The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success Chapter 17

After reading the letter, Kiaros’s lips curled into a crooked smirk.

“Hah. ‘Scroll Magic Division’? That secretary doesn’t even know the department’s correct name.”

“Well, it’s unrealistic to expect the secretary to care when the Tower Master himself shows no interest.”

“And what’s with this ‘indefinite absence’? How can the head of an organization be so irresponsible?”

“You understand, don’t you?”

The aide responded gently.

“He’s likely still struggling with his daughter’s situation. The Tower Master may be eccentric, but he wasn’t like this before.”

The aide gave Kiaros a brief sidelong glance before continuing.

“With so many other matters requiring your attention, perhaps the Scroll Management Department can be pushed down the priority list for now?”

“Hm.”

“I understand your suspicions about the department, but still, Her Majesty the Empress—”

The moment the Empress was mentioned, Kiaros cut him off with a sharp tone.

“We’ll speak of Her Majesty later. There isn’t enough evidence yet.”

“Still, many are suspicious. That’s simply the truth.”

“I’m aware. Make sure those rumors don’t spread recklessly. Handle it carefully.”

With that, Kiaros closed the subject and slowly walked over to his desk.

Piled high were documents relating to the Scroll Management Department from the past ten years—summoned under his personal authority.

With the Emperor currently convalescing in the west in secret, Kiaros’s responsibilities were overwhelming.

“For now, send a letter to the Mage Tower confirming the number of scrolls used was indeed 172.”

He spoke calmly, though the letter from the Tower still grated on his nerves.

They were so confident the official imperial report was a typo—he found the arrogance insulting.

Even so, there was no other authority to consult on magical matters.

“Add that Roapia created 166 scrolls in one night, too.”

He hadn’t confirmed that detail before, but now that he had, it was essential to include.

After issuing the orders, Kiaros slowly rested his hand on the department’s documents.

But right from the first page, his thoughts began to drift.

‘She was crying so pitifully.’

That kind woman, the one who had even shown kindness toward the intern who quit after just a day…

“But still.”

Kiaros hesitated for a moment, then addressed his aide.

“There is something suspicious.”

“…Pardon? Her Majesty the Empress?”

“No. Namia Roapia.”

The aide looked mildly confused.

Then, tilting his head, he replied:

“No? She’s an exemplary civil servant, a true talent of the era, and has already helped Your Highness twice.”

Kiaros crossed his arms, his brow furrowed.

“She seems clever. That makes it strange she’d stay in that department.”

“Maybe she’s just bad at tests. There are a surprising number of people like that. It’s… oddly humanizing, I suppose.”

“And her eyes—she keeps shifting expressions so sharply. Is that even normal? It’s suspicious.”

“My own eyes change at quitting time. Doesn’t everyone’s? That’s just a sign of a seasoned worker who knows how to conserve their soul.”

“Even her family background isn’t normal. Very suspicious.”

“Being raised by relatives isn’t uncommon. She’s done well in spite of her circumstances.”

“And can a person really cry that sorrowfully? Highly suspicious.”

“Everyone looks tragic when they cry. It just means she expresses emotion in a healthy, adult way.”

“…”

Kiaros’s aide was competent—but had a minor flaw: a distinct lack of tact.

Kiaros stared at him, unimpressed.

“…O-of course!”

Thankfully, his aide had one saving grace: he could pick up on things, if you gave him a moment.

“Those are just my thoughts, of course. But Your Highness might see something deeper. If you sense something strange about Roapia, of course it must be investigated thoroughly.”

Only then did Kiaros nod in satisfaction.

“Exactly. So, find out what happened to her presumed biological father—that missing younger brother of the Baron. Do whatever it takes.”

“Yes, understood.”

“This is only because the situation seems suspicious.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not personally concerned or emotionally invested. It’s a purely official investigation.”

“Absolutely, Your Highness.”

The aide nodded vigorously in agreement.

