The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]
Chapter 445: Destiny
CHAPTER 445: DESTINY
Rationally speaking, anyone with one eye—hell, even just half an eyelid cracked open—should have already pieced together what was going on when even the most oblivious person on the planet managed to realize that something was off.
But the mind was a curious thing, especially when it preferred fantasy over fact.
And Lyka Vela? She was an expert at sculpting fantasy.
She wasn’t just some infatuated girl. No, no. In her mind, she was a protagonist in a long-awaited romantic epic—one that had been fifteen years in the making.
While most people wouldn’t be able to tell what they were doing when they were four, one girl could definitely say that it was when she had her redefining moment of seeing and meeting her first love.
And what a journey it had been.
She still remembered the moment. On a pristine palace balcony during a noble gathering, she looked down and saw him: Kyle Nox. Radiant even back then, laughing with other children like the sun had chosen to shine on no one else. That day, she claimed destiny as her ally.
She’d tallied every palace invitation where she might breathe the same air as him. She’d analyzed every potential family tie. She even listed all the times their names were mentioned in the same breath, even if separated by an entire alphabet.
Obviously, fate was working in her favor, as there were many such incidents, especially after whispers spread that his parents were scouting for future marriage prospects. Her family submitted their qualifications faster than people trying to send in their tax documents.
It was a done deal, and she didn’t even lose hope after realizing that there were hundreds of candidates.
That just meant having to eliminate the rest or being better than the competitors, right?
So she toiled.
Everything that a noble lady must do was done, and all those competitors assessed so that she could always maintain her rightful edge as the first person who loved him.
And while she had setbacks. Like when she couldn’t find him anywhere for a few years, eventually, they still ended up in the same school, which was really the sign for all signs.
Now this? A crystalquake. A dramatic rescue. His powerful mecha emerging through smoke and ruin? This wasn’t just a coincidence. It was a set piece.
It was cinematic.
So what if he had someone beside him now? Some boy clad in his coat? That was nothing. A bump in the road. A mere footnote like the other footnotes she had been prepared to erase.
Because in Lyka Vela’s mind, this wasn’t about reality.
This was about the endgame.
And the endgame didn’t leave room for blonde obstacles.
She was momentarily shocked after realizing that Kyle had come down with someone else, but it didn’t matter because it must have been a rescue he’d had to perform as a valiant person with a great upbringing.
In the end, Kyle was still here for her
. She was the damsel. She was the moment.
She was certain.
So when she saw Kyle approaching the division instructors, she smiled serenely to herself. Of course. He was just being professional. Giving his report. Wrapping up formalities before seeking her out.
She’d wait. Like the last rose of spring. Let everyone else thank him first.
Then she limped—as gracefully as possible, delicately—forward, clutching her theatrically bandaged ankle and placing her hand over her heart.
"Kyle," she said, voice breathy, like she’d been dreaming of him this whole time. "Thank you for coming to rescue me earlier. I wouldn’t have made it without you."
She timed it perfectly.
Kyle turned, regarded her evenly, then replied, "It was Ollie who identified the safe breach point. I just did the digging."
Her smile faltered for a split second. Then she pushed on. "Still. I’ll be sure to tell your parents about the life you saved." She blushed. Lowered her eyes. "They’ll be so proud of you."
Kyle’s brow lifted. "Oh? You know my parents?"
And here it was—her moment to shine.
"Of course!" Lyka practically sparkled. "We’ve been family friends for years! I used to see you all the time at events. Remember?"
Kyle didn’t answer immediately.
Now that her face was clean of all the dust, he finally recognized her from the photo in the database. This was the suspicious woman connected to the box, to Ollie’s roommate, and now she was weaving herself straight into his radar. Her presence was like a reminder of those days when attending court was an issue. That smile, that voice, it reminded him of those palace days filled with poisonous wine and backhanded compliments.
Which was why he let her continue. Hoping she’d give something away.
She didn’t. Just more saccharine memories.
Kyle shifted slightly. "I should return to my team."
But Lyka wouldn’t let go of the moment. She lunged—not too fast, not too eager—just enough to seem desperate.
