The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227: Announcements

It was short yet very sweet.

Despite being the quickest banquet, it was likely the Duchy’s most emotional one.

The air that had once been thick with tension was now layered with a strange sense of disbelief.

For all its grandeur and formality (not), the banquet had lasted barely long enough for people to register what had happened before it was over.

Plates once heaped with roasted garlic butter potatoes, vibrant Brussels sprouts, golden baked fish, and corn were now bare.

Every crumb was gone, and even the ’spiritual’ garnish—once meant to enhance the aesthetic—had been plucked clean.

The only thing left?

The lemonade.

And had it not been prone to spilling, the battle would’ve likely continued. But even now, it was being carefully rationed to ensure that everybody got some.

Each sip was treasured and lucky for those who had tasted it before, as they clearly had more self-restraint after knowing just how fast it could disappear.

In the aftermath, disbelief gave way to emotion.

Many were still catatonic, while those who weren’t idle were trying to examine the authenticity of their experience.

It wasn’t an unusual sight—people slapping themselves and then demanding confirmation from their peers.

"Hey, that wasn’t a dream, right?" One noble stared at the empty plate that gleamed with emptiness as if it had never been used.

"You tasted that too, right?"

"I—I think I did." Another noble answered, equally unsteady. "Steward Han called it a fish, even. I heard that."

"Fish? Is that what fishes are supposed to look like?" _{frёewebnoѵēl.com}

"I don’t even remember what it looked like. When I blinked, it was gone." Chimed a soldier.

There was nothing left.

And yet, even for the mourning victors and pseudo-losers, they could still recognize the fleeting joy that had graced their tongues.

A new memory branded into the minds of all present.

Food. Real spiritual food.

They had tasted it.

Devoured it.

And now, it was as though the veil that obscured their understanding of life had been lifted.

But for some, or even for most, it was like being given a second lease on life.

It wasn’t just delicious, a word that’s likely foreign to these people, but it was also life-saving.

And maybe that’s what made it all feel real. For at the center of it all were clear remnants of spiritual energy that now circulated in their bodies.

And it was thanks to a certain someone.

Their eyes naturally gravitated toward him.

Luca Soren Kyros, their Young Lord.

As the Duke and Duchess’ most trusted people, they had long known about the affliction.

They may not have known about the issue of the souls, but most have known about the heir having a condition, and yet here he was returning with such ferociousness that cannot be ignored.

While they didn’t think much of it when it happened, they could remember it.

The way he had humbly handed Butler Gary that space button was so simple and natural.

Now, that moment had taken on a divine weight. For in their memories, their young lord stood beneath an ethereal glow—the light of salvation—radiant, dazzling, and kind.

The statues of Luca that adorned the manor suddenly felt justified.

No—if anything, there were far too few.

Statues should be erected on every Kyros-owned planet and in every household.

His likeness should be immortalized, for the young lord was a savior returned to them.

And while they didn’t know the source of these food items, the fact that the heir could readily share it influenced an almost fanatical devotion.

Yet their growing reverie was broken by the Duke’s commanding voice.

"Everyone, settle down," his words reverberated through the hall, effectively silencing the once frantic murmurs.

"There are great matters of importance that must be addressed."

It was that familiar tone, and the people under the Duke’s command all straightened up.

That was that tone that left no room for argument. It was the tone they hadn’t heard in a very long time.

Shivers went down their spines, but at the same time, they were happy to feel that familiar sense of awe that got them to follow the Duke even when the outlook for all of them looked bleak.

It was the same golden eyes, but they now had the old flames of determination that had been gone for a while.

"First." he began, his voice steady.

"I would like to formally reintroduce the heir to the Duchy of Kyros—my son, Luca Soren Kyros."

Applause erupted, the sound filled with reverence and fervor even when they expected the same words.

But the sheer force behind the statement made hearts pound, including the heart of the actual heir, who couldn’t stop threatening to bounce off his rib cage.

Definitely much smaller.