The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 332

Chapter 332: Abilities

While the others worked out a rough system to farm the deathworm materials back at the barren lands, two mechas peeled away from the group, heading toward the edge of the grasslands.

The Duchess took the lead.

Her borrowed mecha, while initially unfamiliar, now moved with the grace of someone who knew how to tread lightly even in the worst terrain.

But the grasslands weren’t the same as they had been mere hours ago.

And had it not been for the familiar, dome-like features that remained above them, she would’ve thought they’d been transported elsewhere.

Where before there had been soft, dry moss and patches of gnarled roots, now the land looked severely overturned, practically unrecognizable.

Thick networks of roots, once hidden safely underground, had been wrenched up by the chaos. Twisting masses of dark tendrils blanketed much of the land like a suffocating net, of which some pulsed faintly, while others lay limp like severed limbs.

And beasts roamed in confusion while those that didn’t quite escape the roots lay crushed beneath fallen debris.

The Duchess couldn’t help but frown at this.

She had fought among these lands for years, but she had never seen the grasslands look like this.

It was unnerving.

It wasn’t just the monsters anymore. The land itself felt like it had turned hostile.

They had to move carefully.

Every thruster push needed to be measured and gentle to avoid awakening the thing that slumbered at the heart of this devastation.

But even as they tread carefully, a deeper worry gnawed at her.

More than just being careful now, the Duchess realized that they didn’t have the luxury of time to gather their strength and prepare.

There was no safe area to hide in, and the enemies would only get stronger as they adapted to the increased energy and rank.

Just like before.

Only, they’d be far stronger this time around.

They needed to get out of this dungeon as soon as possible.

But first, they’d have to get to their destination.

Assuming, of course, that it was still intact.

However, the Duchess wasn’t only aiming for the liquid but also for information.

For one, she wanted to see if it was safe for those youngsters to come back to the grasslands. But more importantly, she dragged Butler Gary to get the information she needed.

She had questions, but while she could ask them herself, they were questions that may or may not be demoralizing.

So, once they had a clear stretch of ground with minimal root coverage, she opened a private comm line.

“Butler Gary,” she began, her voice calm but edged with quiet tension, “I need you to answer something for me, honestly.”

The older man, piloting the secondary mecha just behind her, answered immediately.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

She hesitated a beat, then asked, “What’s your assessment of their combat abilities? As much as I would love just to test them myself, we don’t have the time or the resources to do that.”

The experienced Butler didn’t flinch from the question because he, too, understood the unspoken weight behind it.

But this one was surprisingly not difficult to answer because nearly everyone had the same opinion.

“Stronger than you’d expect, Your Grace,” he said, a note of quiet pride in his voice.

The Duchess arched an eyebrow inside her cockpit. “Oh?”

“They’re not your standard cadets. Lord Xavier and Kyle not only maintain top ranks, but they also have enough military mission hours to pass as seasoned soldiers.”

“If anything, these two have spent more time with the military than in the classroom.” He added, voice steady as he described what they also recently learned.

She had noticed their movements earlier and the unnerving nonchalance about their situation, considering their age.

It spoke of experience. And it was impressive.

But also deeply unsettling.

It was a good thing for them to get that much experience this early. But somehow that meant the Empire wasn’t doing as well, enough to send such youngsters to battle.

“And what about my son?” she asked quietly.

Here, Gary’s voice softened in a way Amelia wasn’t prepared for.

“Our Young Lord is…exceptional.”

There was pride there. And something deeper—an awe that couldn’t be faked.

“Considering everything he’s been through,” Gary continued, “and everything we just learned about his past…I have a newfound appreciation for his accomplishments, Your Grace.”

“Despite the obstacles, despite everything against him, he consistently placed among the top. He gained his mecha piloting license, his mercenary permit, and his combination piloting certification—all as a freshman, and on his first attempts.”

The Duchess could only listen, stunned silent.

Even without the full support of his background, even after everything—

Luca had thrived.

Those were definitely solid achievements to be proud of. But knowing how disadvantaged their Young Lord was when he started surely changed things up.

For even with that handicap, he managed to get to where he was now. And Butler Gary, felt proud to be serving such a Lord.

“There were detractors, of course,” he said, his tone turning dry, “but none could deny his results. And while the other slept, the Young Lord managed to achieve all that while establishing the Empire’s most sought-after businesses.”

“Truly exceptional…” muttered the awed mother.

He trailed off for a moment, as if trying to find the right words.

“Ah! But there is one other reason to trust these young lads, Your Grace.”

“Hm?”

“It’s their mecha. You may not know it yet, but not only is the Young Lord a talented pilot, but he’s also a talented mechanic, like Lord Ollie.”

Amelia’s chest tightened slightly. “What?”

She knew Luca was talented—different—but hearing it from someone so trusted grounded the truth in a way that hit her harder than she expected.

“He’s also fixing mechas?!” she pressed, surprised at the additional information.

“Not just fixing them, Your Grace. He’s building them. And D-29 isn’t even your typical build. That one is what they call a biomecha.”

Butler Gary, continued to describe how D-29 came to be, and by the time he finished, the duchess was left stunned.

Her heart clenched with a strange mixture of pride and guilt.

Pride, because her son had survived and thrived despite everything.

Guilt, because she hadn’t been there to see it happen. Nor did she even contribute anything to his learning.

“He’s grown so much…” she whispered, more to herself than to the trusted Butler.

But instead of remaining down, the Duchess decided that if there was nothing she could teach him, then she would just be the one to ask for guidance.

The older man, ever tactful, simply said, “He’s someone worth following, Your Grace. And he has good people around him.”

The Duchess exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

Good. And she had been right to ask. As the good Butler even thought of sweetening the deal by informing her about the videos he had collected of the young heir.

It was like hanging food in front of the hungry. And was an effective carrot to ensure survival as they reached the mouth of the cave, which looked as intact as it could be.

Still promising

That meant they had work to do.

And if she did it fast enough, then she could see those glorious videos as soon as they were done.