The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 198

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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 198. Prosperity (2)
Whispers rippled through the crowds regarding the Royal Decree on Relocation Support.
The news spread beyond the Outer City, sweeping through the streets of Battenberg in mere moments.
“Is it true? The Royal Court is permitting relocation?”
“This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to change our fate, couldn’t it?”
And well it might be—serfs had always faced restrictions on where they could settle.
Their very persons were bound to their lords or nobles, leaving them powerless to relocate at will.
Both by law and custom, they were tethered to the land itself.
Above all, serfs were the foundation of production.
The grain they cultivated became the Territory’s taxes.
Their labor built the Castle Walls and sustained the soldiers.
A serf’s relocation amounted to nothing less than the weakening of a Territory, and lords were acutely sensitive to any loss of their peasant populations.
“Is the Royal Court truly providing support for this?”
“The royal seal is plainly stamped right here.”
To actively encourage relocation with such support was unprecedented.
“Why not seize this chance and begin anew?”
“If we could finally own land to leave to our children….”
Hope began to kindle among the people.
Yet doubt and concern soon followed.
“But why specifically Whitewolf Territory?”
A barren land where bitter cold persisted year-round.
It was known as a region at the very threshold of survival, unsuitable for habitation.
“Crops won’t even grow there—how would anyone survive?”
“Isn’t this just telling us to go freeze to death?”
“Ah… now I understand.”
“The support money wasn’t charity after all.”
Interest among the people began to fade.
Hope-tinged anticipation quickly sank into distrust.
“But didn’t Beneron Barony merge with Whitewolf Territory just a few months ago?”
Not until someone voiced this observation.
“Beneron Barony was a Territory in the Frozen Tundra Zone, wasn’t it?”
“Crops could be cultivated there to some degree, couldn’t they?”
“Livestock herding should be possible too?”
“Livestock herding is actually my specialty, you know.”
“In any case, it’s not completely barren, is it?”
The light began to return to people’s eyes.
“If there’s even a foundation to build upon….”
“And with the Royal Court’s support added to that…?”
“Why couldn’t we make something of it?”
“Better than staying here and gnawing on tree bark for the rest of our lives.”
The interest that had cooled began to reignite.
Yet caution still tempered their actions.
“The rumors are rather off-putting, so I’m hesitant to relocate so readily.”
“Rumors? What rumors?”
“House Whitewolf—isn’t that the family with that notorious scoundrel?”
The scoundrel of House Whitewolf, Adrian.
His misdeeds were known throughout the Battenberg Kingdom—
“Good heavens, are your ears merely ornaments?”
“What in the world are you—”
“You haven’t heard of the incident at Caravana recently?”
Adrian, who single-handedly averted the disaster at Caravana.
The name by which he was now called.
Adrian, the Saint of Caravana.
Adrian was no longer the scoundrel of House Whitewolf.
“Moreover, the Holy Kingdom itself has officially recognized him as a saint.”
“What? So it’s truly a territory governed by a saint?”
“My… could that land truly be a place of hope?”
“And the Royal Court provides support for those who settle there?”
A land governed by a saint, backed by the Royal Court.
Their cautious interest transformed in an instant into fervent excitement.
“I’m going!”
“Me too! An opportunity like this may never come again!”
“I’ll need to discuss it with my wife… but I’ll convince her somehow!”
“Where do we submit our relocation applications?”
As their eyes gleamed with renewed purpose, applications to relocate to Whitewolf Territory began to flood in.
But.
Not everyone shared this sentiment.
The enthusiasm was limited to the peasant classes.
The craftsmen’s reaction was lukewarm at best.
“Even if a saint governs it, it’s still a land without infrastructure or established foundations.”
“The only local resources are food supplies, after all.”
“Essentially, you’re asking us to start from scratch on barren ground.”
What the craftsmen needed was an environment where they could practice their trades.
Above all, the craftsmen had already established their livelihoods.
They had their own workshops, established clientele, and steady income streams.
“You want us to abandon all this for a pittance in subsidies?”
“We’re past the age for such adventures.”
Neither the Royal Court’s support nor the saint’s renown could sway the craftsmen.
“This is something I heard as a rumor myself…”
Until someone spoke these words.
“I heard there are Dwarves in Whitewolf Territory.”
“Dwarves?!”
In that instant, the air around them shifted.
The craftsmen’s previously dull eyes suddenly gleamed with intensity.
The Continent’s greatest artisan race—the Dwarves.
Countless craftsmen yearned to learn their techniques.
But Dwarves were fundamentally unfavorable toward humans.
They were beings one could scarcely glimpse once in a lifetime, let alone exchange knowledge with.
Such Dwarves existed in the Territory?
“Then…! If we relocate to the Territory, could we learn the Dwarves’ techniques?!”
“Perhaps.”
“Good heavens!!”
“But…would the Dwarves actually teach us their techniques?”
