'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

Mize kept his eyes on the scenery outside, his fingers lazily drumming against the windowsill.

The further they went, the more the landscape changed, rolling hills, thick forests, and scattered clearings filled with all sorts of resources.

Lumber camps with workers hacking away at trees, quarries where men hauled slabs of stone, small farms stretching across patches of land.

It was all organized, but in a way that made it look natural, like the world had just grown into the perfect setup for a flourishing territory.

If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think this was just untouched wilderness.

Mize, of course, knew better.

He turned his head slightly, eyeing the butler at the front of the carriage. “So, how’s Liam running this place? What kind of rules does he have?”

The butler barely reacted, only shifting his grip on the reins slightly.

“Our Lord values freedom, My Lady,” he answered smoothly. “Citizens are free to work as they please, start businesses, and manage their affairs as long as they contribute a portion to the territory. In return, they receive protection, resources, and the ability to live without fear"

Mize hummed, twirling a strand of his long black hair between his fingers. “Sounds a bit too good to be true.”

The butler simply smiled. “It is His Lordship’s will.”

Mize rolled his eyes. That was Liam for you, crafting a perfect little utopia where everyone adored their benevolent ruler.

“Just a guy trying to show me the pretty side of things,” he muttered. “Typical.”

The butler chuckled. “The Lord has spoken often of you, My Lady. He has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Mize sighed, tilting his head against the seat. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

For a while, the soft clatter of the carriage wheels filled the silence.

The town was coming into view now, rooftops peeking over the horizon, but before they got there, curiosity got the better of Mize.

“Hey,” he called out, resting his chin on his hand. “Before you got here… what were you doing? Were you always a butler?”

The butler stilled, just for a second.

It was barely noticeable, but Mize caught it.

Then, just as quickly, he was back to his usual calm. “Yes, My Lady. In my previous life, I served as a butler for a Viscount in a human empire"

Mize raised a brow. “So, you’re from another world?”

“That is correct,” the butler replied smoothly. “Most of us are.”

Mize blinked. Now that was something he wasn’t expecting.

‘System, explain.’

[The Lord Authority is unique. , the lords may calls upon the Forgotten Echoes, souls who have died in other worlds and seek purpose.]

Mize frowned slightly. ‘And that makes them loyal?’

[Yes. The Lord does not simply summon them, he grants them meaning. For those who perished lost and directionless, his call is irresistible]

Mize let out a slow exhale.

Of course.

Liam wasn’t just gathering people, he was building a damn narrative.

A grand, larger-than-life story where he was the savior, the one who gave everyone a second chance.

And Mize?

He was the centerpiece of it all.

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, shaking off the thought. “That guy is way too good at this.”

The butler glanced at him. “Pardon, My Lady?”

“Nothing,” Mize dismissed, waving a hand.

Outside, the town was growing closer.

Unlike the towering castle, the town had a more lived-in feel, sturdy wooden houses, cobblestone streets, bustling markets.

People moved about, merchants shouting their wares, kids darting between stalls, and workers hauling supplies.

It was lively.

A real, breathing place.

Mize’s lips curled into a small smirk.

“Alright then,” he muttered. “Let’s see what this place has to offer.”

Mize slouched deeper into his seat, arms crossed, lips slightly pursed as the town finally came into full view.

From a distance, it was just a shadowed outline against the horizon, but now, walls, streets, movement, everything snapped into focus.

The first thing he noticed was the walls. They weren’t bad, made of stone and wood, standing tall enough to keep out small threats, but compared to the castle’s massive black steel fortifications?

It felt like comparing a sturdy fence to an actual fortress.

“Decent enough,” he murmured, head tilting slightly as his eyes scanned the perimeter. “But will it hold up for the upcoming event?”

The butler up front pretended not to hear, wisely choosing silence over commenting.

Mize tapped his fingers against his arm, thoughts drifting. ‘And another thing… where the hell are those power ranking points coming from?’

From what he’d seen so far, the number of stationed troops didn’t seem massive, certainly not enough to justify that ridiculous placement in the rankings.

So where was all that power being counted from?

He sighed, shaking his head. He’d figure it out later.

For now, they had arrived.

The moment the carriage rolled up to the town’s gates, the stationed guards instantly straightened, gripping their spears tightly as they saluted.

Their armor was polished and uniform, same black steel as the castle guards, same insignia, same disciplined stance.

Good. At least there wasn’t any glaring difference in equipment quality between the castle and town forces.

One of the guards hurriedly stamped an entry permit, barely sparing a second before the heavy wooden gates groaned open.

And that’s when the real spectacle began.

The town was alive.

People bustled through the wide streets, merchants yelling out the day’s prices, the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat thick in the air.

The rhythmic clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rang from somewhere deeper within, blending into the chorus of everyday life.

And yet, despite the lively atmosphere, an eerie hush fell the second the Lord’s carriage rolled in.

The crowd instinctively parted, some out of respect, others out of sheer curiosity.

