The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 470

Chapter 470: The Best

For a moment, Ollie couldn’t breathe.

The words "give him to me" echoed in his head like a poorly tuned bell. Each repetition sent another jolt to his heart, until it felt like it might burst straight through his ribs.

He blinked once.

Then twice.

The hallway was still dead silent. All eyes were on him.

Even Luca, who had seen his brother go through countless oddities, was speechless. It had been a long time since he had seen something like this. It reminded him of those bitter fights between Guides back in the day. The only difference was that back then, they were trying to pin all their relationship problems on him.

This time, however, someone was trying to take Kyle away from his brother.

Luca’s hand subtly found Ollie’s, a small anchor in the midst of the rising emotional tide. He expected tremors. He expected hesitation.

Instead, Ollie’s fingers curled around his with unexpected steadiness.

And then his brother, who had been unusually silent, spoke.

"I’m sorry," he said, voice soft—too soft for the occasion—but the stillness amplified it until it cut through the air like a blade. "That’s impossible."

Lyka scowled, visibly confused. "Impossible? Why?"

"Because," Ollie replied, standing straighter, though his eyes were stormy and unreadable. "It’s not our place to decide for him."

A murmur rippled through the gathered crowd.

Princess Kira, who had been ready to intervene, subtly paused. This was a different mop—steadier, steelier. Her ears flicked with interest.

Lyka’s brows twitched. "Is it because you’re trying to string him along? Is that why you won’t help me?"

But surprisingly, Ollie’s gaze didn’t falter.

"No," he said evenly. "It’s because Kyle is more than capable of choosing who he wants to be with. I don’t want to manipulate his choice."

That should’ve been the end of it. But Lyka, cornered and exposed, doubled down.

This hurdle of a blob was going to make her lose face like this. How dare he speak about manipulation when she was sure that he’d done that to Kyle?! After all, how else would someone of his caliber fall for someone like Ollie Mylor?!

"O-of course, I feel the same! I don’t want to manipulate anything," she snapped, insistent, "I’m simply trying to be with someone I’ve loved for years. Don’t you think he deserves someone who knows how to support him? Someone who worked hard for it?"

She looked at the crowd, as if rallying public sentiment. "I even raised my compatibility rating! Like his family, I just want the best for him. So, I pushed myself to be that person. Can’t you see? I’m only asking for a little help. Just your blessing. Surely, you want what’s best for your friend, don’t you?"

It was meant to shame him. To force him into a corner so he would agree, Princess Kira felt the desire to snap off this twig.

But instead, something inside Ollie quietly broke.

There was no flash, no flare. Just a gentle, clean snap—like the sound of a string stretched too far.

He didn’t care if Lyka had 300% compatibility, a résumé with glowing references, or a prepared presentation on why she’d make a good wife, or a good Nox.

He didn’t care if she had all the right reasons.

No. He couldn’t bless this. Not even at knifepoint.

It was impossible to surrender Kyle.

Ollie’s chest trembled—not from fear, but from the pressure of emotion surging up.

He looked at Lyka, and for the first time in a long while, the normally agreeable mechanic who was raised to be a gentleman, said with conviction:

"No."

Lyka blinked. "No?"

"No," Ollie repeated, voice firm. "Because he’s mine."

Gasps rippled through the hallway like a thrown stone hitting still water.

Lyka stared, lips parted in stunned silence.

Ollie didn’t look away.

He wasn’t claiming baseless possession.

He was just responding to Kyle’s existing declaration.

Just responding to the man who would readily change his death-defying schedule for him. To the man who would serve as his legs when he’s tired.

It was a response to someone who would switch plates with him even when all Ollie could offer was a small sprig in return for his extravagant plate.

He was just responding to the man who would willingly protect him from everything, including himself.

And Ollie had felt it—slowly, quietly, then all at once.

This wasn’t something he could give up. Not even for "what’s best."

But Lyka’s stunned silence didn’t last.

The gasp was still echoing through the corridor when she straightened her spine and lifted her chin, her fists clenched at her sides.

Then came the smile.

Tight. Controlled. A blade wrapped in satin.

"I see," she said wistfully, sweetly, her voice like sugar left too long in the sun. "So that’s it. You suddenly like him now. And now you think that’s enough."

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