The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 365: Tournament

The Mylor couple couldn’t really believe their eyes.

At the surface of it all, the whole thing looked absolutely chaotic.

When they said it would be in a battle royale format, the couple expected a few people to group up before fighting each other.

But what was this?

This was absolute chaos.

This was every man and woman for themselves!

However, what made the fight unusual was the sheer disregard for spiritual ability limitations.

Just like their children said, this was, by definition, cool.

So unexpectedly cool, in fact, that even Marquise Julienne leaned forward, eyes glinting with genuine curiosity. "Do they all belong to the regiment under the House of Kyros?" she murmured to her husband.

"It’s been decades since I’ve seen combatants allowed to let loose like this." And she didn’t even get to see those first hand, they only got to see those from archived records used to teach about combat using spiritual energy.

The moment the first powered blow was thrown—a guard launching a spinning kick amplified by a pulse of raw spiritual energy—the Mylor couple reflexively tensed, wondering if the arena would hold under the strain.

Surprisingly, only the center stage was affected by some ingenious means.

"Mom! Look!" Ollie practically bounced next to her, pointing eagerly. "There’s a cool force field around it that nullifies the external attacks! We actually want to replicate that! Imagine if we could turn it into a mecha shield!"

"And how’s that working out, son?" asked the father, who was curious about his son’s contribution to all this.

Ollie puffed up, then sagged a little, shaking his head regretfully. "Not so well. We don’t want to dismantle this one here to study it, so we’re trying to reverse-engineer it using other blueprints. But we’re not giving up!"

If they managed to figure out how to keep energy in, they would definitely be able to figure out a way to keep it out!

Not like there is much demand for that right now. He shrugged.

So maybe they could deal with that once they figure out all the mecha upgrades they need to put into as many mechas as possible.

Also, his good brother was still busy making a little body for D-64. Two prototypes had already been made, but the little guy seemed to find them awkward to move in.

But all thoughts of prototypes vanished when one of the guards flicked what seemed like a spiritual whip that startled the audience.

In reality, Ollie couldn’t see the actual whip, not just yet, but he’s been able to feel spiritual energy better and could definitely tell that something big must have happened.

Apparently, it latched onto an opponent’s leg with a sharp snap, and with a powerful tug, a hapless fighter was flung clean out of the ring, landing with a surprised yelp in a heap.

The audience gasped collectively, including some of the staff who didn’t quite have visual resonance. After all, someone was just thrown off the stage.

Now inside the ring, the battle was heating up.

Multiple guards were now weaving in and out, fighting with breathtaking intensity. Spiritual energy manifested in sharp-edged constructions, dense barriers, or as an amplifier for their strikes.

One guard ducked low, his arms flaring with something resembling gauntlets of reinforced spirit, as he blocked a two-handed spiritual blade swung overhead.

Another retaliated by projecting small throwing disks of energy, zipping through the air in a fast flurry, only to have them batted aside by an opponent conjuring a fan-like shield that flexed on impact.

The crowd roared.

Onlookers leaned forward, captivated, whispering excitedly as the fighters shifted between offensive and defensive forms—a living demonstration inspired by the sparring match many had witnessed earlier between Duchess Amelia and Xavier.

Near the edge of the viewing platform, Luca watched with wide, gleaming eyes, absorbing everything like a sponge.

His hands tightened around his terminal as he tried capturing something for the first time.

Luca had always fought with the tendrils staying attached to him, but like this, the guards were able to use them in such a manner.

He was enraptured.

The guards, meanwhile, roared and grunted with effort, but their faces shone with exhilaration. They fought like men and women revitalized, unburdened by the usual strain of spiritual energy depletion.

This battle royale lasted far longer than anyone expected. With several of the participants now fighting like their lives depended on it, the energy in the arena reached a fever pitch.

One particular fight broke away from the general chaos, commanding the audience’s undivided attention.

Two guards—one burly, with thick gauntlets of pure spiritual reinforcement; the other lean and fast, wielding a blade connected to his forearm—circled each other carefully, measured steps, eyes sharp.

The tension was palpable.

Suddenly, the burly guard lunged, fists slamming down with crushing force, but the blade-wielder slipped aside, slicing a delicate arc of spiritual energy across the other’s thigh, making the larger man stumble.

The crowd inhaled sharply.

But the burly guard snarled, swinging his arm wide, his spiritual gauntlet expanded mid-swing, transforming into a heavy construct that smashed into the ground with a thundering shockwave.

The blade-wielder barely evaded, rolling out of reach and retaliating with a storm of swift strikes, darting in and out like a shadow.

It was fast.

Tense.

Every movement had the audience on edge.

With several people from the bleachers rising from their seats. Even the seasoned vassals stood still, their gazes sharp as they watched their people battle it out while murmuring among themselves.

Luca gripped the edge of the railing, heart pounding in his chest, eyes shining.

He really wanted to fight like that!

And the prince who was beside him saw all of it and figured he must try his best to improve his fighting stance, or a parade of this might just enamour his wife.

Because right now, he looked ready to go down there and look.

It was this desire to look again, but at the same time, he was glad that his little chipmunk was enjoying such a thing.

After all, it was one of the things that unconsciously stressed him out.

Would Luca start hating him if he knew just how violent he could be?

Only to now see how taken he was with watching such a thing. Then maybe training a bit more and a few broken ribs here and there wouldn’t be so bad.

And at least it wouldn’t be as difficult as his adjutant over there, who had to start explaining just where and how they were using spiritual energy like he was detailing a blow-by-blow account.

However, Kyle seemed fine taking on the job, but who would’ve known it wouldn’t be one he’d need to do forever, as a certain someone’s generosity would mark the dawn of advancement.