Page 283 of Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

The number of raiders storming into the Minister’s office kept increasing as the days went by. Civil servants who would normally display at least a semblance of decorum and politeness now seemed to have regressed into an age of savagery and violence. They could have passed for Vikings fresh off a raid if they’d been wielding swords instead of documents.

It was a bit terrifying. Was this the sad fate of civil servants driven mad by budgets? This wasn’t just a dark evolution—this was a full-blown dark revolution.

“How many more are left?”

The Minister quietly spoke up as soon as the latest ‘raider’ from the Ministry of Territory left. It was a despairing question—how many more of these mad waves did he have to endure?

“We still have the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Special Service Agency, and the Ministry of Education left.”

“Only the big ones, huh.”

The Minister murmured with a hint of dizziness, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was true. Only the most difficult departments remained.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs was responsible for dominating the continent’s diplomacy as the representative of the sole empire while the Ministry of Internal Affairs was responsible for managing the nation’s internal affairs.

Meanwhile, the Special Service Agency was practically a cheat code in its own right, and the Ministry of Education was tasked with cultivating the empire’s future talents. Each one was a money-sucking machine, staffed by specialists well-versed in squeezing out every last coin. For a Minister who’d only held this post for a few years, it must have been overwhelming to deal with them all.

“Damn it, it’s not like they left their money here for safekeeping or something.”

I felt a deep sense of satisfaction welling up inside me while watching the Minister scrub his face in frustration. After all, a boss’s misery was always the joy of his subordinate.

“They didn’t leave it with you, which is exactly why they’re acting like this.”

I couldn’t resist throwing in a light jab even as he grumbled.

If it were their own money, they wouldn’t be making such a fuss. They’d just come, take it quietly, and be done. It was always noisier when you were taking someone else’s money.

“Stop with the pointless comments and just check this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Faced with such a reasonable statement, the Minister couldn’t argue, so he stuffed more work into my hands instead.

While it might have looked like he was trying to oppress me with power, the rising joy inside me only doubled. If he was resorting to this, it meant that he was really backed into a corner.

“Come to think of it, isn’t this the first time the Ministry of Magic has come?”

I casually brought it up as I glanced at the stack of documents he handed me, which were submitted by none other than the Ministry of Magic.

It was surprising. Even during these frantic budget allocation periods, the Ministry of Magic had always acted like it existed in another world. They had never asked for additional funds last year, the year before that, and even before the current Minister took office. They didn’t need to, thanks to the golden tower they were tied to.

Thanks to the unshakable philosophy of the Mage Duchess, ’A person walking the path of magic should never be poor or hungry,’ the Ministry of Magic was always a well-fed department. That was mother Mage Duchess for you.

…And yet, for the first time ever, that very same Ministry of Magic had submitted a request for extra funds this year.

“Did the Magic Tower go bankrupt or something?”

Of course that wasn’t likely, but the situation was so unexpected that it made me wonder. It was like stumbling upon Bill Gates at a soup kitchen.

“The Tower’s annual meeting dragged on, so they haven’t received their funds yet. The people in charge of disbursing the money are stuck in that meeting, so there’s nothing they can do.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, my foot. You were there when they explained all this earlier.”

Sure enough, the people from the Ministry of Magic had explained it all quite thoroughly when they came. The problem was that I hadn’t really been listening.

There were too many other reports to go through, so I didn’t have time to pay close attention. Honestly, I hadn’t even realized someone from the Ministry of Magic had shown up until much later. So, how could I have listened properly?

“That’s also surprising in itself. The Tower’s meetings rarely run long.”

“It’s rare, indeed.”

The Minister nodded slightly, agreeing with me. Since the Mage Duchess was the one who commanded overwhelming authority over the Tower, meetings never dragged on.

Who would dare challenge someone who held all the cards—age, experience, rank, title, and magical ability? It wouldn’t be bravery—it would be reckless stupidity. So, usually, things proceeded either as the Mage Duchess wished or according to tradition, and there was never any reason for meetings to run long.

Moreover, the Mage Duchess didn’t seem particularly busy or troubled when I last saw her.

…It’s probably nothing.

I reached a reasonable conclusion after a brief moment of thought. The Mage Duchess didn’t look stressed or asked for any help, so at least nothing bad had happened.

I decided to think positively. Maybe the mages were just getting overly enthusiastic about creating some new magical device. If something serious had occurred, the Magic Tower would already be exploding with magic by now.

***The Vice Master of the Magic Tower. Aside from the permanent Tower Master, the Mage Duchess, he was the highest-ranking and most respected figure among the empire’s mages, even recognized across the entire continent as an elder of the magical world.

In fact, even the Minister of the Ministry of Magic or the leader of the Imperial Mage Corps held positions that seemed transient in comparison to the Vice Master of the Magic Tower. No matter how you put it, he was a mage among mages and was standing just beneath the Mage Duchess.

What a pretty title that hides the ugly truth.

But from the perspective of the person actually occupying that role, it wasn’t nearly as grand. In reality, he was just the second-in-command, subject to constant change under the permanent Tower Master.

