The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

Shortly after Philip and Libertà finalized their agreement, the innkeeper brought out a large cauldron of soup.

The starving refugees, clutching their empty stomachs, rushed forward.

“Eat slowly. There’s plenty of soup left,” Philip advised.

“Y-yes, thank you, sir,” one of the refugees responded gratefully.

Watching them wolf down their food, Philip clicked his tongue in frustration.

“Refugees wandering this close to the royal capital… What the hell are the central bureaucrats doing?”

“They’re likely preoccupied with the late king’s passing and the succession crisis,” Midas, the scribe, remarked.

While that was a valid point, Philip believed the real issue was that many nobles simply lacked concern for the common people.

‘Even if there’s a drought, proper relief efforts could prevent these people from becoming refugees—just like how our territory handles it.’

The Baron Brandel family had prioritized public welfare since Philip’s father’s time.

With the territory bordering dangerous lands filled with monsters, depopulation could mean the complete collapse of the domain.

‘But even without monster threats, failing to support the people is just as dangerous. If they leave, productivity drops, tax revenues decline, and ultimately, the kingdom itself weakens.’

A weakened kingdom would inevitably fall into chaos, and Philip could already predict the kind of disaster that would follow.

‘That’s probably why Prince Karl is in such a hurry to ascend the throne.’

By securing the crown quickly, he could stabilize the nation and prevent further internal strife and external threats.

But another thought tugged at Philip’s mind.

‘How’s my territory holding up?’

He had left it in the hands of his vassals, but it had been a while since he received any updates.

“I hope everything’s fine…”

*****

While Philip worried about his estate, his retainers were hard at work.

There were ongoing construction projects that Philip had ordered before his departure, and unexpected developments had arisen over the past twenty days.

Clang! Bang!

“Reinforce those fireproof bricks! If even one is misplaced, the blast furnace will be ruined!”

The second forge—no, the ironworks—was under construction.

Hundreds of workers had been mobilized for the project.

Chief Blacksmith Hans had completely dedicated himself to overseeing the construction, even entrusting his own forge to his apprentices for the time being.

“Iron will be the grain—the wheat—of all industries. And the ironworks will be the field that grows it.”

Those were Philip’s words before he left for the capital.

Even if he hadn’t said them, Hans was thrilled.

The opportunity to run an ironworks, something that previously only existed in the Dwarven Kingdom, was a dream come true for any blacksmith.

Moreover, thanks to Eldir’s guidance, Philip had somehow obtained detailed blueprints for a massive blast furnace.

Hans ensured that its construction was flawless, without a single misalignment.

‘Once this ironworks is complete, our iron production will triple!’

Even now, the territory’s iron output wasn’t small.

The iron smelted in the forges matched the production of some earldoms.

That increased production allowed the territorial army to be armed with superior weapons, and the common folk to wield stronger farming tools and equipment.

‘If we want to expand our industries and trade, we need even more iron.’

Thus, the ironworks was a crucial investment in the future.

Just as Hans was immersed in his thoughts, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, Hans. How’s the ironworks coming along?”

Hans turned to see Carpenter, the Baron’s Knight and newly titled Viscount, approaching with a few cavalrymen.

“On patrol?” Hans asked.

Carpenter shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also checking on the projects the lord ordered before he left.”

The two had known each other since before Carpenter became a knight.

Even though Carpenter’s noble rank was now higher, they still spoke casually in private.

“Iron supply is crucial for the lord’s ambitions,” Carpenter remarked.

“I know that. But where do you think his ambitions end?” Hans mused.

“A county? No… maybe even higher than that.”

“Hah! If we want to keep up with the lord, we’ll have to work even harder than we are now.”

“That’s why we must endure, no matter how difficult it gets.”

If Philip had heard their conversation, he might have jumped up in surprise.

After sharing a knowing smile, Carpenter and his men continued their patrol.

“Our next stop is Aim Village, correct?”

“Yes, Commander. It’s the village where the most refugees have settled recently.”

“I’ve heard it’s been quite rowdy there.”

There had been reports of friction between the original villagers and the newcomers. Many refugees were also struggling to adjust to the unfamiliar land policies.

‘I heard the administrators have been having a hard time. I’d better check on things myself.’

*****

In the central square of Aim Village, First-Class Scribe Jude Blanc was meeting with a group of newly settled refugees.

“So, you’re telling us that we have to give up seventy percent of our harvest as tax?” one of the refugees asked, his expression a mix of skepticism and frustration.

“I know it sounds like a lot at first,” Jude replied patiently, “but think about it. As your production increases, your own share will also grow. You won’t be at a loss in the long run.”

Jude was doing his best to explain the land distribution and tax system in simple terms.

Initially, the refugees had been thrilled to receive land. But when they started hearing about harvest yields, taxation, and land policies, their enthusiasm quickly turned into confusion.

Even some of the existing villagers had struggled with the changes.

Many had questioned why things had to change when the old system worked just fine.

Fortunately, the village elders and headmen had helped ease the transition.

But for the refugees, it was different.

