Chapter 4: Guys Who Are This Good At It
Chapter 4: These Bastards Are So Good at Their Jobs
Finally, the door closed.
As I inhaled the faint lingering scent of lavender soap Ophélie had left behind, I stared blankly into the air for a while.
Ten seconds.
Thirty seconds.
A full minute.
Nothing appeared.
No message about the World Destruction Rate decreasing.
No notification about a major character deviating from the original plot.
I thought something would change after negotiating with Ophélie, but—nothing.
I picked up the stuffed puppy doll on the desk.
"Hey."
No response.
"I just brought one of the main characters back to their senses. Shouldn't that at least trigger something?"
The one-eared doll just stared back at me with its dumb expression.
I had no way of knowing whether the World Destruction Rate had dropped or stayed the same.
Fine, the fish in the pond can wait.
I expected at least a message about the saintess's branching path shifting, but—nothing.
Was negotiation alone not enough?
Did actual results have to manifest before the world would react?
The only achievement I had was confirming a hypothesis. How exhausting.
This country really is a mess.
Thanks to that, I barely slept all night.
As if the restless dreams weren't enough, the Crown Prince's Palace was in chaos from the moment I woke up.
A man's voice, roaring loud enough to tear the doors off their hinges.
The frantic voices of attendants and knights trying to hold him back.
That nuisance of a voice—sounded familiar.
Though the situation was irritating, I couldn't help but let out a laugh.
Ophélie, you're good.
"Your Highness."
The attendant who entered the office was pale-faced.
"His Grace, the Grand Duke of the North, has arrived."
"The Crown Prince's office isn't some neighborhood dog park. Barging in unannounced and causing a scene—"
I kept my eyes on the document I was reviewing as I addressed the head attendant beside me.
"Head Attendant. Do I really have to entertain this?"
"An inexcusable breach of protocol. I will ensure such an incident never occurs again."
The sharp-witted head attendant read my mood perfectly and responded without missing a beat.
"Send him away."
"But—"
The helpless attendant in the middle could only bow his head helplessly.
"The Tower Master and the Sword Saint have also arrived together."
I set down my pen.
Not a single one of them showed up to the strategy meetings I called, but the moment the saintess says one word, all three come running at once?
This country really is a mess.
"Let them in."
The moment the doors opened, three large men shoved their way inside.
Dietrich's face was as cold and composed as ever, but he kept tugging at his cravat—probably restless about something. Ulrich was openly scowling, making no effort to hide his displeasure. The Sword Saint had one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
Meaning he hadn't disarmed upon entering the Crown Prince's Palace.
Not a single sane person among them.
"Your Highness."
Dietrich gave a perfunctory bow.
"I would like an explanation regarding what transpired with Saintess Ophélie."
Straight to the point, skipping formalities.
"We heard the saintess left the Crown Prince's Palace in tears," Ulrich cut in immediately.
"It is said Your Highness summoned her for a private audience. What exactly was discussed?"
The Sword Saint took a step forward.
"If there was a personal dispute between the two of you, I will mediate."
All three of them delivered their lines flawlessly—their timing was almost poetic. I nearly laughed out loud.
So the rumors had already spread.
For Ophélie's work, this was unusually rough.
Someone must have stirred the pot deliberately. I'd have to look into that.
Storing away another headache in my mind, I met each of their gazes one by one.
"The esteemed gentlemen who couldn't be bothered to attend strategy meetings have graced us with their presence."
All three faces stiffened simultaneously.
"With the Demon King's Army advancing, it seems the saintess's tears are more precious to you all than the fate of the Empire."
"This is not the time for that discussion," Dietrich said lowly.
"No. It is exactly the time for that discussion."
I signaled the head attendant with a glance.
The head attendant swiftly closed the door.
No—locked it.
"Now that all three of you are here, let's address the backlog of meetings."
From this moment on, you're all staying with me in the Room of Time and Spirit until the work is done.
Day one starts today.
I distributed three stacks of documents from the table—one to each of them.
Before Dietrich: the Northern Reinforcement Proposal.
Before Ulrich: the Capital's Magic Barrier Repair Plan.
Before the Sword Saint: the Central Knights' Redeployment Plan.
"Review and approve them."
Ulrich let out a hollow laugh.
"Your Highness. Are you joking?"
"Do I look like the kind of man who would joke about the backlog of work you caused?"
"An explanation regarding the saintess comes first."
"Approvals come first."
I leaned back in my chair.
"You had time to rush here over a mere rumor, but not to review a single document concerning the Empire's survival?"
"That is an entirely separate matter."
"Exactly. A separate matter. And I'm prioritizing the more urgent one."
I locked eyes with Dietrich.
"The proposal to send three thousand reinforcements to the North. It's been stalled for three days without the Grand Duke's approval.
"If the Northern Front can hold without reinforcements, then was I overreacting?"
Next, Ulrich's turn.
"Three cracks have been found in the capital's outer barrier. Repair crews are on standby because the Tower Master hasn't inspected the site.
"If the Tower Master alone can protect the entire capital, then am I needlessly interfering?"
Finally, the Sword Saint.
"I was told the Knights cannot deploy without a commander."
The Sword Saint's hand left his sword hilt.
"A commander doesn't need to be the best swordsman. Since you have the critical duty of carrying the saintess's water bottle, perhaps we should appoint a different commander."
