The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 941: Have You Heard

"Yooo! Man! Have you heard—"

"Heard what?!" a suddenly curious officer asked, already leaning in.

"Ahem."

Marshal Julian appeared like he’d spawned straight out of a shadow. The two unsuspecting soldiers nearly collided as they snapped to attention, parting so fast it looked like someone had set them on fire.

"Marshal!"

They saluted so hard that one of them almost smacked himself in the face.

Only then did they dare glance up.

And immediately wished they hadn’t.

The man looked like he hadn’t slept in a year.

Which was startling, considering that just a week ago, he had looked so suspiciously rejuvenated that people couldn’t help but assume he had found the fountain of youth.

But now?

He looked like all that youth had filed a formal complaint and left.

Yikes.

The only logical survival tactic was to salute and run as far as humanely possible.

Unfortunately, before either soldier could initiate their escape, two firm hands landed on their shoulders.

"And where," Marshal Julian asked softly, almost pleasantly, "do you think you’re going?"

It wasn’t loud. Not exactly angry.

No. It was worse.

It was ghostly.

The kind of tone that crawled straight up the spine and built a home there.

The two soldiers froze.

Sweat beaded instantly at their temples.

"N-nowhere, sir!" one of them croaked.

"Just, uh, routine patrol, sir!" the other added, looking like he was actively fighting for his digestive system to cooperate.

Marshal Julian’s gaze flicked between them.

"Have you seen Deputy Officer Curtis?"

The question landed like a grenade.

The two soldiers wanted to scream that, of course, they hadn’t.

Except they had.

Well, not directly.

But it wasn’t like everyone didn’t know where Deputy Officer Curtis tended to be during break times since that fateful day.

But who in their right mind would gossip with the Marshal about his own adjutant?

Silence stretched.

Both men stared straight ahead, faces stiff, expressions suspiciously constipated.

"Sir," one of them tried bravely, "we, uh—"

"Marshal?"

The voice cut in smoothly.

The soldiers nearly wept in relief.

Because who in this entire base would dare interrupt Marshal Julian mid-interrogation?

Eden.

Of course, it was Eden.

She walked towards them with a jug in one hand, posture relaxed, gaze steady.

"Are you looking for Curtis?" she asked casually, as if this were a completely normal conversation between equals and not an interaction that could potentially end careers.

The two soldiers stiffened even harder.

Who talked to the Marshal like that and lived to tell about it?

Apparently, she did.

Regularly.

But sure enough, not only was she fierce and courageous, but she also saved two innocent souls by guiding the Marshal to her lair, where, according to accounts from said woman, a certain Curtis was being held voluntarily.

Voluntarily?

There were so many things to unpack from that single word, but Marshal Julian just couldn’t be bothered to hear it again when he already suffered once.

Moreover, there were just a mountain more of things to deal with than the domestication of his adjutant that he had already seen coming from lightyears away, anyway.

So overall, he was just going to ignore what he could see with his eyes as he entered Eden’s "office."

However, what the poor Marshal couldn’t take was his adjutant opening his mouth with, "Marshal, have you heard—"

Oh hell no.

Hell fucking no.

That was practically the seventh time he’d heard someone start a sentence with "have you heard," and for some reason, it triggered something primal in him.

If he heard it one more time, Marshal Julian was fairly certain he would voluntarily check himself into an institution.

But why?

How could such a simple phrase cause this much damage?

Ha.

He should’ve known better the very first time it happened.

"Uncle! Have you heard the good news?"

Princess Nina had burst into his office that day, eyes sparkling and feet barely touching the ground. She’d finally learned to contain her strength, though faint crack marks still appeared wherever she landed too hard from excitement. Like that time.

"Huh? Good news? Which one?" he’d asked, relaxed and unsuspecting.

"Brother Chipmunk said I’m going to have a new friend!"

"...A new friend?"

"Yes, Uncle!"

"Ah. Then yes, that’s great news."

He’d been well-rested back then. Calm. Stable. Entirely unaware that peace was about to pack its bags.

