The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 332

Chapter 332: Abilities

While the others worked out a rough system to farm the deathworm materials back at the barren lands, two mechas peeled away from the group, heading toward the edge of the grasslands.

The Duchess took the lead.

Her borrowed mecha, while initially unfamiliar, now moved with the grace of someone who knew how to tread lightly even in the worst terrain.

But the grasslands weren’t the same as they had been mere hours ago.

And had it not been for the familiar, dome-like features that remained above them, she would’ve thought they’d been transported elsewhere.

Where before there had been soft, dry moss and patches of gnarled roots, now the land looked severely overturned, practically unrecognizable.

Thick networks of roots, once hidden safely underground, had been wrenched up by the chaos. Twisting masses of dark tendrils blanketed much of the land like a suffocating net, of which some pulsed faintly, while others lay limp like severed limbs.

And beasts roamed in confusion while those that didn’t quite escape the roots lay crushed beneath fallen debris.

The Duchess couldn’t help but frown at this.

She had fought among these lands for years, but she had never seen the grasslands look like this.

It was unnerving.

It wasn’t just the monsters anymore. The land itself felt like it had turned hostile.

They had to move carefully.

Every thruster push needed to be measured and gentle to avoid awakening the thing that slumbered at the heart of this devastation.

But even as they tread carefully, a deeper worry gnawed at her.

More than just being careful now, the Duchess realized that they didn’t have the luxury of time to gather their strength and prepare.

There was no safe area to hide in, and the enemies would only get stronger as they adapted to the increased energy and rank.

Just like before.

Only, they’d be far stronger this time around.

They needed to get out of this dungeon as soon as possible.

But first, they’d have to get to their destination.

Assuming, of course, that it was still intact.

However, the Duchess wasn’t only aiming for the liquid but also for information.

For one, she wanted to see if it was safe for those youngsters to come back to the grasslands. But more importantly, she dragged Butler Gary to get the information she needed.

She had questions, but while she could ask them herself, they were questions that may or may not be demoralizing.

So, once they had a clear stretch of ground with minimal root coverage, she opened a private comm line.

"Butler Gary," she began, her voice calm but edged with quiet tension, "I need you to answer something for me, honestly."

The older man, piloting the secondary mecha just behind her, answered immediately.

"Of course, Your Grace."

She hesitated a beat, then asked, "What’s your assessment of their combat abilities? As much as I would love just to test them myself, we don’t have the time or the resources to do that."

The experienced Butler didn’t flinch from the question because he, too, understood the unspoken weight behind it.

But this one was surprisingly not difficult to answer because nearly everyone had the same opinion.

"Stronger than you’d expect, Your Grace," he said, a note of quiet pride in his voice.

The Duchess arched an eyebrow inside her cockpit. "Oh?"

"They’re not your standard cadets. Lord Xavier and Kyle not only maintain top ranks, but they also have enough military mission hours to pass as seasoned soldiers."

"If anything, these two have spent more time with the military than in the classroom." He added, voice steady as he described what they also recently learned.