The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

At the dwarven master smith’s question, Philip fell silent for a moment before speaking.

“In truth, Eldir himself…”

“Ah, that’s right. You are an Apostle of Eldir, after all.”

“Yes, we had a similar issue with a waterwheel back in my territory, but the god revealed the solution to me.”

Mau, who had appeared beside him, sneered at Philip’s blatant lie.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m doing anything bad.

Philip ignored Mau’s nagging, letting it go in one ear and out the other.

The dwarven master smith, though still somewhat skeptical, asked,

“But is it really okay to share such a precious technique that the god bestowed upon you?”

“Dwarves are, after all, the descendants of Eldir. I’m sure the god would understand.”

“Hah! Is that so? Hahaha!”

Stroking his beard with satisfaction, the master smith chuckled.

“Even so, we dwarves cannot accept such valuable knowledge without repayment. It is our custom to return what we receive.”

“Then, in return, I ask that you sell me a fixed amount of manganese every month.”

At Philip’s proposal, the master smith’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Hah, so you were after manganese all along! Well, I owe you a debt, so I can’t refuse… But do you even know how to refine or use it?”

It was clear that the dwarves had no intention of teaching him the processing techniques.

But Philip didn’t mind. He already had the necessary knowledge.

“I plan to research it myself.”

“Well, do your best then.”

In the end, the dwarven master smith agreed to a contract for the monthly sale of manganese to Philip.

Having secured this unexpected gain, Philip left the smithy in high spirits.

******

Three days had passed since Philip arrived in Campania.

Thanks to Helen’s guidance, he had explored various parts of the city.

Unlike in her academy days, where she had been somewhat laid-back, Helen now seemed truly diligent.

She was knowledgeable, efficient, and handled tasks quickly. Philip felt he could trust her with even more of the domain’s administrative duties.

‘Everything is coming together nicely.’

The retainers of his territory weren’t particularly outstanding, but they were at least competent.

His forces were steadily growing, and profits from selling Zippo lighters had started to come in.

With all these developments, Philip thought it was finally time to indulge in his personal projects.

‘There are so many things I’ve wanted to make.’

Back on Earth, as Kang Hyunsoo, he had abandoned countless ideas due to lack of money and resources.

He had watched enviously as historical and military YouTubers crafted incredible items.

But now, he could make them himself.

As Philip mused over his plans with a satisfied grin, a question suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

“Milord, are you really going to buy something for us?”

“That’s right. You don’t have to, really.”

“I’m just grateful for all your hard work. As long as it’s not too expensive, tell me what you’d like.”

“Thank you!”

Just before leaving Campania, Philip decided to buy a small gift for his attendants.

Leading his delighted subordinates towards the shopping district, he suddenly asked,

“I’ve noticed a lot of elves and half-elves working as merchants or shopkeepers here. Is there a particular reason for that?”

At first, he thought it might be a marketing tactic—using the beauty of elves to attract customers.

However, he had also seen many elves who were plain or even unattractive.

“As dwarves are known for their craftsmanship, elves are known for their trade.”

“That doesn’t explain why so many elves are merchants.”

“It’s just been that way since ancient times.”

Terry’s simplistic answer left Philip unsatisfied.

Helen, noticing his curiosity, provided a more detailed explanation.

“Milord, elves love to travel. They enjoy collecting and exchanging rare goods. But the real reason they became a dominant merchant class was due to the invasion of the underground demons.”

“Underground demons?”

“Yes, the wicked beings who follow the Demon God Azra.”

Originally, most elves lived in the land of paradise, centered around the World Tree.

However, a thousand years ago, an invasion by the underground demons forced them to flee their homeland.

Displaced and scattered, they found themselves struggling to survive in unfamiliar lands.

“To adapt, they turned to their natural talents and began trading. Their speed and reliability quickly earned them a reputation far better than human merchants.”

“So that’s why there are so many elven merchants.”

“It’s not just ‘many.’ You could say they practically control the continent’s entire trade network.”

Elves had a significant influence over trade and finance across the continent.

The Callisto Trading Company, led by Delpharos, was a prime example of their dominance.

“But because of that, many people dislike elves,” Helen pointed out.

“What? Why?”

“They have a good reputation for reliability, but they’re also extremely meticulous and calculating. In particular, moneylenders like Delpharos, who have no compassion whatsoever, are infamous.”

‘Ah, so that’s why my retainers were so upset when Delpharos first came to my territory.’

To make matters worse, elves held themselves in high regard, believing they were the “chosen people of the gods” who hailed from paradise.

Even when living in human society, they stubbornly adhered to their own language and customs, earning them the derogatory nickname “arrogant pointy-ears.”

He had heard of elves portrayed as primitive, nomadic tribes who couldn’t even appreciate good food in some Japanese manga.

Philip clicked his tongue at the thought.

But to find himself in a world where elves were greedy misers was a whole different experience.

“They’re not all like that, are they?” he asked.

“Of course not. Otherwise, half-elves wouldn’t exist,” Helen replied.

As they chatted and strolled through the marketplace, a merchant approached them.

“My lord, I have many fine crafts—would you care to take a look?”

“A goblin?” Philip asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What an insult! I may be only half, but I am still one of the blessed people of paradise!”

The half-elf merchant had the unfortunate look of a goblin, with a sharp nose and a scrawny frame.

His stall, however, was filled with finely crafted metalworks—buckles, brooches, rings, and hairpins, all with remarkable craftsmanship.

“These pieces are quite impressive, and the prices are reasonable.”

“Hehehe, I have personal connections with a dwarven artisan,” the merchant boasted.

“Pick something you like, I’ll buy it for you all,” Philip told his attendants.