"Wait!" she cried. "I still owe you! Let me repay this somehow. Maybe we could talk later? Catch up properly? I mean—it’s been so long. Our families would be thrilled."
She emphasized her limp, her eyes shining as if she were on the verge of tears.
Surely, surely he’d take the bait.
But Kyle didn’t.
"There’s no need to thank us," he said. "It’s part of the job."
Then, with barely a pause, he turned to the students nearby. "She might need help getting to the infirmary. Someone should escort her."
A clean, professional dismissal.
But in Lyka’s eyes?
He was just shy.
Of course, he couldn’t express himself in public. He was too noble. Too composed. Too overwhelmed by the moment.
And telling people to take her to the infirmary? That was concern. That was care.
She let herself be guided away, but her gaze never left him.
This was fate. Everyone could see how perfect they looked together. And that blond thing in the coat? Probably just a charity case. Kyle had always been generous.
She smiled to herself, eyes dreamy.
She just had to get rid of that minor inconvenience.
Because everything else was already perfect.
And with structural assessments underway and people instructed to remain in place until it was deemed safe to return, Lyka decided the time was now.
A perfect audience. A perfect setting. A perfect opportunity.
She held onto Kyle’s earlier words—how he credited Ollie with identifying the breach. And from that, she had a revelation. If Kyle wanted people to appreciate Ollie’s contribution... then she would lead the charge.
Of course, it would be with flair.
Of course, it would be public.
She returned, freshly cleaned up, posture impeccable despite the subtle limp. Her bandaged ankle, which she refused to fix was prominently displayed. Every step was a performance.
Then she smiled—radiant and confident—as she called out, loud enough for others to hear:
"Excuse me, are you Ollie Mylor?"
Heads turned.
Ollie blinked. His name? Why?
She approached with an eerily familiar box in hand.
"I just wanted to thank you," Lyka beamed, extending the box toward him. "Kyle said you were the reason we were able to escape. So I prepared a little gift."
People stared.
Ollie stared harder at first, thinking it was a coincidence, but...
This was the box. Or a box like it. Or worse—the same kind of box. And the note? It was on the same stationery.
His entire spirit made a tiny scream.
"I-I...I don’t think I can accept this..." Ollie tried, already reaching out to push it back. "It’s too much."
"Oh no," Lyka said, eyes wide and soft. "You’re rejecting it? Was it not good enough?"
Her voice trembled. Her bottom lip wobbled.
Ollie panicked. "No—no! I mean—it’s just—"
Before he could finish, Kyle placed a large hand around Ollie’s waist and tugged him back into the safety of his side.
The effect was immediate.
Ollie turned pink.
Kyle didn’t say a word. Just held him there. Fingers firm, palm wide, anchoring him with casual possessiveness.
Ollie almost stopped breathing.
But Lyka? Lyka took it another way.
He was just protecting Ollie from embarrassment. From the public eye. It made sense. Her Kyle was noble. Dignified. Careful not to shame anyone publicly, especially when he probably knew how weird in the head Ollie was.
It only furthered her belief that he was perfect.
Meanwhile, the miscommunication tripled.
Ollie thought he was being courted. By a girl. This girl.
While Kyle was trying to make sense of her actual goal, especially after her attempts at cornering him.
Meanwhile, Lyka was absolutely certain she was demonstrating Ollie’s mental instability or disagreeableness to everyone.
"I’m sorry," Lyka said gently. "I just wanted to be closer to you."
Ollie choked.
But as if his instincts knew of trouble, his great stomach growled.
Audibly.
Kyle glanced down, used that as an excuse to lean closer. "You hungry?"
"I-I...Yes!" Ollie squeaked. He initially thought it was embarrassing, but wasn’t being stuck here worse?
"Then let’s go. I’ll feed you first."
Kyle didn’t even look at Lyka.
He just guided Ollie away.
Meanwhile, a certain forum was already exploding.
And one tall princess, who had been watching from the side with her arms crossed, squinted at Lyka with narrowed eyes.
"I don’t like the smell of that woman," she muttered to her aide, who could only take note as usual.
After all, she didn’t want a human torn to pieces right before the Orc King arrived.