The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 486

Chapter 486: A Different Boom

But what can we say? The universe, vast and unruly, paid no mind to love-struck students and their whispered confessions beneath shared blankets.

Because while two young souls were locked in the throes of blooming affection—fingers tangled, hearts echoing in sync—somewhere in another galaxy, a very different kind of storm was brewing.

King Garick Zulgara was preparing for war.

...Or, more accurately, for retrieval.

Of his daughter.

While a newly minted couple basked in the honeymoon haze of cuddles and stolen kisses, he was busy scowling at reports, his temporary throne room vibrating with the kind of restrained fury only a doting father could muster.

"Your Majesty," a nervous aide began, holding a trembling datapad, "we’ve renovated the Princess’s chambers. Even the bath has been retrofitted to accommodate human proportions. We also added extra pillows—softer ones."

Garick’s massive leg bounced once. Then again. A foreboding rhythm.

"And?" he rumbled, voice low and clipped.

"...And, ah, we’ve made arrangements for her favorite things. Imported new clubs. Reinforced weapons. And even a personalized training dummy—"

"What I care about," King Garick cut in, eyes narrowing like a predator sighting prey, "are updates about her. Where is she?"

The aide flinched. "A-at the Royal Military Academy, Your Majesty. She’s reportedly...still attending classes."

"And?"

"And...and we’re scheduled to appear before the Emperor in three days. We should be able to visit Planet Nova the day after."

Garick let out a sigh. A long, rumbling, disapproving sigh.

"Anymore mining-related movements?"

"There’s still ongoing consolidation, as per her last directive. The warehouse stockpile has nearly doubled—"

"So she is building something," he muttered under his breath.

That girl.

Garick waved the aide away and leaned back, his massive frame creaking the reinforced throne. "Hmph."

Every day she stayed away, she made more noise. More ripples. More waves.

And what’s worse?

She was doing it with humans.

"Surrounded by midgets," he grumbled, rubbing his temple. "What about her wedding?" Because any longer and I might bite through my tusks.

He sighed again—more dramatic this time, for effect—before dragging a hand down his face.

Kira had always been a little wild. A little too clever. A little too bright.

But he hadn’t expected her to shine this brightly out there, not in a world of thin-blooded, noodle-armed creatures and half-baked bureaucrats who probably couldn’t even lift a proper greataxe.

She was meant to command armies.

Not enroll in a place far away from home.

And yet...there she was.

Garick could already feel the incoming headache. Deep and full-bodied. Like a migraine brewed from disappointment and paternal devotion.

Fine. So be it.

He would sort it out in person.

With a proper father-daughter talk. Anyway, they were coming home soon.

So it’ll have to be whichever came first.

Meanwhile, the alleged "midgets" were waking up to a brand-new day of hard labor, which, surprisingly, was still leagues better than going to school.

For one, a certain blonde midget who had passed out after being kissed senseless and spoiled rotten had woken up with a suspicious spring in his step.

He was radiant. He was refreshed. And he was snickering every five seconds despite having to shovel what could only be described as beast poop.

Yes. Poop.

Technically, it was soil—dark, nutrient-rich, and filled with spiritual energy from the digestion of Cindermoss Burrowers.

But even when Luca rejoiced at the sight of it, the burrowers would definitely identify it as their poop.

See, today had started with inspections. Luca had a full schedule lined up, and to everyone’s surprise, Ollie had not only woken up early but also volunteered to tag along.

People stared.

The sun was still rising, and here was Ollie. Awake. Dressed. Not grumpy.

Something was clearly wrong.

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