The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 628

628 /628

Chapter 628: The Marshal’s Burden

But the Marshal, trained to have superior reflexes, couldn’t escape those hawk-like eyes that would follow him even into death.

Which was precisely what led to this disaster just waiting to happen.

"This should do it, right?" asked the woman with soft brown hair tucked neatly beneath a registration attendant’s cap.

She had on the same crisp uniform as the others—though on her, the bland fabric looked elegant, sharp, almost regal. Her posture was too straight, her hands too precise, and her eyes too shrewd for a mere clerk. Even in disguise, Empress Gisella radiated authority like perfume.

"Honey, it’s excellent. It seems you are great at this," replied the man beside her, his black hair styled plainly, his expression neutral.

Unlike his wife, he had lived far too many years in disguise. Emperor Xavian wore the uniform like he was born to it, moving with the ease of someone who had blended into crowds countless times before. Every gesture was measured, every glance ordinary. If one didn’t look too closely, he was just another tired clerk ready for another day of mindless paperwork.

"Ah, it’s been so long since I’ve had to do this," Xavian said, brushing his borrowed badge with a grin. "But I think I haven’t lost touch. What do you think, Julian?"

What did he think?

He thought the whole thing was insane. He thought this should never have happened. He thought, most of all, that if it did happen, he shouldn’t have been the poor soul caught in the middle of it.

Marshal Julian’s jaw clenched as he remembered the earlier ordeal.

It had already been difficult enough to stop Imperial Princess Nina from coming. She would have insisted with her whole being had Butler Henry not reassured her that there would be no children inside the registration center.

The princess had threatened to disguise herself as a blob, or worse, one of the pint-sized alien races, just so she could sneak in. The ruling couple had to demand who, then, would be left in charge of the Imperial Palace if they all left.

Her answer?

"Mr. Quackers and Snowy."

Julian had nearly fainted.

Thankfully, the monarchs managed to pacify her by acting pitiful, promising she could attend the auction and pick out whatever she wanted. That softened her, but only after tears spilled down her cheeks—tears born of remembering how the first auction invitation had never reached her mother’s hands.

So Nina had relented, finally staying behind.

But did that mean Julian’s nightmare ended there?

No. Of course not.

Because now, how was he supposed to deal with these two insane monarchs?!

How did it even come to this?

He remembered exactly. It all started when he’d been cornered to the inch of his life and forced to admit he had seen Xavier together with Luca Kyros.

Obviously, they grilled him until he nearly combusted. Why hadn’t he said anything sooner?

Julian, driven mad himself, shouted back, "Even you, who know about it now, aren’t sure what to really do! Then what about me, who is just his uncle?!" 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"And what should I have said? Would anyone believe me if I claimed the Imperial Crown Prince was practically possessed?!"

Oh. Well. That was true.

Even Empress Gisella had to admit that without proof, it would have sounded impossible.

But then Julian thought, how could it be impossible when the man his sister married was basically the same? Wasn’t this hereditary?!

It clearly was.

But people always said love was blind. So apparently, were these two.

Could they, at the very least, not endanger his life like this?

If only.

If only that were his only issue.

Because of how frazzled they were, it was only now that the disgruntled Marshal finally got to explain the actual reason they were all here.

Enclosed within a spiritual barrier, he began gravely, "Your Majesties, just so you’re aware, we’re in a tight position because Duke Leander might blow his fuse at any time."

"Huh? Why? What happened?!" Normally, the Empress wouldn’t care much about one of the Duke’s tantrums. But this wasn’t just anyone—it was the chipmunk’s father. This meant they had to tread very carefully.