Then, with genuine loyalty and enthusiasm, he declared:

“I’ll relay this immediately to the Crows stationed in the South—even though they’re already swamped trying to track down a certain girl they’ve been searching for the past fifteen years.”

The Southern Crows.

Kiaros felt guilty adding more tasks to those already busy agents.

But Namia Roapia was just too suspicious. He had no choice but to dig deeper.

‘Ah, wait a moment.’

Just as he was about to return his gaze to the documents, his brow furrowed.

‘That girl they’ve been looking for… she’d be around Namia Roapia’s age now, wouldn’t she?’

Urgently, his mind began to turn back—reaching into the past.

To a memory from when he was ten years old, during his first “Dark Period.”

***

Kiaros ’s Past:

The summer Kiaros turned ten.

He accompanied the Emperor on a tour of the South.

At the time, the Emperor was in excellent health.

He had even once transformed into a dragon to personally annihilate a horde of monsters threatening the southern provinces.

“I want to be twenty-five already, Your Majesty.”

The boy Kiaros said eagerly as he watched the Emperor with admiration. The Emperor smiled warmly and tousled his hair.

“You’ve got to get through the Dark Period first, Kiaros. That will come for you one day, too.”

“But after that, I’ll be fine, right?”

Kiaros had been born stronger than most. To him, the Dark Period didn’t seem like a big deal.

He saw regular humans as weak, feeble things.

And Kiaros, even among royals, had been born with an unusually strong strain of dragonblood. That only heightened his arrogance.

“They say during the Dark Period, I won’t be able to use aura and my body will weaken… So it’s just a waste of time, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. But you’re still immature and full of pride, so you wouldn’t understand. It’s not entirely wasted.”

The Emperor spoke gently to his son, who still lacked humility and understanding.

“You’ll learn something from the experience, Kiaros. Even becoming weak teaches you something. And for a cocky brat like you, it might be a valuable lesson in growth. But regardless…”

Then, he added in a serious tone:

“Kiaros, you must endure the Dark Period. And never let anyone outside know how weak you’ve become. If you fall, the Empire falls.”

“Yes, I’ll remember that.”

Kiaros answered lightly. He’d been told he was the Empire’s future so often that it no longer even fazed him.

“By the way, Your Majesty, I heard there’s a really big library nearby. May I visit it tomorrow? I’d like to look through some of the southern swordsmanship manuals.”

The Emperor had been invited to a local lord’s castle. Kiaros found such events dreadfully dull and would rather spend his time exploring the region’s unique books.

“Sure. But take your guards—your Dark Period could arrive at any moment.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After years of hearing the same warning, but with no sign of that period actually coming, he had grown careless.

‘It’s just a library. No need to overdo it.’

To conceal his identity as the Crown Prince, he wore plain clothes and tucked his golden hair under a hood.

He didn’t bother altering his appearance through magic—he reserved that power for family secrets.

He read a few swordsmanship books at the library, but soon felt restless.

‘Maybe I should stretch a bit.’

As he returned a book to the shelf, his gaze drifted—landing on a girl by the window.

‘What’s she drawing so seriously? She looks pretty young.’

She wore a wide-brimmed hat that hid most of her face.

Her hair was tied up tightly, so he couldn’t even tell the color.

But she wore a long skirt down to her ankles and tattered ribboned shoes.

That’s how he guessed she was a girl.

‘She hasn’t moved at all.’

She was scribbling furiously with a cheap quill on the library’s recycled paper. Piled beside her were books on scroll magic.

‘She must be really into magic.’

Kiaros, as a dragonblooded royal, had little interest in scrolls or magic.

He just thought it was impressive how focused the child was.

‘Tiny hands and feet like a doll, just scribbling away. Kind of adorable.’

That was the extent of his attention. He turned and stepped outside into the courtyard behind the library.

He was about to try out a new southern sword form when—

‘Huh?’