The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

Darkness thickened over the capital.

Strange phenomena were occurring near the inn where Philip’s group was staying.

“Dear, doesn’t it feel like we’ve been walking in circles for a while now?”

“Yawn… I dunno… Maybe…”

“Honey, wake up! You can’t just fall aslee—”

The wife, who had been trying to rouse her yawning husband, suddenly collapsed beside him.

They weren’t the only ones.

Numerous passersby stumbled and fell unconscious in the middle of the street.

Even residents inside their homes were suddenly overtaken by an overwhelming drowsiness.

In mere moments, an eerie silence enveloped the entire district.

From the shadows, figures in black robes and masks emerged.

It was Musette and the assassination squad.

“The barrier is fully in place.”

“A large-scale Sleep Magic has been activated across the zone.”

The black-robed individuals were mages recruited into the organization—outcasts expelled from the Mage Tower or the kingdom for committing heinous crimes.

With access to forbidden grimoires, money, and pleasures, they had been lured into servitude.

Hearing their reports, Musette, his face concealed beneath a gray mask, surveyed the street.

Inside homes, on roads, within the barrier’s range, everyone was asleep—except for one place.

The inn remained active, figures moving hastily within.

They had tried to escape, but upon realizing they were surrounded, they had barricaded themselves inside, bolting doors and windows shut.

“It seems the targets and their companions resisted the Sleep Magic.”

“S-So sorry, Lord Musette… For some reason, the spell didn’t work on them. It could be the young saintess’s divine power…”

The mages, sweating nervously, offered their excuses.

But Musette didn’t scold them.

Instead, he let out a wicked grin.

“That’s fine. A little resistance makes the hunt more entertaining.”

A sinister smile spread across his face.

The Clan of Darkness, to which he belonged, thrived on fear, chaos, and despair—absorbing the negative energy these emotions generated.

Secrecy was essential to their mission.

But how could he pass up the delicious despair awaiting him?

‘Besides… the one protecting the little saintess is that Baron Brandel.’

Just before launching his attack, Musette had discovered this fact—and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

The man who had killed one of their black mages in the Prill Mountain Range was now his prey.

‘The so-called Apostle of Eldir, wielder of the Flame’s Divine Power… What a joke.’

Right now, the only divine power he could sense was Arkina’s.

That meant Philip de Brandel had been bluffing all along.

“Let’s see how well this fraud holds up.”

Musette raised his hand, signaling the assault.

Among the five mages in the assassination squad, three began casting support spells on the fighters:

Quick – Boosting their speed
Strength – Enhancing their physical power

Meanwhile, the remaining two mages conjured dark spheres in the air, preparing an offensive strike.

“Dark Spear!”

BOOM! CRASH!—

The dark projectiles slammed into the inn, shattering the walls, windows, and doors.

A devastating explosion of black energy engulfed the structure.

The damage was inevitable.

Dark Spear was a mid-tier siege spell, powerful even in battlefield warfare.

A mere inn was no match for it.

‘I could just bury them with Dark Spears alone, but that’d be too boring.’

Musette wanted more.

He wanted the little saintess and her companions to drown in fear before he ended them.

And so, instead of continuing the magical bombardment, he signaled his warriors.

“Storm the place. Kill them all.”

Already empowered by magic, the assassins charged toward the half-collapsed inn.

Through the ruined walls and shattered windows, they spotted knights and soldiers preparing to resist.

Then, they noticed something else—

A strange metal rod protruding through the broken window.

‘What’s that?’

TATATATATA—!!

Lightning erupted in front of the assassins’ eyes.

******

“Damn it, who the hell are these guys?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we get out of here—this is bad.”

Hearing Terry’s report, Philip immediately tried to evacuate his people.

But no matter which way they turned, they couldn’t escape the streets.

They kept looping back to the same spot.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s a barrier. This area has been sealed with magic.”

Liberta’s expression hardened.

The Sleep Magic cast over the district hadn’t affected her, thanks to her healing divine power, but the barrier itself was another matter.

She could dispel it if she unleashed her divine power at full force—but Ariel’s warning had been clear. She couldn’t afford to overuse it.

“A barrier? So we can’t escape?”

“Exactly. The only way out is to eliminate the mages maintaining it.”

The problem was that it would be difficult to pinpoint those mages immediately.

Just as Philip was about to lead his group back to the inn and prepare for a siege, a translucent scroll suddenly materialized before him.

[Urgent Mission]

Defeat the Followers of Demon God Azra

Reward: 9,000 Points
Time Limit: 2 Days

Philip’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately reached out to Mau.

‘Mau, what is this?’

‘So… necromancers?’

‘Either way, I just have to wipe them out and I’ll get 9,000 points, huh?’

Philip scoffed.

Like he had a choice.

They were already under attack—there was no avoiding a fight.

Without hesitation, he accepted the mission and rushed to prepare for battle.

“Close the doors! Barricade the windows!”

“Move those tables over! We need to reinforce the entrance!”

“Non-combatants, take cover in the cellar!”

“Milord, who are these people?”

“Who the hell knows? All I know is they’re attacking us—so if they get close, we kill them.”

The attackers were numerous, and from the way they moved, they were skilled.

But Philip had an advantage—gunpowder weapons.

Even if they couldn’t outright win, they just had to hold out long enough.

