The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1104: If It Happens Again

The sound echoed through the chamber, drawing immediate reactions from everyone present.

Several people flinched.

Others gulped.

Then came a moment of complete silence.

The unfortunate—or perhaps fortunate—individual responsible for that crunching sound stood frozen for a heartbeat before dramatically collapsing onto the floor.

Only for the crowd to suddenly erupt in what was a combination of cheers and questionable instigation.

"Again!"

"Next!"

"Hurry!"

The reactions came from every direction as people pushed forward to witness the spectacle for themselves. Some laughed. Others stared with unconcealed anticipation. A few looked ready to drag the next volunteer forward if necessary.

To say they were excited would have been a severe understatement.

After all, they only needed a single bite.

Yes. Just one.

That was all it took to render even the strongest among them weak in the knees.

Those who had yet to receive their turn might have suspected that the earlier reactions were exaggerated... but the Divine Heir knew better.

Because he had been the first person to end up flat on the floor.

The amber liquid alone had already left everyone questioning their previous understanding of life.

Not that they even consumed much of it.

In truth, after realizing how precious it was, everyone unanimously agreed that only droplets should be used. Even discussing larger portions sounded so much like treason they simply didn’t dare talk about it.

And yet, despite consuming amounts that would have seemed laughably insignificant in the past, the effects had been immediate.

People who had spent years staring into the distance with hollow eyes were suddenly debating storage procedures, security measures, and rationing policies.

But what did—in the Prince’s opinion—uncultured beings like themselves really know?

How dare they even assign value to blessings they barely understood?

Because if they originally believed the amber liquid had already shown them the limits of wonder, then they had been completely mistaken.

For the polished red treasure before them—and especially its combination with that golden nectar—was simply epiphanic.

The Divine Heir could think of no better word.

Although, to be fair, their collective enlightenment probably had as much to do with the images they had been painstakingly deciphering.

The scholars certainly seemed to think so.

Not long ago, most of them had given up on meaningful research altogether.

After losing contact with the culmination of their live’s work and what they believed to be their final hope, many had simply stopped looking toward the future.

But today was different.

Today, they were energized.

People who had spent ages merely surviving were suddenly arguing over interpretations, recording observations, and attempting to decode every scrap of information they could find.

Following the instructions had already allowed them to uncover remarkable things.

The bright red fruit, for one.

Its golden flesh hid beneath skin that naturally reflected light with a healthy luster...

Combinewith the contents of those precious hexagonal jars, and it definitely created an experience that many compared to breaking through a cultivation bottleneck.

The Divine Heir personally thought that comparison was surprisingly reasonable.

However, while everyone was still taking turns experiencing the fruit, a commotion suddenly erupted near the entrance.

Several scholars who had left earlier came sprinting back.

Not walking.

Running.

And judging by their expressions, one would think an army was chasing them.

"What is the meaning of this?" one of the attendants demanded as he stepped forward to block their path.

The scholars nearly crashed into him.

"Your Highness!"

Their voices sounded frantic.

Yet their faces looked far too excited for anyone to believe they were bringing bad news.

The Divine Heir narrowed his eyes.

"What is it? Speak."

At once, every conversation in the room died.

The people still waiting for their turn with the fruit stopped eating.

The people discussing security stopped arguing.

Even those still recovering from their first bite shifted their attention toward the returning scholars.

One of the older researchers stepped forward.

"It’s unusual."

The scholar looked like he was struggling to contain himself.

"Extremely unusual."

The Divine Heir waited.

"It doesn’t possess defensive spikes. It has no scales. There are no unusual protective adaptations."

The scholar raised a trembling hand.

"But this red thing truly appears to be a fruit."

"A fruit?"

The Divine Heir immediately straightened.

His arms, which had been folded across his chest, slowly lowered.

"If it’s a fruit, then are you saying—"

"There are seeds."

"!!!"

The room froze.

"Moreover, Your Highness, look at this!"

Another scholar hurried forward carrying a tray.

Arranged upon it were several carefully prepared samples replicating the images from the instructions.

"We attempted to reproduce the serving methods shown in the projection. We cannot guarantee that we’ve interpreted everything correctly, but there appears to be a relationship between preparation methods and life stages."

The Divine Heir stared.

"What?"

"Are you certain?"

The questions came from every direction.

"Then are you saying this can sustain our young?"

A heavy silence fell.

Nobody dared speak.

And even the smallest of movements pertaining to breathing ceased momentarily.

Their hearts pounded as they waited for the answer.

The scholar’s eyes had already begun reddening.

"We’ve analyzed the composition as thoroughly as our current methods allow."

His voice trembled.

"If the instructions have been interpreted correctly, then yes."

The tray shook slightly in his hands.

"Yes, this should be something we can feed to our young."

The words struck harder than any weapon.

Around the room, people finally inhaled sharply.

Others covered their mouths.

Several simply stared.

Because every person present understood exactly what those words meant.

Not just sustenance but a possibility of having a future for their next generation.

And for people who had long since wallowed in loneliness, forced to send their partners and children into a slumber they never knew they would wake from, there was simply nothing more ground-breaking than hearing that.

"!!!"

"Summon everyone you can who is capable of helping recreate the conditions needed to grow this fruit!"

"As for those who can’t contribute to that effort, focus on figuring out how to properly preserve these goods while the rest of us carve a path back to the gate above."

The Divine Heir’s gaze swept across the gathered crowd.

"If there is even the slightest possibility that another sale will happen..."

His voice lowered.

"Then we will be prepared."

Bodies straightened instantly.

And in a display that hadn’t been seen in a very long time, feet slammed against the ground in perfect unison with a resounding thunk.

"Yes, Your Highness!" they responded as one.

The Divine Heir thought it was certainly a great day to be alive.

What he didn’t know, however, was that the same realization was unfolding in places far, far beyond his own.

__

Others had been caught just as off guard as they slowly began to understand the significance of what had fallen into their laps.

In one place, the revelation was so profound that a Grand Patriarch who had long remained confined to his quarters managed to stand and take several steps on his own after getting a taste of what he felt must have been an elixir.

And so, if one group had already resolved to prepare for the possibility of another sale, then how could the others possibly do any less?

Therefore, across distant lands and isolated worlds, similar decisions were being made.

Because if there was even the slightest chance that the gate would prompt again...

Then they would be ready.

And they would be right there.