The laughter slowly faded from the training grounds.
Snow drifted gently from the northern skies.
The cold winds of Frostbound Coast swept across the training field.
Several knights still laughed whenever they remembered the idea of an Aura Woman being assigned paperwork.
Meanwhile.
Kel had already lost interest in the discussion.
Not because he disliked the conversation.
Quite the opposite.
The conversation had given him something valuable.
An idea.
And ideas were dangerous.
Especially when they reached Kel Rosenfeld.
The Count slowly stood.
His dark coat fluttered softly in the winter breeze.
Silver hair swayed lightly behind him.
His expression remained calm.
Almost too calm.
The knights immediately became nervous.
Because they recognized that look.
That wasn't the look of someone ending a discussion.
That was the look of someone about to create another disaster.
"My Lord?"
Kel looked toward Gareth.
"Yes?"
The Captain hesitated.
Then sighed.
"Please don't invent anything world-changing before dinner."
The surrounding knights immediately nodded.
A reasonable request.
A very reasonable request.
Kel blinked.
Then replied honestly.
"I'll try."
The answer somehow frightened everyone more.
Because it wasn't a promise.
It was merely an attempt.
The Count calmly turned around.
"Resume training."
The command immediately echoed throughout the grounds.
The knights straightened instinctively.
"YES, MY LORD!"
The thunderous response shook the air.
Then the soldiers slowly returned to their duties.
Though many continued whispering.
Mostly about Aura Clerks.
Aura Women.
Aura Potatoes.
Aura Paperwork.
The entire discussion had permanently damaged military discipline.
Meanwhile.
Kel began walking toward the mansion.
The snow crunched beneath his boots.
Several servants bowed as he passed.
The glowing roads of Frostbound Coast stretched into the distance.
Merchants traveled through the streets.
Workers moved between construction sites.
Children played near heated gardens.
Life.
Everywhere.
Kel silently observed it all.
Then continued walking.
A few moments later.
Another set of footsteps appeared beside him.
Lyra.
The serpent woman walked quietly.
Her long crimson hair danced within the northern winds.
The dark winter cloak draped over her shoulders.
Golden eyes observed him carefully.
For several minutes.
Neither spoke.
Then finally.
Lyra sighed.
"What are you thinking about?"
Kel glanced toward her.
"The Aura Pens."
"..."
"..."
Of course.
Lyra rubbed her forehead.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Kel seemed genuinely confused.
"About what?"
"The fact that you stopped thinking about swords and started thinking about paperwork."
The Count considered.
Then nodded.
"That's fair."
Lyra suddenly felt exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Sometimes speaking with Kel felt like speaking with an ancient scholar trapped inside a young noble's body.
The two eventually entered the mansion.
Servants immediately greeted them.
Warm air replaced the winter cold.
Golden chandeliers illuminated the grand halls.
The interior felt peaceful.
Comfortable.
Alive.
Lyra stretched lazily.
The earlier battle had left her tired.
The hour-long duel.
The breakthrough.
The blood swords.
The endless conversations.
It had been a long day.
"I'm going to my room."
Kel nodded.
"Rest."
The serpent woman paused.
Then smiled faintly.
"You too."
The Count simply waved.
A response suspiciously lacking commitment.
Lyra narrowed her eyes.
"You aren't going to rest, are you?"
Kel remained silent.
Which answered the question perfectly.
The serpent woman sighed.
Then walked away.
Several minutes later.
She disappeared toward the residential wing.
Meanwhile.
Kel entered his study.
The heavy wooden doors closed behind him.
Silence.
Perfect silence.
The room was illuminated by magical lamps.
Bookshelves lined the walls.
Maps covered nearby tables.
Countless reports sat neatly organized.
This was his battlefield.
And unlike the training grounds.
No one could observe him here.
The Count slowly sat in his chair.
Then exhaled.
Not from exhaustion.
From focus.
His eyes drifted toward the paperwork.
A mountain.
An actual mountain.
The administrative departments reduced the burden significantly.
Yet Frostbound Coast expanded every day.
More roads.
More settlements.
More contracts.
More organizations.
More problems.
Paperwork multiplied faster than monsters.
The realization annoyed him.
Then.
The earlier conversation resurfaced.
Aura Pens.
The Count slowly tapped the desk.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Analyzing.
Then.
Mana stirred.
The atmosphere changed.
One Aura Pen appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
Ten elegant Aura Pens floated around him.
Each one radiated faint silver-blue light.
The study became silent once more.
Kel watched them carefully.
Then assigned tasks.
