UHWKT 13

Chapter 13

“Wait—what do you mean by that?”

I pressed Caius urgently.

Standing with one leg crossed, he looked down at me with an infuriatingly arrogant expression.

“Did you really think an exclusive mage who even signed a contract could keep loafing around like you have until now?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

I think the problem is that the desk and chair are coming into this room…

I pleaded with him with my eyes.

“Isn’t this Your Grace’s office?”

“That’s right. And from now on, it will also be your workplace.”

“Why?”

“To keep you close and observe you.”

What am I, a lab mold or something?

Keep me close and observe me?

I stared at him in shock, mouth agape. But there wasn’t even a trace of a smile on Caius’s face. I could feel that he was being one hundred percent serious.

“Don’t worry. As you can see, my office is quite spacious. One more person won’t interfere with my work.”

Why does he look like he’s enjoying this? It’s making me mad.

“What about my opinion?”

“There isn’t one.”

“This is unreasonable.”

“Why? It’ll be good for you, too.”

“In what way, exactly?”

“Because you get to look at my face.”

“…I’ll pass.”

What am I supposed to do with this narcissist?

I was just about to argue that I had human rights and a right to privacy when servants poured into the room.

Ignoring my dumbfounded expression, they followed Caius’s orders, set up a desk and chair in an empty corner of the office, and quietly disappeared.

“Well, now you have a proper workplace.”

In what universe…?

I was left completely speechless. They say you lose words when something is too absurd, and that was exactly me.

“From now on, come to work every day at a fixed time. Around ten in the morning should suffice.”

Caius said this as he stood up and returned to his desk. I couldn’t believe what was happening, so I just blankly followed his movements with my eyes.

Then he suddenly turned around and smiled.

“You’d better be punctual. Unless you want to be dismissed on your very first day.”

His finger pointed to Clause 7 of the contract.

I wanted to cry.

Was it my sophomore year of college?

My liberal arts professor had said this:

Never stamp a contract carelessly. That’s how so many people in their twenties and thirties end up getting scammed.

I should have taken that to heart.

“…What is all this?”

The next day, tears in my eyes, I came to Caius’s office for work and was met with an unbelievable sight.

The desk that had been completely empty just yesterday was now piled high with documents, stacked like a mountain.

That wasn’t all. During the thirty minutes I sat there, servants kept bringing in more and more paperwork. Eventually, they even rolled in a trolley and started unloading boxes of documents beside my desk.

I wanted to faint.

“Accept it. This is your work to handle.”

“All of this…?”

“Did you think the Grand Duchy was some kind of joke?”

No matter how I looked at it, this was workplace harassment. Abuse of power, plain and simple.

I shouldn’t have been so quick to sign just because he said he wouldn’t kill me. If I’d known he meant killing me through overwork instead of physically, I would’ve been more careful.

“My fate is just awful…”

Caius didn’t seem interested in dealing with me any further, so I stopped protesting and started flipping through the documents.

And after a few minutes, I realized that this flood of paperwork wasn’t just meant to torment me. These were genuinely necessary matters for the Grand Duchy.

Most of them detailed damages within the territory related to dark mages, along with issues ranging from residents’ welfare to various problems that required magical solutions.

As I read, a fundamental question came to mind.

“Then what exactly have you been doing, Your Grace, to let the territory fall into this state? Haven’t you hired any mages all this time?”

At this point, wouldn’t it make sense to hire at least one mage?

Even if he hated dark mages, he could’ve easily brought in white mages.

I may be the author, but the Duchy of Lucifenia wasn’t the central setting of the story. I didn’t know these details. I’d never even thought about them.

Caius lifted his head and looked at me.

For a moment, our gazes tangled in midair in silence.

“All dark mages were once white mages, they say.”

That was his entire answer.

But I didn’t need to hear more.

That one sentence explained everything.

Caius had lost his family overnight without even knowing why. On top of that, he hadn’t been able to find a single trace of the culprit. It had happened when he was only fifteen.

To him, dark mages were more than mere enemies—they were objects of ideological hatred.

To Caius, every mage was a potential risk, someone who could become a dark mage. I could understand why he didn’t want to take that risk.

As I thought about it, my conscience started to prick at me, so I pressed my lips together and focused on the documents.

“Looks like you’re finally in the mood to work.”

“I feel like I should be.”

If the story wasn’t drastically different from the original, a year from now the Duchy of Lucifenia would be half-ruined by the appearance of the mastermind.

That bastard would smash everything to pieces in search of the final divine relic.

Strictly speaking, that would be my fault too.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I’d done something truly awful to Caius, and my mood grew somber.

It couldn’t be helped.

If this was how things were going to be, then I just had to prevent what I could, within my power.

I was going to claim the divine relics anyway, so there was no reason to sit back and watch the territory be reduced to ashes.

I’d really made up my mind.

I’d decided.

“Your Grace, you’re going to be grateful to me.”

Caius didn’t even look my way, just let out a short laugh.

Ignoring me.

Whatever. I know he’ll be bowing deeply in thanks later.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get an author buff?

Suddenly motivated, I flipped through the documents aggressively.

In my mind, a list of tasks to prevent the foretold devastation unfurled one after another.

Among them, there were a few top priorities.

“Ah, here it is.”

I picked up a document from the pile and walked over to Caius’s desk.

He tilted his head slightly and looked up at me.

He had the expression of someone who wouldn’t tolerate trivial business.

“Was this section of the wall intentionally left unbuilt?”

His indifferent gaze shifted to the map I was pointing at.

“Everywhere else is surrounded by solid walls, but there’s no wall in the direction that leads into this mountain range.”

“Beyond that lies the snow mountain range—the second highest on the continent. Behind it is a swamp that serves as a golem habitat. The natural environment itself acts as a wall. There’s no need to waste resources building one.”

Caius had a point.

With towering snowy peaks and a golem habitat, artificial intrusion was practically impossible. At least, if you only considered artificial intrusion.

But in a few months, there would be a landslide in this mountain range.

For the dramatic progression of Leoni and Fabian’s romance, I’d written an episode where the two, visiting near Lucifenia, became stranded in the snowy mountains.

That was great for the protagonists—but I hadn’t considered the people living in the Duchy at all.

“Still, wouldn’t it be safer to build a wall here, just in case?”

“Is that really necessary?”

“If you look here, the boundary of this mountain range is quite steep. If a landslide were to occur here and there’s no wall, the residents on the outskirts of the territory would be directly affected.”

“Unfortunately, there haven’t been any landslides in the past several years. The ground around here is solid. Something like that happens maybe once every hundred years.”

Right.

But it does happen.

“…How many years ago was the last landslide?”

“Well.”

Caius narrowed his eyes mid-sentence, then paused and pulled a book from the shelf, flipping through it.

“…Ninety-two years ago.”

“See?”

I shrugged.

“If it happens once every hundred years, that means it could happen within the next ten years, doesn’t it?”

Caius said nothing.

He just stared at me silently, as if deep in thought.

“Come with me.”

“Pardon?”

I just made my point—where are we going now?

Caius closed the document he’d been reading, stood up, and looked down at me.

“Didn’t you say we should build a wall? Let’s go see it for ourselves.”

“Um… couldn’t we just send the knights?”

I literally just explained it.

Physical labor is something you delegate to others, right?

Caius broke into a bright smile.

“Nope.”

Bastard.