The next few days had flown by. It was all a blur.
Konrad was desperate to catch up on all the paperwork, but—
Even with Eyna's and Yuki-chan's tremendous help, it seemed impossible.
Then, there was the steam-engine project. They had to finalise the blueprints and figure out what they needed to build it. What materials, runes, and failsafes would they have to include?
Start hiring the future operators. Sort out any logistical challenges before they arose.
It was a long process.
And turns out—
Building what brought on the Industrial Revolution on Earth was hard, even with magic.
Who would have thought, right?
And since Maou Midori went off to fight—or was otherwise busy—that didn't help, either.
Then, there were those invasions themselves.
Stella, Maou, the two other puppets, and his wives fought them every day and returned tired.
He wanted to support them as much as he could, but when they told him to lay low—?
Rather than joining the battles, he had to make sure they had every luxury. Good food and a quiet place to rest when they returned. Which—it wasn't even enough for some of them.
To put it in simple terms, Konrad's sexual life was on a steep rise.
And between trying to please his wives and helping Dmitry organise his army—
'You still only have 5000 mana, and you haven't even used it that much,' Paula scolded him.
"Well, duh," he grunted. "It's hard to concentrate when I'm always running everywhere."
And when he actually tried to focus, his parallel brain would keep bothering him like this.
"I use aggressive siphoning everywhere I go, but this area hasn't got the same density of essence as Aset. To feel out the cracks between dimensions—I'd need to sit down for an hour at least."
The best he could do was five or ten minutes at a time.
Being a duke was a busy job. And exhausting, too.
And even though he was out cold for entire days when he returned—
Sleep deprivation was already starting to catch up to him again.
"Master," Eyna said, interrupting his concentration. But she was the last person Konrad would get mad at, even then. "Here are the people I mentioned," she said. "They're all trustworthy."
"People?" he blinked, looking over the group crowding his spacy office.
"Yes. To help with all the bureaucratic work," the girl explained with a soft smile. "They can all read and write, count well, and are eager to work for their savior and duke."
Savior? Now that she mentioned it, he did recognise a few of them.
An elderly man—with a missing arm. Young yet wiry women in tribal garb, and a few warrior tattoos he had seen before. The Black River tribe? Damn, what a protector he was for them?!
If the purple-eyed beauty hadn't brought them here, he would already have forgotten.
"You all look much healthier now," he muttered, forcing a smile as he stood up to greet them.
But she said they could all read and write? These tribesmen?!
'That's kind of racist,' Paula scoffed inside his head.
'More like a realist,' Konrad grunted back. This time, he used proper telepathy. 'Literacy isn't that common in this world. In my village, less than ten people could write. And in the tribes—'
One desperate enough to try banditry, then was almost wiped out by mercenaries?
What were the odds the survivors were all educated?
"We will be forever in your debt, My Lord," the half-armed man rasped. "And we spent the past few months you granted us in our lives learning to be your worthy subjects."
Oh. That could have explained a few things.
But where? From who?
Konrad already wanted to set up a public school, but—
Did he actually do it and forget?!
'The benevolent lord who can't remember his subjects, nor what he did,' Paula hollered.
But since his life turned upside down the moment he turned eighteen—
No wonder some of the details had already slipped his mind.
'Well, good thing you have me, then,' the parallel brain thought. 'I can see all your faded memories, too, and no—you did not build a school yet. She hired some tutors, though.'
What?! He had already felt guilty for overworking her, and—
Wait. How did Paula even know that?
'They can read and write, but they can't lock me out of their minds,' she explained. 'They're like an open book to me, you know. And, well—I had to check the little girl's claims, after all.'
Ugh. Right.
Another thing he wished he could forget.
But Konrad couldn't exactly scold her when her caution could have saved his life.
'And did that poor old man actually lose his arm because of you?!'
Come on, as if she had to remind him about that failure in the Greater Dungeon.
He didn't forget. He didn't forgive himself, either.
But he took a deep breath now, and let it all out.
"All right, then," he muttered, having thought about it for a while. "All help is much appreciated, and I will pay you for your service, but—we'll have to set up a proper government office."
"Oh, we already have that, Master," Eyna claimed, her purple eyes bright.
And what?! Konrad had been touring the town at least half a dozen times since his return.
He didn't see anything like that.
"You remember those ruined inns and houses around the Church square, Master?" the girl asked. "Lady Lilith had torn them down and built a governmental palace in their place."
No freaking way she did that?!
And how could he miss it?
That said, he might've avoided the Church and its area during his tours.
Even if the Inquisition left, and he used that building before—
The memories still haunted him when Stella imprisoned him in the catacombs below.
"She wanted to tear down the temple as well," Eyna noted with a smirk. "But Lady Gabrielle told her off, since, well—the delegation arriving next week will take it over again."
"Hold on a second," Konrad scowled, unable to catch a break. "What delegation?!"
The girl blinked. Twice.
"The Church's? The next bishop who'll take over the secular matters in this region."
Now, that gave him the chills.
"Why didn't you tell me about it before?" Konrad demanded, but—
'She did. Last week,' Paula pointed out. 'Then yesterday, she asked if you remembered.'
No, no, no. He couldn't be that senile already.
He could see himself forgetting minor issues. But considering his history with the Church?!
'You were working on that steam engine prototype with the kid Mage,' the voice claimed.
Ah. Yeah. That did explain a few things.
"Okay, sorry, yes, you told me," he mumbled. "But after handing over Otto Ostfeld, I thought we made a pact with them already. Or at least, Gabby did."
"Yes," the dark-skinned beauty nodded. "And as far as I know, he's still in their dungeons."
Well, thank the spirits he was.
"But that doesn't mean the Church would leave the region without local management. Don't worry, Master. The Inquisition won't return with them, and they have no territorial demands."
Don't worry? What a thing to say.
But when he thought about it, even the Church had a reason to fear his wives, so—
Yeah. He should have been fine.