“Who knows? But at the very least, merely witnessing the Dwarves’ equipment and workshops would be an extraordinary opportunity, wouldn’t it?”
“….”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean? We need to prepare to relocate to Whitewolf Territory starting now!”
And so.
“Those missing documents, step back! Back, please!”
“You wrote down four family members but five people showed up?!”
“We’re out of applications! Today’s quota is finished! You’ll need to line up again starting tomorrow at dawn!!”
The palace administrators found themselves swept up in the throngs of people seeking to relocate to Whitewolf Territory, working with such fervor their minds nearly spun away.
* * *
The contents written across the lengthy parchment.
The gist of it was roughly as follows.
====
●[Royal Population Balance Special Decree] – Population support and relocation subsidies shall be implemented for the Northern Territories.
●[State Technical Personnel Reallocation Act] – Special permission is granted for the relocation of state-owned serfs and craftsmen to the Northern Territories.
●[National Treasury Inflow Encouragement Act] – Treasury subsidies and settlement support funds shall be provided exclusively to migrants relocating to the Northern Territories.
●[Displaced Persons Settlement and Rehabilitation Adjustment Act] – The Northern Territories shall be designated as a priority settlement area for displaced persons, and settlement procedures shall be simplified.
====
As I narrowed my eyes, Heherlad added his explanation.
“This is the relocation support special decree, effective as of today.”
“A relocation support special decree?”
“Indeed!”
Heherlad’s vigorous response.
◆Ah, what in blazes is this nonsense now?!
…Mungu exploded with an irate tone.
◆How did things end up like this?!
…Quite right.
◆Why did Leon, that stubborn fool, suddenly do something like this?!
…Indeed, what a mess.
◆And you won’t even approve the marriage because of this!!
…Indeed, what a mess.
◆How did he even know about the population problem in the first place!!!
…Indeed, what a mess.
It was undoubtedly Leon’s current ability—[L].
An absurdly broken power that allowed him to intuitively grasp the [context, causes, and circumstances] of any unfolding event.
Considering the sheer absurdity of that ability I witnessed back then, understanding the problems plaguing Whitewolf Territory would be child’s play.
So let’s set that aside for now.
“But how is this special decree being implemented?”
The implementation of the special decree itself was an entirely different matter.
The Royal Court was directly opening the treasury.
And relocating serfs and artisans?
It was a benefit without precedent.
Truly a privilege of the highest order.
No matter how much control Leon wielded, this should have been impossible.
The nobility should have resisted fiercely, even risen in revolt, and prevented its implementation entirely….
“That is precisely the matter at hand,” Heherlad said.
Heherlad opened his mouth slowly.
* * *
Battenberg, the capital of the Battenberg Kingdom.
The conference room within the Royal Palace at its heart.
The room was filled with restless nobility.
“Is it truly the case that such a disaster occurred in Caravana?”
The disaster that had unfolded in Caravana, no less.
The disaster itself in Caravana was astonishing enough.
“Adrian Whitewolf prevented the disaster in Caravana…?”
And the one who resolved it was supposedly Adrian.
That fool, known merely as a wastrel of some count’s house.
“How could a mere wastrel…?”
“Surely the accounts are greatly exaggerated….”
The nobility did not believe it.
It made no sense.
But Leon alone saw it differently.
He knew better than anyone that this rumor was absolute truth, without a shred of falsehood.
And he understood better than anyone why the nobility refused to believe it.
It was because Adrian had never sought to become a hero himself.
One who performs missions that go unrecorded.
One who hides in moonlight and walks beneath starlight.
…But here’s the thing.
‘That’s only possible when dealing with humans.’
So when a human hides within moonlight, their presence becomes concealed—but when an Ogre hides in moonlight, their existence doesn’t vanish at all.
They may be invisible for now, but eventually, they will inevitably reveal their true nature.
And an Ogre? That’s hardly even worth mentioning.
“Still, to think he single-handedly contained a disaster of that magnitude.”
“Does that even make sense?”
…At that level, he’s a dragon.
Hide a dragon behind mere moonlight?
It’s no different from telling thunder and lightning to be quiet and covering their mouths.
An awl hidden in a pocket will eventually pierce through.
But what of a dragon hidden in a pocket?
That’s precisely why Leon felt such profound regret.
‘If only I had a sister.’
His Majesty the King would likely have gathered everything he possessed and begged, “Please, just become our son-in-law!”
Leon would have gone even further—he’d have handed over the throne to Adrian entirely.
Certainly, the crown would pass to one without royal blood, but that posed no problem whatsoever.
Why?
Because he’d be my brother-in-law.
Isn’t that the perfect arrangement for everyone?
If he surrendered everything to Adrian like that?
Leon planned to head straight to Whitewolf Territory.
For days, months, years—he’d propose to Seraphia and become a live-in husband, supporting her from within.
By day, he’d work as Seraphia’s secretary and administrator.
