The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 619

Chapter 619: Another Legend

Well, if cores could still think and talk, this one would’ve already begged for a ceasefire.

In fact, it would’ve wanted nothing more than to conjure up a giant white flag and wave it desperately.

But no.

There was no escape from this madness.

The terrible pint-sized being in front of it didn’t seem to think it was enough.

What kind of tyranny was this?!

An Umbral Skyhunter.

Correction. The Umbral Skyhunter. A legendary sky beast whose regal form once ruled the corrupted skies. When it wasn’t cloaked and poised for attack, it could only be described as majestic—a creature of pure poise. It had looks, it had fame, it had power. It had it all. Even in death, it remained a proud being.

But what was this? What was this madness?!

While one SS-grade beast core shook in distress upon seeing a totally different scene from a different point of view, one dungeon owner—the same, golden-eyed tyrant—could be heard repeatedly asking, "D-29, do you think this is enough respect? Should we show more?"

He asked it innocently, almost earnestly, like a student double-checking his homework. But if he had spared even a single glance at the onlookers—who had already fled to the farthest corners of the arena—he would’ve realized the obvious answer.

No. Please, no more.

But Luca Soren Kyros believed turning away from an opponent was disrespectful. Which meant all his attention was now locked firmly on "respecting" the poor, trembling beast core.

Effective? Oh, it was effective. Far too effective.

Because nothing could be more persuasive than taking out the core and enveloping it in pure, unrelenting spiritual energy.

It wrapped so tightly, so completely, there was nowhere for the poor thing to disperse the pressure. It was like being suffocated with reverence.

Luca did have one concern, though. He realized belatedly that he hadn’t asked how to tell if the beast core was actually willing to work with him now. Should he increase the pressure? Should he pour more energy into it?

But before he could decide, he noticed something.

The core had stopped moving.

"Oh? Is it maybe alright now?" he asked aloud.

Apparently, it was. More than alright, even.

Because this time, instead of twitching, instead of rattling, instead of making a break for it, the once-proud Umbral Skyhunter’s core lay completely still in his hands. Quiet. Subdued. Docile.

After all, what was pride when survivability was on the line?

And that was how Luca Soren Kyros, pint-sized dungeon owner with sparkling golden eyes, conquered his very first SS-grade beast core.

Meanwhile, the onlookers who had plastered themselves to the walls of the arena for safety couldn’t believe the intensity of that spiritual ability.

Luca having an unusual rating was not new to them, because who could ever forget the inconclusive rating he got from the simulation?

But that was endurance. This was different.

This was the first time they were seeing him actively use this much spiritual energy for offense. And it was impossible to forget.

Knees weakened and minds blown, The people—both fortunate and unfortunate enough to witness the scene—couldn’t help but share it with everyone.

That was how another legend was recorded in Duke Leander’s carefully curated list. Only, he was saddened by the fact that he had not been able to see it himself, as he had been busy attending meetings in the military headquarters.

But what could one guardian mecha do when art was subjective?

Therefore, Sid had trained himself to accept it. He could overlook how Billy the Buck was drawn with such a flair for the supernatural that an exorcist might need to be consulted. But that was Billy’s problem.

And so the guardian mecha had stayed quiet about it. Not intending to make a mountain out of a molehill.

However, Sid’s problem came when he accidentally stumbled upon a drawing and asked who it was supposed to be.

D-64 buzzed happily around him.

It was him.

According to D-29’s painfully unhelpful translation of D-64’s delighted chirps, the mecha with the strangely-colored head and mismatched colored legs was meant to be him.

Surely not. Surely he wasn’t destined to look like three mechas smashed together in some kind of fever dream.

But then Luca asked him what paint he preferred. And whether he had suggestions. And Sid realized, with the kind of horror only a sentient mecha could know, that this was his future.

Thankfully, he had managed to steer his little master away from disaster. But what if Luca’s hand slipped?

That was the terrifying thought Sid carried as he stood there, waiting for the final verdict.

If anything went wrong, he could always remain slightly invisible.

Yes, that was a plan.

He’d just remain invisible for years to come!