Azrael_Nightshade

Alistair Ashencrest was once an overworked government official in America—until he woke up in a fantasy empire as the Leader of the Imperial Council of Ministers. Now, he’s stuck managing an empire where corrupt nobles, power-hungry schemers, and war-hungry generals constantly test his patience.

The Emperor relies on him. The nobles fear him. The commoners spread ridiculous rumors about his supposed tyranny. And worst of all? He still has to deal with paperwork.

Between surviving noble schemes, balancing the empire’s politics, and avoiding troublesome romance rumors, Alistair just wants to do his job efficiently.

But with four powerful women trying to entangle him in politics and romance, a paranoid Emperor, and multiple coup attempts every year, his life is anything but peaceful.

"I saved the empire. Why am I still working overtime?"

I Became the Empire’s Overworked Minister

Alistair Ashencrest had not slept in three days.

The towering stacks of documents on his desk weren't decreasing, no matter how many he signed, rejected, or outright threw into the fire. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as the scent of ink and candle wax filled his office. The grand chandeliers above flickered, casting shadows over the marble walls adorned with golden Imperial crests.

"Sir, you haven't eaten since yesterday," said Cedric, his ever-loyal aide.

"You drank black coffee and chewed on a quill," Cedric deadpanned.

Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly suppressing the urge to argue. "At least take a break, sir. The nobles are—"

"—Idiots, incompetent, and a waste of Imperial resources?" Alistair finished. He picked up a new document and skimmed it. "Case in point: Count Rotherham is requesting additional funding for a canal project that doesn't exist."

Cedric sighed. "What shall I tell him?"

Alistair dipped his quill in ink and, in bold letters, wrote: 'Rejected. If you try this again, I will personally see to your financial ruin.' He slid the document forward.

Cedric took the paper without a word.

Before Alistair could take a sip of what was probably his tenth coffee, the massive doors to his office burst open. A trembling noble in flamboyant attire stumbled in, flanked by two guards.

"M-My Lord Ashencrest! T-this is outrageous! The council is too harsh on us!" The noble, Viscount Elber, stammered.

Alistair slowly looked up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto the trembling man. His ash-silver hair reflected the candlelight, giving him an almost ethereal presence.

Elber visibly gulped. "T-The recent tax audits—"

"Ah, yes," Alistair interrupted. "The ones that revealed you were embezzling from public funds?"

Alistair placed down his quill and leaned forward. "Tell me, Viscount. What part of 'embezzling' do you think should be overlooked? The part where you stole, the part where you got caught, or the part where you came whining to me instead of preparing your defense?"

"Guards," Alistair said, already returning to his work. "Take him to the Royal Audit Office. If he resists, consider him guilty."

The guards immediately grabbed Elber, who screeched like a dying animal as they dragged him away.

Cedric cleared his throat. "Another one handled efficiently, sir."

Alistair sighed. "And yet, the pile remains." He glanced at his workload with the same dead expression as a soldier going to war. "Cedric, remind me. At what point does my authority allow me to execute nobles on sight?"

At that moment, a messenger rushed in, panting. "Sir! Urgent summons from the Emperor!"

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too early for this.

"Fine," he muttered, rising from his chair. "Let's see how much more of my sanity I'll lose today."

And so, the overworked leader of the Imperial Council dragged himself into yet another battle… against sheer incompetence.

Chapter 1: The Living Hell of a Government Worker