The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 861

Chapter 861: Vasodilation, But Make It Spiritual

Son of a gun—!

Minister Kordell Nox almost sputtered it all out when he heard what the elders were saying after they’d already taken a big gulp of the apparently ground-breaking medical tea.

Could they not have said something a little earlier?

Even just a small warning. A footnote. A gentle heads-up that something inside his body was about to be fundamentally renovated.

Well, they could have tried to explain. But what would be the use of all that?

Unbeknownst to him, the full explanation wasn’t something most of them could have properly understood at their current stage anyway. Moreover, who knows what kind of garble their words would sound like to so many people with varying levels of cultivation?

Then again, maybe they would finally realize that the lack of clearer instructions was not truly the elders’ fault, considering they were already doing their best to explain while carefully skirting every restriction they could manage.

Because at this very moment, nobody was in any state to contemplate unfathomable theories or ancient cultivation logic.

They had far bigger problems.

Namely, the very noticeable widening of their spiritual pathways.

It was especially obvious the newer someone was to the dungeon space. And unfortunately for the Minister, he fell squarely into that category.

So much for vasodilation for blood vessels.

This was the kind of widening where someone had shown up inside his body with heavy construction equipment and decided that today was the perfect day for emergency road expansion.

Where there was none, suddenly there was one. That kind of thing.

And now, Kordell finally understood why they had been asked to sit so far apart.

He needed to lie down.

No, correction. He needed to lie down yesterday.

His back was still technically working, but his body was sending very firm suggestions that sitting upright was no longer an appropriate activity.

And strangely enough, what his body wanted most was not panic, not screaming, and not even cursing the elders.

It wanted a nap.

A deep one.

Which was absurd, really, considering that it felt like an entire construction crew was still hard at work inside him. But somehow, the sensation was also... relaxing.

Unsettlingly so.

It was like falling asleep to the sound of distant machinery. Loud enough to notice, but soothing in a way that made resistance feel pointless.

Just as his eyes began to droop, they were told to keep sipping.

Every last drop.

Apparently, it was crucial to their development.

Kordell lifted the cup again with the air of a man reconsidering the possibility of just paying fines. He wouldn’t normally do such a thing but his insanely heavy eyelids despite all the caffeine he had consumed that day was goading him into peaceful submission.

But then he heard it.

Bloodline abilities.

And the precious tea nearly shot out of the poor Minister’s nose.

__

Apparently, what happened to the Nox patriarch wasn’t an isolated case.

Moments before such a bomb, one Imperial marshal had similarly been fighting a losing battle against gravity itself.

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