The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

‘What? Appoint me as a minister?’

Not only Philip and his party but also the royal guards who were listening nearby were taken aback. Karl’s proposal was simply too shocking.

A ministerial position, and not just any minister but a high-ranking one, given to a young noble from the frontier? That was unheard of!

“Isn’t a ministerial position usually reserved for high-ranking nobles of at least an earl’s status? And the Minister of Public Works is responsible for overseeing construction and civil engineering projects.”

“They also supervise production facilities like mines and workshops across the kingdom, as well as the development of various equipment. It’s a highly coveted position since a lot of money flows through it.”

“Even if he is the famed Apostle of Eldir these days, this is still a bit…”

Jealous and envious gazes from the royal guards turned toward Philip.

Momentarily lost in thought, Philip quickly snapped back to reality.

‘Wait, don’t fall for it! This is a trap from the prince!’

No matter how sweet the position might seem, or how well it suited his interests, he couldn’t just grab it impulsively.

The moment he accepted, he would be shackled.

With that in mind, Philip calmly expressed his stance.

“Your Highness, why do you put me to the test? My loyalty to the royal family of Arteria remains unchanged.”

“I’m not testing you, nor do I doubt your loyalty. I simply wish for you to serve closer to me.”

“Since the founding of the kingdom, my family’s duty has been to maintain the stability of the frontier. There are many capable people in the capital, so I doubt my presence here is necessary.”

Despite Karl’s repeated attempts to recruit him, Philip politely but firmly declined.

Seeing Philip’s unwavering stance, the young prince sighed.

“Most people would jump at the chance to rise in the capital and live a glamorous life… You truly are peculiar.”

“It’s simply beyond my means.”

A so-called glamorous life in the capital? It was nothing more than drinking and dancing at social gatherings until late at night.

Aside from indulging in entertainment and luxury, there wasn’t much else to enjoy.

Rather than becoming a pawn of the king, enduring the stress of jealousy and competition, he would much rather spend his time in the quiet countryside, freely enjoying his hobbies.

Of course, to achieve that, he had to pacify and persuade his opponent.

“Your Highness, I will assist the royal family in my own way, from my own position.”

“What you do best, you say…”

“I am the Apostle of the God of Blacksmithing. I excel in working with metal.”

As he spoke, Philip signaled to Terry with his eyes.

Cautiously, Terry drew his sword and presented it forward.

“This is…!”

“A Damascus Steel Sword. I heard that it’s expensive and performs exceptionally well, making it a privilege reserved for royal guards.”

Not just Karl but also Count Markel and the royal guards widened their eyes as they examined Terry’s sword.

No one had expected a frontier knight to possess such a rare weapon.

“You mean to say that you made this yourself?”

“I know how to make it.”

To be precise, he knew the method for producing Damascus steel. He had studied it in-depth during his days as a Youtuber.

At the beginning of his reincarnation, he lacked any production facilities, so he had to rely on his Golden Hammer skill to craft it. But now, things were different.

His territory’s forge had been equipped with blast furnaces and rolling and forging machines powered by water and treadmills. The skills of blacksmiths like Hans had improved significantly, making it possible to outfit his knights with Damascus steel equipment.

He even planned to establish a specialized smithy for refining metal, so mass production wouldn’t be an issue.

“Imagine the Central Knights, no—the entire central army—being equipped with weapons and armor made from this steel. Wouldn’t that be a great asset to Your Highness?”

“…Indeed.”

“The weapons we produce will be sent to the royal family as a priority.”

Of course, they wouldn’t come for free.

Karl had no objections to paying a fair price for Philip’s weapons.

But he felt that merely engaging in a transactional relationship was insufficient.

‘He commands the loyalty of an Expert-rank knight, and he wields the mysterious power of Fire’s Wrath. I need to form a much deeper alliance with him.’

Karl had already been considering how to win Philip over.

‘Given his talents, wealth won’t entice him. He has rejected noble titles and official positions, so those won’t work either. In that case…’

A confident smile appeared on Karl’s lips as he became certain of what Philip truly desired.

“You didn’t come to the capital just for the late king’s funeral and my coronation, did you?”

Philip hesitated for a moment but then nodded.
“Yes, I do have some other business to attend to.”

“One of those matters involves recruiting talent, doesn’t it?” Karl’s words made Philip’s expression change.

It was as if he had been caught sneaking a cookie from the jar.

“How did you know?”

“Because I’ve heard that your territory is rapidly developing. You can’t handle everything alone, so it’s only natural that you’d need capable people.”

Any keen observer could deduce as much.

But Karl took it a step further, surprising Philip even more.

“Especially a skilled mage, I’d imagine.”

Philip chuckled in admiration. “You really do know everything, don’t you?”

“It was just a guess. The frontier rarely has proper mages, after all.”

Most noble houses of significant power not only nurtured knights but also trained or recruited mages due to their high utility.

Karl had reasoned that Philip would need one as well.

And in truth, the person Philip sought most was indeed a mage.

With a mage, he could craft higher-quality artifacts and weapons.

However, there were no mages in the Baron Brandel family’s domain—not because he hadn’t tried to recruit one, but because there simply weren’t any suitable candidates.

‘I’m not looking for a combat mage or a healer; I need someone skilled in artifact creation or deeply knowledgeable in alchemy and chemistry.’

But such talents were already working under the royal family or powerful lords, making recruitment difficult.

“I can introduce you to the kind of talent you’re looking for.”

“Truly?” Philip asked, his interest piqued.

