Chapter 530: His List - The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - NovelsTime

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

Chapter 530: His List

Author: Kairie
updatedAt: 2025-08-20

CHAPTER 530: HIS LIST

By the third quake, it was almost impossible to proceed without informing everyone else not to panic.

It wasn’t really a natural disaster. It was the collective grief of the Kyros family shaking the space like a mini-apocalypse.

One that Xavier didn’t stay to witness. Not because he didn’t want to get hurt again, but because the family deserved privacy so they could properly process Luca’s past.

Also, he felt like the Duke and Duchess wouldn’t be able to focus if he continued to stay in the room.

Being vulnerable was never easy. He figured if their roles were reversed, and someone was sitting in on his deepest breakdown, he would have thrown them out, too.

So he excused himself and promised to stay outside in case they needed anything.

For now, his job was damage control.

So the waiting prince had to inform Kyle that there was no real need to panic. And at best, to make sure the animals and the beasts were kept secure until everything settled down.

Kyle, however, didn’t forget to ask if his boss needed an emergency evacuation, considering his situation.

"No. I’m still fine."

"Oh, well, good to know, captain."

"But what about insurance? Care to have particular body parts insured?" It sounded like teasing; however, the adjutant was absolutely serious about this. Though a big part of it was talking over their terminals, which meant Xavier couldn’t just reach for his neck that easily.

Thankfully, one mop decided to save his boyfriend from a mountain of work by asking about something that Xavier cared about: "How’s my brother? Is he alright? He hadn’t responded to messages, and as you can see, everything is shaking around here!"

"Yes. He’s with the Duke and Duchess now. Hopefully they come out soon..."

And they did.

It was just that "soon" turned out to mean about twelve hours later, and largely because the three of them had finally cried, talked, and even napped their emotions out.

D-29 had actually logged today’s events, one of the rare moments that the host had complained to anyone else.

In fact, it was the day since they were first integrated that the host had complained to this extent.

Because today, Luca learned what it meant to unload.

Honestly, Duchess Amelia almost missed it.

She thought she had prepared herself. After all, she’d already known pieces of her son’s story. She thought she was ready.

But she wasn’t.

She wasn’t ready to hear her little boy talk about deaths. Deaths people had blamed on him. Deaths, he still thought he could cause again.

He was scared of hurting people.

He was scared of repeating the past.

And even as he talked, it hit her how all his fears were about others. About hurting others. About disappointing others.

Not once had he spoken about himself.

Not once had he even thought to be angry on his own behalf.

Duchess Amelia sat there, stunned.

Because if it had been her—if she had lived through that—she would have been furious. She would have screamed and wept and demanded justice.

But her son hadn’t.

And while those golden eyes shed tears for the past, it seems like he hadn’t shed enough tears for himself.

And it was then that she realized just how much their little boy had been carrying all this time.

And how little he thought he deserved to set any of it down.

He must have been lonely.

He must have been scared.

He must have been hurt.

Just how much pain had he endured back then? And yet... he hadn’t even complained to them tonight. He’d just narrated everything so plainly, as though none of it was as horrific as it truly was.

And if that was the case... then had their son never been comforted? Never been consoled?

That thought alone made Duchess Amelia’s chest tighten.

She reached out and brushed Luca’s cheek, voice soft. "Luca, my son... how did you feel about it?"

Luca froze.

He hadn’t expected that.

There was another person asking him how he felt. Not telling him how he should feel. Not telling him what emotions he was allowed to have. Just... asking.

In his first life, everyone told him what to feel.

"You must feel guilty, no?"

"It’s good that you’re hurt."

"You should feel bad. You know you won’t be saved."

He had always been told what to feel.

Maybe that was why he struggled so much with emotions now.

But how did he really feel back then?

When his mother gently repeated her question, he finally mumbled, "Scared."

Because who wouldn’t be?

His voice cracked, his glassy eyes staring at nothing.

"Confused," he added after a beat. "I didn’t understand what was happening."

His parents exchanged a pained glance but said nothing, letting him speak.

"Then... hurt. Because everyone kept moving away, they said mean things I didn’t understand, but... even then, I could feel it."

And maybe it would have been fine if they had just moved away, but they decided it was easier to send him far away.

He sniffled softly, his hands trembling.

"I could feel the shame. They said I should feel ashamed for surviving. For being... an abomination."

For continuing to live when the more deserving people died. Apparently, that was unfair.

And it would forever remain unfair. "So on the rare occasions he felt longing, he extinguished it because he’d been told he didn’t deserve it," he whispered. "I’d watch other kids get treated better. Even animals were treated better. And I started wishing I could have what they had."

His next words cut like knives.

"But eventually...I realized it was hopeless."

His voice dropped lower, and with it were the hearts of the Duke and Duchess, who could only wish to alter the past.

"Because no matter what I did, it was always the same. Or worse. And after years of that, I felt so tired."

"So tired that I had accepted that... I should just quietly... stop existing."

"And that maybe... maybe if all of it ended, I wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore."

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he choked out the last words.

"I just wanted... to live... like everyone else."

And then it was like a dam broke. Luca began to cry. To sob. His voice broke into rambling, breathless complaints as the grief of years poured out of him.

"Up until I could access the space, I was always hungry... I’d wake up with nothing to eat and nothing to hope for... My hands were always bleeding because other kids always hit me, and no one ever treated the cuts..."

He laughed bitterly through the tears. "But even then, I realized I didn’t even own my own body... not really..."

Duke Leander and Duchess Amelia clutched him tight, hugging him between them, their hands stroking his hair, rubbing his back as they whispered comforting words.

And at some point, the complaints shifted into... names.

Specific people.

"Marcus, an orphanage staff... he used to lock me in the storeroom for days and tell me it was penance."

"Mrs. Aldrin, the school headmistress... she’d hit me in front of everyone and say my screams pleased the gods."

"Cyril and Fenn... the boys who used to push me down the stairs and steal my food."

"The ’Guide Supervisors’... who called me defective and forced me to drain my energy until I fainted, saying I was dangerous if left full."

"The Espers who would tell their guides I attempted to make a move on them..."

"And the researchers... and the officials..." His shoulders trembled. "They’d poke me with needles and expect me to produce pills nonstop... They said I was lucky to be useful for something."

Every name he uttered went straight into a mental list in Leander and Amelia’s heads. The Duke even muttered something about needing to procure bigger, sharper swords.

Finally, after what felt like hours, his sobs quieted.

Amelia wiped his tears and smiled faintly. "Luca... in this life... do you have any complaints?"

Leander stiffened, clearly nervous but waiting for the answer. They wanted him to feel safe telling them anything.

Luca thought hard.

When he first arrived here, he’d had so many misgivings. Everything hurt. He didn’t even know who he was.

But now...

He smiled.

Brightly.

And said softly, "It feels... too short."

His parents blinked.

He continued, still smiling through his tears.

"I’m so happy now... that everything feels so short. I just hope... it’ll always feel like this."

Leander’s eyes glistened. Amelia kissed his hair.

Meanwhile, outside the room, Xavier leaned casually against the wall, true to his word.

From where he stood, he could hear bits of it.

The gasps. The murmurs. The outrage, and then the quiet giggles when Luca began naming names, and his parents kept on responding with even weirder nicknames that made him laugh.

And while he couldn’t hear everything. He figured his little wife was pouring his heart out.

Confiding in them.

Sounding for the first time like the child he had never been allowed to be.

Xavier closed his eyes and smiled faintly.

Yes.

It sounded... nice.

Novel