Chapter 577: Stinking Men

“Ha... I’m dead tired.”

After a full day of drowning in paperwork, Phyllis Rossetti lazily stretched out, got up, and looked out through the window.

She was beautiful, with a lush, voluptuous figure that was both mature and striking. A deep crimson uniform only made the blood-rushing curve of her waist more obvious as she moved—every gesture carrying the ripe, composed allure of a noblewoman. Whatever youthful innocence she might have had in her earlier years had, by now, fully fermented into something sweeter—like fruit perfectly ripe.

Unfortunately, no one was there to appreciate it. No matter how beautiful a flower was, it could only admire itself in solitude.

After indulging in a moment of self-pity at her reflection in the glass, her gaze fell into the night outside—night so thick it looked almost solid—and she continued grumbling:

“Work overtime, work overtime. Every day I’m stuck here this late. I can’t even sleep my beauty sleep. If I’d known being the commander of the Royal Mage Corps was this exhausting, I wouldn’t have taken the job.”

“At times like this, you shouldn’t say something so childish, Commander.”

The door opened without a sound, and a figure stepped in, moving with familiarity straight to Phyllis’s desk.

“The entire Royal Mage Corps is being held up by you, you know. You can’t lose heart.”

“A corps this big... supported by one woman?”

Phyllis rolled her eyes.

“Becky, you can con little girls with that kind of talk, sure. I’m not falling for it. I knew that old bastard of a predecessor just fine—he was basically a hands-off boss. Half the time he didn’t even show up at headquarters, and nothing happened to him. Everything still ran.”

“It’s a different time. You can’t compare it like that.”

Becky casually dropped a thick stack of documents onto Phyllis’s desk. As her eyelid twitched violently, he gave a helpless smile.

“Back when the old commander was in charge, the Empire was at peace. The Royal Mage Corps guarded the palace—of course there wasn’t much that needed doing. But now...”

“Now trouble can break out any second, right?”

Phyllis clutched her head in misery.

She’d known it. That old bastard had been way too eager to hand the position to her—there was no way it was out of kindness. He ran off, and right after that His Majesty the Emperor fell gravely ill, and the whole of Berland got dragged into the struggle sparked by that throne.

Naturally, the Royal Mage Corps couldn’t avoid it.

These past few days, just rejecting the private emissaries and “persuaders” sent by every faction and major noble house had already left her frazzled. And on top of that, as events escalated, even the Royal Mages themselves were starting to show cracks.

A few days ago, she’d personally dealt with a batch of traitors. But you didn’t need a brain to know it—there was no way the poison still lurking inside the Royal Mage Corps was limited to just those people.

Learning magic consumed enormous resources. Ordinary people could rarely afford it. That was why magic was often called “the nobles’ game.” The backgrounds of the elite admitted into the Royal Mage Corps were strictly vetted, but it was still hard to guarantee that, deeper down, they didn’t have... other “backgrounds.”

Just like those traitors before: on the surface, they were clean. But the connections buried deepest could be traced back a full ten years.

“This is hard...”

When she thought about all the difficulties she was facing now, even the mountains of complicated documents she handled from morning to night didn’t seem like much anymore. Phyllis gave up completely, bonking her forehead against the window. With the faint eyeshadow on her lids nearly smudged into ruin, she stared with dead-fish eyes at the palace under the night sky.

The night was heavy, but the palace was brightly lit.

On the broad roads, you could still see maids and guards moving about as usual, yet a tense, eerie atmosphere was clearly radiating from that magnificent complex.

“The second one is dead. Looks like the eldest is basically a lock, but... our Majesty doesn’t seem to think so. What a pain.”

Phyllis sighed.

“If only I could turn back time. I’d go back and slap myself from a month ago and tell her not to be so stupid. To use her head.”

“Alright. Regret won’t help, Commander.”

Becky took an elegant teacup from the nearby cabinet. After a few deft, practiced movements, he quickly placed a steaming cup in front of Phyllis.

“I got this medicinal tea from old Derwin. Want to try it?”

