The next half an hour was ripped straight from my worst nightmares.

An overly enthusiastic assistant, barely containing their glee, showed up with a mountain of paperwork. Apparently, my long-awaited arrival wasn’t to inspire troops or lead daring strategies—it was to fill forms.

Approve requests. Mediate disputes between people I’d never met over things I didn’t care about. Write to my idiot mage Lucas to come here.

By the time there was a knock on the door, I was ready to throw the entire stack of papers out the window and call it a day. “Come in!” I called out, trying not to sound too desperate for a distraction.

When the door opened, I froze.

Standing there was someone who looked almost exactly like Lola—down to her bright eyes, delicate features, and the way her lips tilted up in a subtle, familiar smile. My heart practically leapt out of my chest.

The cavalry is here!

“Lola!” I yelled, shooting out of my chair so fast it wobbled dangerously. I rushed forward and hugged her tightly, my earlier misery forgotten. “So nice to see you!” She awkwardly returned the hug, patting my back like someone comforting a toddler mid-tantrum. When I finally let her go, I stepped back to take a good look at her.

She wasn’t wearing armor—in fact, her clothes were far from practical.

Instead, she was dressed in a well-tailored attire that screamed fashionable but functional. The outfit that could turn heads at a courtly banquet or a high-stakes business meeting. Still slightly higher than me, but my heels compensated for that.

“You look amazing, Lola!” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “Really fancy. Did you raid the royal wardrobe or something?” She blinked at me, her expression bordering on confusion. Before she could respond, I pressed on, “But what’s your class? Warrior? Mage? Or something else?”

Understanding dawned on her face, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “Ah, that’s what you mean,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “I, uh, switched to a managing role. Thought it might be better suited for me. I was hoping to land a nice job. Then I met you…”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, you did!” I said, gesturing dramatically to the mountain of paperwork on my desk. “Just look at all this! It’s a bureaucratic paradise!” My voice dripped with irony, but the glint in her eye told me I’d miscalculated.

Her gaze shifted to the pile of papers, and her face lit up like a kid on their birthday. “I can’t wait!” she said, her grin wide and unmistakably genuine.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. Who gets excited about paperwork? “Well, Lola,” I said, shaking my head with a chuckle. “You’re hired. If anyone can tackle this disaster and stay sane, it’s you. I hire you as my steward.”

[Player L0la is now your steward.]

What the hell?

Her eyes widened, her surprise almost comical. “Just like that?” she asked, blinking at me like I’d just declared the last call was on the house.

“I guess so?” I said, flashing her a mischievous grin. “Now it’s your turn to tell me what’s proper and why. That’s your job now.” I winked as I flopped back into my chair, the wood creaking under the sudden impact. “I hate this…” I added with a dramatic pout, crossing my arms like a petulant child.

“I understand, Lady. Most people are like you,” she said with a smile, already reaching for the stack of papers on my desk. “May I?”

I gestured for her to go ahead, more than happy to relinquish the cursed pile. “Be my guest.”

As she took the stack, she tilted her head thoughtfully. “The system gave me some authority, so I’ll start by familiarizing myself with the tools it provides. And,” she added with a small, confident smile, “I’ve read On Imperial Efficiency, so I already have a few ideas.”

I paused, glancing out the window to where a few guards were practicing drills in the courtyard below. Poor lads. “I’ve read it too,” I said casually.

Her head shot up so fast I thought she might get whiplash. “You did, Lady?” she asked, sounding genuinely shocked. “It’s… over a thousand pages of dry language.”

Shaking my head, I gave her a small grin. “I used to be a tester, Lola. And as a tester, I had to test everything. That includes the imperial court and all its bureaucratic insanity.” A shiver ran down my spine as the memories surfaced. “The hoops you have to jump through there just to get a sword repaired are enough to force me to drink double.”

Lola raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. She was already reading something on her system interface, her fingers swiping at the air as she navigated the menus. “It can’t be that bad,” she said, her tone firm. “It’s called efficiency for a reason.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out before I could stop it. “Oh, really?” I leaned forward, propping my elbows on the desk. “Here’s how it works.”