“Sir, we understand what you’re saying,” one of the refugees said hesitantly, “but in the end, it just means we have to work ourselves to the bone. There’s only so much a person can do.”

“That’s right,” another chimed in. “Farming isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

Some of them suspected that they were being tricked into slave labor.

After all, rumors had spread that some noble territories had been forcibly enslaving refugees.

There had even been fights between the villagers and refugees because some locals treated them like slaves.

Jude sighed, pointing at the farming tools the refugees were holding.

“I understand. Trying to farm with those flimsy wooden tools reinforced with thin metal plates must be exhausting. That’s why our lord has decided to lend new farming equipment to refugees as well.”

With a dramatic gesture, Jude unveiled a wagon full of brand-new farming tools.

The refugees gasped.

Sturdy hoes, shovels, and plows—crafted from thick, durable iron—gleamed under the sunlight.

“What do you think? With these, your work will be much easier, won’t it?”

“Haha! Of course! These will help a lot!”

“That large plow… we could till much deeper with that!”

Even without understanding the exact science behind it, the refugees knew from experience that deeper tilling meant better crop yields.

Jude grinned at their enthusiasm.

“And that’s not all. The lord has also planned the construction of reservoirs and irrigation canals. That means you won’t have to worry about droughts anymore.”

“Amazing! But… will we have to pay a tax for using the water?”

Jude smirked.

“Our lord doesn’t impose unnecessary taxes. If anyone tries to charge you for water, report them immediately.”

“Really?!”

“Praise the lord!”

The refugees erupted into cheers.

Jude raised his voice, making sure everyone heard him clearly.

“Forget all your worries. Just focus on working hard and increasing your harvests. If you do that, both the territory and your own livelihoods will improve!”

“Yes, sir!”

Eager to test out their new tools, the refugees rushed off to their fields and farmlands.

As Jude watched them with satisfaction, he suddenly noticed Carpenter observing the scene.

Without hesitation, he hurried over.

“Commander! What brings you here?”

“Just on patrol. I wanted to make sure nothing got out of hand.”

Jude chuckled. “You needn’t have worried.”

“Haha, so it seems.”

Following Jude’s lead, Carpenter moved toward the outskirts of the village, where another significant project was underway.

New homes were being built.

These houses, constructed under Philip’s orders, were designated for the future settlers of the territory.

“The work is moving fast. I heard the construction methods have changed. Is that the reason?”

“That, and we also provide bonuses to carpenters and laborers for shortening construction time,” Jude explained.

At first, some workers had tried to rush the job sloppily just to earn the bonus, but strict inspections and harsh penalties had put a stop to any such misconduct.

“You’re doing well. The lord will be pleased when he returns.”

“I’m counting on it,” Jude said with a smile.

Carpenter watched him for a moment, recalling something Helen had mentioned before.

‘They say he fled from his family’s bureaucratic faction after being unable to use his college education properly… A man this competent, wasted on tax evasion schemes and bribery? What a waste.’

It was clear to Carpenter that Jude was likely to become the next Chief Administrator, a position still left vacant.

Jude himself seemed eager for the role.

‘Some might object because of his age, but if we want the domain to thrive, we must prioritize competence over seniority.’

Carpenter had climbed the ranks from a mere soldier to Knight Commander through his own abilities, so he had no reason to oppose Jude’s rise.

“Ah, by the way, Commander. How is the fort construction at the northern part of Romu Forest progressing?” Jude asked.

The northern Romu Forest was located at the southern edge of the Prill Mountain Range.

Currently, the domain’s forces were building a fortress there.

But this wasn’t just for defending against monsters—it was intended to serve as a gateway for an expansion into the Prill Mountains.

Ten years ago, Dwarven prospectors had reported rich mineral veins in those mountains.

At the time, the territory was too poor to take advantage of that information.

But now, things were different.

Before leaving for the capital, Philip had ordered the mobilization of the domain’s army to construct the fortress.

“The fort’s construction is going smoothly. We’ve also reinforced the territorial army recently,” Carpenter replied.

“No interference from monsters?”

“Not much. We’ve been hunting them down consistently, so they don’t show up as often anymore.”

The musketeers had been leading the extermination efforts.

Most monsters fell in a single shot, and now, even the smell of gunpowder was enough to send goblins running for their lives.

Jude chuckled. “Hopefully, we find quality mines in the mountains soon… Buchini has been grumbling that we’re spending too much money.”

“The treasury still has plenty of reserves, though. Why is Treasurer Buchini being such a miser?”

“Because a year ago, this territory was dirt poor. You have to understand his concerns.”

Philip had invested aggressively in the territory using the 10 million Dalant he received from Francesca Callisto.

At first, Buchini had been delighted to have funds, but when he saw how quickly the money was being spent, he became obsessed with monitoring every expense.

Many had complained about his stinginess, but Carpenter believed that having someone like Buchini was necessary for financial discipline.

“That aside, have you noticed any suspicious people among the refugees?”

Jude’s face hardened immediately at the mention of security.

Was there an incident in the domain while he was stationed in Aim Village?