The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1170: The Correct Date

With the schedule already set, even more specific preparations were needed, and they went as follows:

Various members of House Mylor were busy preparing to support the star of the event, while Ollie’s siblings did everything within their power to condition their minds to avoid tackling him immediately upon seeing him.

Marquise Osmond Mylor, meanwhile, was working with the Imperial Family and House Nox to prepare a believable explanation for Zelunium’s existence, painstakingly crafting a narrative convincing enough that the public would simply accept the miraculous material as a legitimate, long-recognized discovery rather than ask the wrong questions.

If they were going to use this route safely, then it couldn’t look like their House had been keeping something so notable for something as insane as a possible insurrection.

Meanwhile, poor Owen was quietly convincing himself that indigestion, of all things, might just be how he’d meet his end, as he—whose experience was mostly with training simulators—desperately crammed legitimate mecha piloting techniques,

Then there was security.

The Imperial Crown Prince.

The Marshal.

The Kyros couple.

Minister Kordell.

Marquise Julienne.

Count Alexander.

Killian.

Even D-29.

One briefing after another was held to ensure the examination grounds remained secure from beginning to end, with contingency plans spawning contingency plans of their own until everyone involved felt as though they were preparing for war rather than a licensure exam.

But it wasn’t just the security teams. The staff, the Elders, and even the other cadets were equally occupied, working out how to keep the blonde supplied with enough snacks and proper meals throughout the examination.

Part of it, admittedly, was because Ollie seemed like the type of person who needed delicious food to thrive.

But more importantly, it was because of what their food would actually mean for him.

See, unlike Luca, whose abundant spiritual energy probably would’ve allowed him to stand vigil there indefinitely, Ollie was about to attempt something that would demand far more spiritual energy than he currently possessed.

So in that situation, every meal, every snack, and every carefully prepared drink could very well determine how long he could keep going.

Safe to say, for that very reason, Theo wasn’t faring much better. He was only a hair’s breadth away from losing his mind as he repeatedly employed his bloodline ability to assist in developing what could only be described as a growing collection of admittedly suspicious concoctions.

He volunteered for his friend, of course, but he should’ve expected something like this to happen when he saw the glint in the Elders’ eyes.

"..."

Anyhow... All those mentioned above were good and great, but perhaps the clearest indication of everyone’s collective distress...

Were the children.

Including one very tiny Queen Bee and a very colorful D-64.

After somehow concluding that the adults looked much too tense lately, they collectively decided to hold nightly song-and-dance performances for the benefit of their exhausted community.

It drew tears of appreciation from a heavily distressed blonde as he repeatedly told them that, had it not been for their performances, there was a very real possibility of only ever seeing the sky in his dreams.

Now, if that wasn’t enough to illustrate just how thoroughly everyone had been pushed to their limits...

Then nothing probably would.

Still...

Even storms eventually passed.

And beyond this one, something considerably brighter waited.

So, with equal parts anticipation and dread, everyone internally braced themselves for the long-awaited examination.

__

Well, at least internally for everyone the ever-so-external mop.

The rhythmic squeaking of boots echoed through the tense silence as a certain blonde cadet paced back and forth, his head bobbing with every anxious turn. There were only two actual people present, accompanied by two dungeon systems and one exceedingly well-hidden guardian mecha, yet somehow it felt as though dozens of eyes were fixed on him, unconsciously tracking his movements from side to side like spectators watching an especially nerve-racking sports match.

Ollie Mylor was pacing.

Because Ollie Mylor was anxious.

"Okay, hear me out..." he began earnestly, stopping just long enough to look around the room as though he’d genuinely stumbled upon a breakthrough. "Is there any chance... any chance at all... that we got the date wrong?"

Luca, being the dutiful brother he was, obediently looked down at his terminal for what had to be the fifth time before answering with sincere regret.

"I’m sorry, brother. I checked again, and it’s really the right date..." He looked up apologetically. "And the right time too. We still have about half an hour before you have to start."

The blonde visibly wilted.

His shoulders sagged, his complexion somehow turned even paler, and for one brief moment, he looked frighteningly close to becoming one with the floor.

Then, as if struck by divine inspiration, he abruptly straightened and raised a finger.

