The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 309

Chapter 309: Wordless
Somewhere, a few people were experiencing a tingle in their noses, an odd sensation for people who could easily get treated by medical pods.

But if there was one more creature who should be feeling this odd sensation, it would have been the beast that started this all.

It began with a tremor.

The group that had been diligently filleting their newfound treasures stopped their assigned tasks.

It wasn’t anything unusual at first.

What followed was.

A wave of heat. Then the scent of scorched blood, thick enough to overpower the already heinous smell of so many monster carcasses.

While most pilots shouldn’t be privy to this information, D-29’s sensors pulsed with escalating danger as it followed Princess Kira’s scent theories.

And so they had been warned even before the beast emerged from the ridge.

At first glance, it didn’t seem like much. Small. Wiry. But then the scans came in, and the little system called out the odd escalation.

And it was still climbing.

The creature had gorged on dozens of fallen beasts, devouring their cores with grotesque hunger.

With every gulp, its body mutated: bones spiked through flesh, a second jaw split from the first, and glowing slits formed along its flanks like breathing vents for heat dissipation.

Its eyes locked onto them.

Then came the roar.

And it charged.

D-29 reacted in terror, launching skyward with a thruster burst. Luca gritted his teeth, fingers steady on the spiritual interface.

“Plasma blade—extend,” Luca ordered quietly, mentally syncing.

The weapon burst to life in D-29’s right arm, a curved blade of golden light vibrated as it hung waiting.

He brought it down as the beast leapt upward—and missed.

It twisted unnaturally midair, spine contorting, then struck D-29’s flank with enough force to send them skidding across the jagged rock surface.

“Host!” D-29 cried out. “Energy shielding at 64%!”

“I’m fine,” Luca grunted, adjusting his breathing.

But he could already feel the feedback—the beast’s attacks were too precise. It had adapted not just physically, but strategically. It had begun mimicking their patterns.

Then the monster’s limbs reconfigured.

Two of its claws split into sharpened prongs. Crystalline plates began forming over its shoulders, refracting the sun’s rays into focused beams of heat.

It wasn’t just evolving.

It was weaponizing.

Luca’s hands clenched.

“Luca, we’re coming in—flank position in twenty seconds!”

“No,” Luca said, firm and clipped, his voice steady despite the storm building inside him. “Stay back.”

“But—!”

“I think this one has mutated too many times and too fast. It’s unlike the other beasts we’ve fought so far,” he said, eyes locked on the rapidly adapting creature now digging claws into the ridge wall.

“What would help is if you could take as many of the cores off the ground. We need to make sure this one doesn’t get to eat more.”

“For now, I’ll try something, hopefully with this I can catch up with him.”

Inside the cockpit, golden light flared at the edges of Luca’s eyes as his spiritual energy poured outward, syncing faster and deeper into the mecha’s core.

The interface stopped feeling like buttons or controls. It felt like muscle and nerve.

A heartbeat.

[Manual piloting disengaged. Spiritual override accepted.]

And the mecha moved again.

They were one.

Suddenly, the mecha moved faster.

It became an extension of him—bone to metal, breath to thruster.

They clashed again.

D-29 weaved beneath a tail whip, swung low, then cleaved upward, carving through the beast’s lower jaw. But it wasn’t enough.

It healed.

Fast.

The beast retaliated by slamming into D-29’s midsection, pinning it down, screeching as it tried to tear open the cockpit hatch.

Luca’s eyes glowed faintly with golden light.

Butler Gary stared from a distance, clearly seeing the difference in the way their Young Lord piloted.

Luca drove the knee plate into its ribs. A flash of silver light burst on contact. The beast reeled.

But he didn’t stop and clashed again.

If they only saw this, they wouldn’t be able to associate this terrifying calm with D-29’s panicked movements from earlier.

There was no hesitation, and when the creature lunged, Luca dropped, drove D-29’s arm blade into its underbelly, kicked off, spun midair, and struck again.

The core flickered inside the beast’s chest.

But just as the beast swayed, Luca’s vision blurred.

The spiritual mecha pilot inhaled sharply, acknowledging that something was wrong.

He had been highly dependent on the use of spiritual energy as he took control of the mecha.

But the dungeon’s energy was replenishing him too quickly. His body couldn’t adjust. His circuits overloaded with spiritual feedback.

His head pulsed, and the mecha staggered, only managing to stay up because D-29 suddenly got hold of the reins back.

Inside, his body surged with power—but it had nowhere to go.

Golden light cracked at the edges of the cockpit.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

“…I feel dizzy.”

“Host—spiritual output surging—”

Luca didn’t even get to see the beast dropping, as he himself collapsed while D-29 tried keeping everything inside.

The little system had seen this before.

His host needed the benefactor.

Now this, minus the part about Luca fainting, was something they could explain to the three women demanding an explanation.

But they couldn’t get more than that.

And all that Duchess Amelia could do was stare at that other mecha, who was sealed so tight, she wondered if her boy could breathe in there.

However, there was no need to worry about Luca’s ability to breathe, as this was practically the only time it was easy for this overheated guide.

Inside the cockpit, Luca was curled up on Xavier’s lap, arms and legs wound tightly around him like a sleepy serpent clinging to a glacier.

“Sid, shut down internal monitoring.” Ordered Xavier, who had a hand on Luca’s cheek as he checked on his state.

The guardian mecha knew better and shut off everything that connected him to the cockpit.

Now, if anything exploded in there, then good riddance; he was not part of it. Thank you very much.

“I remember telling you to stay safe, Luca,” Xavier muttered, brushing a strand of damp hair from his wife’s face.

“Hnnng.” The little guide whimpered, burying his face against Xavier’s neck, limbs refusing to let go of the gloriously cool presence beneath him.

Luca’s breathing was still unsteady, and his body still hummed, like it was pressurized with every pulse.

The little guide was burning up from the sheer amount of bottled energy that whirled around him with nowhere to go.

Because Luca hadn’t let it out, not even towards Xavier, who could’ve helped him with it.

This became obvious to the prince, who had anticipated it, only to end up with no sudden surge of energy.

His hand smoothed over the back of Luca’s head, fingers brushing against his soft yet heated skin.

“Luca,” he said softly, as if afraid to startle him. “You’re holding it in.”

A murmur. A breath. No words.

Luca clung tighter.

His limbs had gone limp from exhaustion, but his spirit—his core—was tense. Shuddering with every heartbeat.

“You need to let it out,” Xavier said gently.

Luca flinched as his eyes misted over. It wasn’t just exhaustion—it was fear. His lashes trembled, his expression unfocused, but tears welled at the corners of his eyes like a child too overwhelmed to understand why he was crying.

But Xavier knew.

He cupped Luca’s face, thumbs brushing the flushed skin beneath his cheeks. “My love,” he murmured, “I can take it. I promise.”

Luca’s lips parted—but no words came.

Not when their mouths became too busy to say anything else.