The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 1181

Chapter 1181: Cracks in Their Confidence

Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, the ones who adjusted their thinking the fastest weren’t Star Net’s countless self-proclaimed experts and overly certified keyboard warriors.

Instead, those who managed to pull their heads out of their asses were those who weren’t even watching within the confines of the Empire.

Like those scattered in their respective research and engineering departments for the sole purpose of noting anything and everything down.

One such group was the unusually silent bunch who were thought to have run away with their tails between their legs.

In an undisclosed facility maintained by the Federation, a specially assembled team of countless scientists and mechanics sat before enlarged holographic projections, their discussions growing increasingly heated as they tried to make sense of what they were witnessing.

"Are we sure there’s even a point to analyzing this?"

"What if they’ve decided to let him make a fool of himself just to waste our time?" one perpetually exhausted materials engineer grumbled, pointing accusingly at one blonde cadet’s workstation. "I mean, just look at what he’s doing!"

Several of his colleagues didn’t even bother responding.

Instead, they turned toward the impatient heir of the Federation, the very person who had barged into their departments days ago demanding that every researcher intending to still be breathing by the end of the day divert their attention toward monitoring the movements of a single freshman from the Empire.

Naturally, they’d resisted.

As the Federation’s foremost scientific minds, they found the order ridiculous.

How could they possibly be expected to halt their own projects just to watch an Imperial Special Licensure Exam centered around one mere cadet?

At the time, however, they still had intense censorship to thank for that confidence.

It wasn’t until the technicians originally assigned to discreetly repair the damaged cybernetic implants brought back by the Federation’s delegation finally broke their silence that the truth began to emerge.

The innovations they had always taken such pride in had been thoroughly outclassed by the very same group responsible for today’s licensure examination.

Silence settled over the room.

For decades, if not longer, the Federation had proudly believed its technological superiority over the Empire was beyond question. They had poured immeasurable resources into scientific advancement and innovation, firmly convinced that no one else could rival them.

After all, with everything they had sacrificed in the name of progress, how could anyone truly compare? If others weren’t willing to keep moving forward despite the necessary costs for the sake of the eventual greater good, then how could they ever hope to match the Federation’s dedication or achievements?

Apparently, though...

They had been arrogant.

Because the more the technicians explained, the harder it became to maintain that belief.

Those dazzling demonstrations during the Imperial parade?

They hadn’t been mere spectacle.

The currently rioting researchers simply hadn’t been there to experience the overwhelming spiritual pressure for themselves, so they’d dismissed it all as little more than fanfare.

Worse still, so consumed by their own work, they’d had little reason to follow developments beyond their field. They hadn’t realized that by the time recordings of the Empire’s sparring matches finally reached the Federation, the footage had already been heavily edited.

Naturally, their leaders couldn’t conceal the Empire’s rapid rise in strength, or even their side’s momentary loss.

What they could do, however, was ensure their own people wouldn’t be that privy to just how thoroughly they’d been outmatched.

Every exchange in which the Federation’s forces had suffered a decisive defeat had been carefully removed, retaining only the parts where defeat could be interpreted as a close call.

Thankfully, after the parade, they’d decided to tighten their control over the news and broadcasts reaching the general public once they’d gotten the first inkling that things weren’t looking particularly favorable for them.

Knowing that cutting off the flow of information would result in even more questions, their best bet had been to delay the already limited news and censor as convincingly as possible.

The stopgap had worked for the most part. But the fact that they had to do it at all felt like an even stronger slap to the face.

Naturally, President Alaric Veyra was stern when he warned everyone who had returned in defeat, saying there’d be no third chances.

Cassian remembered that humiliation vividly.

It had long since been carved into his memory.

Which was why if these stubborn, thoroughly spoiled researchers refused to cooperate again, he honestly wouldn’t have been above threatening them at gunpoint until they did.

Surprisingly, he never had to.

He didn’t even have to level them with one of his usual glares because the same miserable people who had resisted him just days ago suddenly began reacting all on their own.

The first to move was a scientist who had spent nearly the entire broadcast rocking back and forth in his chair while absently rubbing his knee, looking as though simply being forced to attend this meeting had pushed him to the edge of a breakdown.

Then he stopped.

Completely.

His eyes locked onto the holographic projection before he quietly asked, in a voice that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in ages, "What is that?"

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