The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

The deer was bigger than expected.
Moreover, the antlers on its head jutted out in a threatening manner—it looked like getting impaled by them would result in serious injury.

I need to take it down before the lord gets hurt.

Just as Terry was about to throw his spear—

Twang—!

Philip, who had somehow drawn his crossbow without anyone noticing, fired a bolt.

The deer, struck squarely in the forehead, let out a shriek and collapsed.

Lowering his spear, Terry looked at the lord with admiration.

“That was impressive, my lord. When did you practice?”

“Practice? There’s nothing to it. You just aim and pull the trigger.”

Philip answered nonchalantly, but Terry thought otherwise.

It was true that crossbows were easier to handle compared to bows.
However, hitting a vital spot on a fast-moving target was no simple feat.

Has he been practicing in secret?

He recalled hearing that a shooting range had recently been set up in the manor’s garden. That might be it.

At that moment, Philip glanced up at the sky and spoke.

“It looks like it’s lunchtime. Let’s eat.”

“Understood.”

Bwooo!

Shortly after, the soldiers halted their training and began preparing food, dismantling the game they had hunted and gathering wood to build a fire.

Perhaps because they were finally getting to feast on meat after a long time, the soldiers seemed to be in high spirits despite the grueling training.

Sizzle.
Crackle.

Philip sat down with Terry, grilling the deer he had caught.

Once he seasoned it with salt and pepper, the meat practically melted in his mouth, making him exclaim,

“Wow, this is really tender!”

“That’s the cut from the back, the most delicious part.”

Nearby, the deer carcass—now just a neck—stared at them resentfully. But Philip felt no sympathy whatsoever.

Having lived in the countryside, he knew all too well how much of a menace wild deer and roe deer could be.

You plant beans or red beans, and these shameless bastards will eat only the tastiest parts and leave the rest.

It wasn’t any different in this fantasy world.

To the farmers, rabbits, deer, and wild boars were just as troublesome as monsters.

Then again, they were also a good source of protein.

“Alright, now that we’re full, shall we head to the cave?”

When Philip called for Carpenter and announced that they would be visiting a nearby bat cave, the man was taken aback.

“My lord, why are you suddenly going there?”

“Because there’s something I need from there. I’ll just take Sir Terry and a few soldiers. You stay here and continue the training with the rest.”

Carpenter, realizing he wouldn’t be able to change the lord’s mind, growled at his son instead.

“If the lord so much as gets a scratch, you’re dead meat!”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’m an Expert.”

Terry, brimming with confidence, left for the cave with Philip.

Some time later, Philip arrived at the cave, which turned out to be larger and more spacious than expected.

“So, bats actually live here?”

“Yes, my lord. Look over there, the ceiling is covered in them.”

“I see.”

Philip glanced up briefly before shining his lantern on the ground, examining it closely.

The dirt-colored floor was covered in tiny, elongated pellets, resembling caterpillars, piled up here and there.

It looks exactly like what I saw in that survival YouTube video.

One of the fortress soldiers, who had been acting as a guide, made a disgusted face and spoke up.

“My lord, that’s bat dung.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s what I’m here for.”

“…Excuse me?”

Philip turned to the puzzled guide and soldiers and said,

“Well, don’t just stand there. Start collecting the bat dung and put it in sacks.”

“What? That filthy stuff? What are we even going to use it for…?”

The soldiers were about to voice their complaints when Philip’s next words made their eyes light up.

“I’ll pay one Dalant per sack.”

“Yes, sir! Leave it to us!”

One Dalant was equivalent to half a month’s wages for the soldiers.

As if they had never even thought of complaining, they scattered around the cave, eagerly scraping up bat dung.

Capitalism truly is the best, Philip thought with a smirk.

Just then, Mau appeared and asked,

“It’s also called Ya Myeong Sa (夜明砂/Night Bright Sand). It’s a precious herbal medicine said to brighten eyesight and reduce fever.”

Even dung can be used as medicine, you know. Want to try some?

While Mau recoiled in disgust, Philip noticed Terry inspecting different parts of the cave.

At first, he thought Terry was helping collect the bat dung, but that wasn’t the case.

“Sir Terry, what are you looking at?”

“My lord, I suggest we leave immediately.”

Terry, his face grave, held up a boar’s bone he had picked up from a corner of the cave.

The thick bone bore distinct bite marks.

It seemed this cave had an uninvited tenant.

“Judging by these bite marks, this is definitely—”

“KRRROOOOHHH!”

A vicious roar cut Terry off mid-sentence.

Philip turned his head toward the cave entrance—
and there stood a massive monster, blocking their only way out.

Thick, shaggy hair.
Protruding molars.
Gray, metal-like skin.

The moment he saw it, the word “Troll” immediately surfaced in Philip’s mind.

In the original owner’s memories, trolls were classified as high-tier monsters, alongside ogres.

We’re screwed.

“KRRROOOOHHH—!”

The troll’s ferocious roar echoed throughout the cave.

Philip felt his entire body freeze from the sheer intensity of it.

It wasn’t just him—the soldiers had all gone pale, fumbling to unsheathe their swords and spears in panic.

However, one man remained composed and reacted swiftly.

“My lord, fall back!”

Terry stepped in front of the charging troll.

