The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 245

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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 245. The Immortal Legion
The Earldom 2 Plains.
Once verdant with lush vegetation.
But that was no longer the case.
Days of relentless battle had trampled the greenery to ruin.
As the wind swept across, the stench of rotting blood permeated the air.
The blood of five thousand invaders and the soldiers of Whitewolf Territory.
Corpses lay scattered in all directions.
All of them belonged to the invaders.
The casualties suffered by Whitewolf Territory’s soldiers were virtually nonexistent.
“We owe our lives to these regeneration potions.”
Sarpedon gazed at the crimson vial in his hand.
A potion crafted from Adrian’s blood.
Its efficacy far surpassed potions made from troll blood.
In fact, one could gulp it down without restraint.
And never succumb to madness.
“Ahhh! Now I feel alive again.”
Sarpedon hurled the empty bottle aside and rolled his shoulders in circles.
His body felt noticeably lighter.
His wounds had healed instantly, and the muscle soreness had vanished completely.
“Come on, men. Let’s clean this up and head back.”
At his command, the resting soldiers sprang into action.
They extracted helmets buried in the earth and gathered up broken spears and weapons.
They moved all the scattered corpses to one side.
“Commander, what should we do with the dead horses?”
“What do you mean? We clear them out.”
“They’re too heavy.”
“You can’t lift one horse?”
“How am I supposed to lift this?”
“Move aside.”
Sarpedon strode over to the horse’s side.
He swung his axe to cut through the reins and saddle, then seized the horse’s front legs and hoisted it with raw strength.
“Heave!”
“…!!”
“Damn, it really is heavy.”
“How… how are you doing that?”
“What?”
“How are you lifting it like that, sir?”
A horse typically weighs over four hundred kilograms.
A war horse approaches nearly five hundred.
Moreover, a war horse clad in steel barding easily exceeded 700 kilograms.
To lift something like that with sheer strength alone?
By any reasonable standard, it was impossible.
Yet Sarpedon was hoisting the entire armored horse aloft with both arms as if it were nothing.
The surrounding soldiers’ jaws dropped in astonishment.
Sarpedon tossed out the explanation casually.
“I awakened my Auror not long ago.”
“You did, sir?”
“That’s right.”
“Incredible!”
“No wonder you’ve been fighting so brilliantly!”
The soldiers cried out with excitement.
“Does that mean you’re becoming a Master like Kai, sir?”
“Master my ass.”
Sarpedon snorted derisively and moved forward.
“Adrian makes Master-grade weapons, so does that make him look like a Master?”
“Well, not exactly….”
“I’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ve only grasped the concept of what Auror truly is.”
“Still, that’s remarkable, sir!”
Envy and reverence bloomed across the soldiers’ faces.
Auror was not something one awakened easily.
Auror.
A power that defies the laws of the world.
Auror manifests in reality the things that exist only in an individual’s imagination.
An absurd power that the world does not acknowledge, that has never existed anywhere, yet exists.
Therefore, body and mind.
And mana.
If these three do not achieve perfect harmony, the power destroys its user first.
That is why ordinary people never awaken it, no matter how long they train.
Those with some talent require years.
Even those called geniuses must grind away months of effort.
Yet Sarpedon had only begun formally learning Auror—
“Less than a year ago, was it not?”
An astonishing talent that barely brushed the threshold of genius.
Even accounting for Kai’s instruction.
“That’s true, but….”
Sarpedon adjusted his grip on the corpse of the horse slung across his shoulders.
“Training in Whitewolf Territory seems to accelerate my progress somehow.”
Mana permeates my body far more readily, one might say.
Physical recovery is remarkably swift, one might say.
My basic physical strength surged upward, and my mind felt sharp and alert.
“What?! I’m experiencing the same thing.”
“Me too. My breathing feels easier, and my body responds with greater strength.”
“Me as well!”
“So it’s not just me.”
All the soldiers resonated with the sentiment.
Not only Sarpedon, but everyone was experiencing the same sensation.
It seemed that some kind of blessing had settled upon the land of Whitewolf Territory.
“But brother.”
“What is it.”
“The horse you’re holding.”
“The horse? This one?”
“Yes.”
“What about it.”
“It keeps moving.”
“…What?”
Sarpedon casually checked the horse corpse on his shoulder.
A horse with its head pierced by an arrow.
