The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

As Philip entered the lounge, he saw Karl sitting with Count Markel.

Karl, who was resting on the sofa, looked visibly exhausted.

“Your Majesty, you seem very tired.”

“Hah, the nobles just kept swarming in, all trying to make an appearance…”

At such a young age, enduring several hours of a banquet was naturally overwhelming.

“Still, if you want to govern well, you can’t ignore those who came to offer their congratulations.”

“You’re absolutely right. But why did you call for me?”

“There’s a troublesome issue, and I wanted to hear the baron’s opinion.”

With that, Karl continued.

“Many people have come to celebrate my ascension, but some haven’t shown up.”

“The Duke of Volzard and Princess Amelia?”

“Exactly. There’s still time left in the banquet, but I hear both of them are already returning to their respective strongholds.”

It was obvious—they were trying to stabilize their wavering supporters.

Currently, there was a heated debate among the retainers regarding how to handle them.

“Your Majesty, they will never acknowledge your rule. Consider them traitors and crush them immediately.”

“It wouldn’t look good if I started wielding my sword the moment I took the throne. We should observe their actions for now…”

“What if they rally their forces and rebel? Your Majesty, you must strike first!”

“Your Majesty, launching simultaneous campaigns against both the North and the East is no easy task. If the suppression drags on, it could damage the royal family’s prestige. We should consolidate our forces first…”

The prevailing opinion was in favor of subjugation.

Even those advocating for a cautious approach ultimately agreed that the two factions needed to be eliminated.

“The southern and western nobles, who initially remained neutral but later pledged support to me, are the most insistent about this.”

“Well, they ignored Your Majesty before, so now they want to make up for it by proving their loyalty.”

“That’s what I think too. But if we go through with the suppression, a civil war will break out, and the kingdom will suffer greatly.”

This was what Karl was reluctant about.

Even if his forces were currently strong and the chances of victory were high, a civil war would never end cleanly.

Countless citizens would be sacrificed, and the kingdom’s military strength would inevitably weaken.

“But at the same time, I can’t just leave these two factions alone either—that’s the problem.”

There was no telling what those two, who had once vied for the throne, might attempt.

The East might declare independence, or the North could fall into the hands of Vesvallen.

Shouldn’t he be discussing this thoroughly with close aides like Marquis Marteze? Why ask me?

Philip found it troublesome, but seeing Karl’s expectant gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore him entirely.

So, he decided to offer a plausible answer and then step away.

“Your Majesty, from what I understand…”

Karl looked at Philip.

A man who had brought him luck—almost like a good-luck charm.

His close aides claimed Philip knew nothing beyond smithing, but Karl didn’t believe that.

If that were true, how could he have won a territorial battle in just one day and even eradicated a necromancer?

There had to be something more.

And so, Karl listened closely to Philip’s words.

“Your Majesty, in the end, the best victory is one achieved without fighting.”

“Is that so? But how does one win without fighting?”

“Well… through negotiation. You need to satisfy the other party while ensuring that the outcome benefits you greatly.”

“You mean I should offer them something? Even though they tried to eliminate me?”

Karl was quick to question every point.

As Philip struggled to come up with an answer, a line from an old historical drama he had seen suddenly surfaced in his mind.

“Your Majesty, there is a proverb from the Eastern Continent: ‘Keep your enemies closer than your friends.’”

“Keep your enemies closer than your friends?”

“Yes, by keeping them close and under watch, they won’t be able to act recklessly.”

Count Markel, who had been quietly listening, scoffed.

“That’s nonsense, Baron. Those two factions aren’t fools. How exactly do you plan to keep them close?”

“Well…”

Damn it, do I have to come up with everything?

Since he had already started this, Philip racked his brain for a way to summon the two faction leaders to the capital.

Just then, Karl’s eyes lit up, and he smacked his knee.

“Aha! That’s it! That’s how we’ll do it!”

“Huh? What exactly are we doing?”

Karl stood up, grabbing Philip’s hand with a grateful expression.

“As expected, Baron Brandel is no ordinary man! There’s a reason you were chosen as an Apostle of God!”

“Ah… Yes. I’m glad my humble advice was of help, Your Majesty.”

“And so modest, too… Are you sure you don’t want to take the position of Minister of Public Affairs?”

“I apologize, but I lack the ability to handle such a high-ranking position.”

“I just want to live in peace, damn it!”

Philip screamed internally, but seeing Karl’s disappointed expression, he added,

“I plan to return to my territory tomorrow.”

“What? You’re not going to stay and enjoy the banquet until the end?”

It was rare to have so many nobles gathered in one place.

Many lords who had come from distant regions were taking advantage of the occasion to forge new connections, some extending their stay for a fortnight, others for two to three months.

Karl couldn’t understand why Baron Brandel was leaving before the celebrations were even over.

“Lately, there have been unsettling movements among the monsters in the Prill Mountain Range. Not to mention, the recent appearance of a necromancer…”

“Ah, right. Even Marquis Marteze mentioned that monster attacks on villages have increased.”