One reviewed military reports.
One reviewed financial records.
One categorized construction requests.
One organized trade agreements.
The remaining pens immediately began writing.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
The sound echoed throughout the room.
Kel observed.
Everything functioned correctly.
But a problem remained.
Energy.
Mana.
The pens constantly consumed resources.
Every movement.
Every decision.
Every letter.
Required power.
The Count narrowed his eyes.
His own mana reserves were enormous.
Ridiculous even.
Yet maintaining hundreds.
Or eventually thousands.
Would become inefficient.
The solution had to be sustainable.
Then.
A memory surfaced.
Pocket Dimension.
The Dragon Generals.
Kel slowly leaned backward.
Thinking.
Within his private dimensional prison remained eleven Dragon Generals.
Ancient beings.
Powerful beings.
Dangerous beings.
Prisoners.
Chains restrained them.
Seals imprisoned them.
For months.
The chains continuously consumed Kel's mana.
Not enough to matter.
But enough to exist.
Then.
A realization appeared.
The chains were already connected.
Energy already flowed.
The direction was simply wrong.
The Count became silent.
Very silent.
Dangerously silent.
Deep beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren suddenly felt nervous.
"...Kel."
No answer.
The Guardian immediately became concerned.
Because she knew that silence.
"Kel?"
Still no answer.
Then.
The Count smiled.
A small smile.
The kind that usually preceded impossible events.
Seiren immediately groaned.
"What are you planning?"
Kel finally replied.
"Optimization."
The Guardian sighed.
"That word should be illegal."
Meanwhile.
Inside the study.
Space twisted.
The room darkened slightly.
Ancient runes emerged.
A dimensional gateway appeared.
Beyond it.
A prison.
An endless prison.
Gigantic chains stretched through darkness.
Eleven Dragon Generals remained imprisoned.
Some sleeping.
Some meditating.
Some glaring.
All dangerous.
All powerless against their restraints.
One ancient dragon slowly opened an eye.
Then another.
The colossal creature immediately noticed Kel.
"...Human."
Its voice shook the dimension.
Another dragon opened its eyes.
Then another.
Soon.
Eleven pairs of eyes observed him.
Kel ignored them.
Instead.
He examined the chains.
Mana flowed continuously.
Just as expected.
Then.
The Count raised a hand.
The runes changed.
The chains trembled.
The dragons immediately became alert.
One growled.
"What are you doing?"
No answer.
Another dragon narrowed its eyes.
Then suddenly realized something.
And froze.
The energy flow.
Had reversed.
The realization spread instantly.
Every Dragon General widened their eyes.
The chains no longer consumed Kel's mana.
Instead.
They consumed theirs.
The imprisoned dragons collectively experienced horror.
Pure horror.
The ancient beings immediately understood.
A prison consuming its prisoners.
An eternal battery.
One dragon roared.
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"
Kel looked up.
Then calmly replied.
"I just did."
The dragon nearly exploded from rage.
Meanwhile.
The chains began absorbing energy.
Slowly.
Safely.
Efficiently.
The stolen energy traveled through the dimensional network.
Into the study.
Into the Aura Pens.
The ten pens immediately brightened.
Their movements accelerated.
Their efficiency increased.
The scratching sounds intensified.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Ten independent pens worked simultaneously.
The mountain of paperwork visibly shrank.
Kel observed quietly.
Then nodded.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
Deep beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren covered her face.
"You turned ancient dragon generals into office supplies."
Kel thought briefly.
"Technically they're power sources."
The Guardian stared.
Then laughed.
Laughed harder than she had all day.
Because somewhere.
Across existence.
Across history.
Across countless worlds.
Ancient Dragon Generals were feared.
Kings feared them.
Empires feared them.
Heroes feared them.
Yet somehow.
Kel Rosenfeld had transformed eleven ancient dragon generals into the magical equivalent of administrative department funding.
And the worst part?
The system worked perfectly.
Meanwhile.
Inside her room.
Lyra suddenly paused.
The serpent woman looked toward Kel's study.
A strange sensation passed through her instincts.
Danger.
Not physical danger.
Something else.
The feeling that Frostbound Coast had just become slightly more terrifying.
Though she had absolutely no idea why.
And far away.
Inside an endless prison.
Eleven Dragon Generals listened helplessly as the scratching sounds of paperwork echoed through the chains connected to their souls.
At that moment.
Every single one of them realized.
Their enemy wasn't cruel.
Their enemy wasn't evil.
Their enemy was efficient.
And somehow.
That was infinitely worse.