The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 862

Chapter 862: Smooth Faces, Rough Consequences

There were many ways to wake up after a long night. But waking up on the ground, using grass as a mattress, with the lingering remnants of a deeply questionable intoxication was not exactly the first choice of most sane individuals.

And yet, come morning, that was precisely how a group of not-so-sane individuals found themselves rising from what might have been the best sleep of their lives.

They stirred slowly, blinking against the light, bodies reluctant to move. Sleep had always been good in the dungeon space. That much was known. But this time was different.

They woke with glowing skin.

With clear minds.

With clear paths.

As in, clear, clear.

Their bodies felt so clear one would have thought that something similar to atherectomy was performed for their spiritual pathways. Then again, it also couldn’t just be that. Because all of a sudden there were just more pathways in places that they never thought would exist.

So naturally, the question arose.

Just what in the world happened while they slept?

Killian Nox stared blankly into the distance as consciousness finally clicked into place.

The usually razor-sharp chief of staff lay there for a moment longer than necessary, grappling not with strategy or schedules, but with a deeply irrational thought.

He should dig this ground up.

Specifically, this exact patch of grass.

If possible, he would like to relocate it directly to his cabin.

Because that had been the best sleep he had experienced in years.

He wasn’t even that old. and yet it felt like that had been his best sleep in decades and he hadn’t even been alive for three of them.

Damn.

The last time he had slept even remotely this well was when he ended up sleeping for days in the dungeon space but that had a lot to do with how long he slept back then.

This, however, was different.

It was shorter than his most recent stay in the medical bay, yet he felt lighter. Sharper. And oddly enough, he felt extremely porous.

Not the kind that people usually avoid, but the kind where he felt like his entire body was breathing in and out. Like it wasn’t just his lungs carrying that burden anymore.

Reborn was a strong word.

And yet, it was also the most accurate way to describe what he was feeling.

As Killian finally pushed himself upright, memory rushed back in.

Not just the tea that sent him to dreamland.

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