The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 822

Chapter 822: When Strength Meets Design

Reeve couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Actually, no. It was more accurate to say that he couldn’t believe what he wasn’t seeing.

Just how fast were those sticks falling?!

The first one had been expected because they heard that sticks would be falling, sure, but even so, it still felt like a shock when it actually happened.

Fwip!

The sound was sharp and sudden, cutting through the stillness of the dome that resulted from people’s curiosity.

They wanted to see what it meant to choose games based on their strengths.

But they didn’t expect to see this kind of strength.

A single stick dropped from above, moving far too fast to be reasonable. See, Reeve was a civilian. And he could only pray that the falling stick was falling like that based on a personalized calibration.

Surely they can’t possibly expect everyone to be able to catch any of that, right?

Because really, that was the kind of speed designed for monsters who lived and breathed combat and not someone whose steps were mainly earned by walking from the office down to the mail room.

The crowd collectively inhaled. But even that was several beats later than the man they were watching.

Duke Leander moved.

There was no buildup. No adjustment. His body reacted before thought could even form. One moment he was standing there, still looking slightly dazed and wounded in spirit, and the next his arm snapped up with terrifying precision.

Clack.

The black stick was caught cleanly.

And just as it was clasped, the color shifted from black to green as if registering success.

That alone should have earned applause.

And really, they would have, people had even been prepared for it.

But before anyone could even do it, the machine was at it again.

Fwip. Fwip. Fwip.

No.

They weren’t simply dropping anymore.

They were raining down.

Several more sticks shot down from every direction, forming a brutal storm around the Duke. They came from all angles, in front of him, from behind him, from the sides, some shaking at the connection before delaying the fall as if mocking anyone foolish enough to rely on patterns.

One flashed red mid drop.

Gasps broke out.

The red stick struck the ground untouched and instantly turned green, harmless now but proof of how unforgiving the game truly was.

Duke Leander didn’t spare the fallen stick a second glance.

His hands moved in a blur. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Two. Five. Eight.

Green lights kept flaring again and again as instinct took over. He twisted, stepped, leaned, and pivoted with the smooth lethality of someone who had survived real battlefields.

To think this was without spiritual energy or enhancements.

Probably just instincts, awareness, and experience honed through war.

The moment several sticks in his hands turned green, a chute slid open before him.

He threw them in without looking.

Clack. Drop. Fwip.

More fell.

More were caught.

His expression had changed completely.

The sulking, defeated Duke was gone. In his place stood something colder, sharper, and terrifyingly focused. This was the man who had once been called a war god, moving as if the world itself had slowed down for him.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify