The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 1170

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 but 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.

Huhuhu!

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