The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 772: A Sky Painted With Nations

"Mom! Dad! Look over there!"

A tiny voice pierced the morning air, bright and loud enough to rival the fireworks overhead.

A child, probably no older than six, was bouncing in place while tugging on her parents’ sleeves with all the urgency of soone who had discovered a new galaxy.

Her eyes were completely round, her mouth hanging open as her little finger pointed sharply at the sky.

Above them, dayti smoke-shell fireworks burst in brilliant swirls. Reds, blues, golds, and shimring silver spiraled outward like painted cot tails. The air crackled with the unmistakable sound of celebratory explosions.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

People roared in excitent. Cheers rolled over the crowd like a tidal wave. Claps, whistles, and ecstatic shouting filled the streets lining the entrance plaza of the Imperial Summit Exhibition Center.

Just then, a solemn honorary silence suddenly descended as three unmistakable figures of the Imperial Family stepped out onto the balcony, standing tall above thousands of attendees.

Like a wave, the people bowed and showed respect to their sovereigns, and it was truly a sight to see when even those watching at ho or at work showed their reverence one way or the other.

Then, without the need for long-winded speeches, the Emperor lifted his hand for the ceremony to begin...

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three thunderous blasts erupted across the sky.

The child yelled again. "It’s starting! It’s starting!"

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Amazed gasps rippled through the streets.

High above the crowds, fighter crafts streaked across the sky in tight formation. They looped, twisted, and spiraled, drawing trails of light behind them. The stunts were sharp and flawless. People scread with awe each ti one jet nearly brushed past another.

Then, with a dramatic swoop, several jets descended low and released glittering cascades of confetti.

Gold. Red. White. And blue. Thousands of pieces rained down like a sparkling storm.

On the ground, Imperial soldiers marched forward behind the Marshal. Their armor glinted with the morning light. Their boots moved in perfect rhythm. The Imperial Guards followed suit, their formations crisp and intimidating as they surrounded the entrance of the Expo Hall.

Every step seed to shake the very air.

They marched until they reached the massive doors of the hall. Then they diverged into flawless formations, guarding the entrance like statues carved from steel.

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Up at the balcony, Princess Nina clung to the railing with white-knuckled excitent.

She was very clearly losing the fight against her own impulses.

Her entire body was itching to lean forward. Her foot tapped. Her eyes sparkled like she wanted to leap off the balcony and join the parade herself.

Even the military had put in more effort this year.

She could feel it.

And she couldn’t be more excited!

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Then ca the delegations.

Each one entered according to the order they had drawn.

First up...

The Dwarves.

The runway, wide and long like an actual aircraft landing strip, rumbled.

Everyone leaned forward.

Engines revved.

RMMmmm–VRRRRRRMMMM!

The dwarves ca barreling in on modified motorcrafts that looked like the unholy lovechild of a motorcycle and a hover jeep. They drifted. Actually drifted. Full sideways turns in perfect synchrony.

People scread.

Soone yelled, "Why are they drifting?! They are drifting in the parade!"

The dwarf at the front revved once more, sparks flying from his exhaust, before spinning sharply into his designated spot.

The crowd went wild.

But the noise only grew louder.

Because next ca the Orcs.

The ground trembled.

A massive beast appeared. A creature resembling a giant mammoth, covered in ceremonial armor and glowing tribal markings. Atop it, King Garrick himself sat like a mountain carved into flesh and muscle.

Behind him, the orc warriors burst into a thunderous performance. Sothing between a battle chant and a war ritual. Their steps pounded the ground. Their chests vibrated with powerful roars and rhythmic claps.

The air thickened with adrenaline.

The crowd cheered like they wanted to join the orchish army on the spot.

Princess Nina slapped both hands over her mouth, eyes trembling in awe. "They are so cool," she whispered, starstruck beyond salvation.

But before she could even exclaim about it to her parents, the skies changed again.

This ti, it was a stark contrast.

The Aeruns. A race that thrived on planets mostly made up of peaks.

Winged humanoids descended in graceful spirals, never once touching the ground. Their wings glimred. Their hair flowed like threads of starlight. They flew in synchronized patterns, performing aerial acrobatics that left the audience speechless.

They swooped low over the runway, then shot upward as if to pierce the sky itself.

People shrieked.

Even terminals were raised because the desire to take photos beca a biological instinct.

But if their grace and srizing performance triggered the desire to increase dia coverage, the next ones would be for very different reasons.

The Elves.

Their entrance was visually stunning.

Elegant chariots glided down the runway as blooming flowers showered the air.

It was insane. Not only were those flowers raining down like a consolation for everyone they had passed, but people had also started noticing how they had faint traces of spiritual energy.

The splendor! The excess!

Children squealed and reached out to catch them while adults tried to play it cool, only to fail miserably.

Over Star Net, however, the reaction was even more explosive. They couldn’t really grasp the obsession with the flowers, but unlike the others, they could clearly see sothing more scandalous.

Because the leading figure atop the main chariot was not Crown Prince Eren.

Apparently, it was soone nad Prince Elior.

To most humans, this was shocking news, and they’ve really only heard of Prince Eren. And yet now they can’t possibly ignore the fact that he was most definitely sporting the sa face!

A twin!

Comnt sections imploded.

Rumors ford instantly.

But before more speculation could detonate further, the crowd’s attention was pulled back to the runway.

Because the final foreign delegation approached.

The Federation.

And the people of the great Empire instinctively held their breath.