The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 343

Chapter 343: Full Circle

Maybe it was one big cosmic joke, or maybe she was just cursed like Gisella often said, but right now, Cece didn’t think it was that bad.

There were far worse ways to go.

And this wasn’t the worst option.

Cece was bleeding out.

She knew that. She could feel the wet heat spreading through her torso—sticky, warm, and unrelenting. Her vision blurred at the edges, dimming and hazing in turns. There was a gaping hole in her lower abdomen where the root had speared through, and yet, somehow, she was still here.

Still lucid.

But even as the pain made her numb, it seemed like she still didn’t regret it.

Couldn’t, really.

Because how could she regret anything when the first time she met Gisella and Amelia, they practically did the same thing for her.

Her first tumble into the dungeon wasn’t as peaceful as the cadets. While the monsters weren’t as strong, she had been at a state where she was left to die before even getting sucked in here.

And she could remember it just like yesterday.

Or was this the perk of someone knocking on death’s door?

The day they’d first met, the monsters eyed her like their prey for the month.

She was too small, too weak, and too untrained to fight off anything with a body that was this close to croaking out.

But then, two women rushed towards her, shielding the attack with their bodies as it had been too close and too sudden.

Gisella stood in front of her, shielding her despite the clear signs of fatigue. Both these women took hits meant for her, Amelia even carried Gisella back after they had fended off the attackers.

All this was after Cece learned that they were depending on only half of their limbs after having to clear out an entire section already.

But they still helped.

They all got sick after that, intense cold sweat and pain that felt like they were going on that forever ride. And yet the memory that lingered the most was the warmth of having such company.

The warmth of their hands. The quiet urgency in Amelia’s voice. The stubbornness in Gisella’s glare.

They hadn’t known each other well at that point, but after surviving such an ordeal together, you could just say they were sisters born from different mothers.

But even now, she still remembered that life-saving grace.

So, really, this was just their kindness coming full circle.

And it felt like it was all worthwhile.

This was something she could accept. Be proud of even.

She just wished she had more time.

To see more of the world she hadn’t had the chance to know.

To share more meals. More laughs. More slow mornings under a crooked ceiling with mismatched blankets.

But her thoughts were fading, slipping like sand through cupped hands.

It was difficult to keep her eyes open. But she knew she had to, even just for this.

After all, she couldn’t leave just like this, right?

Gisella was shouting now, her voice cracked and raw—her tears—big, angry, messy drops—plopped audibly against the cockpit glass.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Keep her breathing. Just keep her here.