An Unpleasant Colleague

“So, what was that all about? Mr. Average.”

I had barely returned to my seat when Arnold, an Oni colleague sitting at the desk next to mine, spoke to me with feigned familiarity.

Although he was a junior three years younger than me, he was already a rising star who had mastered Intermediate Magic Transmutation using magic circles. To top it off, he was quite handsome, tall, and had needlessly long legs.

He was certainly talented and good-looking, but he was also the type of person who looked down on others without a second thought. What made him even worse was that he was completely oblivious to his own arrogance.

Knowing that engaging him seriously would only be exhausting, I brushed him off with a noncommittal answer.

“Oh, just some minor business. Don’t worry about it.”

“There you go again, forgetting your honorifics. Your manners really are lacking, aren’t they?”

My motto is usually “keep things peaceful,” but for some reason, I never felt the slightest urge to act subservient toward this guy. I’ve told him before that I have no reason to use formal speech with a colleague, but every time I do, he gives me a look of pure confusion. Then, with a pitying tone, he’ll say something like, “I suppose your parents didn’t raise you properly.”

In his mind, it was only natural for a superior being like himself to be treated with absolute respect by everyone around him. Therefore, he felt it was his duty to “correct” the foolish people who failed to do so.

It was, quite frankly, none of his damn business.

“Besides, you’re not the one who decides whether a matter is minor or not. I am.”

Continuing his selfish streak, Arnold snatched the documents right out of my hand before I could stop him and began scanning them.

“I see, I see. Twenty counts of and for White-Root Flower elixir. Fifteen counts of for venom glands from Bitter Caterpillars for vitality drugs… Hmph, the same tedious work as always.”

“Leave me alone.”

I had already tucked the Workshop Master’s transfer order into my inner pocket before leaving his office. In its place, I had subtly picked up the list of today’s work quotas.

Arnold flicked the paper back to me with a bored expression and shrugged theatrically. Then, he added with studied nonchalance:

“Oh, how disappointing. I was sure you’d been fired over that business at the tavern.”

—So it was him.

I barely stopped myself from clenching my fist. I wasn’t stupid; when I went around the taverns, I kept my hood pulled low to hide my face as much as possible. I’d even used a voice-altering potion to be thorough. Unless someone knew me very well, they shouldn’t have been able to identify me so easily. The fact that the Knights had narrowed it down so quickly meant someone close to me had likely snitched.

I managed to keep my voice steady, but I couldn’t hide the look in my eyes. Noticing my glare, Arnold let the corner of his lip curl up.

“I suppose it’s only natural for someone like you, Mr. Average, to be dissatisfied with the world. But playing around with such foolish rumors is really quite unacceptable.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At my reply, Arnold kept his thin smirk and gave another exaggerated shrug. Looking at his junior’s mask-like expression, I finally noticed the malice lurking beneath it.

He had been waiting for this. He’d been watching for any opportunity to eliminate someone who didn’t fit his world view. And because I had underestimated him as nothing more than an arrogant prick, I had successfully been kicked out.

Furthermore, from an outsider’s perspective, his actions weren’t “wrong” at all. To anyone else, it was clear that I was the villain for spreading ominous rumors in taverns night after night. He was merely the “righteous man” following his conscience to report a colleague who might hold dangerous ideologies.

What’s more, he hadn’t even explicitly admitted to reporting me to the Knights yet. He was being deliberately provocative without giving me any verbal evidence to use against him.

Arnold nodded happily and peered into my eyes as if trying to see right through me.

“Judging by that face, it’s certain you’ve been fired—or something close to it. Well, the Workshop Master is soft on you, so I imagine a demotion to the countryside was the compromise.”

I could only fall silent as my junior accurately guessed the situation. Seeing me like this, Arnold’s smirk widened.

“Even with you, Mr. Average, I’ll be a bit sad to see you go. Oh, I know. As a parting gift, shall I help you with that transmutation? However…”

The Oni youth paused for a beat before declaring with theatrical flair:

“If you say, ‘Please, Lord Arnold, help me,’ I might consider lending a hand. Come on, let’s hear it, Mr. Average.”

This guy…

Even in this situation, he was still obsessed with such petty things. Because of people like him, how many would—

A boiling heat rose from the pit of my stomach, threatening to twist my expression, but I stopped myself at the last second. It wasn’t because of anger at being sabotaged, but rather because I felt a profound sense of pity for him.

Besides, if I thought about it, thanks to him, a tiny glimmer of hope had finally appeared.