In reality, the monsters were simply descending on human settlements due to a prolonged drought, but with Philip’s words, it now sounded as if malevolent forces like necromancers were stirring once more.

“Moreover, Lord Eldir has repeatedly urged me not to leave my territory unattended for too long.”

“Hmm… If it’s a divine warning, something serious might indeed be happening.”

Karl, being the naive type, swallowed Philip’s words without question.

Philip smirked inwardly.

<“Lord Lupole says that a so-called Apostle of God spewing outright lies is disgraceful.”>

<“Lord Valian agrees, saying someone like you should be thoroughly punished.”>

<“Lord Eldir is annoyed, asking why the two of you keep obsessing over someone else’s Apostle.”>

“What do you want me to do? It’s not like sucking up to the king will earn me any divine points.”

Ignoring the grumbling gods, Philip bid Karl farewell and exited the lounge.

But someone had been waiting for him.

“Finally, he’s alone!”

A blond noble youth had been biding his time, watching for the right moment to approach Philip.

Now that Philip was alone, the young man hurriedly walked up and greeted him.

“It’s been a while, Philip. Or should I say, Baron Brandel now?”

Philip narrowed his eyes.

“And you are…?”

“Oh dear, have you forgotten me? It’s me, Yordan.”

At that name, memories of the original body’s past surfaced.

Yordan had been his roommate at the Royal Academy.

But they had never been close.

Yordan had studied medicine, while the original Philip had been in political science.

Moreover, as the third son of a low-ranking bureaucratic noble, Yordan had always harbored an inferiority complex towards Philip, constantly mocking him for being rustic and unrefined.

Naturally, Philip had never liked him either.

“And now this guy’s suddenly acting all friendly and respectful? Because I seem close to the king?”

Philip decided to play along and see what Yordan was after.

“Oh, it’s you. But what brings such a refined young lord of the capital to a rural baron?”

Philip’s sarcasm made Yordan’s face flush, but he quickly regained his composure and smirked.

“I heard from my friend Lloyd that you recently visited the Royal Magic Tower in search of a mage, Baron.”

“Lloyd? Ah…!”

The apprentice mage who had volunteered as his guide at the tower.

So, these two knew each other.

“Magicians aren’t the only talents needed in the frontier, are they? I’ve heard that you also lack healers… If I were to join you, I could help care for your people.”

“You’re eager to head to the frontier, a place most people avoid? Are you trying to escape from some debt?”

Philip cast a suspicious glance at Yordan, who jumped in protest.

“Absolutely not! It’s just… there are too many healers in the capital, so I don’t get many patients.”

“So, business isn’t doing well.”

“I just want to gain more experience.”

His strong insistence only made him seem more suspicious.

Philip was about to reject him outright but reconsidered. Having a trained healer in the territory wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“If hardship is what you seek, I won’t deny you. But we’re leaving the capital tomorrow.”

“What? Oh… I see. Understood! Thank you for accepting me.”

Hurriedly, Yordan excused himself, saying he needed to pack.

Mau voiced his concerns, but Philip grinned confidently.

“If he tries anything funny, I’ll make sure he won’t dare again.”

*****

On the road leading north, a luxurious carriage, heavily guarded by a thousand-strong escort—including knights—sped along.

Inside, a middle-aged couple was locked in a heated argument.

“This is all your fault! If you hadn’t been so cowardly, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“I had no choice at the time! I was only worried about your safety…”

“Enough! A prince should have more courage!”

Princess Amelia and her husband, Prince Gerard, had fled the capital in haste.

After learning that Karl had personally intervened to stop the fighting between the two factions and had even put out the fires, Amelia had been filled with regret.

Public sentiment had shifted in an instant, and she and Duke Volzard had been left in disgrace—like dogs that had lost their prey.

“Hah, my lady. What’s done is done. We need to prepare for the future.”

“You’re right… Karl won’t just let me or Uncle Volzard go unpunished.”

“Exactly. That’s why we’re heading north—to regroup with the remaining nobles and seek support from Vesvallen.”

If they didn’t act quickly, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the royal army’s inevitable subjugation.

“Your Highness, a messenger from the Royal Guard has arrived.”

“A messenger? What is it about?”

Amelia furrowed her brows at the report from Hilda, the commander of the Black Rose Knights.

A rider carrying a white flag dismounted and approached, holding a sealed letter.

“His Majesty instructed me to deliver this to you.”

“His Majesty? You mean Karl?”

“Yes, the coronation took place two days ago.”

The messenger’s slight smirk made Amelia grit her teeth.

Damn it, now there’s no denying it.

With a contorted expression, she broke the seal and read the letter.

Was it a declaration of war?

Or perhaps an official decree stripping her of her royal status for her involvement in the capital’s skirmish?

Suppressing the nervous pounding of her heart, she carefully read through the message.

Her eyes widened in shock.

“This… this is completely unexpected.”