The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 510: The True Orc

The sound of boots thundered through the quiet manor, dozens of feet pounding toward the kitchen.

So many people were rushing that it almost drowned out the blaring alarms still screaming in the halls.

When they reached the kitchen doors, the alarms finally cut off, replaced by a flashing message on the nearest wall panel and across every staff terminal:

[NOTICE: ASSAILANT SUBDUED.]

[CAUTION: UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE DETECTED. HAZMAT SUITS REQUIRED.]

The calm, clinical prompts blinked in quiet contrast to the chaos just moments ago.

There was a moment of tense silence as the guards and staff hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

And then someone stepped forward.

Butler Gary.

His room was closest to the kitchen, and of course, he was the first to arrive.

With a practiced motion, he pulled a hazmat suit from his space button—one of many precautions he’d started taking after that one unforgettable dungeon incident.

The kitchen doors slid open.

And inside, under the stark white lights, lay a giant Orc sprawled on the ground.

His massive body was pelted with five giant tranquilizer needles still embedded in his hide.

At his side, a small bottle lay on the floor, cracked open. Its faint, dark contents glimmered with a sinister sheen.

Butler Gary stared.

And then sighed.

"..."

"D-29. Is he alive?"

A moment later, the kitchen screen lit up with a response:

[UNFORTUNATELY.]

Gary’s lips pressed into a thin line as he adjusted the cuff of his suit.

"The Duke and Duchess will need to see this."

He crouched slightly, studying the Orc’s face with caution.

"And D-29... if you have footage of this..."

Gary stood again, his gaze hard as stone.

"...prepare a copy. Because one King is going to want to see this."

Actually, the King would rather not concern himself with the petty affairs of humans.

Not really.

Instead, he thought, at the very least, it might still be possible to convince Kira to return home.

For her safety, of course.

In this way, he could stay rational, right?

Wrong.

Because this trip was about to become the most eye-opening experience of his life.

Just when the ear-piercing alarms stopped, the door to his room slammed open.

Yes, slammed.

But just before the King could behead someone for this insolence, he saw that standing there, with her arms crossed and eyes blazing, was his very own daughter.

Who, with her sharp, cold, and absolutely furious voice, said, "Father. Grakkar has been detained."

For a second, King Garick just blinked at her.

It was early. Too early. And that did not sound like a morning greeting.

Grakkar?

His trusted nephew?

Garick stared at her in stunned silence, still sitting on the edge of his bed as her words sank in.

Well, this morning had already taken a turn—only it was about to get even worse.

King Garick stood in the center of the kitchen, his massive arms crossed, his expression dark enough to make the staff shrink back.

On the floor, Grakkar knelt, restrained and newly awakened from his forced slumber, his head lowered just enough to hide the defiance in his eyes.

The King’s glare bore into him.

"Explain yourself. Now."

Grakkar raised his head slowly.

At first, his voice was calm, pitiful, even.

"This... this is all a misunderstanding. I don’t even know how I ended up here. I—"

He faltered, but the faint smirk on his lips betrayed his confidence.

After all, he still believed in the artifact’s power.

What he didn’t know and what the technology-hating Orc never cared to understand was that just hiding with an artifact was not enough to fool Kyros’ technology.

Not here.

Not under that vengeful system’s watchful eyes. And certainly not after he’d interrupted its precious "research" time.

By now, the leaders and the young members of DG had gathered around, staring at the massive projection that displayed D-29’s captured footage.

Every angle.

Every step Grakkar had taken.

Every muttered word.

There was no denying it now.

King Garick’s anger simmered hotter.

"You dare..." he growled lowly.

Grakkar’s confidence wavered, but he tried to salvage himself.

"I... I was ordered! It wasn’t me! The humans—they were the target!"

There was a murmur in the crowd.

But then Ada stepped forward, her voice calm but cutting.

"If the humans were the target," she said coolly, "then why use Blackroot extract? Won’t that do nothing to them?"

The room fell silent.

All eyes turned to her.

Even King Garick’s eyes widened slightly.

His aide stiffened in shock.

And Princess Kira stared at Ada, confused.

"Ada... what’s this Blackroot thing?"

Ada didn’t flinch as she answered.

"Your Highness. It’s a viscous, faintly bitter liquid distilled from the roots of the Blackroot Vine. A parasitic plant found only in contaminated zones. In its natural state, it is harmless. But when fermented..."

She glanced at Grakkar, her eyes hard.

"...it becomes a neurotoxin. And it’s particularly effective against Orc blood chemistry."

There was a collective gasp from the room.

Ada continued.

"And save for the untested contamination risk, this wouldn’t really do anything to humans at all."

More gasps.

Everyone turned back to the traitor.

Who just laughed.

The quiet, bitter sound quickly grew into a maniacal cackle.

Grakkar’s face twisted, his pitiful act falling away as he sneered at Ada, eyes gleaming with lunacy.

"I see. I see there’s no point in hiding it anymore. Who would’ve thought this little bitch knew of such a thing?"

Ada’s lips barely moved, but her eyes looked murderous.

Technically, she hadn’t been completely sure.

But with D-29’s analysis and all those years studying anything that could harm her intended boss, she figured it had to be somewhere in her notes.

And if she couldn’t guess it right away, she’d just do a process of elimination.

And here he was, affirming her guess.

Princess Kira stared at him, disbelief written all over her face.

"Grakkar...? My cousin? You...you really are a traitor?"

This was shocking to Kira, who thought they’d always had a great relationship. But even a rock couldn’t miss what Ada’s words and his confirmation implied. He was actually after them—the Orcs, his supposed family.

Grakkar only spat blood on the floor—blood that had pooled in his mouth from the King’s earlier punch.

"Me? A traitor?" he barked out a humorless laugh.

"No. If anything... It’s you. You’re the traitor. Siding with humans."

His lips curled into a bitter grin.

"If you ask our tribespeople, they’d give me an award. For being a true Orc."

The guards flinched. No one would have been surprised if anyone had instinctively stepped back.

But surprisingly, the cadets weren’t even fazed. After all, hadn’t they just dealt with a smaller version of this one?

Grakkar raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, his smile unhinged.

"You’re all pathetic."

His words dripped venom.

"Bowing to these weaklings. Groveling at their feet. Do you even hear yourselves?"

He spat to the side, his sneer cutting like a blade.

"You think this ends here? You think killing me changes anything? You’re wrong. Even if I die, the truth stays the same—she’s a traitor. And you—"

He jabbed a finger at King Garick, his grin sharp as glass.

"—You’re a coward. Too scared to even start what should’ve been done ages ago. But maybe we were also at fault. At fault for thinking that your sister was enough of a sacrifice."

The King’s eyes flashed.

He stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous.

"...What did you just say?"

Grakkar smirked, his head lolling lazily to the side as he chuckled darkly.

"Ah. She wasn’t enough. Now maybe with this dumbo..."

And then his jaw tensed.

His eyes glinted as he bit down—

Or tried to.

But nothing happened.

His mouth wouldn’t close.

His teeth couldn’t connect.

And his eyes went wide in confused, mounting terror.

"?!"

He let out a muffled grunt as a thin golden glow wrapped tightly over his jaw.

Luca tilted his head slightly, golden eyes wide and worried as he held his hand out.

"Sorry!" Luca said hastily. "D-29 said you’d probably try to get rid of yourself. Apparently, villains always have to have the last laugh. So I blocked his mouth."

The room stayed silent.

"..."

And King Garick just loomed closer, his massive shadow swallowing the trembling Orc on the floor.

Grakkar’s eyes flicked up to meet him, only to realize he was utterly, completely, fucked.