The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

Royal Mage Tower, Building Six.

One side of the elegant four-story building’s roof had collapsed in a terrible wreck.

The thick black smoke that had been billowing up had mostly settled, thanks to the water magic cast by the mages.

“Phel! Myron Phel! Where are you, you scoundrel!”

As the furious Mage Lord roared, the mages who had been dispatched to extinguish the fire all turned their eyes toward one spot.

There stood a middle-aged mage with disheveled silver hair and a pale complexion.

This was Myron Phel, the troublemaker of the Royal Mage Tower.

“Ahem, Master—no, Mage Lord. This time, I was so close to success, but then the artifact suddenly went berserk…”

“Silence! I don’t want to hear your excuses! Just how many times must you—”

While the Mage Lord was scolding Phel mercilessly, Philip turned to his guide—no, to the apprentice mage Lloyd—and asked:

“What kind of mage is Myron Phel?”

“Dr. Phel? He’s the official troublemaker of the Royal Mage Tower.”

Clicking his tongue like the others, Lloyd began to explain in detail.

“He’s fifty-two years old this year. Created his first magic circle at age seven and received his doctorate from the Laterranian Continental Magic Association at sixteen. He was once a famous artifact master.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Yes, he was an impressive mage.”

Perhaps because he gained fame too early, Dr. Phel had started pursuing increasingly eccentric projects after reaching the 5th Circle.

“He once ground up priceless gemstones just to study their molecular composition. He squandered research funds making useless inventions….”

“And now he’s blowing up buildings?”

“Yes. This is the seventh time this year.”

As his magical growth stagnated, he gathered like-minded oddballs and continuously caused trouble, to the point that the entire Royal Mage Tower saw him as a nuisance.

Even calling him “Dr. Phel” wasn’t a title of respect—it carried undertones of ridicule and contempt.

Many mages scoffed at how someone who had once earned a doctorate as a boy had ended up like this.

“Recently, he’s been ranting about how, by harnessing lightning magic, he could illuminate the dark and extract new metals from ores. What nonsense!”

“…Wait. He wants to use lightning to create light and refine metals?”

“Yes! Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

Even the apprentice mage sneered at Dr. Phel.

But Philip couldn’t laugh at what he had just heard.

Because it sounded a lot like electric lights and electrolytic metal refining.

‘Wait a minute. This guy might actually be useful.’

No—not just useful. He was exactly the kind of mage Philip needed.

Unlike futile alchemical experiments, he was researching something truly practical.

Mau tried to dissuade him, but Philip was already hooked.

‘If I support him properly, he could make not just electric lights, but maybe even fans, refrigerators, or air conditioners…’

A scene unfolded in his mind—this eccentric genius mage replicating modern Earth’s electrical appliances with magic.

With that thought, Philip’s feet naturally carried him toward the troublemaker of the Royal Mage Tower.

“I can’t let this slide anymore! As of today, you and your disciples are expelled from the Royal Mage Tower!”

“Master! Please, just one more—no, give me one more year! I swear I will make a revolutionary invention that will change the magic world—”

“Shut up! Do you think I don’t know that your so-called ‘revolutionary inventions’ are just a way to scam the people who come here for artifact repairs?”

“T-that’s only because I was short on research funds…! Master, from now on, I’ll listen to you properly and even do artifact repairs diligently! Just please, don’t expel me…”

“Shut it and pack your things!”

Seeing the Mage Lord’s fiery rage, Dr. Phel turned pale and began groveling.

At that moment, a lifeline was thrown his way.

“Isn’t expulsion a bit too harsh? It’s not like he was researching black magic or anything.”

“Baron, don’t interfere in the affairs of the Mage Tower.”

Mage Lord Glan shot back sharply, but Philip didn’t back down.

“I’m not trying to interfere. He deserves punishment, but there’s no need to go overboard.”

“…What are you suggesting?”

“Exile him to the frontier instead.”

“You want to take him?”

Mage Lord Glan wasn’t dense—he understood exactly what Philip meant.

Moreover, hadn’t Prince Karl specifically ordered him to support this young baron in acquiring talented mages?

‘Originally, I left Phel out because I couldn’t just hand over a disaster like him to a noble the prince is watching closely… But if he wants him…’

This could be a golden opportunity to rid the Mage Tower of its biggest troublemaker.

“Exile, you say. That does seem like the best course of action.”

“M-Master, you’re not seriously sending me away, are you?”

Dr. Phel’s face crumpled in despair—he clearly had no desire to go to the frontier.

But he had no other options.

“Would you rather be expelled? You wouldn’t even be recognized as a mage anymore.”

Expulsion from the Royal Mage Tower meant being stripped of all mage credentials.

He wouldn’t even be acknowledged as a free mage after that.

“…If you truly don’t want to go, then there’s nothing more to discuss.”

“N-No, I’ll go! If Master orders it, I have to follow…”

Just like that, the rebellious Dr. Phel immediately surrendered under the sheer authority of the Mage Lord.

Slumping his shoulders in resignation, he was now Philip’s responsibility.

*****

“We’re going to the western frontier?”

“Master… Are we getting exiled too?”

“Ugh… I knew this day would come eventually…”

Dr. Phel had three young disciples: Cain, Cassellan, and Lily.

Two men and one woman, all of them sighed deeply as they packed their belongings.

Meanwhile, Philip inspected the half-burnt and shattered research lab, then approached Dr. Phel, who was gloomily collecting the remains of his destroyed artifacts.

“What exactly caused the explosion earlier?”

“…Why do you care? And who even are you? You look like some noble, but—”

As a high-ranking mage, Dr. Phel was treated like nobility despite not holding a title himself, so his attitude was less than respectful.

In response, Philip formally introduced himself.

