Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

Chapter 281: A Fiery Start to the Year (2)

What was a mere Executive Manager supposed to do when he was sandwiched between the Minister of Finance, who was second in rank among the Ministers, and the Commander of the Imperial Army’s Central Forces, one of the top ten military leaders in the empire?

The answer was simple: serve tea and play secretary. And if there was no tea? Well, then I’d better start doing cartwheels to keep them entertained.

I’m usually treated with respect wherever I go…

It was frustrating. What good was the title of an Executive Manager when I was constantly pushed around by Ministers? It didn’t matter how many people were under me if I was surrounded by higher-ups.

“Is the tea to your taste?”

“Hmm, it’s not bad. It used to taste like plain water, but you’ve improved a lot.”

I asked out of politeness, but what I got back was an overly sincere assessment. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. It was supposed to be a compliment, but it somehow didn’t feel great.

Back when I was grinding through the North, there was a time when my only goal was to earn the approval of the Minister and this person. But unlike the Minister, no matter what I achieved—even when I killed Sarei Dobra Tala, one of the eight war machines in a life-or-death duel—this woman never gave me a single compliment. The best I got was a half-hearted ‘good job.’

I couldn’t believe I was getting praise for serving tea well…

What a life.

Tala, you bastard, are you watching from hell? I swore I’d kill you, break every bone in your body, and you even lost an eye—yet here I was, sitting in a corner serving tea. Honestly, it might’ve been better if I’d just stuck to that.

If Tala could see this scene from hell, he’d probably pound the ground and wail, crying over the pathetic worth of his life.

“My race may have ended, but I’m satisfied! After all, a new hero has brought me down! So, Carl Krasius, tell me—did I look like the wolf of the plains to you?”

Suddenly, I remembered his last words. If ever you’re reborn, come back as a teabag and not a wolf, Tala.

“Why’d you come in person? Doesn’t the military get more than enough funding already? How much more do you plan to squeeze out of us?”

“Hey now, don’t be like that. Can’t I just drop by to see a friend’s face?”

“What nonsense.”

I quietly took my seat while the Minister and the Commander exchanged banter.

Something felt off. The military had been allocated the largest possible budget after the Great War in the North. If they were short on funds, all they had to do was send a staff officer from headquarters to complain. Why would a high-ranking commander come here personally? And someone on good terms with the Minister, no less?

Were they trying to build a flying fortress or something?

I shook off that ridiculous thought. The last time someone tried that, the thing barely got off the ground before crashing back down—what a waste of resources.

“We’re here to buy horses.”

Finally, after their lengthy back-and-forth, the commander got to the point.

“Do you even know where to get them?”

“That’s why I’m asking for more money.”

At that, the Minister clicked his tongue, clearly resigned to the situation. If horses were the issue, then even the Minister couldn’t refuse.

Horses, after all, were essential for developing cavalry. Conscription could always fix the shortage of soldiers, but there was no solution for horses. Besides, horses weren’t like chickens or pigs that could be easily raised.

Moreover, thanks to Kagan’s devastating attacks during the Great War in the North, the Empire’s cavalry forces took a severe hit. Even the Empire’s allied northern tribes were nearly wiped out, cutting off a key supply route for horses.

It would take years to restore that supply line, but we couldn’t afford to put cavalry development on hold for that long.

If money can fix this, it’s worth it.

Of course, horses were treated as strategic resources across the entire continent, with strict export controls. Selling horses to another country? That could easily get people branded a traitor.

However, there were always places where money won over loyalty and patriotism. If the Commander was bold enough to come in person, then it meant that the preparations were already done. Thinking about the military’s desperate efforts to secure a temporary supply of horses almost brought tears to my eyes.

“We can finally breathe if this deal goes through smoothly. It won’t be a full recovery, but we can get back to about 70%.”

The Commander’s words armed with an undeniable logic made the Minister sigh. If they could resolve 70% of the cavalry problem that had plagued the military for two, no, three years, then it was worth squeezing out even nonexistent funds.

“Think about it. Up north, Dorgon’s still stirring up trouble, right? Imagine what’ll happen if he recruits a few more tribes. You’ll be kicking yourself, wishing you’d emptied your piggy bank—“

“Enough, I get it.”

The Commander had clearly hit the Minister’s trigger, and he finally nodded in resignation.

No one wanted another uprising in the North. Especially not when it was a real, looming threat. As long as that traitor Dorgon still had a presence in the North, trouble was inevitable.

“Fine. Do it.”

The Minister’s voice sounded weary, and the Commander, ready for this moment, handed over a document. The Minister gave it a quick glance before stamping it.

Impressive. Other departments had to pile up paperwork in towers just to get a stamp.

“The Empire’ loyal soldiers will rejoice at the Minister’s wise decision.”

The Commander seemed clearly satisfied with the smooth transaction and clapped dramatically. Since she had only one arm, she slapped her knee to make up for the sound.

The Minister, on the other hand, looked drained, his face pale after losing a large chunk of the budget in one stroke. But what could he do? The consequences would be catastrophic if he didn’t provide the funds and a real incident broke out in the North. The military, after all, existed to be funded for such contingencies.

“See you next time.”

“Don’t come back.”

