The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 432: Calibration

It was impossible not to hear everyone’s opinions.

Soone laughed. Soone gasped. One even whispered, "We can finally fight him now!"

Luca, however, was too focused on the fact that he’d get another cha today to care about what they were all saying.

He was excited.

He’d seen the research and the data, but he’d never really piloted such a cha before, so to him, this would be a great experience!

Better yet, he was going to get a model commonly used by soldiers before they switched to manual chas. So, he figured this was going to help him in their plan to upgrade the duchy’s fleet.

See, while he’d love to outfit everyone with biochas, upon testing, it seed like one must at least have an A-rank spiritual ability to run the basic biocha properly.

And yet, even with this barrier to entry, which already slashed at the number, it would still be impossible to provide that many energy crystals to everyone, given the rate at which they were producing them.

Not to ntion how much CP it would take to make that many biochas!

With all that in mind, he went through multiple design iterations, and after trying to adapt the synapse reactor of an advanced biocha into a basic one, he ended up with an estimated cost of 445,000 CP.

Each.

And that’s not counting the 800,000 CP advanced biocha he was planning on making for his father, who was really the only other person who qualified for it.

The costs were staggering, and at one point, Luca considered entering the contaminated zone to gain more CP. However, that took a backseat due to their exams.

So, in the end, he ca up with a feasible plan that would have woken the dead masters with how "feasible" he made it sound.

17 biochas in three months, well, nine inside the space.

Last ti, it took him more than 200 space hours to finish D-29, or roughly 9 days. But he’d learned from almost hurting himself and Xavier, so he’d decided to allow for about 2 weeks each.

More or less, and he was seriously hoping it would be less, because he had special projects that needed his attention, too.

But maybe he should think about all this later, as he’d need to see and test this cha so he could contribute to the combination cha upgrade design they’ve been working on.

The class began with both instructors standing at the front. Instructor Moore explained the baseline structure of combination chas while Instructor Falco detailed how spiritual resonance worked with the system.

Luca took that mont to quietly pull up the specs of the cha assigned to him.

He scanned everything—joint calibration, feedback response, spiritual absorption nodes. His attention lingered on the dominant-side limb balance. Not bad...but it could be better.

He made ntal notes as the others started pairing up and entering their machines.

The drills started simple:

Movent.

Close-combat form.

Mid-range artillery.

Then flight.

And while most students found it familiar, Luca experienced the difference imdiately.

This cha didn’t respond like his biocha, nor did it even resemble the cha from the duchy. The movent wasn’t fluid—it felt delayed. Like a secondhand echo instead of a clean signal.

The joints weren’t wrong or haphazardly connected, but they weren’t tailored to him or for maximum efficiency.

And the spiritual pathways? ssy. Not optimized. It drained energy in chunks instead of flowing smoothly and consistently. Instead, this one seed to be focusing on particular parts.

By the ti the last drill finished, Luca hopped out of the cockpit and walked over to Instructor Moore.

"Sir, am I allowed to calibrate and make improvents?"

Moore blinked. "...You an now?"

Luca nodded. "It won’t take long."

The instructor gave him a cautious yes, and the next thing they knew, Luca had popped open a compartnt and pulled out his toolbox.

Heads turned.

What was he doing?

Luca crouched beside the cha’s arm joint, propped open the panel, and muttered sothing about limb weight distribution.

He adjusted the tension in the cha’s shoulders. Rebalanced the dominant arm with a slight weight correction.

He even tweaked the internal absorption grid to direct flow into the stabilization system, just so the pilot wouldn’t burn too much energy holding a basic stance.

Within minutes, he was done.

Nothing exploded.

In fact, everything looked smoother.

He climbed back in and asked to repeat the drills.

Permission granted.

And this ti?

Smooth turns. Balanced weight shifts. A clean, flowing attack pattern.

Everyone noticed.

Falco raised a brow. Moore folded his arms.

"That wasn’t in the manual," Moore muttered.

True enough, Luca’s tweaks had solved most of the synchronization issues. The cha wasn’t fighting him anymore. It was responding.

And while Luca celebrated this with a small fist-pump in the cockpit, the rest of the class watched in silence.

Until soone marched up to Instructor Falco.

"Can we spar?" one student asked.

"With Luca," said another.

And then ca the third, fourth, and fifth.

The goal?

See just how equal that C-class cha really made the playing field.

Poor Instructor Falco.

He couldn’t depend on the bell this ti around.

But while Instructor Falco hesitated, Luca was genuinely thankful.

He even bead and said, "Oh! Thank you! I was really hoping soone would volunteer as a test subject!"

The others stared.

Was he...mocking them?

He wasn’t. Definitely not; he just didn’t think that people would be this accommodating outside of those from their own house.

So the excited calibrator, who had already begun jogging his cha toward the field, looked positively thrilled, but thankfully, no one could see his face inside the cockpit or soone would’ve been vomiting blood.

The matches began.

It didn’t take long.

In one fight, he used a slip-turn maneuver that dislocated the opponent’s blade arm.

In another, he ducked low and hit the knee joints, flipping the cha like a pancake.

By the fifth match, the crowd had gone quiet.

Luca bowed each ti, saying, "I think I learned a lot! Thank you!"

Which sounded polite. Sincere, even.

But to the ones who were beaten with a few particular hits.

It felt personal. They weren’t even dismantled. Were they not deserving???

Then Luca said, "I think I can do a bit more tuning! Please give a mont! I swear it won’t be long!"

He did. Another round of calibration.

And then, as if nothing had happened, he looked around hopefully, praying that another kind soul would be willing to test this out.

"Would anyone else like to try?"

This ti, several A-rank cadets stepped forward.

No smiles. No small talk.

They kept their distance.

Because even without power tools, Luca had still managed to expose every weak spot in those generic B-class chas.

And now, they were determined.

Because this ti?

They were not going to underestimate him. And they sure as hell won’t even get close!

But more than anything, he’s got to be tired by now, right?