The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 861: Vasodilation, But Make It Spiritual

Son of a gun—!

Minister Kordell Nox almost sputtered it all out when he heard what the elders were saying after they’d already taken a big gulp of the apparently ground-breaking medical tea.

Could they not have said something a little earlier?

Even just a small warning. A footnote. A gentle heads-up that something inside his body was about to be fundamentally renovated.

Well, they could have tried to explain. But what would be the use of all that?

Unbeknownst to him, the full explanation wasn’t something most of them could have properly understood at their current stage anyway. Moreover, who knows what kind of garble their words would sound like to so many people with varying levels of cultivation?

Then again, maybe they would finally realize that the lack of clearer instructions was not truly the elders’ fault, considering they were already doing their best to explain while carefully skirting every restriction they could manage.

Because at this very moment, nobody was in any state to contemplate unfathomable theories or ancient cultivation logic.

They had far bigger problems.

Namely, the very noticeable widening of their spiritual pathways.

It was especially obvious the newer someone was to the dungeon space. And unfortunately for the Minister, he fell squarely into that category.

So much for vasodilation for blood vessels.

This was the kind of widening where someone had shown up inside his body with heavy construction equipment and decided that today was the perfect day for emergency road expansion.

Where there was none, suddenly there was one. That kind of thing.

And now, Kordell finally understood why they had been asked to sit so far apart.

He needed to lie down.

No, correction. He needed to lie down yesterday.

His back was still technically working, but his body was sending very firm suggestions that sitting upright was no longer an appropriate activity.

And strangely enough, what his body wanted most was not panic, not screaming, and not even cursing the elders.

It wanted a nap.

A deep one.

Which was absurd, really, considering that it felt like an entire construction crew was still hard at work inside him. But somehow, the sensation was also... relaxing.

Unsettlingly so.

It was like falling asleep to the sound of distant machinery. Loud enough to notice, but soothing in a way that made resistance feel pointless.

Just as his eyes began to droop, they were told to keep sipping.

Every last drop.

Apparently, it was crucial to their development.

Kordell lifted the cup again with the air of a man reconsidering the possibility of just paying fines. He wouldn’t normally do such a thing but his insanely heavy eyelids despite all the caffeine he had consumed that day was goading him into peaceful submission.

But then he heard it.

Bloodline abilities.

And the precious tea nearly shot out of the poor Minister’s nose.

__

Apparently, what happened to the Nox patriarch wasn’t an isolated case.

Moments before such a bomb, one Imperial marshal had similarly been fighting a losing battle against gravity itself.

Marshal Julian, a renowned soldier, had already dropped to one knee to support his head. His palm was also braced against the ground to support himself from tipping over to the sides as he fought against his eyelids that were drooping with alarming determination.

And really, if dignity and sudden stern instructions weren’t involved, he would have already curled up right there in the clearing and declared it a tactical rest.

His eyes were seconds away from closing for good when a single phrase drifted over on the wind.

Bloodline abilities.

Julian reacted like someone half-drugged and halfway through waking up from surgery. His head jerked up a fraction too late, then dipped again before he forced it upright with visible effort.

"Huh?" he managed to blurt out despite practically seeing double the amount of elders now.

Elder Feng turned toward him calmly, hands folded behind his back. His expression was mild, as if the marshal had merely asked about the weather.

"Are you asking about affinity?" the elder replied.

Julian blinked.

Once.

Twice.

The words clearly registered somewhere, but his body lagged behind his thoughts, and his thoughts lagged behind reality.

"Affinity?" he repeated slowly, as if testing the word to see if it would bite him.

Elder Feng tilted his head in faint realization. "Ah. You call it bloodline ability, right?"

"Huh...?"

Julian’s eyes widened, though his brain was still working several steps behind his body. Around them, others were also staring, but the marshal was too busy trying not to fall over to notice.

"S-sorry," he said, pressing two fingers to his temple. "Can you say that again? I think my ears heard it, but my brain is still... buffering."

"We were just discussing how this is the first step toward fixing the lack of affinity," Elder Feng said smoothly.

"???"

The elders exchanged brief glances, as if deciding how much simplification was required.

Finally, one of them nodded. "I suppose the easiest way to explain it," Elder Feng added thoughtfully, "would be to think of it as awakening bloodline abilities."

"!"

Julian’s mouth fell open.

He stared at the elder with the unfocused intensity of someone who had just been informed of a life-altering revelation while heavily sedated.

"...What?" he asked faintly.

"You may think of this as the first step," Elder Feng repeated patiently, "in the process of awakening what you refer to as bloodline abilities."

"!!!"

Say what now?!

Several people tried to speak at once. A few managed to open their mouths. None of them succeeded in producing anything coherent.

Unfortunately, and perhaps mercifully, the moment passed.

Despite the overwhelming need to ask questions. Despite the screaming alarms going off in their minds about what this could possibly mean for the Empire. Despite the fact that several careers and worldviews were actively collapsing in real time.

Their bodies simply refused to cooperate.

One by one, people sagged, arms were limp and backs hit the ground.

And just like that, it was lights out.