The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 109

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 109. The Madman’s Rampage (1)
Like Herald, who had visited Whitewolf Territory, the personal status of Royal Knights members was not particularly high.
However, Royal Knights who guarded the royal family were different.
The moment they were assigned to protect the royal family, they borrowed the authority of the royal house itself.
Therefore, attacking such Royal Knights constituted a grave matter equivalent to treason.
Yet my hesitation in taking action stemmed from elsewhere entirely.
First, Walter’s provocation was severe enough that even the Imperial Army would yield ground.
Second, my promise with Iliana.
A promise to endure all the political pressure that Baron Segretus could bring to bear.
And the third and final reason—
‘They cannot possibly hold me accountable.’
I knew the Royal Court could never charge me with a crime.
After all, Queen Marceline’s true objective was not me.
Her objective was Seraphia.
Specifically, Seraphia’s debut in Royal Society.
But not just anyone could debut in Royal Society.
Those of low status could not even participate.
Even if one possessed high status, those with problematic histories were barred entirely from entry.
Royal Society had even expelled a duke’s daughter merely for shabby attire.
If they held me accountable here?
I would be branded with the crime of ‘treason.’
As the legitimate heir, my becoming a traitor would make House Whitewolf a traitor’s house.
Seraphia, belonging to House Whitewolf, would become the daughter of a traitor’s family.
The daughter of a traitor’s family debuting in Royal Society?
‘Impossible.’
In other words, all of Queen Marceline’s carefully laid schemes and machinations would crumble to dust.
With The King bedridden by illness now,
there was no way Queen Marceline, acting as regent, would hold me accountable.
But if, contrary to expectations, Queen Marceline did hold me responsible?
It still mattered not.
After all, I had no intention of laying a hand on Walter.
I had justification—that Walter had insulted me.
A royal could not simply insult a nobleman.
Especially not one of count rank or higher.
In a formal trial, the charge might not extend to treason.
There would be no impediment to my succession as count.
However, I would have to endure the troublesome ordeal of a formal trial—
‘A small price.’
In exchange, Queen Marceline would be forced to abandon all her schemes.
And that was not all.
The Darkness Lord’s scheme crumbles entirely.
And with it, The Emperor’s machinations collapse as well.
So then.
◆I activate the transcendent skill, Berserk [?].
◆[Sanity] – 106
◆Berserk [?] is applied at rank [B-].
◆The skill Metabolic Acceleration [C+] is upgraded to rank [B-].
◆The combination skill, ‘Metabolic Rampage [U]’ transcends its limits!!
Now the Imperial Army would finally understand why they gnashed their teeth whenever they saw me.
◆I activate the ultra-combination skill, Cardiac Acceleration [E]!
‘You picked the wrong person to mess with.’
I’m going to show the Imperial Army exactly why they call me the Predator of Madness.
* * *
To attack the Royal Knights who guard the royal family within the Palace—
Such an act could only be construed as an assault upon the royal family itself.
Yet Walter felt no anger.
Instead of rage, he felt ‘bewilderment.’
The original plan was not supposed to unfold like this.
Adrian, the reckless scion of House Whitewolf.
A name no nobleman of the Battenberg Kingdom could fail to know.
The original scheme was to provoke Adrian’s emotions, goad the fool into lashing out and striking Walter.
Laying hands upon the royal family constituted treason.
A grave crime regardless of justification.
By exposing Adrian’s recklessness before the entire court, he would become the kingdom’s laughingstock.
This would shatter Adrian’s authority, etch his incompetence into the public consciousness, and deal a serious blow to his succession of the countship.
If only that could be accomplished—
Baron Segretus had promised generous rewards.
In addition to strengthening his position within the Palace, Walter would receive certain future privileges and concessions.
Walter was the third prince and last in the line of succession.
But if he could secure the backing of Baron Segretus, the kingdom’s chancellor, he could gain an advantage in the competition.
The plan was flawless. Moreover, it was simple.
Adrian was a fool, so his response would be predictable.
Indeed, Adrian’s recklessness had unfolded exactly as planned.
But everything after that—
CRASH!!!
—was spiraling completely beyond his expectations.
Ellen, struck without warning.
Embedded in the Palace wall, Ellen remained unconscious.
He couldn’t fathom what Adrian had done or how he’d attacked.
All that remained was Ellen’s armor, torn to shreds like paper.
“Your negligence in duty just cost your master his life once over.”
Adrian moved forward with measured, deliberate steps.
As he walked toward Ellen, pinned against the wall, he didn’t spare Walter so much as a glance.
Yet Walter found himself utterly unable to speak.