“I am Philip de Brandel, the Baron of Brandel, the land where you will be residing.”

The way he said it was as if he were declaring:

“I am now your employer.”

Even an absent-minded mage like Phel wasn’t so oblivious as to miss the implication.

It wouldn’t do to make a bad impression on the lord of the land he was about to settle in.

More importantly, if it hadn’t been for this young noble, he wouldn’t be exiled—he’d be permanently expelled from the mage world.

“…Well, actually, I’ve been working on a new artifact lately…”

Phel hesitantly handed over a burnt blueprint and began explaining.

“Most artifacts so far rely on fire magic, right? Magic lanterns, magic cauldrons, magic stoves—they’re all fire-based. They’re simple to make, but they consume a lot of mana.”

“You mean they’re inefficient?”

“Exactly! High mana consumption means short artifact lifespans. In comparison, lightning magic consumes far less mana.”

There had been artifacts enchanted with lightning magic before, but their usage had been limited.

They were mostly used for stun weapons like magic tasers or as damage-boosting enchantments on weapons like spears and swords.

Dr. Phel, however, wanted to harness lightning as an energy source for a variety of artifacts.

His first invention was a magic lantern powered by lightning magic.

‘Wait a second… Isn’t that just an electric light bulb?’

Looking at the design, Philip immediately recognized the familiar structure.

It was almost identical to a modern lightbulb.

The only difference was that, instead of a filament inside a glass sphere, Phel’s magic lantern had a crystal sphere placed on a magic-inscribed pedestal.

“When lightning strikes, it flashes brilliantly, right? That’s because of the collision of positive and negative mana in the atmosphere. I figured, if we harness that principle, we could create a steady, bright light…”

“But it’s not working as well as you’d hoped?”

Phel sighed.

During his latest experiment, he had been testing the lighting mechanism, but the crystal sphere shattered, releasing an uncontrolled electric discharge, which caused the explosion.

Philip took in all the information carefully, then asked:

“Why do you think lightning magic can extract new metals from ore?”

“Oh, that’s because I read something interesting in an old record,” Phel replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

“It said that when King Lucas the Founder struck a great boulder with his Lightning Sword, a wondrous metal was born—white as silver, yet as light as silk…”

‘That’s aluminum, no doubt about it.’

A lot of details had clearly been omitted from the legend, but it seemed that King Lucas had discovered how to refine aluminum.

However, since the metal had faded into obscurity, it was likely that Lucas had kept the method to himself, and the knowledge had died with him.

For now, Philip set aside aluminum refining and instead focused on the light bulb-like artifact that Phel had been working on.

“This thing is just supposed to provide light, right? But the voltage—no, the electric charge—seems way too strong.”

“I had that thought too,” Phel admitted, rubbing his chin.

“But when I used weaker charges, the crystal sphere wouldn’t light up at all.”

“What if you found a conductor that reacts to weaker charges?”

At Philip’s suggestion, Phel gave a bitter smile.

“You think I haven’t tried? There are plenty of materials that react to magic, but none of them work well with lightning magic.

Everything I’ve tested either melts or burns up instantly under even a weak charge.”

Philip smirked knowingly, as if he had expected that response.

Phel, noticing his expression, furrowed his brows.

“Baron, do you actually know anything about magic?”

“I studied a little in the past. But as an Apostle of Eldir, I’ve also gained a great deal of knowledge about metals and their properties.”

“…Then are you saying you know which metals respond well to lightning magic?”

Philip nodded.

“Most metals conduct electricity—or rather, lightning magic—to some degree. The best one is silver, but if its surface oxidizes and forms a black tarnish, its effectiveness drops dramatically.”

Phel’s eyes widened.

This young noble had just casually stated facts that Phel had spent years researching, as if they were common knowledge.

After his shock subsided, something else sparked within him—deep curiosity.

‘Is this guy actually an Apostle of the Blacksmithing God? Or is he secretly an Apostle of the God of Knowledge?’

Originally, Phel had planned to slack off in the frontier for about a year—just enough time for his master, Glan, to cool his temper.

But after just a few minutes of conversation with this young baron, that plan completely changed.

“When refining metal, you know how even the best charcoal can burn up quickly if you use strong bellows to increase the heat?”

“Yes, and how does that relate to my experiments?”

“It’s the same principle. The catalysts in your experiments are absorbing too much heat and energy at once when exposed to lightning magic. If you want them to last longer, you need to minimize their exposure to air.”

Philip simplified the explanation as much as possible, and Phel’s eyes shone with realization.

“…So you’re saying I should shield them from air? Like with a wind barrier?”

“Better yet, put them in something small and sealed, like a glass container.

And if you could remove all the air inside, that would be even better.”

“…You mean create a vacuum?”

Vacuum and airless environments were not unfamiliar concepts in the magical world—mages had been conducting sealed environment experiments for centuries.

However, Phel had never considered using that principle for his artifact research.

‘This… might actually work!’

As his mind raced with possibilities, Phel found himself genuinely impressed with Philip.

‘This young baron… he’s the real deal.’

And Philip, seeing the burning curiosity and excitement in Phel’s eyes, grinned wickedly to himself.

‘Hook, line, and sinker.’

Mages were, in many ways, like scientists—driven by curiosity, always hungry for new knowledge.

Throw them a juicy bait of intriguing research, and they wouldn’t be able to resist chasing after it.

“I still have a lot to learn,” Philip said smoothly.

“But if we share our knowledge, I believe we can achieve great things together.”

“You know… I completely agree!”

From that moment on, the deal was sealed.

Phel, now fully invested, enthusiastically began packing his things—his earlier despair completely forgotten.

All the while, behind him, Philip smirked with undisguised satisfaction.

‘Heh heh heh… I finally got myself a mage-slave.’