The Lord Just Wants to Have Fun

A week had passed since Philip’s party left Baron Brandel’s territory.

Their journey had been smooth so far—contrary to their concerns, they hadn’t encountered any bandits or monsters.

“Ugh, I’m bored. Can’t some brave bandits show up or something?”

“Don’t say nonsense like that.”

Helen scolded Siria, who was complaining out of boredom.

After their encounter with the Gnolls in the mountains, Helen had been genuinely shaken.

“But I didn’t get hurt, did I?”

“Hmph!”

Helen shot her a sharp glare, making Siria go quiet before turning her gaze toward the landscape outside the carriage.

In the fields, farmers were gathering leftover grains after the harvest, but they all looked emaciated, their clothes tattered.

“My lord, it looks like things aren’t any better here than in other territories.”

“It’s probably due to the three-year drought…”

Philip frowned at the sight outside.

Not every territory was like this, but in many places, the farmers looked impoverished.

What was even stranger was that, even though this year’s harvest hadn’t failed, the people’s expressions were grim, their eyes lifeless.

‘Are the lords even paying attention to their people’s lives? No wonder there are so many displaced refugees.’

Leaving behind the pitiful farmers, Philip’s party continued toward the royal capital, eventually reaching a large river.

“This is the Dunai River, which runs east to west across the kingdom. From here, we can take a boat to the capital.”

Helen’s explanation made Philip’s face light up.

He had grown tired of riding in a carriage for so long.

At the port, they paid the fare and boarded a regular ferry bound for the capital.

‘It’s about the same size as a Han River cruise ship… but it has side paddles? Does it have some kind of engine?’

Seeing that there was no smokestack, Philip figured it wasn’t steam-powered.

Curious, he immediately sought out the captain.

“What’s the power source for this ship?”

“Oh, it’s something very special. Would you like to see?”

“Absolutely!”

The captain, clearly proud of his vessel, eagerly led Philip to the engine room.

And what he saw was…

“Moo!”

Inside, six massive Minotaurs were furiously turning crankshafts to power the paddle wheels.

Seeing this, Philip couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“…I thought you’d be using magic.”

“We do use magic! We brainwashed them with magic to make them obedient and docile!”

The captain boasted about how only ten such self-propelled ships existed in the entire kingdom, how they were created with the help of the kingdom’s greatest sage and Dwarven engineers, and so on.

Philip half-listened before heading back outside.

“Seriously? I was expecting some kind of magical engine.”

At Mau’s sudden comment, Philip scowled.

‘Hey, even I can’t make an engine.’

‘Well… that’s just a theoretical idea.’

It was still just a plan.

A functioning prototype would require years of research and development.

As Philip was about to explain this to Mau, a sudden commotion arose from the bow of the ship.

“There’s a person floating in the river!”

Hearing that, Philip hurried over to check.

Sure enough, a human figure was floating downstream, motionless.

Judging by the lack of movement, it appeared to be a corpse.

“Looks like someone drowned in the river.”

“A priest, no less… How did this happen?”

As Philip and the others muttered, Mau, who had been quietly observing, suddenly widened his eyes in shock.

‘Why? So we can bury them properly?’

As Mau’s urgent voice rang out, a semi-transparent scroll appeared before Philip’s eyes.

Mission: Rescue the person drifting in the river.

Reward: 100 Points / Mystery Box /

‘Who the hell is this person to trigger an emergency mission?’

Though Philip wasn’t sure, he wanted the points.

Without hesitation, he tore off his shirt and dove into the river.

“My lord! What are you doing—?!”

“Get a rope! Quickly!”

From the deck, his subordinates panicked and scrambled for equipment.

Meanwhile, Philip swam toward the drifting cleric, grabbing hold of them.

“Huh? A woman?”

The unconscious priest was, in fact, a young girl—a beautiful novice cleric.

******

“This Goddess is disappointed in humans.”

With those words, Arkina, the Water Goddess, had sealed herself away, isolating herself from the Water Temple.

For abandoning her divine duties, she was cast down to earth as punishment, exiled from the realm of the gods.

Using the body of a deceased girl, she reincarnated and took on the identity of Liberta, a novice cleric.

She had sworn to enlighten the foolish humans once more.

But her journey was far from smooth.

“Uuugh! Uuuugh—!”

“Burn the witch!”

Egged on by agitators, the crowd hurled insults and jeers at her.

Despite being dragged away in chains, Liberta held her head high, maintaining a proud and dignified posture.

Some among the crowd whispered in curiosity.

“Who is she? What crime did she commit to face the Inquisition?”

“A cleric? No, she’s a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Yes. She went around preaching that humans and monsters are the same while leading a band of mixed-blood monsters!”

Not only that, but she had also cursed slave overseers, freezing them with magic, and liberated enslaved hybrids.