"The venue!" he exclaimed. "Maybe it’s the wrong venue!"

Unfortunately for the hopeful little guy, D-29 immediately projected a live feed from outside.

Every imaginable holobillboard had Ollie’s face plastered across it.

The production value honestly resembled promotional material for an interstellar idol group rather than an official licensure examination, making it abundantly clear that nobody on Planet Nova could possibly forget who was scheduled to sit for the highly publicized special mecha manufacturing licensure exam that day.

In other words...

They were at the correct venue.

On the correct date.

At the correct time.

Which unfortunately meant...

This was really happening.

Ollie’s large eyes visibly trembled as he struggled to remain strong in the face of what he firmly considered the greatest adversity of his life.

Honestly, this felt considerably worse than that unfortunate talent show incident where he sang with his whole heart, only to be unexpectedly greeted by the shattering of several supposedly reinforced windows.

Even to this day, that memory still left him utterly baffled.

But just when he thought that had already been bad enough, well, apparently, there was still this!

How difficult was it to be him?!

Almost sinking into great despair, it was then that he noticed Luca walking toward him.

Immediately, his eyes began trembling even harder.

Of everyone here...

It was always his good brother who cared for him the most.

Looking at Luca’s expression, Ollie became convinced he already knew what was about to be said.

His kind brother was surely going to tell him that if he truly couldn’t do it, then that was perfectly alright.

That they could simply skip the examination.

That he’d take care of everything afterward.

His wounded pride.

His shattered dreams.

His difficult future as a mechanic.

If others knew how he’d been reacting to stress, they would’ve gotten angry at him for being terribly dramatic. But even when Luca pushed him to his limits, he had always remained as his true ally, comforting him in his time of need.

His saintly brother hated seeing other people suffer, let alone him, and the blonde couldn’t help but prepare himself to burst into tears the moment those comforting words arrived.

Luca smiled a little too brightly, and at that point, he should’ve known better.

"It’s okay, brother!" he declared with complete conviction. "I promise I’ll guard the exit so you can’t run away and regret it afterward!"

Ollie froze.

"Even if you tell me to move," Luca continued passionately, clenching his fists, "I won’t give in! I’ll stop you from turning your back on all the hard work you’ve done!"

"W-what...?"

Luca looked even more fired up.

"I don’t know if I’ll be as good at encouraging people as you are," he admitted shyly, "but I promise I’ll cheer you on the same way you’ve always cheered me on!"

The blonde simply blinked.

His brain had apparently stalled all important functions.

Then, as though remembering something extremely important, Luca became visibly bashful.

"Oh!" he said. "I almost forgot!"

He scratched his cheek.

"I... I made you a signboard too."

"A signboard?"

"Yes!" Luca nodded enthusiastically. "Like the one you made for me before! I really hope you like it. I worked on it every night and tried my best to make it as nice as yours."

The blonde honestly couldn’t find a single word to respond.

He was so thoroughly stunned that even when the departure alarm sounded throughout the room, signaling it was finally time to head to the examination grounds, he remained rooted in place for several moments before walking absentmindedly.

Truthfully...

He was deeply touched.

Sure, it only came after being thoroughly mortified by the realization that he was going to be trapped with Luca of all people. But just as quickly as the tide turned, the easily influenced mop switched gears the moment he heard about Luca’s additional endeavors.

A specially made signboard?!

The only thing occupying his mind now was trying to calculate exactly when his brother had found time to make something like that after spending every waking hour grinding away inside the workshop with him.

It was an incredibly touching realization.

Though...

While Ollie was busy drowning in brotherly affection, one unwilling witness to every ridiculous event leading up to this point had reached an entirely different conclusion.

Sid, the great guardian mecha, was genuinely beginning to think all the extensive security preparations might’ve been unnecessary.

After all...

What was the point of deploying such stringent security measures when the little Master could single-handedly generate enough scandalous material with nothing more than cardboard, markers, and frighteningly sincere intentions to distract every potential threat in the vicinity?

He wasn’t so sure.

At the very least, he could take comfort in the fact that, in his case, showing moral support wouldn’t involve sitting there for a quick and admittedly painful association.