“Medicinal tea?”

“Apparently it’s blended from a bunch of precious herbs. It restores depleted mental energy. With old Derwin’s medical skill, it shouldn’t be anything ordinary. I wheedled him for ages before he finally gave me just this little bit.”

“Thanks. That’s thoughtful.”

Phyllis accepted the cup and gave it a gentle swirl. Watching a few floating tea stems sway in the brown liquid, she couldn’t help smiling faintly—then she drained the cup in one go.

“Hah... that feels better. Good thing you’re here with me. Otherwise, sooner or later I’d work myself to death.”

“As your deputy, it’s what I should do.”

Seeing Phyllis drink the medicinal tea that helped restore her stamina, Becky swiftly cleaned the cup with magic and put it away. Then he began helping sort the thick stack of documents on the desk.

“Leave the rest to me. You should rest for a bit.”

“Okay. I’ll close my eyes and recover for a moment. Thanks—sorry to put you through it.”

Phyllis didn’t pretend otherwise. Her realm might have been high, but she was still a pure ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) mage—physical stamina wasn’t her strong suit. After working all day, she really was exhausted, and mentally even more so.

She propped her cheek in her hand and closed her eyes.

Soon, the only sound left in the room was paper turning.

Becky processed documents quickly, but as he flipped through them, his movements suddenly stopped—

because he heard a faint snore.

He looked up, only to realize Phyllis had slumped forward onto the desk at some point, her lovely face buried in the crook of her arm. She’d said she was just resting her eyes, but now she was sleeping so soundly.

She really was worn out.

Becky smiled helplessly and shook his head, pausing his work and letting the room fall completely quiet.

“Rest well. Tomorrow will be good weather.”

He murmured the farewell softly, then picked up some of the files he hadn’t finished and walked toward the door.

Even though this was the headquarters of the Royal Mage Corps, because the previous corps commander had been so unreliable, the room’s decorations weren’t extravagant, and the room wasn’t large. In just a few steps, Becky reached the doorway—just as he’d done countless times before—reached out, and grasped the doorknob.

But the door didn’t open.

Because in the instant he applied pressure, the doorknob in his hand turned into fine sand, pouring endlessly through his fingers.

The sand scattered on the wind. Becky’s eyes remained calm.

“Becky... how long have we known each other?”

“Almost thirty years, I guess.”

Becky didn’t turn his head as he answered.

“From the day you became a member of the Royal Mage Corps, I stayed by your side—as your partner, or your deputy.”

“More than thirty years... that’s a long time.”

Even without seeing her, Becky could already picture the way she’d be leaning back in her chair, full of wistful emotion.

“It is. I still remember you from thirty years ago—crying every day like a weak little girl because you couldn’t beat a man to something. Now you’ve turned into a shrew who points at people’s noses and curses the moment you meet them.”

“Is that so? I’d forgotten. Thirty years really does change a lot... even you, who used to be so clean, somehow...”

Phyllis sighed.

“What did they offer you? Or are you like those people before—someone who, a long time ago, already had the same kind of ‘can’t see the light’ connections with those ‘can’t see the light’ types?”

“...No.”

After a moment of silence, Becky shook his head.

“Benefits? Not really. Connections... I don’t have any connections with anyone that can’t see the light.”

“Then you—”

“I just think this is the right thing to do.”

Becky finally turned around, his expression calm but firm.

“For the Royal Mage Corps, this is the best choice.”

“The best choice... is betraying me?”

“If it can put an end to everything—if it can stop pointless conflict and bloodshed from continuing...”

Becky’s gaze was as clean as it had been thirty years ago.

“...then even that kind of betrayal is necessary.”

“I see...”

Phyllis lowered her head, chuckled softly, and shook it—as if mocking herself. Everything in the room began to tremble faintly. Along with a rising roar, vast magic surged upward like a tidal wave.

“So... you stinking men, who always act so righteous and keep insisting on some inexplicable ‘great principles’ with your mouths...”

Her voice turned cold.

“...you really are all the same. Not a single one of you is any good.”