Chapter 32

‘Why the hell is that bastard up there as the Red Knights’ quartermaster when he’s supposed to be seated with the Quartermaster’s Office staff?’

Rodella’s voice was barely above a whisper, like it was meant to sink down her throat—but Aivert heard it clearly.

As expected. But he feigned ignorance.

“Someone you know?”

Aivert’s sharp blue eyes turned toward the man standing confidently on the platform.

“Oh, I know him alright. He’s the bastard who stole my achievements.”

‘Ryan Diepelt.’

That mortal enemy of hers—what the hell was he doing here?

Aivert’s gaze lingered slightly longer on Ryan Diepelt, who looked visibly tense as he climbed onto the stage, arms full of reports.

Meanwhile, Rodella let out a small laugh.

“So that bastard’s my opponent?”

Her hostility came through even more vividly to Aivert.

‘If he’s the kind of man who makes you scowl like that, you could’ve just asked me to take care of him.’  

That thought crossed his mind—but he knew her too well to say anything aloud.

“There’s no way I’m losing to that guy.”

But rather than unsettling her, his presence seemed to fire her up even more.

“Alright then, Ryan,” she muttered with a smirk.  

“Let’s see what your pathetic skills are worth. I’ll stomp all over you.”

She was blazing now, seizing the moment like a match thrown onto dry wood.

Aivert, watching her clench her fist with unshakable confidence, let out a silent laugh of his own.

* * *

Ryan Diepelt’s performance evaluations within the Ministry of Administration were stellar.

Internally, of course, his scores were excellent—backed solidly by the noble faction within the Ministry. And externally? When a few dozen faction members were racking their brains to put together the best-case scenario for him, how could the results look bad?

That said, it wasn’t top-tier either.

Rodella, upon seeing the spectacle, came to an important realization during her own time in the Ministry: Gathering a bunch of idiots doesn’t somehow make them smart.

Intelligence, she’d concluded, wasn’t additive—it was multiplicative. The more sub-par brains you threw into the mix, the lower the final result.

That principle would soon be reflected in his report.

Sure enough—

“Thus, the Red Knights achieved a 12% increase in material growth compared to last quarter.”

At that, the Emperor crossed his arms, and the Chancellor let out a laugh.

The only ones who didn’t seem to pick up on the tension were the Red Knights themselves. Meanwhile, Latine looked dumbfounded.

“Material growth? Since when do we track that in a knights’ report?”

“What is this, a merchant guild?”

They still hadn’t figured out the core of what their presentation was supposed to be.

Rodella smirked.

“Just like always.”

It was the same approach they’d taken during internal evaluations. Seeing it again actually helped settle her nerves.

But wait… The internal finances of the knights’ orders are classified to outsiders. Even if they’re from the same Ministry, sharing it with staff not assigned to the unit is illegal.

Hard to prove, sure—but still.

She made a mental note of it and kept watching.

Not long after—

“Quartermaster of the Azure Knights, please step up to the platform.”

Her turn.

As she rose, a ripple of whispers spread through the room.

Some murmured with sympathy, assuming she’d been sacrificed to the doomed Azure Knights. But others—

“Ah, so it’s Lady Syveric who took that position.”

News was finally reaching the slow ones and the oblivious, and that realization buzzed through the chamber.

“Wait, she’s the Azure Knights’ quartermaster? That’ll kill her career.”

“What a waste of talent…”

The whispering was cut off abruptly in the next instant.

Because—unexpectedly—Aivert also stepped up onto the stage with her. Though only the quartermaster should have taken the platform, he accompanied her without hesitation, offering his arm in a quiet but flawless escort.

The way he looked at her—gentle, attentive—it was hard to believe this was the same man known across the empire as the “walking disaster” of the Azure Knights.

“I didn’t know he could escort someone so perfectly.”

“No noble lady would even try to receive one. Who wants a shattered rib for their trouble?”

Even the Red Knights seemed slightly stunned.

Rodella, overall, didn’t look the slightest bit nervous—despite essentially putting her life on the line.

The Chamberlain by the dais fidgeted nervously. The Emperor was already in a foul mood, and now there was an unexpected variable he hadn’t been briefed on.

Fortunately, the Emperor didn’t seem particularly bothered by the unexpected situation.

“Ah, the two of you are getting married soon, aren’t you?”

That was the extent of his reaction.

 “How kind of him, even carrying her things. And… the fact that the thing he’s carrying hasn’t been crushed is rather encouraging.”

That final quip actually earned a few chuckles, lightening the tension in the room.

No wonder—it was because Aivert was holding something long and flat, like a paper baton. A soft blue rectangular object, clearly some kind of presentation aid.

“What’s that?”

Curiosity about the unusual prop redirected everyone’s attention, and Aivert’s presence onstage was quickly reinterpreted as nothing more than a sweet fiancé’s considerate support.

Just as Rodella had planned.

—Tap.

Aivert carefully guided her to the center of the platform, ensuring she didn’t come within striking distance of any hostility from the Red Knights. Then he stood confidently by her side, as if it were only natural to protect and support the woman who would soon be his wife—step by step, no exceptions.

“They are the hottest couple in the social circuit these days, aren’t they?”

Even the Chancellor seemed to approve.

Latine, watching from below, breathed a small sigh of relief.

‘Good. Let’s keep it just like this. You’re doing great!’

“First, this is the performance report of the Azure Knights for the previous quarter.”

Rodella spoke with clarity, and Aivert moved in sync with her, prompted by her glance. He hadn’t forgotten her request from earlier—“Can you help me for a moment?”

—Clack.

He lifted the long rectangular prop in her place.

Rodella inwardly admired how deftly Aivert adjusted his posture to avoid making the positioning of her wrist look unnatural, despite the handcuffs. Impressive coordination.

Still, there was no time to waste. She turned to the prop.

On it, in bold, were the words:

“Azure Knights – Civilian Damage Compensation Costs, 2nd Half of Imperial Year 910”

Below that, a row of brutal figures.

“As you can see, these numbers represent last year’s second-half compensation paid by the Azure Knights for civilian damages.”

Of course, even those staggering numbers were just a drop in the bucket—because Latine had personally covered most of the damages out of his own pocket. With that excluded, the official cost had been a mere few tens of millions of gold.

Even so, the nobles were visibly shaken.

“It was that much?”

“I knew it was bad, but seeing the numbers like this…”

Even the ones who had been dozing off sat upright, fully focused on the presentation now.

‘That’s it!’

Rodella suppressed a triumphant smile.

In a potentially dull report like this, striking visuals were key.

…Of course, she hadn’t wanted to grab attention with catastrophic losses, but still—the real show was just beginning.

“Tsk. I mean, I knew this, but still…”

“It’s a miracle the order even functions.”

“Latine’s management skills must be incredible.”  They marveled.

Not that any of them had the faintest clue how much of his wallet Latine had sacrificed to keep things running.

“As you can see, last year’s damages were considerable. This year has been too. However—”

Rodella met Aivert’s gaze for a brief second.

—CRACK!

With a sharp motion, she snapped a section of the presentation baton clean off at a marked point.

“……!”

All eyes were instantly locked on her.

A presentation needs to be unforgettable to be remembered.

With this one, Rodella would make sure the transformation of the Azure Knights was known to all.

“Compared to the previous quarter, the damage compensation has decreased this much.”

She held up the broken piece of the presentation baton for all to see, then set it down.

Next, she peeled off a thin layer of paper from the section that had shown the previous quarter’s damages. It had only been lightly affixed at the corners, so the underlying numbers were revealed cleanly and instantly.

A quiet gasp rippled through the room.