When the local lords’ soldiers and priests intervened, she had cursed them too.

“They say hundreds of troops suddenly collapsed from extreme thirst!”

“What?! She drained their life force?!”

“Exactly! She’s a monster!”

“That’s terrifying. How did they even capture her?”

“Apparently, after casting so many curses, she collapsed from exhaustion.”

A passing traveler overheard the tale and frowned.

Something didn’t add up.

If she had been draining life force, wouldn’t she have become stronger, not weaker?

“And the freed slaves? What happened to them?”

“Those filthy half-breeds fled while she was fighting the Inquisitors.”

As the traveler pondered the inconsistencies, Liberta was dragged to an execution site by the river.

A high-ranking priest from the Water Church stood as her judge.

“Witch! Do you acknowledge your sins?!”

“I am not a witch, nor have I committed any crimes.”

“How dare you!”

The priest’s voice rose in fury, echoed by the crowd’s shouts and curses.

Yet Liberta remained unshaken.

“I have harmed no one. If I am guilty of anything, it is of merely watching in silence.”

Her voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it resonated clearly, silencing everyone.

Even the angry priests and the jeering mob fell quiet.

“I turned a blind eye when you watered down holy water and sold it at exorbitant prices to the sick. I ignored your lies and distortions of divine will, which you used to deceive and manipulate people.”

At these words, some of the priests flinched, while the high-ranking priest trembled with rage, his face turning red.

But Liberta continued.

“You are foolish, arrogant, and selfish. Yet, despite it all, I believed in you. I hoped that you would change.”

But humans never changed.

For centuries, they continued to betray their gods, concerned only with satisfying their own greed.

Humans had long slaughtered beasts, wielding swords indiscriminately against monsters simply because they were different.

Now, they had turned on each other—fighting, killing, and plundering as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You have disappointed the Goddess of Water. That is why she has turned her back on you. And if you still refuse to awaken from your ignorance, you shall face divine retribution.”

“Sh-shut up! How dare you—!”

The High Priest, who was about to shout her down, suddenly froze when his eyes met Liberta’s.

It was the same overwhelming presence he had felt in the sanctuary of the Grand Temple, when receiving the goddess’s oracle.

‘Th-this is impossible! She’s just a heretical witch… a blasphemer who dares to invoke the name of the divine!’

As a servant of the gods, he could not allow such a corrupt being to live.

Determined, he turned to the knights guarding the execution site and barked,

“What are you waiting for?! Execute the witch immediately! Let her face the judgment of water!”

The Judgment of Water was the Water Church’s favored method of execution.

It was also used to determine whether someone was a witch—if they floated, they were confirmed to be a witch and executed; if they sank, they were proven innocent, but obviously, they would already be dead by then.

‘Wait… so they die either way?’

A passing traveler, listening to the murmurs of the crowd, couldn’t help but find it ridiculous.

However, he kept his mouth shut.

If the priests or knights overheard him, he might end up in the same position as Liberta.

At the High Priest’s command, the knights hesitated before stepping forward, their faces pale with fear.

‘What if this witch curses us again…?’

‘I never want to experience that burning pain in my throat again…’

Fortunately for them, Liberta appeared completely drained, showing no signs of resistance.

Taking this as a relief, the knights tied a heavy stone to her feet and threw her into the river.

SPLASH!

“Ooh! She sank!”

“Now we wait… will she drown or rise again?”

“If she’s a true witch, she might even crawl back up!”

For the crowd, who had little entertainment in their lives, executions like this were a spectacle, nothing more than a grim form of amusement.

Bubbles rose from the depths of the Dunai River.

Just as people were about to assume she had drowned, the water suddenly surged violently.

RUMBLE!

“W-what’s happening?!”

“I don’t know… but we should run!”

BOOOOM!

Just as the more quick-witted members of the crowd began stepping back, an enormous wave erupted from the river, smashing into the execution platform and sweeping away the priests and knights.

“UWAAGH! Help me!”

“I CAN’T SWIM! SOMEBODY SAVE ME!”

Panic erupted as people scrambled for their lives.

As they desperately struggled, Liberta emerged from the waters once more.

“FOOLISH HUMANS, RECEIVE YOUR PUNISHMENT!”

Her hair, now wild and unbound, whipped in the wind as her glowing eyes burned with divine wrath.

She stretched out her hand, and once again, the raging river surged forward, engulfing the struggling priests and knights.

“AAARGH! Have mercy, Great Witch! Please forgive us!”

“N-no! Could it be… She’s…?!”

The High Priest, realizing too late, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, he was swallowed by the rising waters.

SPLASH!

With her vengeance complete, Liberta lost consciousness, collapsing back into the river.

But as the horrified crowd fled, no one noticed her body drifting downstream—a solitary figure, lost to the current.