It was clearly dead.
Yet it was moving ever so slightly.
“Is it rigor mortis or something?”
“Rigor mortis is when the body stiffens, brother.”
In that instant.
The horse convulsed and thrashed.
“What the hell is this!”
Sarpedon hurled the horse corpse away without hesitation.
The discarded horse’s body.
It flailed about like a fresh-caught fish on land.
It wasn’t just the horse.
The corpses scattered around began to writhe.
Dark crimson blood poured forth from all directions, gradually taking on a distinct form.
“…What in hell is crawling out.”
Sarpedon instinctively gripped his axe and retreated backward.
* * *
A Calamity Quest had suddenly emerged.
Like an Unexpected Quest, it came without warning.
Moreover, it had been forcibly initiated.
While its mechanism resembled that of an Unexpected Quest in many ways, the scale was incomparably vaster.
A Calamity Quest had occurred only once before.
When Blake launched his assault on Caravana.
The city was paralyzed, and tens of thousands nearly fell to slaughter.
A Calamity Quest is exactly what its name suggests—a calamity.
In other words, it demands the military strength to contend with a Lord-tier existence.
The difference in caliber is that vast.
Therefore, this Calamity Quest also required someone comparable to Blake, or
perhaps someone who surpassed him entirely.
==[The Lord of the Undying]==
[Objective] – Halt the Immortal Legion
[Reward] – Unlock a new 【Privilege】
[Failure] – The fall of Whitewolf Territory
“…!!”
My eyes widened involuntarily.
* * *
Crimson blood poured from the corpses.
It finally began to take form.
A scarlet cloak.
Pallid, ashen skin.
Eyes stained the color of blood.
And hair as white as fresh snow.
“What are you doing, you bastard?”
When Sarpedon spoke, a gaze brimming with ominous intent turned toward him from within the heap of corpses.
“My name is Vlad Dracula.”
“Dracula…?”
Sarpedon’s mind flashed with recognition.
Dracula.
If this was the Dracula that Sarpedon knew, he was once called the Dragon Slayer—a folk hero and war hero of the Koslav Kingdom.
But before he was a hero, he was a madman consumed by frenzy.
-Execute all those who are of no use to humanity.
Wielding that motto, he initially turned his wrath upon those who plundered the people,
those who defied the law,
and other obvious criminals.
But his sense of justice gradually became stained with madness.
Beyond criminals, he began executing the merely lazy,
the incompetent, the sickly.
Even the innocent fell to his judgment.
And had it ended there,
Sarpedon would never have remembered Dracula.
History itself would have recorded him as merely one of countless madmen.
But Dracula was different.
He did not kill the innocent lightly.
Impaled on stakes, set ablaze.
Boiled alive in cauldrons alongside their severed heads.
Flayed raw while still breathing.
Their bodies hacked to pieces as methodically as slicing cabbage.
Children burned to death in flames, their mothers forced to consume the charred remains of their own offspring.
The catalogue of his unspeakable atrocities stretched on without end.
Vlad Dracula.
History recorded him as the Son of the Dragon and the “Lord of Blood”—yet.
“That bastard’s been dead for ages?”
Over five hundred years ago, no less.
And this creature claims to be Dracula?
It was impossible. Utterly impossible.
Dracula was human.
A mortal who could not live even a century.
Even Elves perished after two hundred years.
How could a human possibly endure five centuries?
“I transcended death by my Queen’s will.”
Dracula’s voice reverberated across the field.
His eyes gleamed crimson, stained with blood.
“My Queen commanded it.”
Dracula’s scarlet gaze pierced through the entire battlefield.
“Burn the Whitewolf Territory and raise an altar with their blood.”
Dracula raised his hand.
Crimson energy coalesced at his fingertips.
A dark crimson mist rolled across the ground.
Anguished screams echoed from somewhere, reverberating through the air.
“Rise, soldiers of the Queen.”
The fallen corpses began to stir, one by one.
The dead rose with blazing crimson eyes.
Even the fallen horses hauled themselves upright.
“Damn it….”
Cold sweat trickled down Sarpedon’s spine.
* * *
The Immortal Legion.
Soldiers who could not die—the name spoke for itself.
Warriors beyond the reach of death.
Yet they were not undead.
Undead merely move while trapped in their corpses.
In other words, undead have already experienced death.
