The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 445: Destiny

Rationally speaking, anyone with one eye—hell, even just half an eyelid cracked open—should have already pieced together what was going on when even the most oblivious person on the planet managed to realize that sothing was off.

But the mind was a curious thing, especially when it preferred fantasy over fact.

And Lyka Vela? She was an expert at sculpting fantasy.

She wasn’t just so infatuated girl. No, no. In her mind, she was a protagonist in a long-awaited romantic epic—one that had been fifteen years in the making.

While most people wouldn’t be able to tell what they were doing when they were four, one girl could definitely say that it was when she had her redefining mont of seeing and eting her first love.

And what a journey it had been.

She still rembered the mont. On a pristine palace balcony during a noble gathering, she looked down and saw him: Kyle Nox. Radiant even back then, laughing with other children like the sun had chosen to shine on no one else. That day, she claid destiny as her ally.

She’d tallied every palace invitation where she might breathe the sa air as him. She’d analyzed every potential family tie. She even listed all the tis their nas were ntioned in the sa breath, even if separated by an entire alphabet.

Obviously, fate was working in her favor, as there were many such incidents, especially after whispers spread that his parents were scouting for future marriage prospects. Her family submitted their qualifications faster than people trying to send in their tax docunts.

It was a done deal, and she didn’t even lose hope after realizing that there were hundreds of candidates.

That just ant having to eliminate the rest or being better than the competitors, right?

So she toiled.

Everything that a noble lady must do was done, and all those competitors assessed so that she could always maintain her rightful edge as the first person who loved him.

And while she had setbacks. Like when she couldn’t find him anywhere for a few years, eventually, they still ended up in the sa school, which was really the sign for all signs.

Now this? A crystalquake. A dramatic rescue. His powerful cha erging through smoke and ruin? This wasn’t just a coincidence. It was a set piece.

It was cinematic.

So what if he had soone beside him now? So boy clad in his coat? That was nothing. A bump in the road. A re footnote like the other footnotes she had been prepared to erase.

Because in Lyka Vela’s mind, this wasn’t about reality.

This was about the endga.

And the endga didn’t leave room for blonde obstacles.

She was montarily shocked after realizing that Kyle had co down with soone else, but it didn’t matter because it must have been a rescue he’d had to perform as a valiant person with a great upbringing.

In the end, Kyle was still here for her. She was the damsel. She was the mont.

She was certain.

So when she saw Kyle approaching the division instructors, she smiled serenely to herself. Of course. He was just being professional. Giving his report. Wrapping up formalities before seeking her out.

She’d wait. Like the last rose of spring. Let everyone else thank him first.

Then she limped—as gracefully as possible, delicately—forward, clutching her theatrically bandaged ankle and placing her hand over her heart.

"Kyle," she said, voice breathy, like she’d been dreaming of him this whole ti. "Thank you for coming to rescue earlier. I wouldn’t have made it without you."

She tid it perfectly.

Kyle turned, regarded her evenly, then replied, "It was Ollie who identified the safe breach point. I just did the digging."

Her smile faltered for a split second. Then she pushed on. "Still. I’ll be sure to tell your parents about the life you saved." She blushed. Lowered her eyes. "They’ll be so proud of you."

Kyle’s brow lifted. "Oh? You know my parents?"

And here it was—her mont to shine.

"Of course!" Lyka practically sparkled. "We’ve been family friends for years! I used to see you all the ti at events. Rember?"

Kyle didn’t answer imdiately.

Now that her face was clean of all the dust, he finally recognized her from the photo in the database. This was the suspicious woman connected to the box, to Ollie’s roommate, and now she was weaving herself straight into his radar. Her presence was like a reminder of those days when attending court was an issue. That smile, that voice, it reminded him of those palace days filled with poisonous wine and backhanded complints.

Which was why he let her continue. Hoping she’d give sothing away.

She didn’t. Just more saccharine mories.

Kyle shifted slightly. "I should return to my team."

But Lyka wouldn’t let go of the mont. She lunged—not too fast, not too eager—just enough to seem desperate.

