The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 325

Chapter 325: Camp

Sadly, it was not such a distant future, for there was no end to the threats that could come their way.

Like the well-trained ears of a leader in need of capable or passable subordinates.

To be fair, they hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not technically.

Because they really tried to avoid overhearing things, but couldn’t when their ears twitched by themselves.

So they listened.

And wept.

Wept so hard that, had Duchess Amelia not been so engrossed in her own tears, she would’ve come out swinging just to scold them for reacting worse than she did.

And it showed.

Their eyes were red. Their noses were stuffy. Their hearts cracked and taped together after one hell of a ride.

Maybe save for the adjutant who couldn’t even spare a tear because he was too busy keeping the mop from melting into a puddle of emotional goo.

He was too busy keeping all of Ollie’s shattered pieces together that he’d have to delay processing the emotions associated with learning about the truth.

But now he realized that those older adults were trying to book it. And fast.

They inched away, ever so discreetly, trying to "casually" melt into the shadows.

For they knew what it meant to be caught within the firing zone.

But it was too late.

They had stayed a second too long, listened a bit too hard, and now?

They were trapped.

Their eyes spoke volumes of their battle plan, but their hopes were dashed the moment a warm, honeyed voice called from inside the tunnel.

"Ladies and gentlemen~" Duchess Amelia sang, voice so sweet it was menacing.

"!!!"

Every muscle in their bodies locked.

Cece winced on their behalf.

While Gisella braced herself as if watching comrades fall in slow motion.

As for Butler Gary? He consoled himself by remembering how he’d long prepared his last will.

The Duchess emerged, all smiles and shimmer, as she terrified them with her clear gaze.

Her arms were folded neatly over her chest, her head tilted just a touch, and it screamed peril.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you’d still be around," she said sweetly. "Surely you heard enough by now?"

There was a collective gulp.

Because they did, they heard everything.

So now, they were implicated.

"Wonderful," Amelia beamed. "Then I don’t have to explain much."

The poor veterans were stiff as statues, looking everywhere but at her.

As if that was of any use.

She smiled wider.

"Then you’ll have to humor me by agreeing to a few things, okay?"

A pause.

"First, we need to get out of here as fast as we can."

"We will take shortcuts when possible. And I think you all understand why?" She looked at them pointedly.

Everyone shook their heads like terrified schoolchildren.

"Good," she purred. "Because the moment we do get out of here—and we will—I better not see a single one of you running your mouth to my husband—"

"Unless my son decides to do that himself."

They nodded frantically.

"I get it," she continued with irritation. "I understand the feeling of wanting to seek justice. But until we have the location of that blasted planet, then Leander ought not to know."

Her voice dipped low. A voice that showed restrained fury.

"He will be fixated. And we’d rather he focus on his time with his son rather than going rabid trying to look for it in anger."

"But we will look for it. Even if it’s the last thing I’ll do." Her eyes narrowed, determination reaching everyone who was listening.