No one answered.
"Good. All three of you."
I pulled out a fresh pen and tossed it to Dietrich.
"No one leaves until the work is done."
Look at their faces.
At this point, if one of them killed me, it wouldn't even be surprising.
Honestly, I was a little scared.
Sure, I'm one of the male leads, so my abilities are top-tier, but three against one? Not great odds. Especially since this is my body now. Ahem.
Look at the Sword Saint—a Sword Master who walked in armed. The Tower Master could probably kill me with a flick of his finger. And the Grand Duke? He's fought enough battles to be sick of them.
After glaring at me for what felt like an eternity, the three of them finally picked up their pens.
They must have killed me in their heads a dozen times over.
Maybe they're humoring me because this is technically my territory.
They flipped through the documents, pretending to read.
Whew.
This country really is a mess.
The moment the three reluctantly opened their files, an attendant announced another visitor.
"Your Highness, Saintess Ophélie requests an audience."
Hm.
She came to keep her word from yesterday.
The mention of Ophélie brought color back to their faces.
No way I'm letting them see her that easily.
"Tell her to wait. We're in the middle of critical state affairs."
Dietrich immediately closed his file and flipped to the approval section to sign. Ulrich did the same. The Sword Saint—well, he was still fumbling, unsure where to sign. Ulrich had to point it out for him before he managed.
Are you kidding me?
"Alright. Summarize the contents of the documents you just signed and explain your reasoning for approval."
Their faces froze.
The documents had already been reviewed by the staff. I'd gone over them multiple times with my advisors.
But that didn't mean the approvers could just scribble their names without reading.
Approval isn't a signature contest.
It's a declaration that you understand the decision you're making and will take responsibility for it.
"The saintess is waiting," Ulrich said, glancing toward the door.
"Then hurry up."
Dietrich reopened his file.
He skimmed the first few pages quickly. I thought he was just going through the motions, but when he reached the troop deployment chart, his hand stopped.
"Three thousand reinforcements are being sent in two waves."
"Reason?"
"The Western Road leading to the North is entering the thawing season. Moving three thousand troops and supply wagons all at once would overwhelm the road."
The Grand Duke's finger tapped a point on the map.
"But this route needs to be adjusted. The second wave should advance along the river instead of the Western Road. It'll delay them by three days, but supply losses will decrease."
He crossed out his earlier signature, noted the revisions, and signed again.
Next, Ulrich.
"The proposal is to repair the three cracks in the capital's barrier."
"Reason for approval?"
"I'm not approving it."
Ulrich drew a line through the center of the document.
"There are three cracks, but the cause is singular. The 7th Magic Core's output is unstable, causing a chain reaction in the surrounding barriers. Patching the cracks alone will only lead to another breach within a month."
"Then what do you propose?"
"Replace the 7th Magic Core first. In the meantime, reroute power from the eastern sector to the west. The outer barrier will weaken for two days, but the total repair time will be halved."
See?
Isn't it better when you actually read it?
Finally—what was our esteemed Knight Commander up to?
The Sword Saint was—well, very much himself. Still stuck on the first page.
"The wording is too dense."
"That's how administrative documents are. Just summarize the content."
The Sword Saint set the document aside and unfolded the attached deployment map.
The sharpness in his eyes as he scanned the map was almost unbelievable for the same man who couldn't find the signature line moments ago.
"The proposal is to deploy the Central Knights' 2nd Battalion to the North and station the 5th Battalion at the capital's East Gate."
"But you see a problem?"
"The 5th Battalion alone cannot simultaneously guard the East Gate and the Southern Armory."
The Sword Saint traced a line on the map with his finger.
"Move the 3rd Battalion's cavalry company to the East Gate and leave the 5th Battalion at the armory. For the North, sending just two infantry companies and the archers from the 2nd Battalion will suffice."
"Reason?"
"The North isn't flat terrain. Sending too many cavalry is pointless—they'll be useless in forests and ravines."
A casual remark, but one only a veteran of countless battles could have pointed out.
I nodded in agreement.
The Sword Saint wrote his revisions in the section Ulrich had pointed out earlier and signed.
I looked at each of them in turn.
Just from flipping through a few pages, they had each made the most precise judgments in their respective fields.
These bastards are so good at their jobs.
And yet, until now, they've been wasting their talents carrying Ophélie's bags and water bottles?
This country—sigh—really is a mess.
"Proceed without further delays."
Before I could even finish, all three turned toward the door.
"May we receive the saintess now?"
I smiled at them.
They were the same men who had been ready to scribble their signatures without reading, yet they had each identified problems, made revisions, and taken responsibility for their decisions.
For now, it was enough.
At that moment, a blue light flashed at the edge of my vision.
[Active Narrative: Men Who Abandoned Everything for Love has developed a crack.]
[Current World Destruction Rate: 90%]
[Partial memories of character 'Crown Prince Ludwig' have been restored.]
The number that hadn't budged during my negotiation with Ophélie had finally dropped.
Words alone weren't enough.
People had to take action for the world to change.
Only 1%, but my hypothesis was correct.
No matter how much I searched my mind, nothing felt different yet.
Still, I'll take the memory restoration as a bonus. I'll check it later.
Now, time for the carrot.
I exhaled deeply and nodded to the attendant.
"Bring her in."
This country really is a mess.