[Haimirich Empire: the emperor's office]
"Conan!"
Abel tapped his fingers against the surface of his desk impatiently, watching the door fly open. But instead of Conan, it was Isaiah, who was by the door, strutting his way in as if he owned the place.
"Where is Conan??" asked the impatient Abel, frowning at seeing how calm Isaiah was. The latter perched on the settee leisurely, shooting Abel a casual look.
"He said he is busy. He molded a cork to fit his ears to deafen himself."
"Hah… is he stalling time? How competitive!" Abel scoffed in dismay, glancing at the door when an old scholar of the empire knocked and opened it.
The middle-aged man, Conan's proxy, entered. He was carrying a thin stack of documents, which was very unlike the usual amount of paperwork that would enter and leave the emperor's office every day.