‘Sooner or later, the Royal Army or the Mage Tower will notice the barrier and respond.’

All they needed to do was buy time—once reinforcements arrived, the enemy would be wiped out.

“Will we… really be able to hold out?”

Midas, who had taken shelter in the inn’s cellar, looked to Helen and Liberta with concern.

“I don’t know… but we have to.”

Helen, suppressing her nerves, finished loading a musket pistol Philip had given her.

Seeing this, Liberta asked curiously,

“You know how to use that?”

“Yes. Milord taught me.”

After nearly dying in a monster attack on their journey to the capital, Philip had insisted she keep a pistol for protection.

She had even practiced firing it a few times.

‘I just hope I never have to use it…’

BOOM! CRASH!

A thunderous explosion shook the inn violently.

Helen flinched.

She didn’t know it, but the assassin mages had just unleashed Dark Spear on the building.

Black projectiles, ranging from fist-sized to head-sized, pelted the inn, shattering walls and blasting apart windows.

Philip and his men hit the floor, dodging flying debris.

“Those bastards!”

Grinding his teeth, Philip shouted to his men.

“Status report! Is everyone okay?”

“Three soldiers injured, sir!”

“Get them down to the cellar—NOW!”

As Philip issued orders, Siria approached him.

“Milord, shouldn’t we fight back? At this rate, the whole building’s coming down!”

“It’s fine. It won’t collapse that easily.”

Philip wanted to counterattack just as badly, but there was a problem.

They still hadn’t pinpointed the mages’ locations, and the swordsmen hadn’t yet moved into musket range.

His soldiers relied on firearms—firing prematurely would just waste precious ammunition.

‘Magic isn’t limitless either…’

Sure enough, the Dark Spear barrage abruptly ceased.

Then, the masked swordsmen charged in.

“Hold your fire. Not yet.”

A nervous soldier raised his musket—Philip snapped at him.

“Wait. Hold.”

Philip remained calm, watching as the enemy rushed forward.

Only when they entered optimal range did he finally give the order.

“NOW! OPEN FIRE!”

TATATATATA—!

The deafening roar of musket fire filled the air as over ten lead bullets tore through the charging assassins.

“Gaaaah!”

“Kuh…urk!”

The frontline attackers crumpled to the ground, blood spurting from their wounds.

At such a close range, the bullets not only pierced the first row but also struck those behind them, causing multiple casualties with each shot.

“I-Impossible…!”

The remaining assassins hesitated, stunned by the unfamiliar weapons that spat thunder and fire.

That hesitation was their mistake.

Before they could regain their momentum, a second volley of coordinated musket fire ripped through them.

This time, the rear gunners fired, having taken their time to aim.

Since the enemies had paused in shock, they were easy targets.

“Arghhh!”

“S-Shit! Keep moving! Charge! Charge!!”

These weren’t ordinary fighters.

Trained in the harshest conditions, these assassins did not scatter like panicked lizardmen.

Clenching their teeth, they forced their way through the smoke, rushing toward the gunners before they could reload.

“You won’t get past us!”

“AAARGH!!”

Arrows flew as Andy and five archers loosed their shots, buying time for the musketeers to reload.

At the same time, Terry and Siria drew their swords and rushed into the chaos.

“Die, you little—!”

SLASH!!

The assassin never finished his sentence—because Terry cleaved him in half.

In a single stroke, his aura-infused blade sliced the attacker cleanly in two.

Terry whirled around, cutting down three more in rapid succession.

“T-That aura… He’s an Expert High Rank!”

“Why the hell is someone of his caliber here?!”

Even among elite knights, an Expert High Rank swordsman was commander-level—someone who could lead a royal guard division.

And yet, here he was, slaughtering assassins like livestock.

But their shock didn’t end there.

A tattooed woman stormed in with twin blades, decapitating one assassin and disemboweling another in an instant.

“She’s a Tattooed Warrior! Watch out!”

With Terry and Siria cutting through their ranks, the remaining knights and soldiers rallied, pushing back the assassins with swords and spears.

“Don’t falter! Push them back!”

“Show them the Brandel Army’s spirit!”

Having fought off monsters in the Prill Mountains for years, Philip’s soldiers had already hardened their resolve.

With their training and discipline, they fought like wild beasts, overpowering the assassins in sheer ferocity.

Watching from the rear, Musette’s smile faded.

Thick smoke and gunpowder stench hung in the air, obscuring the battlefield.

His men had charged with confidence, yet dozens now lay dead.

‘What the hell…?’

He could sense their emotions—not just anger and frustration, but confusion and fear.

And that fear was coming from his own assassins.

‘What kind of attack was that? That wasn’t aura.’

To take down this many assassins so quickly, it had to be either magic or an exceptionally powerful aura wielder.

A ballista or siege weapon might have been an explanation—but nothing that large had been spotted.

“…They must have some kind of powerful weapon.”

It didn’t matter.

Their escape was impossible, the surrounding perimeter remained secure, and his remaining forces were still overwhelming.

Even if they rallied, they wouldn’t last under a prolonged magical assault.

“They won’t hold forever.”

He turned to the mages.

“Resume the siege magic. Break down the inn.”

“As you command.”

Dark spheres of destruction began forming once more.

‘Let’s see how long they last this time.’