The Crystal Spire's throne room was, for the first time, a place of quiet, organized bureaucracy.
A new day had dawned, and with it came the soul-crushing reality of managing a newly expanded, deeply chaotic empire.
I, Ragnar Vhagar, the Tyrant of Aethelburg and a being of profound, A-Rank power, was holding a corporate-style reorganization meeting.
It was every bit as tedious as it sounded.
"So, to summarize," I said, leaning over the massive, glowing crystal map table, "Yori, you are now my new Head of Defense and Trap Design.
Your primary duty is to turn our more vulnerable sectors into a series of deeply infuriating, hero-mulching deathtraps.
I want pitfalls filled with angry, venomous squirrels. I want hallways that play slightly off-key circus music. Get creative."
Old Man Yori, my newly acquired and surprisingly cunning subordinate, bowed his head.