The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 773

Chapter 773: The March

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The ground trembled with each impact, light tremors rippling through the soles of everyone’s shoes. Conversations died off one by one. Murmurs stirred. Heads lifted. Necks craned.

Something was coming.

The kind of something that had people looking around as if suddenly alert.

The sound grew louder.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

Someone whispered, "Is that... drums?"

Another whispered back, "If it is, why does it feel like they’re punching the ground with them?"

The answer arrived before anyone could speculate.

A line of soldiers appeared.

Familiar, but usually dreaded. The kind where ignorance definitely meant bliss.

Federation.

They marched as one, moving so cleanly in sync that it felt less like people approaching and more like a single massive beast advancing on the venue.

The air thickened with pressure. Spiritual energy radiated from their formation in waves, the sheer uniformity unnerving even the battle-hardened veterans in the crowd.

Then again, who wouldn’t stand on guard when such a massive amount of spiritual energy was being shown off for a parade entrance?

Particularly when the ones doing it were quite literally the rather unstable enemy.

However, the budding unease was worse for those who could use visual resonance. Because more than just intimidating, the marching soldiers displayed intense cohesion not just in movement but also with their spiritual energies.

No clashing, no spiking, and no wavering. Instead, their energies wove together smoothly into what looked like a single unified blanket, layered and steady, as if all of them were breathing in perfect agreement.

Their control was both astounding and terrifying.

But why show such a thing?

Because, unlike the other delegations who could openly flaunt technology or weapons as they entered, the Federation definitely had more restrictions, so it was understandable that they would find a way to show their might.

The cadets wore one style of uniform—sharp, white, perfectly pressed.

The soldiers wore another—heavier plating, severe silhouettes, polished to mirror brightness.

They marched in perfect rhythm.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

The drums boomed in the background, each beat matching their steps with mechanical precision. The sound rolled across the parade grounds like thunder.

The Imperial troops who entered first were more numerous, ideally stronger, and should have been far more intimidating in actual power. But the Federation...

They were very particular.

Above them, the sky broke into motion.

Unfamiliar mechas shot across the air in tight formations, their movements sharp and coordinated. Each carried enormous spear-like pylons that crackled with internal power before unfolding mid-air with a snap.

Huge banners unfurled—smooth, seamless, flawless.

The Federation crest exploded into full view.

Gasps erupted.

Some, particularly children, were in awe. Some probably gasped in hatred. While some were stuck with mostly disbelief.

Honestly, it was awkward for the audience because, unlike the fervent cheering earlier, the crowd was mostly suspended in animation as they waited for what else was to come.

Obviously, they figured it would be fine, but with the Federation just entering in like that, one couldn’t help but feel like wanting to run.

But then the marching stopped.

A single command was shouted, and immediately the army split into two flawless lines, turning their bodies sharply inward.

Their boots hit the ground in unison.

The air shook.

Every soldier brought their hand up in a uniform salute.

And the reason arrived.

Cassian Veyra.

He remained standing in the center like the universe had parted specifically for him. The Federation delegates followed behind him in smug, leisurely steps, but no one looked at them.

All eyes were stuck on Cassian.

BOOM!

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