The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1318: Illegal to Dream

Well, to be fair, this wasn’t entirely Battalion 8’s fault.

They hadn’t gone looking for another main objective.

After completing the first extraction, they’d deliberately taken the opportunity to rest, recover, and avoid exposing even more of the rather concerning gap between most cadets and Xavier Montclair.

Despite all the speculation surrounding someone who had supposedly come from a modest noble family, the media had never really been given enough access to Xavier to scrutinize his every movement.

The same, however, couldn’t be said now that he was responsible for commanding a battalion of hundreds of cadets.

There were simply too many people around him, watching what he did and how he made decisions. If Xavier behaved too unconventionally or displayed far more experience than someone his age and background should reasonably possess, he might end up attracting the kind of attention he didn’t need.

Thankfully, the presence of a certain mop made disappearing into the background considerably easier.

Oliver Mylor was already far more recognizable than Xavier Montclair, and between his newly acquired mechanic license, increasingly questionable mecha piloting, and general tendency to attract attention simply by existing, most people naturally found themselves looking at the blonde instead.

So Xavier had been perfectly content to let that continue.

For the most part, he’d kept a relatively low profile while fulfilling his responsibilities as Battalion Commander and quietly attending to something considerably more befitting his actual position as Crown Prince.

He was headhunting.

Four hundred ninety-nine cadets from various divisions had been placed directly under his command, after all. What kind of future Emperor would Xavier be if he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to observe which of them possessed talents that might prove valuable to the Empire someday?

Unfortunately, his peaceful attempt at laying low didn’t last very long.

Because one of the devices Ollie had modified according to Xavier’s specifications suddenly intercepted what appeared to be the mecha communication channel of a nearby senior battalion.

Initially, there was nothing particularly concerning about it.

The listening device, which had already surprised several of Battalion 8’s aspiring mechanics with its capabilities, had primarily been designed to detect potential ambushes from as far away as possible. So when they picked up the seniors’ channel, Xavier simply had them listen long enough to determine what the other battalion was planning and adjust their own movements accordingly.

Perfectly reasonable.

Perfectly harmless.

Until, for reasons nobody could’ve predicted, several senior cadets suddenly started talking about something that certain members of Battalion 8 found

"..."

And just like that, several people who’d been perfectly content to rest a moment ago became very, very fired up.

__

"Worse comes to worst, we’ll just approach those first-year cadets," one of the senior voices drawled over the intercepted channel, followed by a light burst of static. "Beguiling them is a completely valid strategy, right? They seem way too nice for their own good, so maybe they’ll just hand over an objective or help us get one."

A handful of scoffing laughs immediately followed.

It was probably said in jest, born from exhaustion, stress, and the mounting irritation of imagining certain first-year battalions seemingly cozying it up while were being pushed this far simply because they didn’t have any insane outliers on their team.

"Shit, we’re already doing pretty well," another senior cadet chimed in, leaning back inside his cockpit. "But unless we somehow produce children with those crazy elites, our houses might seriously be stuck where they are forever! Obviously, we all knew there were much stronger people out there, but you actually see them for yourself and suddenly you start praying you’re good-looking enough to be liked."

"Hey, aren’t some of those punks married already?" someone asked.

"Yeah, and so what? I’m even open-minded enough to go for the Orcs. Besides, if there’s a will, there’s a way, right?" the first senior replied shamelessly. "That cutie pie future duke was willing to marry some cadet from a much lower noble family, so he must be at least a little open-minded. It’s not like I’m asking to be the main squeeze, either. I’ll be fucking happy on the side!"

"Are you insane?! Do you have a death wish, talking like that?"

"What? Since when was it illegal to dream? And sure, they’re into each other right now, but with our life expectancy, what makes you think there won’t be another chance eventually? If anything, I think I can be patient!"

That immediately earned him a round of laughter from the others.

Patient?

"Besides, I’m kidding!" the senior insisted with a laugh. "If I actually wanted a more realistic chance, I’d ask my sister to go after that kid from House Taylor. That second son of House Nox isn’t available anymore, but Taylor’s still unmarried, right? He seems pretty agreeable."

He thought about the remaining possibilities for a moment.

"We could always go for the other two members too, but they look way too serious to hang out with. Wouldn’t I be the one suffering in the end?"