Misinterpreting my silence, the man in front of me pressed his advantage triumphantly.

“Look, with that workload, it’ll take you all day. Are you sure you can afford to be so leisurely?”

As he pointed out, if I were the same man with meager magical power I used to be, this amount of transmutation would be nearly impossible. It wouldn’t just take all day; it would certainly bleed into tomorrow. If that happened, the chances of running into the Knights would skyrocket.

In fact, I usually never had to handle this much work at once. It was almost certainly his doing—another “parting gift” from the man smiling so brightly in front of me. And he had gambled on the fact that, given my personality, I wouldn’t be able to abandon a job once I’d accepted it.

I let out a long sigh and looked back into my colleague’s eyes, which were filled with a mix of contempt and glee. After staring at him for a moment, I spoke calmly.

“Actually, I’m already finished.”

“What?”

While we were talking, I had finished packing my personal belongings from the desk. I stood up, leaving my colleague with a stunned expression.

Arnold raised his voice in a panic. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? Mr. Average. Abandoning your work isn’t like you.”

“Hey, how long are you going to keep chatting, Al? The White-Root extracts and Bitter Caterpillars were finished ages ago. Get to the process already. There are over thirty of them; if you don’t hurry, you’ll be working overtime.”

It was the supervisor of the Compounding Department who cut into our conversation. Following the supervisor’s gaze to the shared workbench, Arnold’s eyes went wide at the mountain of prepared materials sitting there.

He turned back and glared at me with eyes filled with pure, intense hatred. The composed, refined expression he had worn until a moment ago had vanished completely. His lips, pale and trembling, opened as he squeezed out a question.

“…………How? How did you do it?”

Instead of answering, I simply shrugged my shoulders and tilted my head. Then, I added one more thing.

“More importantly, what’s wrong with you? Your manners have become quite crude.”

In the next instant, a brilliant light overflowed from the horn on the forehead of the rising Arnold. It was a backflow of magical power that occurs when one cannot control their emotions. While it can’t be helped with children, for an adult, it’s a deeply embarrassing display.

Stunned, Arnold clutched his forehead and slumped back into his chair, powerless. I turned on my heel and left my dejected junior behind. Anger still smoldered in my chest, but further provocation would only cause unnecessary trouble. I took a deep breath to calm myself. That last bit wasn’t very like me.

Regaining my composure, I offered brief farewells to the few coworkers I was on decent terms with. Though it had been a ten-year career, the parting was over in a flash.

And so, I left the workplace I had known for a decade.

Exiting the workshop, I took a long stretch. Spread out before me was a vista of grand stone and brick buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. National flags featuring a horned dragon were hung from eaves everywhere, preparations for the spring Foundation Day festival.

The crowd was so dense the cobblestones were invisible—people, people, and more people. The clatter of hooves from horses and donkeys carrying pack saddles rang out, overlaid by the hawking voices of itinerant craftsmen carrying their tools. A shop apprentice was desperately trying to lure in a group of pilgrims with white cloths wrapped around their heads. A noisy throng of laborers hurried past, followed by mercenaries in imposing leather armor moving at a leisurely pace. Deeper in the crowd, a street performer in gaudy attire showed off his skills to earn his drinking money for the day.

It was the same chaotic hustle and bustle as always. No matter where you went, there were too many people; I’d never been able to truly relax here. Prices were high, and many people were unkind. The back alleys were filled with trash, and encounters with pickpockets were common. Despite living here for over twenty years, I had few memories of the city that I actually cherished.

And yet, I liked this Royal Capital in my own way.

I turned my gaze toward the far side of the throng. Towering over the city on a particularly high vantage point was a massive, chalk-white fortress. This was Bright-Horn Castle, the home of Her Majesty Queen Waltrude, the ruler of this Holy Kingdom of Vilnia, who wears the Great Triple Crown. With its sturdy stone gates and thick walls, its many spires draped with red banners seemed to pierce the heavens. It was a view that could only be described as absolute.

I moved my gaze even higher.

Floating in the midday sky alongside the sun was a massive, pure white moon. For some reason, black curved lines ran across its round surface. It was a mysterious sight, yet I was the only one who bothered to stop and look up.

“I wanted to do something about it, but…”

In this massive city, over a hundred thousand people lived, including Workshop Master Barnabas and even the unpleasant Arnold.

Exactly three years from now, that moon would cause this place to be swallowed by flames, and every single person here, without exception, was destined to turn to ash.

And I was likely the only person in this world who knew that fact.