By night, he’d be Seraphia’s husband, preparing warm tea and refreshments.
Leon would have lived the most blissful married life imaginable.
But alas, most unfortunately, and truly most regrettably.
‘Sigh….’
Leon had no sister.
It was a lifelong sorrow.
Heaven itself had been cruel.
Why couldn’t it grant him just one?
How could it be so indifferent?
‘Sigh….’
…Today, Leon’s sighs only grew deeper.
But he wouldn’t simply give up.
Absolutely not.
Leon swallowed his sigh.
He carefully organized his thoughts, formulating a plan to make Seraphia his queen.
First.
‘With the Royal Court’s full support, I shall make Whitewolf Territory the greatest in all The Continent.’
Adrian’s abilities would be made known across The Continent.
Through this, the perception that Adrian was the true lord of Whitewolf Territory would be firmly established.
A count’s title is one bestowed directly by the sovereign.
Therefore, the sovereign could also revoke the title.
Of course, title revocation was not common.
However, precedent did exist.
‘Seraphia also wished to grant Adrian the count’s title.’
There was nothing to hesitate about.
Therefore, with full support, Adrian would ascend to the rank of count….
No, actually, it would be an even better idea to seat Adrian in the position of duke.
Duke of the Northern Region, Adrian.
Was that not already a magnificent title befitting his proven abilities?
Through this, I could snatch away Seraphia, who had become like a sack of grain left in someone else’s care… no, welcome her as Queen.
There was only one thing.
The Royal Court’s full support required proper justification—
“No matter what, he faced a Death Knight alone?”
“Ah, surely there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“I concur. Was it not Adrian, but perhaps Adrion? Some similar name?”
Fortunately, the incident at Caravana was stirring The Continent in the most opportune manner.
This was different from the Ogre situation.
Even Leon’s influence could not suppress it.
With several witnesses present, there was no suppressing anything.
The rumors had already spread beyond any hope of containment.
‘Excellent.’
The justification had been created.
Now I could provide the Royal Court’s support without reservation, something impossible before when Adrian’s achievements remained unknown.
There was no need for caution, restrictions, or political considerations.
Frankly, even if I carved away a portion of the border and gave it to him?
That would be a bargain for securing Adrian, would it not?
Already, the entire kingdom was engaged in an all-out competition to recruit Adrian.
In such circumstances, no matter what reward Leon bestowed—even if he offered the entire kingdom—no one could voice objection.
Losing Adrian to another kingdom would be the greatest loss of all.
Therefore.
Did I mention that an aleph-null point was necessary for permission to marry Seraphia?
‘Make my wife’s family the greatest territory in The Continent.’
…More precisely, Leon’s project to transform Whitewolf Territory into his wife’s family seat had begun.
* * *
Heherlad’s lengthy explanation.
Yet its contents could be summarized simply in Seraphia’s words.
“So… you’re saying it’s all thanks to my brother?”
“Precisely!”
Heherlad seized the moment, snapping to attention as he responded.
“Thanks to the distinguished achievements of Adrian, the Royal Court of Battenberg Kingdom has strengthened its diplomatic standing, and our influence over neighboring nations has naturally expanded!”
“Our kingdom became stronger because of my brother?!”
“Indeed! Therefore, Leon has implemented this special decree as both a just reward and a symbolic gesture!”
“So this special decree is essentially exclusive to my brother?!”
“Precisely stated! The nobility unanimously approved it, and it’s being implemented without any resistance!”
“Waaahhh!!”
Seraphia beamed with unbridled joy.
She clasped her hands together tightly and bounced up and down.
She looked as though she herself had just received praise.
Heherlad gazed at her adorable display, chuckling helplessly.
Only one person.
◆What in blazes is this nonsense?!?
Mungu alone was erupting in protest.
And for good reason—the Territory currently possessed substantial prosperity-tier capabilities across administration, military affairs, construction, and more.
In every field, it had already achieved considerable prosperity-grade capacity.
Only one thing.
Population remained insufficient.
But with full backing from the Royal Court?
Tens of thousands of migrants were expected to flood into the Territory.
And they weren’t merely ordinary settlers.
State-appointed artisans and state-appointed serfs.
In other words, skilled laborers who could be deployed immediately.
Trained at the Royal educational institutions, they were elite personnel capable of being utilized across all domains—basic production, construction, and administrative support.
Therefore, the Blacksmith Workshop and distribution lines that had been dormant could be activated at once.
The native resources left untouched in Whitewolf Territory 2 could also be harvested and processed.
In other words.
Achieving the prosperity tier and town status required for clearing the Territory Quest was merely a matter of time.
…No, that wasn’t even the real issue.
Reaching a prosperity tier higher than town status would be child’s play.
And by doing so, I could unlock and utilize all the various functions of the 【Territory Buff】 that Mungu had advertised at once—
◆Ah, I’m done with this!!!
…Mungu had thoroughly thrown a tantrum.

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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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