The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 943: A Moving Tale

"You—!"

Doyle stopped himself right there and took a deep breath.

Today was going to be a great day.

A victorious day.

A day where he would reclaim dignity, pride, and possibly student opinion polls.

He didn’t need to panic just because he saw and heard that horrifying blonde with the damning mouth.

Admittedly, he shivered. But that was anger.

Yes.

Definitely anger.

There could easily be a hundred uncles wandering around today because of the polishing competition. That brat shouting "Uncle!" didn’t automatically mean he was referring to him, especially when he was so young and promising.

Also, with the number of students Doyle had brought along, it was entirely reasonable to assume the midget wasn’t calling him out specifically.

Except one Ollie Mylor was most definitely calling him out.

That uncanny glimmer on Doyle’s head made him impossible to miss in a crowd of mechanics. He might as well have been equipped with built-in reflectors.

And really, wouldn’t it be impolite to overlook an important benefactor?

So before Doyle could even begin his carefully rehearsed lament about how DG’s booth had been disgracefully unaccommodating to fellow Royal Military Academy students, the guild’s resident lighthouse decided to illuminate him for everyone to see.

"Wow! It’s really our first benefactor! I didn’t expect to see you here!"

Heads turned.

One by one.

Then all at once.

Every single gaze followed Ollie’s line of sight until it landed squarely on Doyle.

He felt the weight of attention immediately.

But instead of shrinking back, Doyle puffed out his chest.

Good.

Let them look.

He was just about to deliver a perfectly scathing remark, something sharp and righteous that would resonate deeply with the proud nobles standing behind him. Of course that twerp couldn’t have expected him here, especially with how unaccommodating DG had been toward academy students. It was almost insulting—

However, he never got to say it.

The students with him didn’t voice it either, but Doyle was certain they shared his pride. As nobles of the Empire, they wouldn’t want to be treated like just anybody.

And honestly, that sentiment alone was enough.

The Iron Panthers had already accepted that DG would likely be selected for the Astral Cup with their overwhelming popularity. Fine.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t maneuver for advantage. Student preference still mattered. First-round privileges still mattered, and they were determined to succeed in that department.

If they could position DG as dismissive toward academy students, then the tide would definitely shift in their favor.

Doyle almost snickered at the thought.

Only for Ollie to cut his plans brightly, "I’m sorry, everyone! This is probably a very unique situation, but do you think it would be okay to allow our benefactor to go in?"

"!!!"

Doyle nearly choked.

What?

The crowd didn’t react kindly either.

People who had painstakingly lined up for hours stared in disbelief. Even leaders of the Empire had needed to secure invitations in advance because of DG’s strict adherence to rules.

So what was this now?

But before outrage could fully form, Ollie raised both hands apologetically.

"Ah! I know it sounds weird and unfair, but it’s because of a special reason!" he said sheepishly, the little hair antenna atop his head swaying as if helping him apologize.

The crowd leaned in.

Just how special could this reason possibly be?

Ollie’s eyes shone.

"Because if not for this elder over here, our guild wouldn’t have even been founded. His existence marked the very beginning of DG!"

He said it with such fervor that it looked like beams of light might shoot straight out of him.

As if on cue, a certain dramatic little system provided subtle lighting effects that made the entire declaration feel suspiciously divine.

"!!!"

"Wait! Wait—what?!"

Doyle nearly toppled forward.

What was that idiot saying?

Who exactly was the reason for this stupid guild’s existence?

Him?

Him?

Suddenly, the same murmuring patrons who had been moments away from protesting were now parting like a ceremonial guard.

"Oh! Please, go ahead!"

"You should’ve said so earlier!"

"An elder benefactor!"

Hands ushered him forward.

Applause followed.

His group of students was swept along with him in a tide of unexpected admiration.

They were practically carried inside.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

And within minutes, headlines were already popping up across Star Net, complete with dramatic captions about DG’s founding benefactor making a surprise appearance.

Somewhere in the midst of the applause and flashing notifications, Doyle felt like even his eyebrows were loosening in distress.

He had thought that was the worst of it.

He was wrong.

Because nothing could have prepared him for the kind of greeting waiting for him inside.

__

Barely able to process the dramatic escort, the applause, and the interior of this ridiculously extravagant and heart-stopping booth, Doyle was still trying to regain his footing when another voice pierced through the air.

"Mister! It’s really you! My brother said you’re here so I came out to greet you!"

Doyle nearly spat blood.

"Mister?! Who is the mister here?!" he barked before he could stop himself. "What are you even talking about? We’re both students!"

It didn’t help that the visual comparison was not in his favor.

On one side stood a fresh-looking flower of a cadet, golden-eyed and glowing like he was the embodiment of prosperity.

On the other stood a giant tank of a man with an increasingly distressed expression.

The disparity was painful.

While Doyle was grinding his teeth, the so-called flower was practically beaming.

Luca was genuinely excited.

Yes, Doyle had threatened his good brother before. Yes, he had used very colorful language regarding guild affiliations and makers being met. But this time, Luca looked at him differently.

Like a prickly flower that was actually soft on the inside.

After meeting elders like Master Quinn and Master Allan, Luca had come to understand that some people spoke harsh words that didn’t quite align with their actions.

Mister Doyle Rook was apparently one of them. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

He had given them valuable pointers for free.

Recently, he even started a thread that ended up boosting House Kyros’s recognition. D-29 had traced the account back to him with suspicious efficiency.

And today?

Today, he even brought customers.

Customers.

Luca couldn’t help but feel touched.

So touched, in fact, that he immediately dragged over Reeve, who was now an official correspondent, to properly introduce the good mister who had helped shape the DG of today.

"Everyone, this is—"

Doyle’s eye twitched.

But before he could interject, Luca continued warmly, recounting the origins of their guild and that fateful encounter that had apparently altered the trajectory of history.

The golden-eyed cadet, however, paused mid-explanation.

Why was Mister Doyle starting to look... blue?

He was only recounting events.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing embarrassing.

Just that day.

That very important day.

And then Reeve, ever diligent, asked, "So what exactly inspired you to establish DG instead of joining an existing guild?"

Luca answered cheerfully.

"Oh! Because Mister said that my brother would meet his maker if he tried signing up with any of the guilds. So in light of that, we just made our own! It was a very surprising thing to hear, but it was really effective!"

Silence.

Complete.

Utter.

Silence.

Doyle felt his soul leave his body.

He prayed for the ground to open beneath him and swallow him whole.

Unfortunately for him, the ground remained firm.

And Luca, who didn’t detect the impending social collapse, continued speaking with increasing emotion about the Mister’s important lectures about not having an acceptable rank, not having enough money, and the need to sell oneself to succeed.

Luca couldn’t help but be passionate about this because he believed that, sure enough, it was only through providing personal and top-of-the-line services that they would be able to please customers and earn more money!

It was a moving tale, really.

Especially inside an enclosed booth where one father Kyros prowled.