Knock, knock, knock!
The dull, rhythmic knocking interrupted the fat witch's rambling complaints—though Colmar had been listening with great interest—but as the person in charge of the reception room, the fat witch still possessed the most basic professional standards.
She stuffed the stamped application form into Colmar's hand.
"Take this to the Enforcement Team office on the third floor. The gentlemen sitting behind their desks drinking tea will make the final decision on whether to assign an enforcement squad, and how many," the fat witch said. Then she shook her head and rolled her eyes upward.
"Merlin above, I think I could do that job perfectly well myself... Well, for a mission like yours, dealing with an incarnation of the Mother of the Black Goat of the Woods, you need at least five fully staffed enforcement squads—no fewer than twenty-five elite Registered Wizards."
"I truly hope you gain the authority to make those assignments," Colmar said sympathetically. She had heard how maddening those old wizards of Danhaag could be—rumor had it that every move they made had to comply with the Wizard Codex. Even a simple incident involving spotted mangy grass contamination would have to go through seventeen or eighteen tedious procedures if it landed in their hands.
As they spoke, the two had already reached the door.
With a whoosh, the door swung open. Outside stood a wizard wrapped in a dark crimson cloak, her face hidden beneath a hood. Judging by her graceful figure, Colmar concluded that she was also a witch.
Moreover, this witch's aura felt somewhat familiar.
"Colmar?... Good morning." The witch at the door lifted her hood, revealing a face brimming with charm. She seemed rather surprised. "What are you doing here?"
Like this witch, the Sage of the North District was equally astonished, though