The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

“Not bad at all.”

Philip inspected the flintlock pistol in his hand, satisfied.

Last night, using his Golden Hammer skill, he had crafted it for use in mounted combat and close engagements.

Though its accuracy was inferior to that of a musket rifle, its firepower was just as formidable.

“Once we have the resources to mass-produce muskets, I should ask them to make these as well.”

Philip smirked at the thought of Hans and the other blacksmiths protesting vehemently.

Shaking the thought away, he turned toward the lined-up musketeers and issued a command.

“Prepare to fire! … Fire!”

Tatata-tatang!

The moment his order fell, dozens of musket barrels erupted with flames and white smoke.

The deafening roar split the air.

Armand’s eyes widened as he watched the chaos unfold.

He had seen many battles, but this—this was something else entirely.

Bullets tore through the breastplates set up 100 paces away, punching through them like they were nothing.

The insignia on the shattered armor pieces confirmed it—they belonged to the knights of Mirabeau.

These weren’t just any armor; they were made from carefully selected high-grade steel.

And yet, they had been mercilessly shredded.

“What in the world is that?!”

Even a crossbow wouldn’t be able to pierce thick steel breastplates from 100 paces away.

His first thought was that it might be an artifact—but he felt no trace of magical energy from the weapons.

“Then what the hell are those things?!”

As Armand instinctively tensed, a second and third volley followed.

The looted Mirabeau armor was now nothing but tattered scrap metal, utterly ruined.

As his face paled and he swallowed dryly, Philip casually approached him, greeting him with polite courtesy.

Though his attitude was far more respectful than the day before, Armand found it even more unnerving.

“Welcome, Viscount. I trust your accommodations have been… acceptable?”

“Uh… well, I suppose.”

But rather than exchanging pleasantries, Armand immediately pointed at the weapons.

“What… what are those?”

His impatience was obvious. He had been dying to ask.

Philip smirked.

“Ah, these? Sacred weapons, granted by Eldir.”

“Sacred weapons? You mean like the legendary arms in myths?”

“Not quite legendary swords or armor, but since they were made using methods revealed by Eldir, I’d say they qualify.”

The destructive power was undeniable.

The penetration and range far surpassed that of crossbows, and the thunderous roar upon firing was enough to terrify anyone who had never seen such a thing before.

“So this is how they managed to wipe out the Lizardmen in the Prill Mountains and kill the Necromancer…”

Armand was now certain that the weapon had been responsible for his army’s defeat during the night raid.

Meanwhile, Philip observed his ashen-faced expression and smirked internally.

“He actually believes they’re divine weapons. How amusing.”

It was only natural—without any knowledge of gunpowder, seeing thick steel armor get shredded before one’s eyes would make anyone believe it was divine intervention.

On the other hand, Armand felt completely cornered.

“Damn it… I was planning to negotiate while minimizing compensation, but…”

First, Philip had sent an intruder to provoke him.

Now, he had demonstrated overwhelming firepower right before his eyes.

It was clear—this young blacksmith was no ordinary opponent.

Then, with an intriguing glint in his eyes, Philip spoke again.

“I hear you wished to negotiate with me?”

Armand stiffened before hurriedly responding,

“W-Well, after some reflection… I realized that waging a territorial war over some flood damage was rather… unbecoming for a knight.”

“Oh? So, does that mean you accept the conditions I proposed earlier?”

Philip had three main demands:

Monetary compensation.
Demilitarization of Mirabeau’s forces.
Ceding of some territory.

“I accept the first and second conditions. However, the third… Handing over five villages is far too excessive.”

“Excessive? Hah! You, who tried to take an entire domain for yourself, are calling this excessive?”

Philip deliberately spun his flintlock pistol between his fingers.

Though he had already fired it, Armand had no concept of reloading—which meant, in his mind, Philip could shoot him at any moment.

“…Do you really think I intended to take over your entire territory? And besides, with the blessing of Eldir, do you truly need to be so greedy? You risk tainting the sacred name of Eldir with your insatiable ambition.”

His choice of words suggested that Armand was no mere brute, but a ruler who also wielded political maneuvering.

However, Philip had no intention of dragging out these negotiations.

“I was granted Eldir’s divine weapon to spread his name far and wide. If you refuse these terms, I will have no choice but to seek greater compensation.”

The implication was clear.

If Armand did not agree, Philip would march his army in and take the entire Viscounty of Mirabeau.

Faced with this blatant threat, Armand finally relented and accepted all of Philip’s demands.

“The villages you will cede to us are Dibo, Abijan, Hovel, Karpas, and Solein.”

“…Three pasture villages and two fishing villages near Lake Valhas, then.”

Armand, examining the map, felt a small wave of relief.

Losing the three sheep-farming villages was a serious blow, but at least it wasn’t all five villages.

As for the two fishing villages—though they were located near a lake, which might seem prosperous at first glance, they were actually worthless.

“After all… Lake Valhas is a salt lake.”

According to legend, Lake Valhas was once part of the sea.

