The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1169: Fever Pitch

Clearly, many threads were destined to converge on that fateful day, and across the known universe, anticipation steadily reached a fever pitch as people waited impatiently for the official announcements regarding the long-awaited licensure examination.

Star Net, for one, simply refused to shut up about it.

It didn’t matter what time zone one happened to be in. Somewhere, someone was always enthusiastically adding their two cents, ensuring that discussion surrounding the upcoming exam remained at an all-time high.

Master mechanics and their counterparts from every corner of explored space were no better, either. They could all be seen talking nonstop while scrambling to rearrange schedules, delegate responsibilities, and flee their own workshops with alarming efficiency, all in hopes of extending their stay on Planet Nova for as long as humanly possible.

The reason was rather simple.

Luca Kyros’ previous examination had caught everyone completely off guard. And they could only blame themselves for being caught unprepared.

Because before they could even process what was happening, they’d already been dragged away from the precious specimens they longed to dissect with every fiber of their being, the entire ordeal ending long before most of them had become psychologically prepared to let them go.

This time, however, they intended to make absolutely certain history wouldn’t repeat itself.

Some had gone so far as to rent entire plots of land from the Military, establishing what they generously referred to as temporary research stations that suspiciously looked permanent enough to outlive several regime changes, all so they’d have somewhere close to their next object of study.

Luca, meanwhile, could only stare in complete disbelief.

He genuinely couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly rent one of those absurdly expensive plots.

Only...

His expression changed abruptly upon remembering that the piece of land in question belonged to his husband.

Which, by extension...

Also belonged to him.

The little chipmunk immediately gasped.

This strange new form of tourism was actually adding to their questionable retirement fund.

Sure enough...

He’d been absolutely right to insist they rent out the ten-billion-Star-Coin plot first!

That way, people would eventually move on to leasing the even more expensive ones.

"..."

"..."

Right...

Moving on to other understandable news...

As the examination drew ever closer, reports also surfaced that Master Quinn had developed the curious habit of hiding in increasingly dubious places in an effort to avoid several particularly persistent fossils whom he repeatedly insisted he’d never once encouraged.

Not even a little.

He made a point of emphasizing at every available opportunity that he’d done everything within his power to dissuade certain lunatics from making spectacularly questionable life choices, but to no avail.

Then again, perhaps it was simply a common affliction among mechanics suffering from excessive stress.

Because elsewhere, Instructor Roland Moore had reached the point where he genuinely wanted to change his name altogether.

That, as of today, he was from the Planet of who-knows-effing-what.

The examination hadn’t even begun yet, and he already had no idea what awaited him.

The student in question hadn’t attended class in what felt like an eternity, and while outsiders repeatedly told him not to look a gift horse in the mouth and simply accept the praise coming his way, Moore honestly wanted to ask whether they’d volunteer to stand in front of the reporters instead.

After all...

History was currently recording him as the instructor whose two freshmen had somehow been selected by the coalition of master mechanics themselves to sit for specialized licensure examinations.

The only problem...

He’d barely taught either of them.

Frankly speaking, he was certain he wouldn’t even be able to perform half of what they had been casually demonstrating.

So exactly how was he supposed to answer the endless stream of reporters lining up outside the academy wanting detailed commentary on his brilliant teaching methods?

Who wouldn’t be stressed under those circumstances?

Thankfully, Instructor Falco understood his predicament all too well.

Nowadays, the two had quietly developed a system of giving each other advance warning whenever suspicious-looking reporters or overly enthusiastic mechanics wandered into their vicinity, allowing them to flee with practiced efficiency while silently praying that, somehow...

Some way...

Ollie Mylor would pull through.

Because at the moment, hopes and prayers were honestly the only teaching materials they still had left to offer.

__

Now, to be fair, said blonde had genuinely been trying his best.

Because with the unnecessarily kind strong-arming of his sworn brother, anything less than his best would’ve simply gone in one ear and out the other.

And the witness to such shenanigans? None other than Kyle of House Nox.

The tears.

The snot.

The dramatic declarations about running away from home, only for Ollie to wander back less than a minute later because he’d forgotten his signature fuzzy slippers.

The equally dramatic plans of retiring the moment he obtained his license. Like immediately after obtaining his license. And the ever-lengthening letter he said he needed to write in case he didn’t make it come exam day.

In such desperate times, some might’ve assumed Kyle had been the least occupied of all, especially with Luca and Cece practically barricading themselves in the workshop with the soon-to-be examinee.

But that assumption couldn’t have been further from the truth.

If anything, Kyle had somehow become the lifeline keeping his little star from completely imploding, indulging every reasonable and unreasonable request alike if it meant reducing Ollie’s stress level by even one percent compared to five minutes earlier.

Honestly...

This licensure examination had taken an entire village.

Short of his back giving out, even Minister Kordell found himself growing increasingly nervous over an examination he wasn’t even personally taking.

There was simply too much happening all at once.

Everyone’s nerves were stretched so tightly that even the Aerun twins’ latest attempt to stir up public attention over Star Net barely registered on anyone’s list of priorities. Killian certainly didn’t have the time, and neither did the rest.

They had considerably bigger problems to worry about, and in the grand scheme of things, they were simply not as important as they thought they would be.