The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success Chapter 83

 

Meanwhile, Keyvon kept speaking.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t just say I was upset—I’d have grabbed you by the collar.”

“N-no, but… you can’t do that to a younger guy…”

“If it were me.”

Keyvon cut Victor off coldly before he could make his nice-guy excuse.

“I wouldn’t have had the composure or restraint to think that far.”

Even Victor’s rowdy friends, who had been chatting outside, had fallen completely silent.

All that could be heard now was Anastasia’s heavy breathing.

Then—

Keyvon, seeming to sense something off, said:

“Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.”

Hey.

Not now. That’s not the time to say that…

“Hahahaha! Our intern buddy likes to list his flaws like a self-introduction, and in the weirdest contexts. Definitely a foreigner, huh?”

Victor let out a hearty laugh and patted Keyvon on the shoulder.

The guy really was annoyingly good-natured.

Then, with a small signal to his friends, he added,

“You all go ahead. Looks like our intern friend might have something he wants to say to me. I’ll join you after we clear the air.”

His friends nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, Victor! We’ll be waiting.”

“Hey, don’t… don’t make it too easy for him. Just because he’s a foreigner doesn’t mean you should spoil him, okay?”

“Right. When in the Empire, follow the Empire’s rules.”

They each threw in a comment and filed out like receding tidewater.

Victor slung an arm around Keyvon’s shoulders with a smile.

“Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding between us… and things always get messier when people are watching, right? Come on, buddy, let’s take a quick walk.”

***

A back alley in the southern district.

“Haaah…”

An older, broad-shouldered man gritted his teeth and leaned on his cane.

“…This is insane.”

The old man who had just reduced the alleyway to rubble—

Was none other than the Master of the Mage Tower.

Standing atop the wreckage, he let out a sharp whistle.

With a fwiish sound, a messenger hawk swooped down in response.

“How in the world…”

A deep crease formed on the Mage Tower Master’s brow.

“What am I supposed to do… Aran, you… I…”

His eyes welled up with tears.

“This… this is beyond what I can fix…”

Aran, his only daughter, was his most precious treasure. He had raised her like a princess in the Mage Tower.

[I want to use magic too…]

[Magic? You don’t need it! Don’t you know your daddy will do anything for you if you so much as twitch a finger?]

[But you can use magic—why can’t I?]

[Ahh… magical talent isn’t hereditary. My sweet Aran didn’t inherit a single grain of it.]

Looking back now, he realized he’d spoiled her rotten and ruined her in the process.

[But I want to take over as the next Mage Tower Master!]

[Oh no, Aran. The Tower is a meritocracy. There’s no place for a magicless failure like you.]

Still, the Mage Tower Master had tried to raise her with a dose of realism, or so he thought.

[You live so comfortably because of your daddy’s reputation, but truth is, you don’t even have the skill to assist a low-tier mage, let alone become the Master of the Tower.]

[I hate this! I want to do magic too!]

Seeing her so distressed over her lack of talent, he had even tried to offer solutions.

[Then marry the next Tower Master. That way, you can boss him around instead of me!]

[No! I want to do it myself!]

[Aww, even when you throw tantrums, you’re adorable. But no matter how much of a fit my sweet little Aran throws, some things just can’t be helped.]

Truthfully, magic wasn’t that impressive a power anymore. There were plenty of scrolls designed for general public use.

And outside the Mage Tower? Magic wasn’t even particularly respected.

But for Aran, the Tower was the world.

After her adolescent rebellion and brief runaway stint, her eyes had changed slightly.

‘That must’ve been when she met those damned Reformist scum.’

The Tower Master groaned softly.

He had originally planned to somehow drag Aran back and hide her again in the Mage Tower. He feared she would be punished by the imperial family.

‘But… I get it now.’

He stroked the messenger hawk for a long while, lost in thought.

‘She’s gone too deep. And now, the Reformist Faction… is beyond anything I can take on alone.’

He had wanted to sneak his daughter out of a bad organization.

But that was no longer an option. The way things were going, that “bad organization” might just overturn the whole continent.

‘Otherwise… she’ll be in danger too.’

He slowly closed his eyes.

A final image flashed in his mind—Namia’s face at the palace.

[I feel like I’m intruding on a moment that should be just for family…]

According to speculation, Namia was Aran’s daughter. His granddaughter.

His own granddaughter had grown up so lonely—always tiptoeing around others, watching their faces.

‘Maybe it was the “modification.”’

She had the innate magical ability Aran had always wanted.

But her eyes were full of solitude.

‘There’s no other way.’

Though they had always butted heads, the only ones he could now trust… were the Dragonkin.

He wrote down everything he had uncovered about the Reformist Faction, then tied the message to the hawk’s leg.

[My sweet Aran, Daddy loves you. I love you more than anything in the world.]

[Why do you love me? I’m just a magicless failure.]

[Because you’re my daughter. That alone is enough to give you everything.]

The memories of the love he had poured into her stabbed at his heart.

‘Aran… it’s time to let go of this twisted love.’

So this was the price of his love. And the conclusion had been inevitable from the start.

‘Even I can’t cover for you anymore. You… will have to face justice.’

However, the note on the hawk’s leg said nothing about Namia being Aran’s daughter.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to write it.

‘Dragonkin don’t know mercy. If they learn Namia’s true identity, they might execute her on the spot.’

The Tower Master squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

‘Namia… she’ll keep getting stronger, without even realizing it. Stronger than anyone could imagine.’

By then, the hawk was already on its way, soaring toward the Imperial Palace.

‘Now then…’

The Tower Master reopened his eyes.

With a flick of his cane, he turned and began walking away.

‘Guess I’d better go rescue that idiot son-in-law next.’

***

Victor led Kiaros to a secluded corner of the palace garden.

Hm?

Kiaros narrowed his eyes, thinking to himself.

I never even considered this place…

Despite having been born and raised in the palace, even he found the location unfamiliar. He had known it existed but had never really registered it.

It was that tucked away—a place people rarely passed.

“Hoo…”

Facing Kiaros, Victor dug into his pocket. The bright smile he always wore had completely vanished.

Kiaros furrowed his brow at the sudden change in atmosphere.

He’d expected Victor to chuckle and say something like “Are you upset with me or something?”

But surprisingly, what Victor pulled from his pocket… was a cigar.

He smokes? I never noticed a whiff of it.

Despite his sensitive sense of smell, he hadn’t caught even a hint. That discrepancy made him uneasy.

Victor lit the cigar and exhaled a stream of smoke.

“Hey.”

Through the hazy smoke, Victor stared at him with dull, clouded eyes and spoke in a low voice.

“Know your place, kid. You’re getting too full of yourself. Huh?”

Kiaros stood expressionless, but he was inwardly stunned.

“If you’re a three-month intern, act like one.”

From the looks of it, neither Namia nor anyone else had any idea about this side of Victor.

Was he showing it only because Kiaros was “just” a temporary intern?

Or was it something else?

“‘Something precious’? God, that was nauseating… you little sh*t…”

Maybe it was something else.

“That woman’s been mine for a long time. So why don’t you take your foreign self and go back home and find a different girl, yeah?”

Yeah, it was probably the latter.