The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

“They say there wasn’t any real reason to overturn the decision.”

The territorial war had ended quickly, and Philip had spared Armand, his captured opponent.

Furthermore, the compensation he demanded wasn’t excessive, and Armand had willingly accepted the terms.

Thus, regardless of what others said, King Lothar III swiftly approved the results.

There was no secret hot spring connection influencing the king, as Count Auguste had feared.

‘Tch, so he just approved it because he didn’t want the hassle.’

King Lothar III of Arteria Kingdom was nearly 80 years old.

A decade ago, he had been wary of the growing power of regional lords, but recently, his attitude had shifted.

‘He’s nearing the end of his life, and he doesn’t want the crown prince’s position to become unstable.’

Though the king had lived long, his children had not.

Some had died of illness, while others had perished on the battlefield.

As a result, his grandson Karl, the designated heir, was still not even 15 years old.

To make matters worse, a foreign princess and her husband were eyeing the throne, while the suppressed great nobles were beginning to raise their voices once again.

Given the situation, the king wanted to pass the crown to Karl as smoothly as possible.

“The decision has already been made, my lord. Since we were not part of the war, we have no grounds to object.”

“You think I don’t know that? The issue is that we need to cut that blacksmith brat down to size somehow.”

That damned Armand.

Despite having served in the central army, he lost to a young upstart who probably couldn’t even swing a sword properly!

As Auguste searched for a way to deal with Philip, one of his knights spoke up.

“My lord, do we really need to suppress Baron Brandel?”

“What are you getting at, Captain?”

Auguste frowned, but the Knight Captain calmly laid out his thoughts.

“Baron Brandel is still unmarried. And as it happens, your fifth daughter is also unmarried and has no betrothal agreements.”

“So, you’re suggesting that I marry off my youngest daughter to that blacksmith brat?”

Auguste’s face immediately twisted in disgust.

His adorable youngest daughter—so precious that even looking at her didn’t just bring joy, but made him want to dance.

His plan was to raise her well and marry her off to a prestigious noble in the royal capital.

And now this knight was suggesting she be handed over to some lowly apostle of the Blacksmith God, who wasn’t even a true noble?

Ridiculous!

Sensing Auguste’s displeasure, the Knight Captain spoke carefully, trying to persuade him.

“I understand your reservations, my lord. However, Baron Brandel is unlike previous Apostles of the Blacksmith God. There are even rumors that he has acquired the power of fire itself.”

“The power of fire?”

“The devastating explosive weapons he used to defeat the necromancers and the Mirabeau forces—his people refer to them as ‘Volcanic Wrath.’ If that power were to fall into Marquis Marteze’s hands, what do you think would happen?”

“That would be…”

Marquis Marteze, the most powerful noble in the western region, was Auguste’s greatest rival.

One day, Auguste dreamed of surpassing him and becoming the true power of the west.

But if that damn blacksmith baron were to align with Marteze?

The power gap between them might become insurmountable.

“If we tie him to our family by blood, my lord, then you, too, can benefit from the power he possesses.”

“Hmm… That does make sense.”

“Baron Brandel is intelligent. If he has any sense, he won’t reject the offer.”

After thinking it over, Auguste made his decision.

“Very well. Proceed with the engagement.”

******

“So, you’re saying your lord is proposing a marriage alliance?”

Philip stared at the envoy from the County of Palamos, utterly bewildered.

It had only been a short while since Jude had advised him to forge ties with powerful noble families.

And now, by pure coincidence, a marriage proposal had landed on his desk.

But first, there was something he needed to confirm.

“From what I know, all of Count Palamos’ daughters are already married.”

“That is incorrect, my lord. The youngest daughter is still unmarried.”

‘Ah, right…’

Hearing the envoy’s response, Philip scratched the back of his head.

As someone who frequently visited Silon Village to enjoy the hot springs and socialize with traveling nobles, he had actually met both Countess Palamos and the youngest daughter in question before.

And he remembered her well.

‘She was insufferable.’

Perhaps because she relied on her father’s power, the youngest daughter of Count Palamos was haughty, rude, and utterly spoiled.

Despite Philip technically being a noble, she had looked down on him completely—likely because his title was still lower than hers.

But even her terrible personality wasn’t the worst issue.

There was something far more problematic about her.

“There’s quite an age gap between me and the young lady, isn’t there?” Philip asked.

The envoy laughed it off.

“Haha, what’s a mere eight-year difference?”

He acted as though it was nothing, but to Philip, it was everything.

‘She’s twelve, you son of a—!’

This world, Laterran, was a pre-modern society.

Arranged marriages and child marriages were common, but Philip’s soul belonged to Kang Hyunsoo, a modern man from Earth.

And in his moral code, marrying a twelve-year-old girl was a literal crime—one that deserved immediate jail time.

“I regret to inform you that I have no intention of accepting the Count’s proposal,” Philip declared.

The envoy’s face stiffened.

He had assumed that Philip couldn’t refuse—that he would welcome the offer with open arms.

‘Could it be that another noble house has already proposed a marriage alliance?’

He suddenly recalled rumors that Countess Adrienne, the sister of Viscount Montsena, had been frequenting Brandel’s territory lately.

If Viscount Montsena and Baron Brandel joined forces, it could create a serious problem.

Montsena had long harbored grievances against Count Palamos.

‘I can’t allow that to happen.’

Realizing the potential risk, the envoy immediately began persuading Philip.

“Baron, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. Why reject a precious gem so foolishly?”

Philip scoffed.

