The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 603

Chapter 603: An Important Day

Two decades.

Their son had been alive for two whole decades, and yet Emperor Xavian and Empress Gisella only encountered something like this after twenty years of their child’s existence.

See, it wasn’t that there had never been problems concerning their son Xavier. There were plenty. But most of them were your run-of-the-mill assassination attempts, the usual kidnapping attempts, and the typical probes into their child’s hidden identity. Nothing surprising there.

Not that any of it ever succeeded.

Especially not when, soon after learning how to walk, their child decided to start handling such matters himself.

And how did they know he had made that decision?

Because the assassins were often found dead before the guards could even arrive.

Killed by raw spiritual ability. Without much of a fuss.

It was the bizarre case of someone learning how to wield spiritual energy before they had even learned how to talk.

And that was saying something, considering how silent their child was.

Most children born in that generation didn’t cry when they left their pods anymore. But Xavier seemed determined to push the envelope. He barely cried even in uncomfortable situations.

The situation puzzled them deeply. It was as if he had inherited only the cold and ruthless sides of both his parents.

After all, while they themselves could be warm in private, they both knew no ruler could survive over vast lands without learning to shut away their emotions when needed.

But Xavier?

It was like the Punnett square had rolled, and he had gotten all the cold and ruthless genes in one go.

And while his tutors praised him endlessly for his intellect, discipline, and control, his parents were quietly fretting. Because sometimes... their child looked more like an emperor than the Emperor himself.

Always stern. Always efficient. Always looking for the most direct solution.

Including how to live.

For a time, Empress Gisella made it her personal mission to drag him into conversations about emotions. To tell him the stories of commoners. To share even the most trivial gossip about relationships.

Hoping, desperately, that something would stick.

"Why do people fall in love, Xavier?" she would ask.

"Because the hormonal balance of their bodies is affected by proximity and compatible traits," her child would recite, looking serious.

"..."

She’d try to teach him that sometimes it wasn’t just that.

And eventually, he gave her the correct answers, or the answers that most humans would give. But she was never sure if he truly understood, or if he was just memorizing them the way he memorized battle strategies.

Thankfully, he had friends. Reliable ones who managed to stick by his side. Although really it was just two people who he managed to tolerate.

And when they played, it was... well... "play" was a generous term.

While other children built blocks or chased each other in the gardens, their trio was discovered mounting small custom-made mechas behind their backs.

The kind of revelation that almost gave both the Emperor and Empress simultaneous cardiac arrest.

The hypertension that day nearly left the most important positions of the Empire vacant.

But what could they even say when their child calmly declared, "Doing this would increase our chances of survival, wouldn’t it? If we practice now, won’t that allow us to come back?"

"..."

They almost spat blood.

What was the correct response to that? To say it was too early? To insist on adult supervision?

But who were they kidding? When the child began official training, there would be no supervision out in the contamination zones anyway.

And what was too early, when no one could predict when contamination would surge again?

How hard it was to argue with a child whose every word buried them deeper, like being hammered into the ground with logic.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify