The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 560

Chapter 560: Please Remain Calm

It was like being in a daze.

One moment, Curtis’s mecha was sliding backward, grinding helplessly into the ground after being pummeled by the Marshal. The next, his vision was abruptly filled with white.

A mecha.

Not just any mecha.

That mecha.

The eerie, gleaming thing loomed over him like a phantom, framed in light and smoke, its shape just unnatural enough to short-circuit the brain trying to understand it.

"Huh?" Curtis managed.

And that was the last thing he could clearly recall.

He’d tried to eject. He really had. But something had malfunctioned—maybe due to the impact, or maybe because of his bad luck.

So someone else made the choice for him.

From the stands, it looked horrific.

The white mecha reared back, spider-like limbs slithering into formation. Then, in one fluid motion, it stabbed its gleaming appendages straight into the mangled chest of Curtis’s broken mecha.

Gasps erupted like a chain reaction. One woman fainted. Someone else dropped back onto their seat.

It looked like a horror scene.

Steel limbs. Piercing points. The shriek of metal being ripped apart.

From afar, it looked like Luca’s mecha was devouring the other one.

But the master mechanics knew better. They could see it—the precision, the aim. The limbs were not attacking the pilot. They were cleanly and accurately digging into the structural joints that housed the cockpit module.

Then came the final moment.

The audience watched in partial horror, their mouths open, as Luca’s mecha gripped the entire cockpit like it was plucking a seed from a poor and unsuspecting fruit.

But just as it lifted free, a rectangular structure—previously hidden behind the white mecha—shifted into view.

A box.

And it opened without fanfare, jaws parting wide before swallowing the cockpit whole.

Then it shut.

"..."

"..."

Silence.

Thick. Stunned.

And utterly unlike Curtis, who had not been quiet since the fateful removal.

His scream had begun at the moment of extraction and hadn’t really stopped.

"AAAAHHHHH—"

It echoed faintly over the communication line, just loud enough for every other pilot in their shared channel to hear him losing his mind in real time.

"Sir?!"

"Deputy?!"

"IS HE ALIVE?!"

Panic flooded the channel.

One of the officers ended up crying.

Another was openly bargaining with the gods.

But then—

"...Hello?" Curtis muttered.

It came small. Confused. And extremely offended.

He could still speak.

He could still think.

In fact, the kicker was that he could still hear the people from the shared channel?

Which begged the question: what in the name of the empire just happened?

Also, was he not using his inside voice?!

However, all he got was that deceiving momentary peace.

Utter darkness. No screen. No status bar. Just breathing and the residual buzz of adrenaline.

And with no real choice left, Deputy Officer Curtis sat frozen, blinking blankly as his heart thundered and the tight cage around him began to shudder.

Because outside, chaos had returned.

And at the center of it all stood a brave little chipmunk who had just raised a spiritual energy shield to face the Marshal’s next attack.

One that came just as Luca locked Curtis’ cockpit into place and turned to store the shattered remains of his mecha.

Suddenly, D-29’s prompt rang out—

"Warning! Incoming attack from the S-class mecha!"

"!"

He could’ve fled.

He should’ve fled.

But Luca, being Luca, thought about resource management first.

That broken mecha still had usable parts.

So instead of dodging, which would’ve been impossible at that moment, he let his B-class support mecha tank the blow.

Clang!

Repeat.

And then he decided—screw it.

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