IPMPBB 40

Chapter 40

It was only after the professional inquisitors finished interrogating the heretic Latham that paperwork started piling up on my desk.

And just as Carlos said, after that, work began to “pour in.”

For a while, I was so buried in tasks that I barely left my office.

First of all, there were the heretics’ names, personal records, transfers, imprisonments, interrogations, and then calculating the costs of the subjugation operation, processing medical leave for the wounded, and assigning bonuses to participants…

There were so many documents that required the Knight Commander’s review and signature, it was no joke.

“I never thought I’d be thankful for being a civil service exam student in my past life…”

If I were the real Elia, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sit still and work all day like this.

And then, guests started showing up at the Knights’ Order.

The first guest was Count Gonnir of the Administrative Bureau.

He was extremely curious as to why we spent less than the allocated budget in the first subjugation.

“Isn’t saving money a good thing?”

At my puzzled question, Count Gonnir gave a wry smile.

“Well, that’s not necessarily welcomed by the Administration. Who was so competent?”

“…Sir Ivach.”

At my reply, Count Gonnir raised an eyebrow in surprise, as if he’d expected it but didn’t expect me to admit it so easily.

“I expected it to be Sir Ivach, but I didn’t think you’d acknowledge it so openly.”

“I’m no longer interested in stealing credit from my subordinates.”

I cleared my throat awkwardly.

In fact, in the reports I submitted to the Administration and the Imperial Palace, Carlos’s name was mentioned quite often.

“This event has greatly boosted Sir Ivach’s standing.”

While explaining how the subjugation ended so quickly, Count Gonnir said in a meaningful tone.

I sensed something in his voice and raised an eyebrow.

“Naturally.”

“You know the fact, but it seems you don’t understand what it means.”

“Is there a problem with Sir Ivach being rightfully recognized for his ability?”

At that, Count Gonnir made a very ambiguous expression.

“…It means you’ll start receiving more visitors.”

Visitors?

I tilted my head in confusion, and Count Gonnir pressed his lips together in frustration.

“Commander Elia, you say you’ve reformed, but haven’t you yet cleared your most important misdeed?”

“What do you—”

“At this point, I’ve more than earned the information I got from Spencer.”

Count Gonnir waved his hand dismissively and left my office as if he had nothing more to say.

Visitors? And an important misdeed left unresolved?

What the hell is he talking about?

“Could’ve explained a little more…”

I grumbled under my breath, left alone in the office.

Whether it was a blessing or a curse, I didn’t have to wait long to understand what he meant.

Because that very afternoon, an unexpected guest—and someone who could definitely be described as one of my “unresolved sins”—showed up at the 3rd Division with a swagger.

At the time that man arrived, I had just finished lunch and was taking a walk around the knights’ garden to help with digestion.

Sitting for too long made me feel bloated, even after meals lately.

‘Even a body trained in swordsmanship can suffer from indigestion… Then again, Elia hasn’t trained in a while.’

That idle thought crossed my mind as I reached the plaza with the fountain.

“Commander!”

I heard Cesare’s voice.

“What’s wrong? You’re out of breath…”

“It’s bad. It’s really bad!”

He was completely panicked, so I clapped my hands in front of his face.

“Explain, Cesare.”

Finally catching his breath, Cesare looked up at me, horrified.

“The vice commander is fighting with a high-ranking noble’s son!”

“…What?”

I was now the one stunned.

A noble’s son? And Carlos is fighting?

“We need to go. You have to go, Commander.”

“Why me?”

“Because they’re fighting… over you!”

What now?!

Determined to see for myself, I rushed out of the garden with Cesare.

The location wasn’t hard to find.

Because that “noble’s son” and Carlos were fighting right in front of my office.

“Everyone back up! This isn’t a show!”

Cesare scolded the gathered knights, who parted like the Red Sea.

Still, everyone wore serious expressions.

We pushed through the crowd toward the center.

“What the hell is going on…”

At the center—right in front of my office—stood Carlos, eyes blazing.

Across from him was a silver-haired man with an equally deadly expression. The two looked like they were about to throw punches.

That silver hair… it looked familiar.

And then—

“There you are, Elia.”

The silver-haired man beamed as soon as he saw me.

Who was he? It was on the tip of my tongue…

“Could you tell your mutt to back off?”

That sneering tone triggered a sharp memory in my brain.

This guy—he’s the one!

One of Elia’s hedonistic friends who used to insult Carlos while they all drank and put their feet on the table the night I possessed her!

“Looks like your mutt’s gotten cocky after earning some merit.”

Assuming my frozen expression meant agreement, the silver-haired man kept rambling.

“Trying to stop me from entering your office, and suddenly he’s offended by the word ‘mutt’?”

Suddenly, I understood what Count Gonnir meant.

Carlos’s rise in status had provoked Elia’s former delinquent friends.

I frantically dug through my memory for info on the silver-haired man.

‘Ulrich Graf. Second son of the Graf Count family, given the title of Baron of Mile. Elia’s number one so-called “best friend.”’

Here, “best friend” didn’t mean true friendship—it meant the guy who most eagerly egged Elia on during her worst behavior.

‘Inherited a title thanks to his father, spends all his time partying, and—most importantly—was always the first to insult Carlos.’

The more I remembered, the colder I became.

“Ulrich.”

I said his name, and his face lit up.

Meanwhile, Carlos’s face darkened.

‘But why didn’t Carlos just ignore him like usual?’

Carlos had always suppressed insults to avoid hurting his chances with the emperor.

I didn’t have time to ask that now, though.

Dealing with Ulrich came first.

“Elia, listen—”

Ulrich began with a smile.

Or tried to.

“What exactly am I supposed to listen to?”

My cold voice cut him off. Ulrich’s smile froze.

“What are you saying? Obviously, that mutt—”

“I’ve told you before, Ulrich.”

I interrupted him again and stepped forward.

Ulrich now wore a puzzled expression, as if wondering if I’d gone mad.

I grabbed his collar with my left hand.

“Don’t you dare call my subordinate—Sir Ivach—a mutt.”

Gasps erupted around us.

“…What?”

Ulrich seemed more shocked by my words than the fact I was grabbing him.

“Elia, are you drunk again?”

“I haven’t touched a drop since that night.”

(A lie—I’d had nightcaps from Mary—but now wasn’t the time for truth.)

“Then why are you acting like this? Why are you defending that mutt—”

“Sir Ivach is not someone who deserves to be called such a name!”

I cut him off decisively.

Now, the crowd truly began to murmur.