However, when Iora, the Goddess of the Sea, lost a wager against Gaia, the Goddess of the Earth, she was stripped of the lake as punishment.

Unable to accept defeat, Iora threw a tantrum, and as a result, Lake Valhas became filled with saltwater.

“In other words, it’s completely useless for farming or livestock. And since it’s landlocked—not connected to the sea or any major river—it’s also worthless for trade.”

The people who lived there barely survived by fishing and harvesting salt, scraping together a meager existence.

“Why would he take these lands instead of better villages? Is he deliberately avoiding deepening our grudge?”

That didn’t fit with everything else Philip had done so far—it didn’t make sense.

Regardless, Armand hurriedly signed the agreement, afraid Philip might change his mind.

“It’s settled, then. Don’t try to go back on your word, Baron.”

“I should say the same to you, Viscount.”

With their seals and signatures affixed to the peace treaty, the two lords shook hands briefly before parting ways.

As Armand left, feeling relieved that the worst had been avoided, Philip smirked subtly.

“Handing it over so easily? He’s dumber than I thought.”

Soon enough, he would regret it.

Philip had already devised a plan to fully exploit his newly acquired lands.

Just as he was considering his next steps, a notification window suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[You have emerged victorious in a territorial war against a follower of Valiant, God of War.]

[Eldir rejoices at having delivered a blow to that obnoxious thug god. You have gained 3,000 points.]

“Huh? I can earn points from this too?”

Previously, he had only received points for completing missions or expanding the forge.

Had Valian somehow orchestrated this territorial war?

Regardless, free points were always welcome.

*****

Though Philip had decided to wage a territorial war, some of his vassals—particularly Treasurer Buchini—had been secretly worried.

Even with the recent introduction of musketeers, Mirabeau’s forces were still superior.

However, a single battle at Angel Village had resulted in Mirabeau’s surrender and the end of the war.

It was so unexpected that the vassals were still in shock.

“Our lord… truly had a plan all along.”

“Heh, first he pays off our debts, then he hunts Lizardmen, and now he defeats Mirabeau? It’s as if our lord has become a completely different person.”

“Haha, well, it’s no wonder the gods chose him as an Apostle.”

The vassals, who had been praising their lord’s victory, soon fell into confusion as they reviewed the peace treaty.

“We received five villages as spoils of war… but two of them are near Lake Valhas?”

“There were better villages to choose from—why did our lord specifically want those?”

“Maybe he wanted to secure a local salt supply?”

“But producing salt isn’t cheap, and we’ll also have to support the poor fishing villagers…”

The newly annexed villages became a topic of debate among the retainers.

Some believed the choice was reasonable, while others lamented the lost opportunity to demand better land.

Carpenter belonged to the latter group.

Having witnessed the negotiations firsthand, he wasted no time questioning Philip as soon as they returned to Brandel Castle.

“My lord, why did you settle for just five villages? You could have seized the entire Viscounty of Mirabeau.”

At that, Philip put down his quill and let out a short sigh.

“Phew… I have no interest in making things bigger than necessary.”

“You don’t want to escalate things…? Ah! Now I see!”

As a knight commander, Carpenter was no fool when it came to politics.

If they had conquered all of Mirabeau, the nobility of the kingdom would have taken notice.

The tallest tree catches the most wind.

The great lords of the western territories would immediately move to suppress Brandel before it could grow too powerful.

“Even if we combine both territories, we’re still too weak. We don’t even have trustworthy allies yet.”

Yes, firearms gave them a huge advantage—but with only 100 musketeers, they couldn’t stand against the full military might of a great noble house.

And war wasn’t just about weapons and soldiers.

It required political maneuvering, economic power, and alliances.

Neglecting those aspects would doom the domain to ruin.

“My lord is right. There’s no need to rush and provoke external forces.”

One must build their foundation before expanding.

Even the most powerful noble houses didn’t rise overnight—they grew step by step.

Carpenter thought this was Philip’s reasoning.

But in reality, Philip’s true thoughts were quite different.

“Why didn’t I conquer everything? Because that would mean a massive increase in paperwork. And that means less time for fun!”

He already had a mountain of documents to deal with—if his territory doubled in size, he would be buried in paperwork all year long.

However, completely misinterpreting his lord’s intentions, Carpenter bowed deeply in apology.

“I failed to fully grasp your wisdom, my lord.”

Then, he asked one more pressing question.

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand. If you were going to take five villages, why not demand only pastures or mining villages? Why include two poor fishing villages?”

“Oh, that?” Philip grinned.

“I want to build ships.”

“…Ships? But we don’t even have access to the sea.”

Lake Valhas wasn’t connected to the southern ocean by any river—building ships there would be useless.

“True. But we can still build and test them.”

Philip had seen trade ships during his visit to Campania.

Back on Earth, during his time as Kang Hyunsoo, he had been obsessed with Age of Exploration-era games.

He had even studied sailing ships and built numerous scale models.

So when he saw actual sailing ships, even if they weren’t as advanced as Earth’s, he couldn’t help but feel excited.

“Who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll take control of a port city like Campania.”