“…Gasp!”
A crushing pressure, as though invisible hands were wringing his heart.
His breath caught in his throat, and his body refused to obey him.
He wanted to speak, but his throat constricted, and no sound emerged.
Adrian’s overwhelming presence.
It felt like an insurmountable wall he dared not challenge.
“Vice-Commander!”
The other Royal Knights’ officers cried out.
They drew their blades in unison, unleashing a sharp, cutting aura toward Adrian.
“How dare you! Do you know where you are?!”
“A ruffian like you has no place here!!”
“I’ll end your miserable life and cleanse the kingdom of your filth!!”
Furious shouts reverberated through the Palace Hall.
But Adrian remained unmoved.
He regarded them with unwavering composure before slowly parting his lips.
“Do the Royal Knights butter their bread with courtesy instead of manners?”
In that instant, an intangible force erupted from Adrian.
Not a breath of wind stirred within the palace.
Yet Adrian’s garments billowed and fluttered dramatically.
Whoosh, whoosh!
A crimson aura surged across Adrian’s entire form in an instant.
It was stripping away every trace of humanity from him.
His eyes no longer gleamed with blood—they burned with madness.
An oppressive force radiated from his entire being.
It evoked something that transcended human existence.
Every Royal Knight froze in place.
…That aura was not of human origin.
This was no mere ruffian’s power—it was something far beyond such a thing.
“Ugh, uuaahhh!”
Walter screamed and collapsed to the ground.
He couldn’t even muster the thought to flee.
Then, at that very moment.
“…Cough.”
Ellen, who had been embedded in the wall, stirred and rose to his feet.
His armor was torn, blood trickling down his forehead.
Yet Ellen showed no sign of losing his composure.
“Ellen…! Ellen!”
Walter’s voice cracked with barely suppressed tears as he shouted.
Ellen had been careless just moments ago.
If Ellen fought properly, he could dispatch that ruffian in a single breath.
“K-kill that bastard right now!!”
Walter screamed with unwavering conviction.
But that conviction of his—
Crash!
The Palace Hall walls crumbled to dust with a deafening roar.
* * *
“Cough…!!”
Ellen crashed into the wall again, gasping out an ungainly cry.
Everyone stood frozen in shock.
But the one most shocked was Ellen himself.
‘Just now….’
I took a blow to the abdomen.
But when? No—with what?
Not for a single instant, not with anything—
‘Did I fail to perceive it…?’
That impossible speed left me reeling in disbelief.
That confusion froze my movements solid.
Crack!
I couldn’t react to Adrian’s swinging fist a second time.
My face caved inward from the impact, and broken teeth mixed with blood sprayed from my mouth.
A tremendous shock that threatened to shatter consciousness itself.
But the position of vice-commander of the Royal Knights was never won through mere luck.
My mind snapped into focus, and my thoughts accelerated.
Adrian was no opponent to take lightly.
He was a formidable foe.
I cast aside the image of him as some reckless brute from the Count’s house.
I steadied myself by anchoring my core.
I locked my waist firmly and redirected all my strength into my thighs.
Aura flowed through my entire body.
I condensed that power to the tip of my blade and unleashed it in a single fluid draw.
Fierce King’s Sword. Third Form.
Regal Slash.
A wave of aura erupted from the blade’s edge.
The surrounding air stilled for an instant, then shook violently.
Adrian did not evade.
As if he had been waiting, his fingernails sharpened to deadly points—
‘…Fingernails?’
Surely he wasn’t planning to block it with his fingernails?
Calling him stupid would be an insult to the word itself.
The Regal Slash—a sword technique passed down through generations of the Royal Knights, the Blade of the Fierce Monarch.
The supreme swordsmanship honed through centuries of actual combat woven into the kingdom’s very history.
Among these techniques, the Regal Slash is a skill that detonates aura in a single explosive burst the moment the blade is drawn.
This is not an attack that can be blocked.
Only an Aura Blade—the mark of a Master—could stand against it.
That is the minimum requirement to oppose such a technique.
Yet he dared attempt to block it with mere fingernails?
Perhaps Adrian wasn’t a complete madman after all.
But he was certainly an inexperienced youth with virtually no real combat experience, and his instantaneous judgment was clearly that of a simpleton.
Adrian’s fingernails sliced through the air as they swept forward.
And there—blade met nail.
…Yet it was I who was being pushed back.
*Crackle-crack-crack!*
The aura concentrated in Ellen’s blade tore asunder.
“Impossible!!”
The exclamation burst forth unbidden.
How could mere human fingernails accomplish such a thing?