“Oh, you’ll miss me.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

And with that, the Commander left just as swiftly as she’d arrived, disappearing like the wind.

She handled the Minister so effortlessly… I hope I could be like that one day.

***The Minister, who had just been completely squeezed dry by the military—more specifically, by the Commander—sat in silence while rubbing his temples.

Was he really that bitter about losing the money? It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to have to hand it over eventually. He might as well get it over with—

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think would happen if the Minister of Finance went to war?”

It wasn’t until I heard that absurd question that I realized what the Minister was really worried about. It wasn’t just the drained budget keeping him quiet—it was the looming threat of Dorgon.

Of course, the Minister already knew that Dorgon was out there somewhere in the North. However, hearing a key military figure directly say, ‘We’ve got to prepare for Dorgon’s next move’ surely hit differently. The vague threat he’d been pushing to the back of his mind was suddenly feeling all too real. Given the Minister’s previous run-ins with Kagan, it must have felt like the past was coming back to haunt him.

“Do you think that’s possible?”

Still, my answer wasn’t going to change. The Minister of the Finance Ministry going to war? Yeah, right. Did this guy still think he was part of the Prosecutors’ Office?

“Even if that traitor comes back to life, it won’t happen.”

“Damn it, you’re right.”

The Minister clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh.

Yeah, there was no way the Minister would be on the front lines even if Kagan himself crawled up from hell. The Empire, which was obsessed with its reputation, would never send its Minister of Finance into battle instead of the regular army or special forces. That would be like announcing to the world that the Empire was completely desperate.

“Besides, we’ve got His Grace the Invincible Duke and the Special Service Agency, don’t we? In the worst-case scenario, there’s always me.”

I cautiously opened my mouth to address the Minister’s strange concern. Sure, the Empire might be weaker than it was before the war, but the North wasn’t any better off.

Kagan was gone, and except for Dorgon, all of the eight war machines were dead. Meanwhile, the Empire still had the Invincible Duke and the Masked Unit that succeeded the 4th Division. Even I was still active in the Prosecutors’ Office—

“That’s exactly why I’m more worried.”

“What? Seriously?”

Here I was, trying to comfort him, and that was what he’d say?

***Thanks to every department focusing on the Ministry of Finance, I finally had some breathing room. But thinking of this as one of the few breaks I’d get in the year wasn’t exactly comforting.

Maybe I should extend the deadline.

For a brief moment, I considered using my authority as Crown Prince to extend the budget allocation period. The longer it took to allocate the funds, the more time I’d have to relax.

But doing something like that would only cause more chaos, so I kept the idea to myself. I should just be content with the present. There was nothing dumber than reaching for more and losing what was already in my hands.

Though it feels like I’ve already lost something.

Eventually, I forced myself to face the reality I’d been trying to avoid.

While every department had been gunning for the Finance Ministry, there was one petition that had come straight to me. The moment I saw it, I had a gut feeling that my brief rest was about to disappear. If I thought that losing what I had was foolish, then I guess I was already a fool—though, in my case, I wasn’t even at fault. Some external factor had turned me into one.

Rubbing my stiff neck, I took a closer look at the petition. It wasn’t from just anyone; it was from the Tower Master of the Mage Tower.

That’s right, it was a petition sent directly by the Mage Duchess herself.

What’s this about?

The Mage Duchess had never submitted a petition in all her time as the Master of the Tower. She usually handled matters herself, given her immense power. The fact that she’d gone straight to the imperial family for this was terrifying. What could possibly warrant such a request?

Greetings to the noble descendant of the great Emperor Amanca from Beatrix Catoban, ruler of the Duchy of Servette...

I skimmed through the formalities and quickly moved on. The greetings were just protocol—what really mattered was the content.

—Immediately reassigning personnel back to their original duties after completing dispatched missions may be beneficial in the short term, but it could lead to a decline in morale over time. Therefore, I would like to hear Your Highness’s opinion on granting leave proportional to the duration of their assignment.

The moment I read the actual request, my mind froze.

This was far less significant than I had imagined. Was this really from the Mage Duchess? Did I misread it?

No, it was definitely from her. But why?

To be fair, there wasn’t anything strange about the content itself. The mages of the Mage Tower were regularly dispatched throughout the Empire, so as the one managing them, the Mage Duchess might have noticed a problem I wasn’t aware of. Suggesting leave as a solution made sense.

But why was she bringing it to me?

The issue wasn’t the request itself but the fact that it needed to be submitted as a petition at all. The Mage Duchess had full authority to grant her mages leave without any need for imperial approval.

And once the imperial family accepted a petition, it turned into a policy that applied to the entire empire and not just one department or organization—

The entire Empire?

My brain, which had been stuck, suddenly started working again. If the point of the petition was to establish a policy that applied to the entire Empire, then this odd request started to make sense.

Who would the Mage Duchess be most eager to grant leave to? Who would she be most desperate to give a break to? It was all too obvious. Anyone with eyes and ears would know.

Ha.

I let out a dry laugh. Was the Executive Manager already complaining to his future wife?

No, that couldn’t be it. There was no way he would drop his pride to that extent.

…Or would he?

The fact that I couldn’t be sure irritated me. The Executive Manager, with the reputation he’d built, was both infuriating and terrifying.