The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 299

Chapter 299: Loot

Chapter 299:

Now, if there was one thing that almost slipped Luca’s mind in all this, it was the very reason guilds salivated over dungeons in the first place.

The loot.

But even Luca, who had an idea about the richness of dungeons, hadn’t quite been prepared for what they stumbled across once they made it out of the strange canopy and onto the ledge behind the commuter crash.

Because nestled inside the vast canyon beneath them wasn’t just any dungeon landscape—it was a glittering, mineral-rich, starry-night-come-alive treasury of rare resources.

And not metaphorically.

It was a different level of ka-ching!

No, not just ka-ching. This was KA. CHING.

The sound rang in their heads with such force that Luca momentarily forgot to breathe.

Ollie—bless his excitable soul—tried to lean closer for a better look and would have nearly toppled off the edge if not for someone’s intervention.

Kyle, with the reflexes of an exasperated veteran and an almost permanent babysitting contract, caught the blonde mid-swoon.

Yes, death, but at least he would die surrounded by materials that stretched out for so long that it made his heart thud in logistical distress.

Similarly, Luca made a mistake of looking down and entered a state of near hyperventilation as the little money grubber saw how the commuter craft apparently sat atop a canyon in a position so dangerous that they’d need to leave soon.

The sooner, the better.

Definitely, and they should definitely leave to see all those riches in the canyon that lay below them!

Now, Xavier did not have to see the face of his wife to know what he must be thinking. For this little money grubber was practically vibrating next to him.

And then he got that look. One that he really couldn’t deny, especially with those eyes that could rival the stars that they couldn’t even see from here.

The Imperial Prince could only sigh. "We can try to look, but we’re going down with our mechas."

So, they suited up.

The gears checked. Mechas deployed. D-29 chirped data with renewed (albeit limited) functionality.

And from a distance, someone watched.

It was from the same ridge, but she was looking at them with a different kind of gaze.

The same woman in armor that shimmered faintly with age and purpose. Her presence was cloaked not by technology but by a veil made from the local materials that allowed her to blend in with the environment.

Her posture stiffened the moment the mechas were summoned.

Not the flashy ones. Not the towering, regal mechas.

But that one with questionable legs.

Her eyes honed in on that one particular mecha that deployed last.

She squinted.

"?"

What in the overgrown void is that?

She wasn’t sure if it was because of how long they’d spend trapped inside this place, but have mechas changed so much that it’s started to look like that?

And yet, what got her wasn’t the aesthetics but that insignia.

Half-scratched and faded with time but burned into memory.

Her breath hitched.

Because that mecha—no matter how ridiculous it looked now—was once standard-issue military. Not just military.

It bore the faded insignia of a line she once knew intimately.

One she had longed for.

Her heart thundered painfully against her ribs. Not now. Not when she’d already accepted this wasn’t possible. Not when she had buried that thought after being trapped for over five years.

But here it was.

If only.