Raising one finger, I started, “First, your boss has to sign a form. Then, you need a detailed report of where the sword got chipped, followed by an estimate from the ironworks on how much the repair will cost.”

I grinned at her, raising another finger. “Next, you need a confirmation from the junior member of procurement, signed by their superior, and a letter explaining why you need your sword repaired and what you’re using it for.” I paused for breath as I added, “And, of course, it all has to be signed by your superior or the person who ordered you to use the sword in the first place.”

I still love the empire despite that. Reform from inside, right?

Lola’s mouth fell open, her system menu momentarily forgotten. “That’s…” she trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words.

“Ridiculous? Exhausting? Completely insane?” I offered, leaning back again with a smirk. “Yeah, it works when you’re trying to arm an imperial doan. But here’s the thing—the process is the same whether you’re repairing one sword or a hundred thousand.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Lola stared at me, her disbelief written all over her face.

For a moment, she was completely silent. Then, with a soft laugh, she shook her head and went back to skimming through her interface. “Well,” she said after a while, her tone light but determined, “let’s see if we can make your court a little less… efficient.”

“Good luck,” I said with a grin, leaning back in my chair and folding my hands behind my head, relaxing while I could. “You’re going to need it. I’m hopeless.”

“What are you planning to do, Lady?” she asked as she finished fiddling with her system interface and picked up the first sheet from the stack. She didn’t look up, but there was a curiosity in her voice. “I bet you’re craving adventure.”

I leaned back, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I have this shiny new legendary skill, and I really really really want to try it out in a fight. Like, reaaaally.” My voice took on an almost wistful tone, my fingers drumming idly on the desk. “But…” I drew the word out, groaning. “I’m way too tired right now. So that’s tomorrow’s agenda.”

“And today? What’s on the grand agenda?” she asked, finishing first paper already.

“You’ll see,” I replied with a smile, my gaze drifting to the only door that didn’t lead outside.

Her brow furrowed as she followed my line of sight. “Wait… is that a toilet?”

I nodded solemnly. “Technically, the proper term is garderobe.”

Lola made a face, half doubtful and half disgusted. “I still can’t believe they force us to do this. More realism, I guess.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I headed for the door and entered the, uh, facilities, doing my best to avoid thinking about the cesspit below.

Some things were better left unexamined.

***

In the imperial capital, Naré maison

In the dimly lit chamber, Count Itzel knelt before an imposing older man clad in an ornate cloak, the intricate embroidery marking him as a duke of high standing. His head bowed low, and his tone deferential. “Duke, the investigation is complete. We’ve confirmed the origin.”

The duke didn’t respond immediately.

His gaze wandered to the tapestry adorning the wall beside them—a masterwork of magic. Its threads shimmered faintly, a living record of the empire’s noble hierarchy. He reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric, feeling the faint hum of enchantment.

The names were woven into the tapestry with meticulous care, and his hand traced a path from the title Duke downward to a freshly added name: Baronetess Charlie.

“Are you certain it was her?” he asked at last, his voice heavy, laden with both curiosity and a sense of obligation. His hand lingered over the name as though weighing its implications. “I owe him a debt—one I thought long forgotten. He came to collect.”

The count lifted his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It was her. She activated the obelisk. We couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, but it wasn’t within imperial territory. It’s in the gefahr-lander. The proximity to our borders allowed us to detect the energy.”

“Gefahr-lander.” The duke let out a weary sigh, his hand dropping to his side. “A fitting place for such an artifact. Very well. I’ll lend my support to the emperor’s faction and his decision.” His gaze sharpened, and his tone turned resolute. “And I’ll ensure it’s you who is sent.”

Itzel’s grin widened, a flash of something vicious in his expression as he rose to his feet. “Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”

The duke studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint nod, he turned back to the tapestry, his fingers tracing the shimmering threads once more.

***

When I returned, Lola was still shaking her head, clearly baffled by the state of Rimelion sanitation. “Come on,” I said, gesturing for her to follow me. “Time for the main event.”