Several of them laughed at what, despite the ridiculous subject matter, was apparently just a casual conversation among friends.

"..."

"..."

Unbeknownst to the seniors freely running their mouths, the people listening on the other end had already gone completely rigid.

Xavier didn’t yell.

He didn’t make a dramatic scene or even say a single word.

He simply stood there in absolute, terrifying silence.

His jaw clenched hard enough for the muscle beneath his pale skin to twitch, while his gloved fingers slowly curled into fists. Thick veins stood out along the backs of his hands and disappeared beneath his sleeves as he forced each breath into something measured and controlled.

From the outside, Xavier looked almost unnaturally still.

But the suffocating menace steadily spreading through the room made it very clear that did not mean

Beside him, Ollie had been practically aghast throughout the entire conversation, his mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief at the audacity coming through the receiver.

Ada wasn’t doing much better.

Her expression had turned frighteningly cold, and the wind-laced spiritual energy beginning to stir around her made it look as though she was already considering how hard she could pummel someone without technically violating the Imperial laws.

Especially after hearing that even the Orc Princess hadn’t escaped those people’s loose tongues!

Strictly speaking, nothing the seniors had said was illegal.

They were running their mouths, making tasteless jokes, and discussing ridiculous things they probably had no intention of actually attempting.

Unfortunately...

Someone had talked about

And somewhere around the words and the Imperial Crown Prince’s remaining sanity quietly snapped in two.

Without a single word of explanation, Xavier turned on his heel and headed straight for the hideout’s exit.

"...?"

Ollie’s head slowly followed him.

Then his eyes widened.

Because apparently, Xavier was about to conduct a major clean-up of his own, one in which he would personally ensure that every single attempt at an objective made by those seniors would be graciously handed over to

Xavier’s expression grew even colder.

The livid husband drew in a slow, freezing breath.

At that precise moment, the Crown Prince really, wanted to exercise his Imperial prerogative.

__

Then again, Xavier Solaris, Ollie, and Ada weren’t the only ones incensed by what they’d heard!

Sure, the other illegal spectators hadn’t caught the conversation live. Most of them had been too focused on Battalion 10, who were currently celebrating their successful extraction with a full-blown salvaging party before finally heading back to rest.

But the moment certain family members caught up with what had been said, including the Imperial monarchs themselves, several people were out of their seats in a heartbeat!

Still, out of all those illegal spectators, there was one and a half...

Or, considering Isabelle’s current size, perhaps one and a literal third...

Who seemed particularly shaken by the whole thing.

See, Killian Nox considered himself a fairly objective and levelheaded man.

Or at least, that was what he’d like to believe.

But somehow, hearing someone make ridiculous declarations of fake love toward would’ve been considerably easier to tolerate than listening to some idiot casually suggest getting that redheaded rascal to marry into someone else’s family.

The mere insinuation felt like someone was trying to stab Killian’s brains right out of his skull.

Apparently, the emotion was strong enough that even little Isabelle, who had absolutely no idea what had been said, had started making soft, defensive hissing noises simply because her Dada was suddenly angry.

"..."

With nowhere reasonable to redirect his rapidly rising temper, Killian crossed his legs and leaned farther back into his high-backed chair.

His eyes remained fixed on the feed showing the unassuming source of his current irritation.

Jax was grinning brightly.

The redhead looked infuriatingly cute and approachable as he laughed and celebrated with the rest of Battalion 10, completely unaware that somewhere not so far away, someone had apparently started considering his potential value as a marriage prospect.

Killian’s expression darkened.

"You kept complaining about wanting to go back," he muttered under his breath, staring at that wide, cheerful grin. "And now look at you, smiling like that..."

His eyes narrowed.

"How could all those flies look?"

The Chief of Staff sank even deeper into his chair, his fingers tapping out a sharp, progressively irritated rhythm against the polished surface of his desk as he wondered just how ludicrous it was that he was somehow getting antsy with Jax over any of this.

Wasn’t it everyone else’s problem for daring to use their eyes?

Thankfully, no one could hear a certain someone’s increasingly unreasonable thoughts...

Meanwhile, on the second screen beside him, a replay of Xavier’s cold-blooded carnage continued playing in complete silence.

"..."

Killian watched it for a moment.

Then his fingers stopped tapping.

Perhaps the Crown Prince had the right idea.