Therefore, it was possible to return them to death once more.
However, the Immortal Legion was different.
Beings that transcended death itself.
Alien entities completely severed from nature’s cycle and the world’s laws.
Vampires.
And all vampires are subjugated by a single being.
The Vampire Queen.
She is none other than.
One of the six lords who serve The Emperor.
The Immortal Lord.
In other words, the current calamity Quest arose because of The Immortal Lord.
The Immortal Lord.
Unfortunately, the revealed information was scarce.
Long ago, she was sealed away in another dimension, leaving almost no traces or records on The Continent.
Yet one fact remained certain.
She was a figure who once existed on The Continent.
She was not originally a being from another dimension, but rather someone from The Continent who became The Immortal Lord.
But to trace her origins?
One had to ascend through countless ages.
Thus, the Allied Forces referred to The Immortal Lord as.
The Elder Beyond Time.
There was no other way to describe her.
“Damn it.”
I ground my teeth.
The worst scenario had unfolded.
While I was laying the foundation for the Allied Forces, The Emperor had been preparing his own hand.
“Ian….”
I didn’t know.
There was no way to know now.
All I had was the belief that the Ian I knew would not fall so easily.
“Stay calm.”
I exhaled a deep breath.
“The Immortal Lord’s return is certain.”
But the being that triggered the calamity Quest.
In other words, I had no certainty that The Immortal Lord was the one who attacked Whitewolf Territory.
“The Quest’s objective is, after all, just the ‘Immortal Legion.'”
Therefore, a superior vampire.
In other words, it was highly likely that a ‘Commander of the Immortal Legion’ had been deployed.
“If that’s the case….”
In the past, perhaps it would have been uncertain.
But the Whitewolf Territory of now could withstand it with ease.
* * *
Immortal soldiers transformed into vampires by the blood of the Vampire Queen.
Vlad Dracula had reclaimed that blood.
Now death would never find them.
Not that they could not die.
They had become incapable of dying.
Vlad Dracula’s voice thundered across the field.
“By the will of Her Majesty, rise and fight once more!”
Crimson radiance flashed in unison across the undead ranks.
No battle cry erupted.
Yet the very earth itself wailed in anguish.
No force on this world could halt the vampire advance.
“All units, prepare for combat!!”
But the soldiers of Whitewolf Territory did not retreat.
They swiftly reformed their lines and readied themselves for battle.
Vlad Dracula’s brow furrowed.
“Indeed….”
These were soldiers tempered by elite discipline.
At the very least, they had learned to overcome fear itself.
“I cannot face them carelessly.”
Vlad Dracula raised his hand before him.
A sharp hiss pierced the air.
Blood beaded at his fingertips.
As he swept his hand through the air, the gathered blood streaked outward in all directions.
When he spread both arms wide, the crimson essence split asunder and seeped into the immortal soldiers.
The blessing of the Vampire Queen descended upon them.
Cloaked in every conceivable enhancement, the immortal soldiers became a devouring tide of crimson that surged forward.
“What is that…!!”
“They come!! All of you, raise your weapons!!”
The soldiers of Whitewolf Territory were seized by chaos.
Yet they gritted their teeth and grasped their weapons once more.
“Do you embrace death? How foolish.”
Vlad Dracula sneered, his crimson cloak billowing around him.
“Even that will to die shall be enslaved beneath Her Majesty’s command.”
From beneath his feet, pools of blood erupted, and a swarm of crimson bats blotted out the sky.
In that instant.
Sarpedon’s colossal axe cleaved through the bat swarm.
Vlad Dracula’s eyes narrowed to slits.
The crimson bats were shredded to ribbons, falling from the heavens like a crimson rain.
Sarpedon stood drenched in that scarlet downpour, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon Vlad Dracula.
“Prepared to die? Not in the slightest.”
Sarpedon stepped forward.
Vlad Dracula’s face twisted in rage.
“Your queen may have commanded your death.”
Behind Sarpedon, the soldiers of Vister gripped their weapons tightly.
“Our Goddess has commanded us otherwise.”
I would forgive a hundred defeats, a thousand retreats in failure.
But I will never forgive victory purchased with death.
-This is my supreme command to all of you!
“You must return alive.”
Upon the blood-soaked earth.
The will to live burning in Vister’s soldiers began to drive back the encroaching immortality.

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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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