Chapter 9
Arian was utterly dumbfounded. The Tower Master meant exactly that—the lord of the Magic Tower. And at the same time, the ruler of Ester, the city that had developed around it. So where else would Franz go after finishing his dispatch? Straight from St. Serpian Cathedral—practically his front yard in Ester—to the Magic Tower itself, his actual home base. All while humming a cheerful little tune, basking in the fact that he'd just averted the world's doom. His steps were so light, he seemed ready to float away.
However, Franz had forgotten one crucial detail. The Tower Master had mountains of daily paperwork to handle. The sun was already dipping behind the hills, which meant overtime was all but guaranteed tonight. Of course, no one would complain about it. The mages wouldn't shoulder the blame if the Tower Master slacked off, so it wasn't their problem from the start. And mages generally hated meddling in each other's business anyway. Even if one wanted to butt in, who would dare lecture the Tower Master? They'd just click their tongues behind his back at most.
Except for one person. Out of all those countless mages, just a single one was grinding her teeth at the Tower Master's antics: his secretary, Arian.
She stood in the secretary's office, biting down hard enough to crack molars as she processed documents. It was all because Franz had ditched his duties, leaving her with extra work piled on.
A crumpled ball of paper lay discarded on her desk—one Franz had left on it in the early dawn hours.
[Back from dispatch.]
If using letters like some 21st-century messenger app was peak Franz, then it was peak Franz. The recipients, though? Total confusion.
Arian let out a long sigh, thinking to herself: The second he shows up, he's done for. Of course, blissfully unaware Franz was just strolling along carefree, work completely forgotten—no worries in sight.
He started sensing something off only after reaching the top floor of the Magic Tower. Peering toward the Tower Master's office, he noticed the secretary's room next door lit up bright as day. And from inside came the nonstop rustle of flipping papers.
'Ah...?'
That's when it hit him: he'd dumped his work and left Arian to handle it all night.
Running into her now would mean a torrent of nagging for sure. But to get to the Tower Master's office, he had to pass right by the secretary's room—no way around it. So, teleport it was.
With a flicker, Franz vanished from the hallway and reappeared in the pitch-black Tower Master's office. No light, couldn't see a thing—but no problem.
Just as he snapped his fingers to illuminate the room—
"Tower Master...? So you've finally returned...?"
A chilling whisper slithered into his ear.
"Gah—!"
Darkness always brought terror. Franz jolted in shock and snapped his fingers anyway. Magical lamps flared to life, flooding the room with light.
He whipped around to identify the intruder. What he saw...
Was a demon.
A demon poised to drag the world to ruin. Her eyes blazed like they might shoot lasers any second.
A frigid silence hung between them for a moment.
Unable to bear the awkwardness, Franz cracked an embarrassed grin and spoke first. "I-I'm back."
"Yes, after your one-sided memo on a scrap of paper, I trust your... outing—er, dispatch—went smoothly?"
She'd almost said "fun time," hadn't she...? Even for Arian's usual sharp tongue, that was harsh. She must be seriously pissed. Fair enough—with workloads that demanded nightly overtime, ditching it all was bound to infuriate her.
Franz felt a bit wronged, though. Weigh the Tower Master's duties against the world's survival? The latter wins every time. Problem was, Arian didn't know that.
Shaking off the thought, he shrugged off his robe. "Go home first. I'll handle the rest."
She already worked too hard; no need to drag her into this mess. Arian probably had most things sorted anyway—shouldn't be much left.
But Arian ignored his consideration. Her hand snatched the discarded robe midair, folding it neatly with a few swift flicks.
She set it aside primly. "You're so slow, you'd be at it till morning if left alone. Telling me to go home alone—are you trying to make me feel guilty?"
"Forget it. You've finished your share—why stick around? Go before I change my mind."
"But I'd wrap it up faster if I helped, right?"
"I'm good. Go."
Franz knew exactly why she said that. When the boss burns the midnight oil, the subordinate feels like they're eating judgment with every glance. Even after finishing their own work, they linger, asking, "Anything I can help with?" to get permission to leave.
That's why he had to shut her down. As a black-haired Korean from the 21st century, he'd been saddled with extra work daily. Time to break that toxic habit.
He sat at the desk and dove into the papers. Arian watched him a moment, then turned with a curt—
"Fine."
Her icy tone echoed softly in the room as she headed for the door.
"Good work today."
Franz's voice from behind halted her steps. She let out a barely audible sigh.
Puzzled by her sudden stop at the threshold, Franz shrugged it off. She'll figure it out and go.
Sure enough, Arian soon left. Hearing her footsteps fade, Franz stretched his arms high overhead. Barely started, and his body already felt heavy. Like coming home from a fun picnic—exhilarating going, exhausting returning. Not that it was a vacation.
He got back to it. Scratch-scratch. In the quiet, only the pen's sound rang out.
Land use request near the Tower...? Checking the details: Necromancers' Association wanted to turn Tower-adjacent land into a graveyard. Told them to experiment outdoors, and now they wanna make the Tower one big tombstone. These guys never quit.
Franz scrawled REJECTED in huge letters. Reaching for the next—
Click-clack.
Footsteps. He looked up—Arian stood at the entrance. Not like she'd forgotten something; her demeanor was odd. Just staring at him.
Unable to hold back, Franz asked, "What?"
"You don't seem reliable enough."
"Hey, come on. You worked hard today—go crash and relax."
"If you screw up, I suffer too. How could I sleep?"
Not wrong. Tower Master mistakes? All fallout lands on the secretary.
But Franz never botched paperwork. Complaints were just nonsense from idiots anyway.
Still, he got her worry—must be nerve-wracking. Instead of arguing, he just said, "Do whatever."
With that non-denial, Arian dragged a chair over and sat across from him, helping with the docs. A faint smile tugged at her lips, unnoticed by Franz.
"Ughhh..."
The next morning, Franz woke groaning with exhaustion. No surprise after grinding paperwork deep into the night. Good thing Arian helped, or he'd have been at it till dawn.
He felt bad for dragging her into it. So he decided: time to hire another secretary.
This time, with just the saintess, he'd scraped by. If the other two had acted up too? Duties abandoned for sure. And this would happen more often ahead. Arian couldn't shoulder it all.
Arriving at the Tower, he told her. "Another secretary besides you? Why...?"
Arian's eyes went blank, focus shattered.