The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 532

Chapter 532: Selection

Who knows? But as if the heavens liked playing favorites, suddenly scrutiny wasn’t just a problem for one young husband.

"You’re saying there are ten spots? As in one-zero?"

"Yes! Are you deaf?! Ten! Literal! Spots!"

"Wow!"

"I know! Whoever gets picked will probably go down in history!"

Excited voices rose and fell around him, echoing through the massive hall.

Yet, Luca stood there with a confused expression because he hadn’t expected the turnout for today’s selection.

If anything, it really seemed like he was the only one who thought this whole thing had been blown way out of proportion.

Steward Han reserved the largest hall they had in the dungeon-linked space, and even the staff assigned to the bakery had been kind enough to prepare snacks and refreshments, as if they expected the entire ordeal to take ages.

Because it would, and everyone knew, maybe save for their Young Lord, who didn’t think it would be such a big deal.

However, he’d been made aware that the soldiers had begun clamoring to duel each other, wanting to figure out a way to rightfully deserve the position.

And they were all agreeing because everyone wanted to be undisputed. Wanting to really deserve what they kept calling "their young lord’s grace."

"..."

Now, how they could call it that was something that was beyond Luca’s comprehension. However, he understood the desire for fairness and respect.

No one wanted to earn a spot they couldn’t be proud of.

So, Luca had a dilemma.

How exactly was he supposed to test the pilots?

He couldn’t just make them fight like they did during the last tournament. That wouldn’t help much here.

And just considering their ranks alone wouldn’t be enough. Because it was one thing to be born with a higher rating, but another to be able to use it efficiently.

So the conflicted mechanic asked the elders for help.

They had once provided him with knowledge about the testing stone; maybe they would also know of a way to test endurance and efficiency.

And, sure enough, they did.

While the elders couldn’t give a name for a particular device, they did mention looking at things with suppression. In this concept, a person would be required to maintain a consistent level of spiritual energy while taking fatigue into account.

And that was how Luca ended up installing a plug-in called the "Spiritual Resilience Testing Module: Suppression Series for 50,000 CP."

He bought it with just a twitch of ONE eye this time, installed it, and planned to test it privately before showing it to everyone.

That was the plan.

But as usual, his plans got derailed.

Because he underestimated how long it would take D-29 to adjust the settings to match the Empire’s spiritual energy conventions.

And the moment it finished, Cece happened to walk by.

She saw the machine.

Her eyes sparkled like she’d just discovered a new mineral.

And obviously, she immediately told everyone about it.

And now here they were.

Hundreds of spectators. Packed into the largest hall. Eager. Noisy. Hungry for glory and mostly hungry for bread.

Luca rubbed the side of his face, trying not to sigh too loudly.

Master Quinn strolled up beside him, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment.

"Don’t look so stiff, Young Lord," Quinn said. His voice was low, amused. "If you’re not careful, they’ll eat you alive before the test even starts."

Luca gave him a helpless look.

But Master Quinn just clapped him on the shoulder and started.

The moment the master mechanic stepped forward, the noise vanished.

One second, the hall was full of chatter and excitement. The next, it was as if someone flipped a switch. Every pilot straightened up. Shoulders squared. Eyes forward.

You’d think they were waiting for an Imperial inspection.

Quinn’s deep voice cut through the air.

"As of now," he barked, "we have eighty-four pilots. All with a rating of A or higher. All of you here have volunteered. You’ve recovered enough to return to piloting, and you want to earn your place back in a cockpit."

"Yes, sir!"

The embarrassment! His blood pressure!

Cough.

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