The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 941

Chapter 941: Have You Heard

"Yooo! Man! Have you heard—"

"Heard what?!" a suddenly curious officer asked, already leaning in.

"Ahem."

Marshal Julian appeared like he’d spawned straight out of a shadow. The two unsuspecting soldiers nearly collided as they snapped to attention, parting so fast it looked like someone had set them on fire.

"Marshal!"

They saluted so hard that one of them almost smacked himself in the face.

Only then did they dare glance up.

And immediately wished they hadn’t.

The man looked like he hadn’t slept in a year.

Which was startling, considering that just a week ago, he had looked so suspiciously rejuvenated that people couldn’t help but assume he had found the fountain of youth.

But now?

He looked like all that youth had filed a formal complaint and left.

Yikes.

The only logical survival tactic was to salute and run as far as humanely possible.

Unfortunately, before either soldier could initiate their escape, two firm hands landed on their shoulders.

"And where," Marshal Julian asked softly, almost pleasantly, "do you think you’re going?"

It wasn’t loud. Not exactly angry.

No. It was worse.

It was ghostly.

The kind of tone that crawled straight up the spine and built a home there.

The two soldiers froze.

Sweat beaded instantly at their temples.

"N-nowhere, sir!" one of them croaked.

"Just, uh, routine patrol, sir!" the other added, looking like he was actively fighting for his digestive system to cooperate.

Marshal Julian’s gaze flicked between them.

"Have you seen Deputy Officer Curtis?"

The question landed like a grenade.

The two soldiers wanted to scream that, of course, they hadn’t.

Except they had.

Well, not directly.

But it wasn’t like everyone didn’t know where Deputy Officer Curtis tended to be during break times since that fateful day.

But who in their right mind would gossip with the Marshal about his own adjutant?

Silence stretched.

Both men stared straight ahead, faces stiff, expressions suspiciously constipated.

"Sir," one of them tried bravely, "we, uh—"

"Marshal?"

The voice cut in smoothly.

The soldiers nearly wept in relief.

Because who in this entire base would dare interrupt Marshal Julian mid-interrogation?

Eden.

Of course, it was Eden.

She walked towards them with a jug in one hand, posture relaxed, gaze steady.

"Are you looking for Curtis?" she asked casually, as if this were a completely normal conversation between equals and not an interaction that could potentially end careers.

The two soldiers stiffened even harder.

Who talked to the Marshal like that and lived to tell about it?

Apparently, she did.

Regularly.

But sure enough, not only was she fierce and courageous, but she also saved two innocent souls by guiding the Marshal to her lair, where, according to accounts from said woman, a certain Curtis was being held voluntarily.

Voluntarily?

There were so many things to unpack from that single word, but Marshal Julian just couldn’t be bothered to hear it again when he already suffered once.

Moreover, there were just a mountain more of things to deal with than the domestication of his adjutant that he had already seen coming from lightyears away, anyway.

So overall, he was just going to ignore what he could see with his eyes as he entered Eden’s "office."

However, what the poor Marshal couldn’t take was his adjutant opening his mouth with, "Marshal, have you heard—"

Oh hell no.

Hell fucking no.

That was practically the seventh time he’d heard someone start a sentence with "have you heard," and for some reason, it triggered something primal in him.

If he heard it one more time, Marshal Julian was fairly certain he would voluntarily check himself into an institution.

But why?

Ha.

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