His followers beamed with joy as they eagerly entered the shop, browsing through the accessories and crafted goods.

‘Is this brooch made from coral?’

Terry wasn’t particularly interested in accessories or crafts.

Even if Philip was paying, he hadn’t intended to buy anything.

But when he saw a coral brooch, a memory surfaced.

His mother had once told him about how she lost a coral ornament while crossing a river.

It had been passed down from his grandmother, and she had deeply regretted losing it.

Though this wasn’t the same item, he was certain she would be happy to receive it as a gift.

Terry pointed to the coral brooch.

“I’ll take this brooch.”

“I want that one.”

At the same time, another voice spoke.

Terry turned to look at the other buyer.

A barbarian woman?

She had green dreadlocks, bronzed skin, and a beauty mark beneath her left eye.

Her voluptuous figure was emphasized by the sleeveless leather vest she wore.

When she noticed Terry looking at her, she squinted playfully.

“Heh~ A man buying a brooch? That’s a peculiar taste.”

“It’s a gift for my family.”

“Oh, really? I was thinking of getting it for my mother too.”

They had the same purpose, but there was a problem.

“Apologies,” the merchant interjected, “but this is the last one.”

Terry, determined to buy it, politely requested,

“I’d appreciate it if you could yield.”

“No way. I want it too.”

“If I compensate you, would you reconsider?”

“I’m not some beggar!”

The barbarian woman shouted, then suddenly eyed Terry up and down, licking her lips.

“Heh, you look pretty strong… Alright, if you can beat me in a fight, I’ll give it up.”

The barbarian tribes of the southern continent were divided into multiple clans, but they all shared a few common traits.

They were incredibly skilled warriors—so much so that both men and women often worked as mercenaries.

However, they were also rough-mannered and short-tempered, frequently causing trouble.

Judging from her balanced physique and the energy she exuded, this woman was no ordinary fighter.

She could probably take down two or three regular knights on her own.

But Terry hadn’t expected her to demand a duel on the spot.

‘Barbarians, seriously…’

He sighed.

“Why are you laughing? Do you think I’m a joke?”

“I’ll let you have it. I won’t fight over a brooch.”

While the coral brooch was valuable, Terry was currently serving as Philip’s bodyguard.

He couldn’t afford to cause a commotion.

So, he chose to back down.

But the barbarian woman had other plans.

“Come on, fight me!”

“I said no—”

Terry was in the middle of rejecting her again when he suddenly halted, his hand flying to his sword hilt.

The barbarian woman had already drawn her twin swords and was lunging at him like a wild beast.

What the hell is going on?

Philip’s eyes widened.

Just moments ago, Terry had been having a simple argument with some woman, and now they were suddenly crossing blades.

The clash lasted only a few seconds before a sharp, ringing sound echoed through the air—

CLANG—!

Sparks flew as steel met steel.

A final, powerful strike sent the barbarian warrior skidding backward, tumbling just outside the shop.

“Whoa! What the hell?!”

“Someone call the city guards!”

Nearly colliding with passersby, the woman quickly regained her footing, adjusting her stance.

Her gaze locked onto Terry, who was calmly stepping out of the shop.

“Now that you understand the difference in our skill, why don’t we end this here?”

“Hah! Acting all high and mighty just because you know a bit of Aura? I haven’t even shown my full strength yet!”

Enraged, red tattoos suddenly appeared on her arms.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

“Gasp! A Tattooed Warrior!”

Philip whipped his head around and asked,

“What the hell is a Tattooed Warrior?”

The escorting guards hesitated before answering.

“W-Well… some barbarian warriors receive ritual tattoos from their shamans, granting them supernatural abilities.”

“They say different tattoos provide different enhancements—some give superhuman strength, some increase speed, and others even allow for mystical powers like magic.”

‘So it’s basically a buff skill.’

The red energy from her tattoos seeped into her twin swords, making them glow ominously.

“Kyaaah! It’s supernatural power!”

“Are you crazy?! You’re using that in the middle of a marketplace?!”

Ignoring the panicked shouts around her, the warrior charged at Terry once more.

She moved erratically, weaving like a jungle predator, her twin swords slicing through the air.

Helen, looking nervous, turned to Philip.

“L-Lord, what should we do?”

“It’s fine. Terry won’t lose.”

Philip wasn’t an expert in swordsmanship, but even he could see that Terry was the superior fighter.

Despite his opponent’s relentless assault, Terry barely moved, dodging the strikes with minimal effort and blocking only when necessary.

‘This looks like one of those martial arts movies where a reclusive master teaches a cocky newbie a lesson.’

Unless backup arrived to interfere, this fight wouldn’t last much longer.

And sure enough, as Philip had predicted—

Terry made his move.

In a flash, his sword struck with perfect precision.

CLANG!

A sharp, clear sound rang through the air as the barbarian woman’s twin swords were sent flying.

Losing her balance, she stumbled backward, only to find Terry’s blade resting lightly against her throat.

“Urgh…!”

“This should end here. I won’t keep holding back forever.”

The woman, still in shock from her unexpected defeat, stared blankly for a moment.

Then—

Her expression suddenly changed.

Her flushed face softened, and her gaze turned hazy.

It was almost like a screw had come loose.

Then, with a blush, she asked,

“What’s your name?”

“…Terry, a knight of Baron Brandel’s domain.”

“Hmmm, Terry, huh? Are you married?”

“I’m… single. Why do you ask?”

“Hohoho, that’s perfect.”

Then—

She suddenly flung herself into his arms.

“Then marry me!”

“…W-What?!”

Terry’s entire face turned pale as she latched onto him.