Funny how life can go from streaming and snacking to dealing with mages and running a guild in the blink of an eye. Me, Nash, the undisputed champion of procrastination, somehow ended up having to save the magical world—or at least keep an eye on it.

My alarm goes off, blaring an obnoxious reminder of my new responsibilities. I slap it off, my hand landing somewhere between the snooze button and the table. The smell of fresh coffee and dust hangs in the air, welcoming me to yet another day I'd rather spend in bed.

Putting on my Warden gear feels like reluctantly stepping into a superhero's shoes. The leather boots creak with every step, the cloak itches, and the sword—seriously, who needs a sword nowadays?

I head to the Guild HQ, a building that looks like it's straight out of a fantasy movie, complete with stone gargoyles at the entrance. My father, a legendary Warden, left me with this burden after deciding to retire to some exotic beach beyond dimensions.

My daily routine involves talking to pompous advisors and reviewing bizarre reports about invasive magical creatures. People around here take this seriously, but honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else.

That's when Aunt Libel shows up, my advisor and a mage with a flair for style. "Hey, Nash. Rough morning again?" she asks, a teasing smile on her lips.

Yes, my advisor calls me by my first name. And in case you're wondering if there's anything going on between us, let me clarify—nope. Tempting idea, maybe, but I'm a guy with a code. Besides, she used to work with my dad, so to her, I'm practically a nephew or something like that. So yeah, not happening.

Back to the story.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say with fake enthusiasm, stretching like I'm gearing up for a nap.

Aunt Libel rolls her eyes. "I'm not sure how your dad thought you'd be the right fit, but oh well, we're stuck with you."

Honestly, I'm still not sure what he was thinking either.

The rest of the day is a series of boring meetings and crucial decisions that I conveniently leave to others. My mind drifts off, thinking how a dragon would probably be easier to handle than this guild.

Finally, back at home—or rather, in the private wing of HQ that serves as my retreat—I collapse onto my couch. Then I realize I'm supposed to do something useful today. Maybe save the world or something?

The door swings open. Yep, people just walk into my quarters without knocking. Respect is dead.

A woman walks in. Not just any woman—it's Kathleen, the Council's envoy. The Council is this big shot group that runs the magical world in this country. Kathleen's job is to bring their instructions and update us on new directives.

She looks as serious as an invisibility spell, but there's something in her gaze that says this isn't a social call. Then again, she never stops by just to chat.

"Good morning, Magister Roskales," she says, her tone colder than an ice spell.

Unlike Aunt Libel, Kathleen and I are the same age. And yes, I know what you're thinking—why not try to make a move on her, right? Here's my answer: not a chance.

It's not for lack of trying, trust me. Every attempt has ended with me getting turned into a toad. After several tries, even a slacker like me learns a lesson. That woman is a minefield. One of my life's last wishes is to see who manages to win her over. I'd make him my life coach on the spot.

"Hey, Kathleen. Here to bask in my guildmaster wisdom?"

She sighs, completely ignoring my sarcasm. "The former Magister believed you had what it takes, but so far, all I see is a slacker."

"Ouch. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kathleen. You know I'm just here for decoration, right?"

She steps closer, her gaze fixed on me. "Is that what you think? Anyway, there's an urgent matter I need to discuss with you."

Like I said, never a social call.

I sit up from the couch. "Who says I'm not busy, Kathleen?"

It's true, by the way. As guildmaster, I've got affairs to handle every day. I'm a busy guy, right?

Ignoring my words, Kathleen just stares at me with that killer glare of hers. Wait, she wouldn't actually turn me into a toad again, would she?

Coffee. Coffee fixes everything—or at least, that's what I tell myself, hoping it'll help me survive Kathleen's death stare.

"Alright, I've got some time now. But we're getting coffee first, okay?"

Kathleen stares at me for a moment before finally sitting across from me.

"What'll you have?" I ask, getting up to head to the kitchen. "A coffee with almond leaves, or maybe an aphrodisiac espresso?"

She raises an eyebrow but eventually replies, "Just black coffee, please."

I head to the kitchen to brew our potions, letting the aroma fill the air before we dive into business. I opt for a sweet, mild coffee for myself—if we're going to talk magical problems, might as well have some decent caffeine.

I return with two steaming mugs, setting them down as I take a seat. I sip my coffee, hoping it'll work wonders for my motivation.

"Alright, Kathleen," I begin, placing my cup down with a ceramic clink. "Tell me what's going on. Why are you here, other than to remind me I'm unfit to be guildmaster?"

She sighs, as if she expected my reaction. "Recently, a Malefic who disappeared years ago has resurfaced. Rumors are circulating that she's plotting something. Since she's currently operating in your region, the Council has tasked your guild with uncovering her plans. Stopping her would be ideal, of course."

I take another sip, listening with a mix of indifference and skepticism. "So, you want me to get up from my comfy chair and solve this problem?"

Kathleen fixes me with a serious look. "Exactly. And no, I'm not here to criticize. The Council doubts your legitimacy as Magister, and to prove yourself worthy of the title, you need to act."

I sigh, irritated by the idea of actual work. "Look, Kathleen, I'm guildmaster in name, not in duty. I can't do much. Just talk to Aunt Libel like usual—she'll know what to do."

She seems a bit annoyed by my response, but it's the truth. My father, while alive, kept me away from all things magical to give me a 'normal' life. As a result, I'm pretty new at this gig. Best to leave it to the pros, right? My role mostly involves stamping documents and showing up at monthly guild meetings.

"Oh, really?" Kathleen says with a mocking smirk.

Strange. Usually, she'd start lecturing me about my lack of enthusiasm before storming off to see Aunt Libel. But this time feels different.

Could she finally be fed up?

"It seems you don't fully grasp the situation, Magister Roskales," she continues.

What's that supposed to mean?

I start getting curious, and Kathleen must notice, judging by the slight satisfaction on her face.

"Know this—you're now a Warden affiliated with this guild, whether you like it or not. If you're stripped of your title, you'll be required to take on daily missions as a regular member. And I assure you, if that happens, I'll personally see to it that you get no days off, none whatsoever." Her gaze turns steely, an implicit warning in her words. "If you think your lazy life would be easier as a mere guild member, you're sorely mistaken, Magister Roskales."

I'm about to take another sip of my coffee, but I stop cold.

Is she serious?

My original plan was to slack off, forcing the guild or the Council to recognize my incompetence and dismiss me. I figured once the burden of guildmaster was off my shoulders, I could go back to my carefree life.

But then again, there was that confidentiality clause in the Warden contract.

Damn it! That'll teach me to sign anything just for some peace. So it's all ruined? Am I stuck with this for life? Father, is this really the fate you left for your son?

"Fine, what am I supposed to do, then?"

The words escape my thoughts, revealing my frustration.

Kathleen, on the other hand… is smiling? I knew she was a devil disguised as a beauty! It wouldn't surprise me if she's the one who reported me to the Council.

"It's simple. Occasionally complete important missions for the Council. That'll buy you more time as guildmaster, and you'll get some breaks between missions," she replies.

The thought of a few lazy moments sounds tempting, but serious magical missions give me chills.

Is there really no other way? I could run away, right? No, for a slacker like me, that'd be the worst choice. A lazy life with no freedom is a nightmare.

"Alright, alright," I finally say.

There's no way out. This is all Father's fault. I swear, I'll find a way to resurrect you!

"Tell me the details of this mission. It's urgent, right? Better to deal with it quickly."

Nothing will stop me from preserving my lazy lifestyle!

To be continued...

Next Chapter: Nash, Can You be Serious for a Second?