"It is, right?" Nina had continued happily. "We just have to rescue her first! Then afterwards, my big brothers said I could befriend her!"

"Sorry, what?"

She’d smiled even wider.

"I will befriend her!"

"No, Nina," he’d said carefully, feeling a pit forming in his stomach. "The rescue part. You said rescue, right? Who and from what?"

"Oh! That. It’s Marin! They say she’s really cute, likes to draw, and has at least one good brother. Unfortunately, her other brother seems to be keeping her hostage, so we have to rescue her first."

He remembered the exact moment his headache began.

"Have you heard more news, Uncle? Because I heard my big brother sent a party to go after the ship she’s on!"

"!"

"Nina. Which ship?"

"The bad brother! Prince Eren’s ship!"

"!!!"

Marshal Julian had closed his eyes and counted from one to forever.

And that was only the beginning.

The next time he heard the same cursed phrase was from his own sister.

"Julian, have you heard about what Luca found inside Prince Elior’s body?"

"...No."

Safe to say, the Marshal of the Solaris Empire had not, in fact, heard about whatever had been found inside an elven prince. He had been preoccupied with learning about an alleged hostage situation involving another royal and a ship belonging to Prince Eren.

So it was only then that he was learning about the threat that could have rocked the Empire.

He really needed to find the Imperial Crown Prince.

Unfortunately, he did.

And somehow, after hearing the updates from Xavier, Marshal Julian briefly wished he hadn’t.

Because now what?

What exactly was he supposed to do with the avalanche of information he kept receiving, like it was a subscription service he never signed up for?

Apparently, a team led by Marquise Julienne’s subordinates had granted D-29 access to Princess Marin’s ship by tagging it during a brief supply docking.

With that in place, they’d been monitoring for inconsistencies and news.

But apparently, things didn’t stop with just espionage. Because while Xavier and the rest were busy trying to figure out what Prince Eren was up to, his excitable wife was busy with something else.

Apparently, Luca was in full celebratory mode after discovering a method to produce ideal Lumen crystal seeds. He realized that by using bloodline abilities of fire and ice to regulate temperature instead of relying on modern machinery, they would be able to make the best starters.

Ah, but the Marshal’s newest relative didn’t stop there and had since started distributing crystal seeds. And now everyone present in their group looked like they were capable of replacing the current elven royal family, whose sacred birthright was now being treated like party favors, with the express permission of one Prince Elior.

Then again, at that time, just when Julian thought that preparing for impending war or invasion was all he had to think about, the poor Marshal ran into another exhausted soul in the dungeon space.

"Marshal, I’m late in hearing about this, but I just need to confirm, have you heard that Princess Kira’s fiancé has finally been found?"

He stared at the man, a much younger one who, unfortunately, also looked like he’d aged a great bit in just a few days.

"...No."

"Ah. Then I suppose I can’t confirm his identity with you."

"Why? Who is it?"

"Apparently, it’s Prince Elior. The kid who cleaned the chicken coop."

"..."

"..."

Silence settled between two grown adults who had dedicated their lives to protecting the Empire and yet could not keep up with its gossip.

Sure enough, none of them were entitled to peaceful lives.

Marshal Julian didn’t even know who he was supposed to strangle first as he turned on his heel and began issuing orders to prepare for war.

He wasn’t sure what kind of involvement the Empire would have in all this, but if anything, they should at least prepare for the wrath of one spurned Orcish father.

But what do you know? Not only was the Marshal’s head about to ache from having to deal with all that, but he also had a few things to settle in his own backyard.

Because when the man—who felt like his spleen was aching from distress—came back, he was surprised to see a holographic tablet on his table and a very suspicious package.

Marshal Julian really didn’t want to come near his desk.

But he was the military’s leader and really shouldn’t be scared of colorfully wrapped items when he had seen worse.

However, when the holographic screen turned on, and the Marshal started reading words that certainly looked like disciplinary action, the man, who was too young for heart failure, screeched for the heavens, "CURTIS!"