We made our way to the war room—or the planning room, or whatever fancy name they called it here. Inside, a massive table dominated the center of the room, and on it lay a map so detailed it made my jaw drop.

The craftsmanship was incredible. Rivers meandered through valleys, forests stretched in textured greens, and even the fort we stood in was marked with precision. The map spanned the entire surrounding region, down to individual hills and clearings.

Whoever had made this was clearly an artist. Unlike me, I could barely draw a straight line.

Before I could fully appreciate the map, the door slammed open with enough force to make me flinch. A military man stormed in, exuding authority with every step. His walk was deliberate, his polished armor gleaming under the room’s lanterns, and his face had an expression of tightly controlled anger.

Just as I’d expected.

“Ah, Imperial Doan-Commander Mila,” I said smoothly, pretending I hadn’t just jumped a little. “Thank you for joining us. This is my steward, Lola.”

Lola, ever composed, performed a flawless bow and then stepped back into the shadows like she’d mastered the art of vanishing into the background. Commander Mila was decidedly unimpressed.

Better than yelling, I guess.

He strode forward, each step heavy with intent, until he stood directly in front of me. He was tall—stupidly tall. I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes. His towering presence was almost comical, except for the fact that his expression screamed I’m not here to play games.

“I wanted to discuss… a defense structure with you,” he said, his deep voice devoid of pleasantries.

Not fair. I used to be taller. “Right…” I said. He scoffed but remained silent, his eyes narrowing. Honestly, he was taking this better than I’d imagined. So, naturally, I pushed a little further. “I apologize for my delay. I instructed Lucas—”

“Hah.” His laugh was sharp and bitter, more bark than fun. “That brat.”

He still towered over me, his gaze unflinching. It was the stare meant to intimidate. I met it with a slight smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Yes,” I continued, unfazed. “I instructed that idiot to build the fortress. He must’ve taken it as his personal quest, because here we are.”

“You requested my doan to be here,” he said, his tone flat, almost accusing.

That caught me off guard. “I didn’t,” I replied, frowning slightly. “The chief of Village Number Seventeen sent that request. His orders, not mine.”

His eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing me with the intensity of someone trying to find a lie in a confession. After a long pause, he nodded. “You’re telling the truth.”

I need twenty centimeters heels. I glanced down at mine, but they still weren’t identified. Stupid Lucas. Where is he?

[Glacial Tread Heels]

This pause was meant to intimidate him, but it had no effect. Figures. “Of course I am,” I said, my voice full of annoyance. “I apologize for not being here sooner, but I had other priorities—namely, fetching some random scrolls from The Cloud Library.”

I reached into my inventory and pulled out the two scrolls from the old man, holding them up with a sly smile. The effect was immediate. Mila’s eyes widened, his steely facade cracking as genuine shock flashed across his face. “How?” he asked, his voice low but filled with disbelief.

“That was the reason for my delay,” I said with a nod. “I was hunting down the best spells I could find, and with these two…” I held up the scrolls. “…we can face a lot of hardships.”

Mila nodded, his expression easing just slightly. “Good. I approve.”

Well, that’s a first. An actual compliment?

Just as I was savoring the rare moment of approval, the door creaked ominously.

It barely had time to swing fully open before Lucas barged in like a drunken german, panting and looking far too disheveled for someone who claimed to have things under control. “There you are!” he wheezed, his chest heaving as though he’d sprinted across the entire fort.

I blinked at him. “Lucas, did you run here? Are you being chased? Because that would be the only good reason.”

Mila, however, was far less charitable. He spun around to face Lucas with the precision of a soldier, his expression darkening into something truly thunderous. “Brat!” he barked, his voice echoing in the room like a crack of thunder. “You lied!”

Lucas froze, his eyes darting between us like he was trying to calculate the safest escape route. “I—I wouldn’t say lied exactly,” he stammered, his tone dripping with nervous deflection. “I might’ve… uh… creatively adjusted some details?”

I almost furrowed my brows. “Lucas,” I said, keeping my tone dangerously even. “I need you to do something important. Identify my clothes. And while you’re at it, explain why everyone in this fort is terrified of me.”