How could nails meant only for scratching an itch achieve this?
Adrian’s fingernails were equivalent to an Aura Blade…?
No, it was far more than that.
Adrian’s ability to tear through the Regal Slash wasn’t merely the power of his nails alone.
The trajectory of the blade, the flow of aura.
And even the intent and movement woven into the attack itself.
Adrian calculated every single element and responded in a single breath.
A battle sense and instinct honed to absolute perfection.
This was not mere strength.
It was the result of judgment accumulated through countless real battles and experiences.
As the saying goes, one sees only what one knows.
As vice-commander of the Royal Knights, I too have experienced numerous missions and battlefields.
I can claim to possess experience and skill second to none.
…Yet still, I cannot see it.
I cannot even begin to fathom the depths of his power.
How many battlefields must one traverse to reach such a realm?
How many brushes with death must one survive to achieve such mastery?
“Ugh…!”
I gritted my teeth.
I had to reconsider everything once more.
It’s almost impossible to believe—.
‘…A direct confrontation won’t work.’
Ellen hastily widened the distance between us.
I steadied my combat stance and exhaled deeply.
But Adrian gave no opening, immediately stomping the ground beneath him.
The Palace Hall’s floor shattered, and the impact shook the entire Royal Palace as if an earthquake had struck.
The magnitude of the blast and explosion.
…It exceeded all imagination.
‘Danger!’
Ellen reflexively drew his sword and swung it—.
Whoosh, whirrr.
Articulations of movement no human could ever achieve followed in succession.
Adrian’s movements were unnaturally fluid and swift, as if his body possessed no friction whatsoever.
‘Is that… even a movement that makes sense?’
Yet Adrian executed it effortlessly.
He slipped smoothly beyond the reach of Ellen’s attack.
And.
‘I lost him…?’
It wasn’t merely because of his speed and bizarre movements.
As if Adrian had evaporated entirely, I couldn’t perceive him visually at all.
Death unseen.
It pierces through Ellen’s heart.
BOOM!!
The sound of a rubber ball bursting echoed, and Ellen’s body convulsed.
“Ghaaaaah!!”
The level… was different.
The playing field itself was different.
Ellen was undoubtedly one of the most skilled warriors within Battenberg Kingdom.
But if the stage expanded to encompass the entire Continent?
Ellen’s position wouldn’t even rank among the middle tier.
For there were many geniuses like Ellen scattered across this Continent.
No—there were countless who surpassed Ellen.
When casting one’s gaze across the entire Continent, Ellen was merely one among countless geniuses.
But Adrian was different.
Adrian gazed toward distant horizons, burning with quiet fury.
If Ellen was the water of a well, then Adrian was the water of a river.
Even if its current flowed gently now.
Even if its stream appeared diminished now.
The river flows quietly, ever onward.
Someday, without fail.
You are destined to meet the sea.
‘This… this can’t be…!’
Ellen could only comprehend how small and powerless he was before the vast ocean.
* * *
The Banquet Hall where the Royal Society was being held.
Tables adorned with gold leaf were arranged neatly in the center, while soft candlelight and elegant fragrances filled every corner, adding an air of nobility to the space.
Palace attendants moved busily throughout the Banquet Hall.
Queen Marceline issued instructions to the palace attendants.
“Move the candelabra a bit more to the left, and adjust the lighting so it’s not too bright.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Ensure the decorations are not excessive, but maintain their dignity. The flowers on the tables must exude elegance.”
Just as she was inspecting these details of the Banquet Hall.
Boom…!!
As if an earthquake had struck, the entire Banquet Hall trembled.
Followed by a deafening roar.
Queen Marceline stopped her instructions and turned her head.
“What is happening?”
In response to her question, an attendant standing near the door approached cautiously with a flustered expression.
“There appears to be a disturbance in the Palace Hall.”
“A disturbance?”
“It seems there was a confrontation involving Prince Walter.”
Queen Marceline’s expression hardened.
On a day when the kingdom’s high nobility gathered for the Royal Society.
Any blemish on the order of the Royal Palace would directly tarnish the authority of the Royal Court.
That would inevitably raise questions about the Royal Court’s control.
She did not know which madman was causing a disturbance in the Royal Palace, but it mattered not.
Whoever it was would never be forgiven.
Especially for laying hands on a prince.
It was a direct challenge to the authority of the Royal Court, and she had no intention of showing mercy… but.
“The young master of House Whitewolf is savagely beating Sir Ellen, who was escorting Prince Walter, it seems…”
The attendant’s continued words froze Queen Marceline’s thoughts.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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