Isn't This Too Much?
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sound of someone bounding up the stairs two or three at a time echoed through the corridor. What could be so urgent? In Utopia, where you could slack off as long as you did your job without any real interference, such noise was exceedingly rare.
Bang!
“Huff… I’m here! Whew… Where’s that document? The document!”
Utopia’s warden, Jepeto—with cheeks puffed out like steamed buns—kicked open the office door and bellowed. But all that answered was a silence as pristine as the first snowfall.
“What the hell? Why’s no one here? Secretary! I’m back!”
He’d rushed here panting for this very document, so he hurried to the desk. That’s when a note he hadn’t seen before caught his eye.
Warden, you’ve been dispatched to Palatium for duty, and with the Mobile Patrol Captain acting in your stead, I figured I’d take this chance to use up my backlog of vacation days~ Oh! The document you’re looking for is in the second drawer. —Your ever-reliable secretary
“Tch… damn it. Back in my day, it was common sense to stand at attention waiting for your superior to return from dispatch…”
His eyes had glazed over by the word “vacation,” but his hands swiftly yanked open the second drawer anyway.
“Kiyaa-hoo!”
The moment his fingers felt the expected texture, Jepeto roughly snatched up the document.
Day Pass Application
Applicant: Ilka Pavola
The above applicant requests a Day Pass for the following reason: OO
Like a child’s eyes eagerly awaiting their birthday, or a young man’s hands clutching a letter from his longed-for lover. Jepeto savored every word of the Day Pass application, reading it slowly once, then skimming it again.
Shhrrk!
Before the aftertaste could even fade, he signed it with a flourish so vigorous it nearly tore the paper. Fresh ink glistened on the crisp signature.
Now Ilka Pavola had the right to leave his beloved prison for a day of indulgence.
‘Hm?’
Was this the thrill of finding one last cigarette in an empty pack you’d mistaken for a flagpole? Jepeto’s lips and cheeks threatened to pierce the heavens as he checked the second document.
“What’s this? What the hell… argh! Tch!”
His face twisted as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have, and he flung the second document onto the desk. Meanwhile, he carefully placed the Day Pass application aside and irritably lit his pipe.
Knock knock.
“Chief Clerk here.”
“Mobile Patrol Captain.”
“What’s with the knocking? Come in.”
Unlike Jepeto, who’d bolted out upon hearing about the Day Pass, Helena and Boris had returned at a leisurely pace.
“Did you review the documents up to the second one?”
“I did! But why didn’t you reject the second one yourself?”
“A dispatch request in the name of Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek—hard for me, the acting authority, to turn down, sir.”
It wasn’t a grumble expecting any special reply from his subordinates. Helena picked up the document as the warden puffed on his pipe with a sour expression.
‘Day Pass application? It’s been a while. Next one’s…’
Subject: Request for Dispatch Cooperation of Vice Warden Suhwa Romanov
1. We wish for the continued prosperity of your institution.
2. For the smooth conduct of the Elector Princes’ Irregular Conference (hereinafter Round Table Meeting), we request the dispatch of a specialist public servant from your institution as follows. Your cooperation is appreciated.
a. Dispatch Details
Dispatch Location (Department): Manrmursk (Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek Direct Staff)
Original Affiliation: Utopia
Position (Number): Vice Warden (1 person)
Dispatch Period: [Month] [Day] ~ Until conclusion of Round Table Meeting
Remarks: New request
Attachment: Job Dispatch Consultation Request (1 copy)
End.
Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek
“Warden?”
“What?”
“This second document… the dispatch request. Are you planning to reject it?”
Pfwooo!
A robust sound erupted from the pipe—hardly what you’d expect from mere tobacco. The ash, blooming like fireworks, settled gracefully into the ashtray at Jepeto’s gesture.
“Reject? I’m thinking of burning it and claiming I never got it.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t stand to lose anything from this, sir.”
“What, siding with that wastrel just ‘cause you got some meat at the party he threw? Is that it?”
Helena layered a blank stare—screaming ‘you didn’t read to the end’—over her impassive base expression.
“If I may, did you read this dispatch to the very end?”
“Why would I bother with a document stamped by that talentless hack born with a silver spoon? Of course not.”
An attitude so brazen it was unbelievable for a warden—or perhaps that very brazenness had made him warden in the first place? Even Boris, his former adjutant from military days, shot him a reproachful look alongside Helena, prompting excuses.
“Ahem… well, seeing that fool’s signature plastered there just killed any motivation to read.”
“I’ll fold it so you can’t see that part. Please, just take a look.”
Helena handed over the document, creased just enough to hide the offending seal. Jepeto took it with obvious reluctance.
“Let’s see… hah! All take and no give, demanding a dispatch like some… wha…?”
Clink!
Jepeto dropped his pipe mid-read.
“……?”
