The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 890: A Negative Result

First up was House Kyros’ resident physician, Doctor Philip.

With his long list of accolades and work experience that stretched far beyond the number of years most of them had even been alive, Theo felt that this was definitely a bigger gun.

The young, equally determined cadet had managed to rope the doctor in after returning to Princess Kira and consulting with Kyle, who then forwarded the issue to both Luca and Xavier.

The two had already been awake for some time. Unfortunately, because they woke up late, they had been forced to play catch-up and prepare for their afternoon classes instead of immediately rushing to the booth.

Even so, Luca had been worried the moment he heard Theo’s report.

It sounded dire.

And as someone who had once been a young boy subjected to repeated testing with no clear answers, Luca knew exactly what it felt like to keep being examined, only for everyone involved to walk away unable to determine what was wrong.

It was disheartening.

And more than that, it was alarming.

But before Luca could even ask Xavier whether there were safe ways they could help, especially given what they had recently discovered, the little chipmunk found himself stunned when his husband spoke up first.

"If you want to help him, then you should do it."

Luca looked up so fast he nearly startled himself.

"!"

"Would that be alright?" Luca asked hesitantly, voice a little too earnest.

"I really want to help him... but I don’t want to put everyone else in jeopardy because I was hasty."

No one had ever really stopped Luca when he set his mind on something.

At most, even during his more questionable creative endeavors, D-29 and Sid would only offer extremely compelling suggestions that gently nudged the budding yet wildly eccentric artist toward alternative choices. Even in such desperate moments, he still had the ability to decide.

It was like that for other things. He had always been given free rein. Support had never been in short supply. Even when his plans involved methods that sounded, at best, deeply dubious, he would still be encouraged to explore them.

The little explorer definitely appreciated it.

But as they went more public and drew more people into their endeavors, he had learned there were so many things to consider when making decisions.

The larger the scope, the more things to look into.

No wonder Lord Killian always warned about people who were simply too vocal about wanting to lead.

Because actual leaders who were worth their salt were more than aware that leadership tended to be a thankless job.

It was easy to want authority for the power the title carried. But the title itself demanded its weight in blood.

To lead properly, only someone slightly unhinged would even want the job. After all, who would willingly desire to carry the mental load of an Empire?

Luca glanced at his husband.

Xavier was doing exactly that.

He had always been in awe of how Xavier bore it all, and even more amazed by the support he never failed to offer despite everything already weighing on his shoulders.

But the devoted husband, who also happened to be the Imperial Crown Prince, actually reveled in it.

It wasn’t that he disliked leadership. Nor was he lacking in the required skills to succeed.

The work was tedious, as expected. But somewhere along the way, he began to find greater meaning in everything he did because it could support his wife.

It was the trade-off he was willing to take. Therefore, considering it was such a thankless job, what would be the point of his position if he could serve everyone but his most important person?

Especially when that person was practically a saint whose desires were painfully simple: survive, be happy, and help where he could.

He even hoarded money for it! Amassed it carefully and painfully, counted it nightly, only to spend it when someone needed help.

That was the kind of person Xavier had married.

So yes, even if D-29 had identified the patient elf as the controversial Elven Prince, Xavier did not have it in him to stop his little wife from helping.

If it turned out to be a mistake, then he would deal with the consequences himself.

And so Doctor Philip had been called in to examine the patient.

In the meantime, Xavier received the lips of his wife, who had risen on his tiptoes without hesitation.

The Crown Prince was rewarded with an extra nip, a playful nibble, and an adventurous tongue that very clearly asked for more.

Naturally, Xavier halted all preparations on the spot.

After all, some things were simply more important.

Even the dead could wait a little before receiving a revive pill.

__

But one who apparently couldn’t wait was Prince Elior, who had the old doctor running back and forth without pause.

To be fair, this was a unique experience for both the Elven Prince and Rahil. Normally, the people tasked with looking into Elior’s condition didn’t move like this. They didn’t bustle about with purpose or shift from test to test as though they knew exactly what they were doing.

In typical cases, they also wouldn’t be coming back and forth with even more equipment, so that the makeshift area now resembled a proper hospital diagnostic room.

The usual pattern involved reading results that didn’t match visual assessments. Then they’d usually get a great deal of theoretical speculation, followed by carefully worded apologies and eventual referrals, all in the hope that someone else, somewhere, might arrive at an actual diagnosis.

This time, however, was different.

Instead of growing frustrated, the older gentleman appeared almost delighted each time a specific test returned clean. He examined the results with keen interest, occasionally humming to himself as if each negative finding only strengthened his curiosity rather than diminishing it.

But how could the invigorated doctor whose views in life had since been overwritten not act as such, when he had been made aware that dead ends were simply leads waiting for more capable minds?

That even the smallest breakthrough could be used by others to open even bigger possibilities.

Being humbled by their Young Lord taught him this lesson, and now he approached difficult cases with a different mindset.

So, quite suddenly, he spoke.

All of the younger ones stilled at once.

"Theo," Doctor Philip said, voice calm but firm. "Remember this carefully. A negative result is a result."

Theo straightened instinctively.

"When I was much, much younger," the doctor continued, "and when information was still scarce, I made the mistake of assuming that because some races shared extremely close biological markers with humans, it would be best to examine them through a human lens."

He shook his head slightly, more at himself than anyone else.

"But as you know, large similarities don’t mean fewer differences," he said, gesturing lightly toward Elior. "Just like this."

The room was silent.

"We don’t yet know the exact issue," Doctor Philip went on, "and I am well aware that my current capacity limits what I can confirm. However, I believe we now have a direction."

"!!!"

Prince Elior and Rahil exchanged a look.

It sounded almost too good to be true. Yet when they looked back at the older doctor, they were startled to find no hesitation there at all. His eyes were clear. Focused. Knowledgeable.

There was something solid behind his words.

And whatever that finding was, it was enough to send Theo sprinting off in search of even bigger guns.