As the second-in-command, he was tasked with handling all the mundane responsibilities. Compared to the untouchable Tower Master, the Vice Tower Master often felt like someone you might actually be able to deal with, and this made his position one of pain and endless trials. It was like being a middle manager with all the disadvantages magnified to the extreme.

Outsiders couldn’t approach the Mage Duchess, who was both a Duke and the continent’s greatest mage, so they constantly pestered the Vice Master of the Magic Tower with requests and deals. Managing his actual duties was already hard enough without all that extra hassle.

Was it any better within the Tower? Not at all. He had to manage and mediate between the White, Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, and Black Towers. In fact, dealing with outsiders was far less exhausting than managing the chaos inside.

These young mages these days…

Mages naturally lived in their own world of thoughts and principles, so it was only normal for them to be fiercely prideful.

The older mages at least had some perspective, having seen the world and come face-to-face with the immovable wall that was the Mage Duchess. But the younger ones? Not even close. And unfortunately, the majority of the Magic Tower was made up of these younger mages.

As someone tasked with controlling and managing these overly self-confident young mages, he had lost count of how many times over the past ten years he’d been tempted to just quit and disappear.

Maybe I should just vanish.

Regrettably, that same temptation was rising again now.

***It was the annual Magic Tower meeting, a gathering where the top mages of the tower discussed everything from the year’s plans to ideas for new magical devices.

“The Green Tower has always handled Academy instructors. Of course, they should take charge again this time!”

“Handled? It’s more like they’ve monopolized it. Don’t you think it’s about time they stepped aside?”

And so, during this meeting, we inevitably had to select the mages who would be dispatched to teach at the Academy.

“Hah! You expect us to hand over the critical role of educating students in magic? This isn’t about fairness; it’s about expertise.”

“That’s precisely why the Green Tower shouldn’t be in charge this time!”

“What did you say? Are you speaking on behalf of the Red Tower with that statement?”

Never, in all my time as the Vice Master of the Magic Tower—or even in the eras of my predecessors—had there been such fierce debate over Academy instructors.

These damn fools.

A sharp pain throbbed in my head. Normally, they treated being an Academy instructor as an annoying, burdensome duty. But now that the situation had shifted, they’d turned into berserkers.

As a fellow mage, I understood the madness. Whoever became an Academy instructor this time would get the chance to teach the Tower Master’s only disciple. Though in reality, they’d be going there not to teach, but to learn a bit of the Tower Master’s magic through that disciple.

But from the perspective of the Vice Master of the Magic Tower, this chaos was intolerable. I needed to end this meeting quickly and return to my real duties. This was a waste of time.

“Enough.”

In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore and stepped into the argument. If I left this chaos unchecked, it seemed like it might escalate into a full-blown duel.

“This year, the Academy instructors will be chosen regardless of tower affiliation. Candidates may apply individually, and the final selection will be made by vote.”

I stared them down, silently conveying that I would ‘convince’ anyone who opposed with a Thunderbolt. Then, the noisy younger mages finally quieted down.

Yes, this was the best solution. Letting the Green Tower continue handling it would cause problems, but giving it to another tower would also stir trouble. Even if we selected a specific tower, they’d just fight among themselves over who would go. Voting would take longer, but at least it would seem fair.

“Candidates are limited to those present at this meeting.”

“Vice Master of the Magic Tower, that limits the opportunities for mages who couldn’t attend the meeting—“

I quietly raised my staff.

“We can’t send people too busy to even attend a meeting, can we?”

Then, I lowered it again.

“Let’s move this along. If you want to be an instructor, raise your hand. The vote will be completely anonymous, so don’t worry.”

With a few sighs, the process of selecting candidates finally began. Attendees glanced at each other before slowly raising their hands. About a third of the room volunteered, which was quite a lot. If only they showed this much enthusiasm in their usual work.

As I scanned the room to check the faces of the candidates—

“I withdraw.”

There was an unexpected turn.

One candidate suddenly withdrew. I thought that maybe they’d just remembered some other work they had to do and shrugged it off.

“…I withdraw as well.”

“Yes, same here.”

“I think this responsibility is too much for me.”

It wasn’t just a few withdrawals—all the candidates dropped out. What in the world? Why were they doing this after all that noise they made earlier?

But something felt strange. The ones who withdrew, and even the attendees who hadn’t applied, were all staring behind me.

“…”

I turned around, following their gaze, only to doubt my eyes.

The sole person left standing, the only one who successfully registered as a candidate, and now the person who would be dispatched to the Academy as the instructor for this year—

“…Since there’s only one candidate, I’ll declare that the Tower Master will be taking on the role of Academy instructor this year.”

A sinking feeling hit me as the Tower Master nodded in satisfaction.

“Haha, the Tower Master’s devotion to her disciple is truly touching.”

“Those students are lucky indeed. If only I could enroll at the Academy myself!”

People slowly began to speak up, trying to break the tension as an awkward silence settled over the room.

Of course. The Tower Master’s only disciple was at the Academy. It made sense that she might want to oversee the teaching personally. It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion.

…

It’s the Prosecutors’ Office’s Executive Manager.

No, I couldn’t lie to myself.

It was definitely because of the Executive Manager.