The Dragon Lord's Aide Wants to Quit [BL] Chapter 5: Damage Control

The door to the Dragon Lord's office was violently flung open, emitting a sharp crack that sounded like a gunshot. Riley jolted to a standstill. He had never encountered a door that made such a noise before.

Yet, this one did. Although, to be fair, it was possible his own terror was amplifying the sound.

You see, the discussions aimed at securing better working conditions hadn’t even commenced, but the space already felt too confined for two individuals to occupy simultaneously.

Riley remained rigidly seated at the small table, a parchment detailing his tear-stained ‘bare minimum’ requests laid out before him. Opposite him, his boss stood motionless, silent, and exuding an intimidating aura, characteristic of an ancient, profoundly irritated dragon.

And truly, when the situation devolved to this point, it became challenging to determine what was truly worse.

Was it the sheer absurdity of sitting there, negotiating for fundamental human rights, or the fact that the dragon’s immense fury wasn’t even directed at him personally, yet he was the unfortunate soul tasked with managing it?

Not that the ranking would alter his personal circumstances. However, it might have a significant impact on the employees within the Human Resources department.

Precisely like the present moment.

If he chose to remain silent, this dragon, whose golden eyes blazed as they swept over the pathetic list of demands, would likely incinerate the unfortunate HR personnel.

And, in a strange way, that would be the more merciful outcome. At least there were remedies for burns. Reconstructing oneself from mere dust, however, might present a far greater challenge.

The ambient temperature within the office escalated by several degrees. A subtle, heat-induced shimmer began to distort the air.

Riley could feel the collar of his shirt becoming clammy with sweat.

Then, without uttering a single word, Kael materialized a searing ribbon of dragonfire parchment from the ether, inscribing it with characters of flame.

The apprehensive aide leaned forward incrementally, a wave of panic already surging in his chest.

“My Lord—” he began, but just as he spoke, Kael snapped his fingers, dispatching the fiery missive in a blast of embers that scorched the wall behind it.

This was no mere office directive. It was a harbinger. A preliminary strike.

Riley’s eyes widened. His mind conjured vivid specters of his boss rampaging through HR, radiating terrifying, molten wrath, and laying waste to every hapless, innocent, or perhaps just bureaucratically inept elf within the department.

And so, with a choked gasp, the typically submissive employee made a sudden dash.

He sprinted towards the enchanted office door and positioned himself directly in front of it, arms outstretched in a posture of a remarkably fragile, exceedingly anxious barrier.

“My Lord! Wait!”

Kael halted his advance, his gaze descending upon Riley with a slow, menacing intensity.

“You are obstructing my path, Hale,” he declared, his voice resonating like crackling embers.

“I—I understand! But please listen!” Riley stammered, holding his ground resolutely. “You cannot simply… storm HR and immolate them!”

Kael raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

“Because!” Riley gestured wildly, searching for a coherent reason. “Because—well—because technically—it isn’t even their fault!”

Kael froze. “Excuse me?”

“My Lord, they likely wouldn’t know how to process me, given the apparent nature of my employment,” Riley blurted out impulsively.

“Furthermore, it took almost a full month before we could actually resume operations in the office. And approximately the same duration passed before I had the opportunity to visit the department.”

The temperature in the room decreased by a few degrees, yet paradoxically, it felt even more fraught with peril than before.

His molten gold eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

Riley’s breath hitched, and his arms—still barring the door—began to tremble slightly. Nevertheless, he compelled himself to continue speaking, even as his inner voice shrieked for him to cease talking before he was utterly vaporized.

“Sir… Do you recall? My initial day here?” Riley inquired weakly, shifting his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other.

That piercing gaze intensified.

“That was the day of the significant conference,” Riley continued with calculated care, “the one you insisted could not be missed… and how there was insufficient time to implement all the standard protocols.”

Kael’s head tilted almost imperceptibly.

“I believe,” Riley added, his voice softening to a near whisper, “that was the day I almost arrived dressed in my graduation toga.”

A moment of silence ensued.

And then another followed.

Riley hazarded a glance upward.

Kael was gazing at him, his expression unreadable.

Therefore, he pressed onward, offering silent prayers to every deity that had forsaken him on the very day he was coerced into accepting this position.

“You mentioned there wasn't time to wait for HR. And you were correct, naturally. It was a crucial event. It’s just… perhaps none of us anticipated it would conclude in a… fiasco that would require such an extended period to rectify.”

“But I am not attempting to place blame upon you, My Lord. Absolutely not. I am convinced it was primarily an accident.” He clarified, acutely aware that if his words were misinterpreted, he might as well forgo any thoughts of retirement and proceed directly to achieving freedom in the afterlife.

Riley’s utterance dissolved into the thick, heavy silence that permeated the room.

Kael’s golden eyes remained fixed upon him.

Riley, bless his delicate human soul, held his breath, fear freezing him in place. He remained a hesitant sentinel by the door, a strained smile his only defense for everyone else.

Just as he harbored a sliver of hope that he might have dodged immediate peril, Kael's voice cut through the air.

"Hale," he uttered, his tone both silken and deadly.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Step aside."

"...Sir?" Riley stammered, his voice cracking.

"Because," Kael continued, a delicate plume of smoke escaping his lips, "I am leaving. Or must I seek your leave to do so?"

It became clear that Riley's attempt to placate the volatile Dragon Lord had fallen short. He had presumed that a majestic being like Kael would always maintain an outward facade of perfection, never admitting to any flaws.

Fortunately, securing employment in such a formidable place often necessitated either a unique constitution, unparalleled skill, or a crushing mountain of debt.

Mina, it turned out, belonged to the first category.

Endowed with an exceptional instinct for self-preservation, the typically cheerful elf devised a plan for survival after their department received that highly charged missive—a letter likely penned with the tears of the innocent (or so she dramatically felt).

Acting on this premonition of doom, she decisively reached into her desk, retrieving a solitary piece of parchment. With practiced strokes, she inscribed her urgent message:

"Leave of absence."

Effective immediately.

She placed the notice with deliberate neatness upon her desk, adjusted her uniform, and then moved away.

The sole remnant of her presence was her customary comfort chocolate, placed with care at the very center of her chair.

Should anyone search for her...

Well.

They would simply have to make do with that.