His face twisted in indecision—spit out the smoke first or stop grinning? He did neither, opting for a grotesque half-smirk while exhaling through his nose, then scrawled his signature with gusto.
“Kuhahaha! Those fat-asses are finally scheming together! Hell yeah, send him! It’s not like I’m going—send as many as they want!”
Jepeto beamed like a kid with double birthday presents. Boris eyed his direct superior with faint concern, while Helena maintained her stoic mask.
Coo!
A pigeon on the windowsill cocked its head, watching the typical Utopia warden’s office antics unfold.
* * *
“No, listen—this is what I mean… yeah! You. Last time I said I’d visit Palatium, what’d you do? Made excuses about overdrinking, said I’d feel like crap in the morning, dodged me right?”
Flutter!
A flag bearing a reindeer with three crowns—the symbol of Manrmursk—snapped in the wind.
“Do you know that Academy top graduates receive a baronetcy upon graduation, Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek of Manrmursk?”
“Uh, y-yeah?”
“I didn’t know either. What’s so special about being top graduate that they hand out titles first? But hey, if they’re offering, no reason to refuse, right?”
“Y-yeah, sure.”
“A baronetcy certificate proving my status arrived in Utopia’s mailbox. Should’ve been handed over personally by His Majesty at graduation, but he skipped… and for something mailed, the packaging was insultingly cheap.”
Sensing the tense atmosphere inside, the coachman cautiously closed the window connecting to the passengers.
“Th-those guys are something else.”
“And? Regardless, is it right for me—a baronet and Utopia vice warden—to get arrested in broad daylight in the heart of your vast Manrmursk by guards?!”
“It wasn’t an arrest, more like a polite…”
“Dragging me, the vice warden, while ignoring the baker beside me? That’s not ‘polite’ by any stretch!”
Neigh!
The horses whinnied, sensing danger with animal instinct.
“Fine, fine! I admit it! Sorry! But I couldn’t wait around for you to keep dodging with excuses. Gotta attend the Round Table, right?”
“Manrmursk isn’t even my land—why should I care?”
“Fair point. But for your ‘road-shaking’ plan, you kinda do.”
The Elector Princes’ conference, aka the Round Table Meeting. Back when the former kingdom had just become an empire, the empire’s top noble houses gathered to elect Rudolf von Romanov I as founding emperor.
Manrmursk, Sukan, Moribwe, Fraia, Sachsen, and one house whose name was lost. They’d met at a round table to crown the first emperor, hence the name.
“Sigh… so, what’s the agenda for this Round Table? What’d the Electors decide?”
“What else? Gripe session over the garbage the emperor dumped on them, obviously.”
Sukan got war mages’ magitech, Fraia got military beasts like horses and griffins, Moribwe got mercenaries’ weapons. And 3,000 disarmed mercenaries and war mages went to Manrmursk.
Postwar disarmament was the excuse, but the emperor had forced burdens on the Electors, culminating in this Round Table.
“My lord. Please refrain from discussing conference matters until we arrive at the table.”
Gustav, sitting silently like an ancient tree root beside Byeon Gyeongbaek, finally spoke.
“Who else is here but us? Why so stiff, Knight Commander?”
“‘Daytalk is heard by griffins, nighttalk by rats.’ We can’t rule out listening magitech hidden in this carriage.”
“Didn’t you inspect it yourself before departure?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then we’re good. I trust you, Knight Commander.”
His lord’s words of trust rang true. For a man of Byeon Gyeongbaek’s usual demeanor, it was casual—but to the aging knight commander, it resonated deeply.
To his liege, who offered light yet weighty faith, the knight commander held his tongue.
“Touching. By the way, did your direct superior approve this dispatch?”
“The warden? Yeah. Surprisingly neat signature on the reply.”
In Suhwa’s mind, the sound of his trust and loyalty to Jepeto crumbling echoed.
‘Isn’t this too much?’
Had he returned to Utopia as planned, he’d be counting 60,000 platinum coins and plotting mercenary ops right now. Suhwa swallowed an inexplicable bitterness and spoke.
“A Round Table of Electors… does that mean the Sachsen Duke is attending too?”
“Nah, that bastard’s too busy puppeteering the figurehead emperor—skipped it.”
“Music to my ears.”
“Speaking of Sachsen, you are bringing those 3,000 mercenaries, right?”
“On my way to collect payment now. Ah~ if only someone hadn’t arrested me in broad daylight, I’d have hauled off sacks of platinum. Who could it be? No idea~.”
“You petty shit. I said sorry!”
Neigh!
Knock knock.
“Pardon the interruption, my lord. We’re nearly at our destination.”
“Oh, yeah? Great, great.”
The coachman’s impeccable timing mediated perfectly—for Suhwa, who couldn’t keep ribbing his border lord and future partner, and for Byeon Gyeongbaek, who’d apologized once and wouldn’t bend his pride further.
Oblivious to it all, the flag atop the carriage fluttered vigorously. Full spring was on the way.