"Wait!" she cried. "I still owe you! Let repay this sohow. Maybe we could talk later? Catch up properly? I an—it’s been so long. Our families would be thrilled."

She emphasized her limp, her eyes shining as if she were on the verge of tears.

Surely, surely he’d take the bait.

But Kyle didn’t.

"There’s no need to thank us," he said. "It’s part of the job."

Then, with barely a pause, he turned to the students nearby. "She might need help getting to the infirmary. Soone should escort her."

A clean, professional dismissal.

But in Lyka’s eyes?

He was just shy.

Of course, he couldn’t express himself in public. He was too noble. Too composed. Too overwheld by the mont.

And telling people to take her to the infirmary? That was concern. That was care.

She let herself be guided away, but her gaze never left him.

This was fate. Everyone could see how perfect they looked together. And that blond thing in the coat? Probably just a charity case. Kyle had always been generous.

She smiled to herself, eyes dreamy.

She just had to get rid of that minor inconvenience.

Because everything else was already perfect.

And with structural assessnts underway and people instructed to remain in place until it was deed safe to return, Lyka decided the ti was now.

A perfect audience. A perfect setting. A perfect opportunity.

She held onto Kyle’s earlier words—how he credited Ollie with identifying the breach. And from that, she had a revelation. If Kyle wanted people to appreciate Ollie’s contribution... then she would lead the charge.

Of course, it would be with flair.

Of course, it would be public.

She returned, freshly cleaned up, posture impeccable despite the subtle limp. Her bandaged ankle, which she refused to fix was prominently displayed. Every step was a performance.

Then she smiled—radiant and confident—as she called out, loud enough for others to hear:

"Excuse , are you Ollie Mylor?"

Heads turned.

Ollie blinked. His na? Why?

She approached with an eerily familiar box in hand.

"I just wanted to thank you," Lyka bead, extending the box toward him. "Kyle said you were the reason we were able to escape. So I prepared a little gift."

People stared.

Ollie stared harder at first, thinking it was a coincidence, but...

This was the box. Or a box like it. Or worse—the sa kind of box. And the note? It was on the sa stationery.

His entire spirit made a tiny scream.

"I-I...I don’t think I can accept this..." Ollie tried, already reaching out to push it back. "It’s too much."

"Oh no," Lyka said, eyes wide and soft. "You’re rejecting it? Was it not good enough?"

Her voice trembled. Her bottom lip wobbled.

Ollie panicked. "No—no! I an—it’s just—"

Before he could finish, Kyle placed a large hand around Ollie’s waist and tugged him back into the safety of his side.

The effect was imdiate.

Ollie turned pink.

Kyle didn’t say a word. Just held him there. Fingers firm, palm wide, anchoring him with casual possessiveness.

Ollie almost stopped breathing.

But Lyka? Lyka took it another way.

He was just protecting Ollie from embarrassnt. From the public eye. It made sense. Her Kyle was noble. Dignified. Careful not to sha anyone publicly, especially when he probably knew how weird in the head Ollie was.

It only furthered her belief that he was perfect.

anwhile, the miscommunication tripled.

Ollie thought he was being courted. By a girl. This girl.

While Kyle was trying to make sense of her actual goal, especially after her attempts at cornering him.

anwhile, Lyka was absolutely certain she was demonstrating Ollie’s ntal instability or disagreeableness to everyone.

"I’m sorry," Lyka said gently. "I just wanted to be closer to you."

Ollie choked.

But as if his instincts knew of trouble, his great stomach growled.

Audibly.

Kyle glanced down, used that as an excuse to lean closer. "You hungry?"

"I-I...Yes!" Ollie squeaked. He initially thought it was embarrassing, but wasn’t being stuck here worse?

"Then let’s go. I’ll feed you first."

Kyle didn’t even look at Lyka.

He just guided Ollie away.

anwhile, a certain forum was already exploding.

And one tall princess, who had been watching from the side with her arms crossed, squinted at Lyka with narrowed eyes.

"I don’t like the sll of that woman," she muttered to her aide, who could only take note as usual.

After all, she didn’t want a human torn to pieces right before the Orc King arrived.