungeon for everything.

For what if he couldn’t access it during critical moments? Just like now.

Thankfully, his friends had habits that allowed them to have things without solely depending on the dungeon space.

Like Butler Gary’s ability to heal Kyle with the portable medical device he’d been lugging around since earlier. It was compact and multifunction, and right now, something that had practically paid for itself threefold over the past eight hours alone.

Truly a good investment that the little money grubber could probably consider. Probably.

The butler was efficient in caring for Kyle, afraid that he’d start growing flowers or something if that wound wasn’t dealt with as soon as possible.

“Sit still,” The temporary medic instructed sharply.

“Sorry,” apologized the adjutant, who had gotten distracted by what he was seeing before him.

“This place is…changing fast,” he muttered. “I could swear the floor was still scorched metal five minutes ago. Now it’s sprouting moss.”

They all looked down.

The change was subtle but real. Metal plates were warping, the seams blending into one another. Pale green tendrils crept from corners and cracks like the ship was being slowly digested into the environment.

“Whatever this dungeon is, it’s reclaiming the wreck.” Kyle frowned. “Don’t leave gear on the ground. Anything you want to keep, keep on you.”

Luca’s hands immediately went to his space button, checking his remaining inventory.

His heart sank.

He still couldn’t access his dungeon space.

That meant his stockpile—most of his healing pills, spare energy sources, food, and everything stored within his personal space—was currently inaccessible.

“Oh no,” he muttered.

“I’ve still got some supplies,” Butler Gary said calmly. “But we spent most of the good ones on the hostages.”

“Brother, me! I’m not sure if it’s enough, but I, well, I have stocks,” Ollie piped up, suddenly hesitant. After all, he was going to sound like a hoarder. But what could he do?

But if there was one thing he felt proud of, He held up a tightly sealed pouch with a triumphant little smile, clearly thanking his past self for this advanced thinking.

Ollie had revive pills, two of them, in fact.

But more than that, who knew just how many items the mop had to carry with him to feel considerably safe?

A ton.

Apparently.