IICSYIRD l CH 46

Chapter 03

Schloitz didn’t stay lost in thought for long.
It wasn’t like Blandea Lefevre was giving him time to daydream, and there was a mountain of work waiting.

Originally, he hadn’t planned to crush Madros’s entire faction all at once.
But now that the execution of the 2nd Commander, Marc Hunt, was finalized, he decided to cut off all the remaining pieces while he was at it.
It would create a temporary gap in manpower, but it was a price he’d chosen to pay.

****

“Lord Procyon. An invitation arrived from Her Majesty the Queen.”

Blandea hadn’t forgotten what Rafael told her the day before.

If any message came from the royal family, she was to announce it out loud to Schloitz.
Rafael had stressed that over and over again.

“Just leave it there.”

But Schloitz’s reply was flat and uninteresting.
It sounded like he had no intention of even opening it.

The fancy royal invitation would probably just end up quietly burned by Rafael later, without anyone noticing.

‘Rafael told me not to repeat it again.’

Blandea, feeling Rafael’s hard work fade into the void, placed the Queen’s invitation exactly where Rafael had instructed—tucked away in a corner, hard to see.

****

It happened just as Schloitz finished signing five documents.

Of course, not every document could be approved.
Plenty had to be rejected, and those needed a clear reason written on them, so the sender could either fix or abandon it.

He dipped his quill in ink and wrote out the reason.
There were quite a few issues this time, so he had to dip the pen twice more to finish the note.

As he set the quill back in its holder, he suddenly felt his hand being grabbed.

“…?”

His expression tightened for a moment—then his eyebrow lifted slightly.

The direct daughter of House Lefevre, who had been practically silent all morning, was now gently wiping his hand with a handkerchief.

Black ink had stained her clean white cloth.

“Lady Lefevre,” Schloitz said, looking down at his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“…”

Blandea froze.

The moment Schloitz asked what she was doing, she realized something.

She had misunderstood what Rafael meant.

“Did he mean to wipe the desk if ink splashed on it… not the person’s hand?”

Unfortunately, the ink had landed on Schloitz’s hand—not the desk—so she misinterpreted it.

She was only thinking the ink might smear onto documents later.

Honestly, she’d been so nervous all morning that she probably wasn’t thinking straight.

Quietly, she lowered Schloitz’s hand.

Her face was composed, but her hands were faintly trembling.

“I’m sorry, Lord Procyon. I seem to have misunderstood something Rafael said during our handover. I’ll correct myself.”

Schloitz let out a short laugh, as if she had caught him off guard.

“You gave me quite a scare.”

“My apologies.”

He looked at his half-wiped hand, then picked up the handkerchief from the desk and finished cleaning it himself.

“…Lord Procyon?”

A small, awkward voice came from her.

“…Shall I help you?”

“No need.”

His face briefly showed emotion, but it faded quickly as he turned his attention back to the documents.

The quiet sounds returned—papers being sorted, tea being poured again once it cooled, signed and rejected papers stacked neatly.

All that could be heard was the shuffling of papers, fingertips brushing paper, and the scratch of the quill on parchment.

Sometimes, they exchanged short comments about the Oparts.
Only when Schloitz asked did Blandea answer—and even those conversations were brief and quiet.
The office remained calm and silent.

Schloitz finally stretched his sore neck after finishing almost all the paperwork for the day.

Blandea was still carrying out her duties without making a single unnecessary noise.

Despite the earlier mix-up, she did her job very well.
In fact, she was the only person who could answer Oparts-related questions on the spot, which helped everything move faster than expected.

He sipped the now-cold tea, which had lost most of its aroma, and leaned his chin on one hand.

There were only a few documents left.

Usually, the ones at the bottom weren’t very important.
Mostly personal matters, rather than official ones.

These were about the Procyon estate.

Not the Procyon Special Autonomous Zone run by the military, but Schloitz Procyon’s private land.

Thanks to his foolish predecessor, the estate’s private forces had been disbanded—all of them, except for a handful who handled basic security.

That kind of land couldn’t grow.
The number of people leaving increased rapidly, and untended fields rotted quickly.

After Schloitz became the youngest ever Supreme Commander, some restrictions were lifted—but the estate had been neglected for years.
Restoring its former glory would still take a long time.

Plus, as the lord, Schleuz hadn’t been able to visit due to his duties.

The letters from the estate were full of tears.
Everyone begged him to visit—even just once—if he had a little time.

All of them had been replaced a few years ago by the royal guards after a full purge.

They were all from very low-ranking families.

On the bright side, they had no personal ambitions. On the downside, they were too afraid of Schloitz to make any bold moves.

But that was fine.
In truth, Schloitz didn’t have the energy to care about his private estate.

Given the massive power held by the Supreme Commander of the Kingdom of Razak, it was understandable.

He had to deal with enormous responsibility to maintain this power and lead the military.

It was tough when he was younger, but now? Not anymore.

Still, the reason he worked so relentlessly was because he needed about a month of free time.

From the moment he became Supreme Commander—no, even before that, when he first joined the military—he’d needed time.

After flipping through the last few pages, Schloitz asked,

“Are there any more documents?”

“No, Lord Procyon. The one you just signed is the last one I received.”

“Alright.”

He slowly signed the final paper and set down the quill.
This time, no ink splattered.

Stretching his fingers forward, he laced his hands and straightened his arms—finally relaxing the hand that had been gripping a pen all day.

After checking the large wall clock, he pulled out his Oparts from inside his coat.

“Activate blessing. I need to head out.”

Unlike the ones issued to his other officers, Schloitz’s Oparts were still unstable.

Because of its unpredictable nature, Blandea had once advised him to always activate a blessing before going on expeditions.

Blandea blinked and asked,

“Are you going to the ruins?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t listed on the schedule Rafael gave me.”

Schloitz clicked his tongue.

“Looks like the princess of House Lefevre doesn’t know how hard it is to keep track of everything.”

“…”

“We’re short on people. Regular raids will be hard to organize, so I’ll have to thin them out little by little.”

Since he was cutting out the core members, most of the work had to fall to Schloitz alone.
Even so, he had no plans to let any of Madros’s forces remain.

Blandea seemed like she was debating whether to ask something.

“…Shall I go with you?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to live a long life?”

“You wouldn’t throw me at monsters, would you?”

Schloitz let out a small chuckle.

“Right. I am the Supreme Commander. I can’t do something like that.”

Blandea gave a soft smile.
She didn’t realize it, but it was the first time she had smiled since entering this office.

Schloitz found his eyes drawn to the gentle curve of her lips.

Seeing Blandea Lefevre smile… stirred something in his memory.

“House of Siedo?”

“…”

“Enri.”

“Mm.”