No one moved too far away, though. Instead, whispers rippled through the air, hushed but frantic, spreading like wildfire.

"Who is that?"

"Is it the Lord?"

"No way, the Lord never announces his arrival, he just appears and disappears like a ghost."

"But look at the emblem. That’s definitely the Lord’s crest."

"The winged black serpent, Yeah, it’s on the back of the carriage."

"Wait… could it be the First Lady?"

"The soldiers did mention she arrived an hour ago"

The murmurs only grew louder, excitement lacing their voices.

Inside the carriage, Mize exhaled through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"They’re gawking," he muttered, watching the passing faces through the window.

The butler chuckled from the driver’s seat. “They are simply eager to meet you, My Lady.”

Mize shot him a dry look. “Eager? They’re acting like they just saw a mythical beast.”

He turned his attention back to the town itself.

It was structured, organized, far from the chaotic sprawl he’d half-expected.

The roads stretched in a massive cross, leading directly to the four main gates.

The marketplace was centralized, packed with stalls and permanent shops, while residential areas sprawled further in the background, neatly divided.

Despite the medieval setting, there was a strange, almost modern cleanliness to everything.

The streets weren’t cluttered with trash, flower beds lined the pathways, and small fountains sat at key intersections, giving a polished touch to the town’s layout.

Mize nodded slowly, eyes flickering across each detail. “Liam did a good job.”

“Of course,” the butler agreed smoothly. “While Minister Elias oversees daily governance, all major city planning was personally guided by the Lord’s vision.”

Mize paused, brow furrowing slightly.

"Shouldn’t Elias be capable of handling that on his own? He’s a scholar, isn’t he?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then, the butler let out a small cough. “Ah… My Lady…”

Mize narrowed his eyes. “What?”

A nervous smile flickered across the butler’s face. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding.”

Mize stared.

The butler cleared his throat. “Sir Elias is not a scholar.”

“…What.”

“He is a General,” the butler clarified. “A former war commander, much like General Halb.”

Mize felt his soul leave his body for a moment.

“…Excuse me?”

The butler, still smiling in that ever-polite way, inclined his head. “Sir Elias was a renowned strategist in his previous world. The Lord saw potential in him, not just for war, but for governance as well.”

Mize inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “So let me get this straight. The guy I assumed was some bookish administrator is actually… a military leader?”

“That is correct, My Lady.”

Mize groaned, sinking further into his seat.

“…What the hell is wrong with this territory?” 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The butler chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “That, My Lady, is merely one of the many insights into the Lord’s brilliant ideas.”

His grip tightened on the reins, giving the horse a light flick.

The massive creatures snorted, their fiery manes flaring as they pressed forward.

Mize hummed, her gaze fixed on the bustling scenery outside. "Brilliant ideas, huh?"

There was a tinge of skepticism in her voice, but she masked it well, letting her words flow out casually.

"Well, I suppose having a general and a minister in one person works wonders for him."

"I-I suppose so… hahaha," the butler responded, though his laughter carried a faint trace of nervousness.

Mize smirked. The poor guy caught the jab, but at least he had the sense to not push further.

The ride wasn’t long, but the streets kept her entertained. Every so often, another carriage would pass, drawn by similar warhorse-like beasts, their hooves clattering against the paved stone roads.

The width of the streets was impressive, enough to fit several carriages side by side without causing congestion.

Liam’s design truly was something. Even Mize, who didn’t typically hand out praise so easily, had to admit it.

Before long, they approached a large, intricately carved gate leading into an underground tunnel.

Mize's gaze flickered over the structure, taking in the fine craftsmanship.

The entrance was smooth, polished, and unnervingly grand.

“…Is this the place?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yes, My Lady,” the butler confirmed, stepping down from the driver’s seat.

He moved swiftly, circling to the carriage door and lowering the small staircase with practiced ease.

Mize, however, remained seated, her gaze lingering on the tunnel’s entrance.

‘It looks more like a tomb than an altar… and why the hell is it underground?’

She narrowed her eyes, scanning the stationed soldiers.

Their armor bore a slightly different design from the ones she had seen at the castle and city gates. A step above, perhaps?

Mize sighed. Whatever. She’d figure it out soon enough.

With an unhurried grace, she descended the carriage steps, ducking slightly as she emerged.

But before fully stepping out, her gaze flickered toward the side, toward the gathering crowd of curious onlookers.

Men, women, even children, wide-eyed and whispering.

She clicked her tongue.

"And please," she added smoothly, gesturing lazily toward the growing audience, "rid me of those gawking eyes."

Her crimson gaze sharpened slightly as she met the butler’s eyes.

"I do not wish to be looked at right now."

The butler stiffened at the subtle shift in her tone. Then, with a sharp nod, he turned, issuing a silent command to the nearest guard.

The soldiers didn’t hesitate.

A mere moment later, the murmuring crowd began dispersing as if an invisible force had gently pushed them away.