“Of course. There are plenty of mages in the Royal Mage Tower. But whether you can actually recruit them depends entirely on your ability.”

Mages tended to be stubborn and eccentric.
Without such traits, they wouldn’t be able to reach great heights in the arcane arts.

Karl found the idea of watching Philip attempt to recruit one rather amusing.

“Even just an introduction is more than enough,” Philip replied gratefully.

“If you need any other skilled people, just let me know.”

Though Karl made the offer, Philip had no intention of relying too much on him.

If he accepted every gift offered, he would eventually be surrounded by people loyal to Karl.
And before he knew it, he’d be pushed in the same direction as them.

“Regardless, I look forward to working with you.”

“I will do my best to meet Your Highness’s expectations.”

With that, Philip wrapped up his conversation with Karl on a positive note.

Just as he was about to take his leave, a deep voice rang out from behind the prince.

“Your Highness, if you are finished with your conversation, may I step forward?”

“Do you have something to say to Baron Brandel as well, Commander?” Karl asked.

Count Markel, the commander of the Royal Guards, shook his head and pointed toward Terry.

“Not the baron. I wish to speak to that young knight.”

Markel then turned to Philip.

“I am Count Markel, Commander of the Royal Guards. Baron Brandel, may I borrow your knight for a moment?”

“Hm?”

“He seems quite skilled. I’d like to spar with him.”

Hearing this, Philip immediately recalled how Terry had effortlessly taken down several royal guards while protecting Karl at the Water Temple.

‘Could this be a veiled attempt at revenge for that incident…?’

As Philip hesitated, Terry’s voice came from behind him.

“Lord, please grant me permission!”

Turning around, Philip saw Terry’s eyes burning with eagerness and determination.

‘Well, of course. There’s no way he’d want to miss an opportunity to fight one of the top three swordsmen in the kingdom.’

Philip knew that Terry, at just 21 years old, was already on the verge of reaching High-level Aura Expert—a testament to his incredible swordsmanship talent.

However, he had been stuck at that stage for the past year.

‘According to Captain Carpenter, there’s no one in the territory strong enough to push him further.’

To truly grow, one needed to be thoroughly defeated by a stronger opponent, to get knocked down, to struggle for their life.

There was no one in Baron Brandel’s domain stronger than Terry, and the occasional monster subjugations mostly involved small to mid-sized creatures.

Moreover, with the emergence of firearms, knights had fewer opportunities for intense frontline combat.

But now, an Expert High-rank Swordmaster had offered him a sparring match!

As a knight, there was no way Terry wouldn’t be thrilled.

“Lord, please allow it! And while we’re at it, let me join in too…!”

Siria approached, requesting to be included as well.

Seeing their eager, fiery eyes, Philip eventually relented.

“Fine. Just don’t get hurt.”

“Thank you, my lord!”

“Hehe, don’t worry about me!”

The royal guards cleared space in the courtyard, creating an improvised sparring ground.

As Count Markel took his position, he tilted his head upon seeing Siria step forward with her dual blades.

“I don’t have business with you, young lady.”

“Heh! What’s the matter? Scared of losing to someone young enough to be your daughter?”

“Hah, cheeky one, aren’t you? Very well, I suppose I can entertain one challenger first. I’ll give you three free attacks—come at me with all you’ve got.”

Markel casually held his sword behind his back, not even assuming a proper stance.

The blatant underestimation made Siria’s blood boil.

Determined to go all out, she activated her Tattooed Warrior ability at full power.

Boom—!

With a forceful step, she shot toward Markel like a streak of lightning.

“She’s fast!”

The royal guards, unaware of Siria’s true abilities, widened their eyes as her dual blades sliced through Markel’s body.

“So, a Tattooed Warrior… Baron Brandel certainly has interesting subordinates.”

“Huh?!”

Siria’s expression stiffened.

She was sure her attack had landed—yet somehow, Markel was now standing behind her.

She spun around, swinging her swords again, but once more, she struck only empty air.

“You can’t rely solely on your eyes to track an opponent.”

“Then how about this?!”

Heat radiated from the tattoos on Siria’s arms, channeling into her blades as she unleashed her most powerful technique.

“Take this—Phoenix Dance!”

“A flashy, but wasteful use of power.”

Her strikes were intense and beautiful—but if they didn’t hit, they meant nothing.

After allowing the promised three attacks, Markel finally lifted his sword.

As the fiery, bird-like aura of Siria’s swords surged toward him, he swiftly thrust his weapon.

Clang! Crash!

“Huh?”

Her dual swords flew out of her hands, and for a brief moment, Siria just stood there, dumbfounded.

Then, Markel struck her on the forehead with the hilt of his sword.

“Ughh!”

“You rely too much on your tattoos. Your swordplay has too many openings. Train harder!”

Tears welled in Siria’s eyes from the splitting pain in her skull.

At Markel’s stern reprimand, she quickly retreated.

‘Damn, he’s terrifying!’

Neither Terry nor his father, Carpenter, had ever countered her ultimate technique so effortlessly.

“Be careful, darling. That old man’s no joke.”

“I know that already.”

As Terry stepped forward, he drew his sword, and Count Markel adjusted his stance to a middle guard position.

Even though there was no wind, it felt as though the air around them was shifting, making their clothes ripple ever so slightly.

‘This is the aura of an Expert High-rank swordsman…’

‘Hmph. Unlike the feisty brat earlier, this one’s different.’

The two warriors stood still, locked in a tense standoff.

And then, it was Terry who struck first.