“That gem is of no use to me. Now, please see yourself out.”

With that, he firmly dismissed the envoy.

Seething, the envoy turned and left.

As soon as he was gone, Philip’s vassals burst into praise.

“You handled that perfectly, my lord!”

“Had we accepted, those Palamos bastards would have become even more arrogant!”

“They need to learn that our territory is no longer beneath them!”

In the past, Brandel might have needed such an alliance.

But now, they had no reason to bow to Count Palamos.

Furthermore, many of Philip’s vassals already disliked the Palamos nobility.

From the Count himself to his underlings, they all acted like Western nobility elites, constantly looking down on lesser lords.

Even the envoy had dared to speak rudely to Philip.

“The proposal itself wasn’t bad, but we must be careful not to provoke Marquis Marteze.”

“Regardless, we must never show any desperation!”

Philip, however, was thinking something entirely different.

‘I’m not marrying a freaking twelve-year-old, no matter what.’

No matter how pragmatic his vassals were, Philip had already made up his mind—he would never accept Palamos’ marriage proposal.

******

“WHAT?!”

“A lowly nobody dares to refuse?!”

“That backwater baron had the audacity to reject Count Palamos’ proposal?!”

When the envoy returned with the news, the nobles of Palamos County erupted in fury.

A rural upstart, and worse, a lowly Apostle of the Blacksmith God, had spurned their lord’s generosity?!

“That arrogant wretch must have gotten too full of himself after gaining some minor fame!”

“Lord, we should mobilize the army and punish that insolent blacksmith!”

While his vassals raged, Count Auguste remained surprisingly calm.

“Starting a territorial war just because he refused a marriage proposal would be too flimsy a pretext.”

Moreover, Brandel’s territory wasn’t directly connected to Palamos.

The lands in between would never allow his army to march through unchecked.

“Then are we simply going to tolerate this insult?!”

“My lord, we cannot let this stand!”

The heated discussions among Count Palamos’ vassals quickly died down when they saw their lord’s icy glare.

They immediately lowered their heads, realizing that their lord had no intention of letting this insult slide.

As silence filled the room, Auguste revealed his plan.

“Military retaliation is not the only answer. Instead, we will weaken Brandel’s power from within.”

“Weaken it? How so, my lord?”

“As you all know, we already have spies in Baron Brandel’s domain.”

Being the wealthiest trading noble in the western region, Auguste had long since planted merchants-turned-spies across various territories.

“We will use them to steal his secret techniques and make them our own.”

If they succeeded, Brandel’s territory would suffer a severe blow, while Palamos’ wealth and power would grow even stronger.

‘Our house began as a merchant family, and while we have wealth, our military strength is still lacking.’

Thus, Auguste decided that he would cripple Brandel in a way that was indirect yet devastating.

“Relay my orders to the spies. Do whatever it takes to steal the secrets behind that blacksmith brat’s ‘Volcanic Wrath.’”

If he could acquire the power of fire, he would finally surpass Marquis Marteze and dominate the west entirely.

A cold smile crept onto Auguste’s lips, his mind buzzing with anticipation.

******

While Count Palamos schemed in the shadows, Philip was on his way to Silon Village, accompanied by his retinue.

He planned to enjoy the hot springs while also tending to some business.

As they rode, Philip grinned mischievously and turned to one of his knights.

“Terry, how’s it going with Siria?”

Terry let out an exasperated sigh.

“My lord, even you’re teasing me now?”

Lately, his fellow knights—and even his father—had been relentlessly questioning him about it.

Terry looked at Philip with a deeply resentful expression.

“Honestly… this is too much.”

“What do you mean? She’s beautiful, and she’s probably the best sparring partner you could ask for.”

In Brandel, only two people could be considered true experts.

Carpenter was too busy with administrative duties, and the regular knights simply weren’t skilled enough to challenge Terry properly.

As a mid-tier Tattooed Warrior, Siria was the perfect sparring partner.

“Of course, I’m grateful for that. If she were just a comrade-in-arms, I’d have no complaints. But she keeps clinging to me, insisting we get married!”

Siria constantly pestered him—sparring requests, date invitations—the works.

That was annoying enough.

But a few nights ago, she had almost caused an incident of epic proportions.

She had snuck into his room at night and boldly declared she wanted to share his bed.

“You know what she said?” Terry groaned.

“She said she wanted to have my child.”

“Pfft—! Hahaha!” Philip burst out laughing.

“Siria’s something else, huh?”

“THIS IS NOT FUNNY!”

But Terry’s troubles didn’t end there.

Lately, even the usually reserved Helen had been showing interest.

She had brought him snacks, cleaned his quarters, and generally taken care of him in subtle ways.

And just a few days ago, she had outright argued with Siria—right in front of him.

“I never expected Secretary Helen to get involved… My head is about to explode.”

Philip chuckled.

“You should be grateful, Terry. You’re being pursued by two of the territory’s most beautiful women!”

Terry, clearly frustrated, fired back.

“And what about you, my lord? Why did you reject the proposal from Count Palamos?”

“Hey! That’s—”

Philip started to retort, but then stopped himself.

‘How the hell do I explain to this medieval-minded guy that marrying a 12-year-old is a literal crime?’

He let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

At that moment, the entrance to Silon Village came into view.

Standing there were several individuals, dressed far too finely for common travelers.

Philip cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject.

“Ahem. Looks like some distinguished guests have come to greet us.”

Spurring his horse forward, Philip approached the group waiting for him at the village gates.