His sword, shimmering with aura, met the troll’s descending stone axe, parrying the massive weapon.

Without missing a beat, he struck—
his blade slicing through the troll’s wrist.

Philip almost let out an impressed “Oh!”

But his awe turned into despair when he saw the blue, foamy blood bubbling up from the wound—
and the severed hand regenerating almost instantly.

Trolls were an absolute nightmare to deal with.

Most wounds healed immediately, and even if their limbs were severed, they would regrow over time.

The only way to kill them is to cut off their head or destroy the mana stone in their heart.

The problem was…

Trolls were absurdly tough and ridiculously strong.

A regular soldier’s sword couldn’t even pierce their skin.
Even knights struggled to deal any real damage.

Terry, at least, had aura, which gave him a fighting chance.

But even an Aura Expert would need to be at least mid-rank to handle a troll…

From what Philip remembered, there was an unspoken rule across the Laterran continent when dealing with monsters:

A troll hunt required either one mid-rank Aura Expert or three low-rank Aura Experts.

But Terry, a low-rank Expert, was holding his own against the troll alone.

Dodging its axe swings and kicks with lightning-fast reflexes, his movements were as swift as a flying tiger.

Wait… is he actually stronger than people think?

If Terry was already a mid-rank Expert at only 21 years old,
even the Royal Guard would fight over him.

“My lord, use this chance to escape!”

“Understood.”

Philip knew that staying would only get in the way.

He turned to run toward the cave entrance—

“KRAAAAGH!”

“Argh!”

Just as Philip had made it halfway to the cave exit, a soldier’s scream made him whip his head around.

Several soldiers who had been flanking the troll to divert its attention had collapsed, bleeding on the ground.

They had been struck by stones that the troll had kicked at them with brute force.

Even though Terry was holding his own, at this rate, the number of casualties would be significant.

“Damn troll bastard! Making me remember things I’d rather forget!”

Philip clenched his teeth.

During his military service, he had once been deployed to Africa on a peacekeeping mission.

The memories of that incident resurfaced, fueling his frustration.

His eyes flicked down to the glass bottle attached to his waist.

It contained strong distilled liquor, which he had brought not for drinking, but as a substitute for disinfectant.

Philip quickly poured Ya Myeong Sa into the alcohol and twisted a handkerchief into a makeshift wick, sticking it into the bottle’s mouth.

Then, he flicked open his Zippo lighter, igniting the cloth.

Fwoosh!

The flames flickered ominously.

Philip turned to Terry and shouted—

“Sir Terry, fall back!”

Then, he hurled the Molotov cocktail straight at the troll’s face.

CRASH—FWOOSH!

“KUEEEEAAAK—!”

Flames engulfed the troll’s head, and it howled in agony, stumbling backward in panic.

It wasn’t enough to kill the beast, but the sudden pain left it vulnerable.

Terry seized the opportunity—

With his sword glowing brilliantly with aura, he darted forward like lightning.

SWOOSH—SLASH!

A chilling slicing sound echoed through the cave.

The troll’s head hit the ground with a dull thud.

Its body wobbled for a moment before collapsing like a felled tree.

“Whoa, we got it!”

“We’re alive! We survived!”

The soldiers, who had risked their lives to keep the troll at bay, cheered and hugged each other in relief.

Meanwhile, Philip approached Terry.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you, my lord.”

This had been Terry’s first time fighting a troll alone.

Although he was confident in his skills, the troll had cleverly guarded its weak spots, making it difficult to land a decisive blow.

But thanks to Philip’s distraction, its vital points had been exposed—
allowing Terry to land the final strike.

“But my lord… what was that thing you just used?”

“Oh, that? A Molotov cocktail.”

“A… Molotov cocktail?”

“It’s a firebomb that takes advantage of strong alcohol’s flammability.”

Philip casually explained, then narrowed his eyes.

“By the way, Sir Terry… are you actually a mid-rank Expert?”

“…Eh?”

Terry’s face stiffened for a brief moment, as if caught off guard.

“If it’s a secret, I won’t pry,” Philip smirked. “Anyway, we need to gather the wounded and leave quickly. Trolls often live in pairs.”

Philip retrieved the troll’s mana stone and the Ya Myeong Sa the soldiers had collected.

Then, they hurried back to the main unit.

As they were returning, Philip and his group ran into Carpenter, who was leading a group of soldiers toward them.

“We finished training early and were on our way to meet you. But what in the world happened?”

Carpenter’s face paled when he saw the injured soldiers.

“A troll suddenly appeared in the bat cave. So we…”

After hearing the explanation, Carpenter immediately turned to Terry—

—and smacked him upside the head.

“You little brat! You were supposed to do a thorough reconnaissance first! Just wait till we get back!”

Carpenter’s fierce scowl left no room for argument.

After sending Philip’s group back to the fortress, he led a squad of soldiers back to the cave.

They were there not just to recover the troll’s corpse—though its blood, bones, and tendons were valuable materials used in high-grade potions.

More importantly, Carpenter had another mission.

“There could be more trolls nearby. We need to eliminate them immediately to prevent any harm to the villagers. Search every inch of the area!”

“Yes, sir!”

With that, the knights and soldiers tensed up, gripping their weapons as they began scouring the bat cave and its surroundings.