The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 324

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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 324. The Spirit Summoner of the Upper Heavens (2)
Sorcery.
A power born from the ignorance of ancient mankind.
Thunder and lightning that illuminate the sky.
Floods and tidal waves that ravage the earth.
The ancients, unable to comprehend the mechanics of these phenomena, accepted them all as the will of the gods.
So they prayed to the gods.
They offered sacrifices to the gods.
They performed rituals imbued with their deepest wishes.
To resolve what humans could not understand.
To overcome what humans could not bear.
With fervent hope that they might borrow the power of the divine.
Hope.
That was the true origin of sorcery.
The vague certainty that sincere belief in something could alter reality itself.
Performing rituals day and night, hoping for a sick family member’s recovery.
Writing talismans, wishing for a child’s happiness.
Stringing sacred ropes across doorways to ward off misfortune.
Bowing before shrines each new year to whisper their desires.
Even when no explanation existed, no proof could be offered.
Even knowing it was fiction.
People never ceased these acts.
Impossible.
Literally, something that cannot come to pass.
Plague is not overcome by prayer to the gods, but by the accumulated wisdom humans have built over ages.
Therefore, overcoming disease through ritual is as impossible as resurrecting the dead—it can never be achieved.
And yet, sometimes in this world.
Very rarely indeed.
The impossible becomes reality.
Life.
Creation of existence from nothingness.
The birth of life was itself impossible.
Our very existence is an exception to the impossible.
That I live and breathe is silent proof that the impossible can become possible.
And so.
Kai twisted the laws of the world against the Immortal Queen.
Broombar refined the very structure of existence against T-Rex.
In the moment when all seemed finished.
When all possibility converged to zero.
Kai and Broombar accomplished the impossible.
So then.
Let me wish for it earnestly, just once.
Even if it makes no sense.
Even if it’s absurd.
Even if it’s something that can never come to pass.
Earnestly.
Truly, desperately earnestly.
“Exclusive Sorcery deployment.”
I wish for it within my heart.
Uuuuuuuuuung─!!
Within the world of death where all things decay and fall silent, a brilliant emerald radiance blazed forth.
At first, merely a single drop.
The light spread soundlessly like paint falling into the Abyss, then swiftly began radiating outward in all directions.
And thus.
From the ashes, brilliant life raised its head once more—.
“How is this possible…!!”
The Man cried out in astonishment.
* * *
Spaaaaaaash─!!
The surging emerald radiance of brilliant life.
The Man’s eyes widened in shock.
He had certainly thought it was over.
No—he had been certain of it.
Yet the emerald light now blazing forth shattered that certainty into fragments.
“This is… impossible.”
There was undoubtedly a wall—a limit that could not be crossed.
There was no way it could have been surpassed in this brief span of time… but why?
Kwaaaaaaash─!!
The light exploded.
The Man gritted his teeth.
He did not understand what was happening, but what was done was done.
Lucius Aquilinus.
That innocent life was now being born.
And in this very moment, there was no way to prevent that birth.
But it was not the end.
There remained things he could still do.
What was being born now was life itself.
In other words, it bore no will, no ideology.
Pure life.
And this contained a singular danger.
Good and evil.
Neither direction had been predetermined.
Therefore, anything could be inscribed.
And depending on what direction and purpose was carved into it, the state of life would differ.
It could become the ultimate good.
It could become the ultimate evil.
Or.
It could become a god—an indifferent observer, merely watching from afar.
The Man extended his hand.
A violet aura rippled from his fingertips.
The power of emptiness contained within it erased the emerald light.
The void that was born in its place.
Through that gap, the aura of death was drawn into the cocoon, spreading like a stain across the pristine canvas of life.
* * *
Emerald light bloomed across my consciousness.
It rekindled the dying embers of my awareness.
But in that moment.
Death consumed everything once more.
Death mocked life itself, swallowing the emerald light whole.
My body crumbled.
My name was erased.
All information that defined my existence collapsed before death.
Memories became ruins.
Life and self alike.
All dissolved and vanished.
I was no longer anyone, nothing at all.
No name to call me, no memories to return to.
No identity to preserve.
A single strand of energy seeped into my consciousness, where only emptiness remained.
That energy was not clear.
It was numb to pain.
Screams were nothing but meaningless noise.
I felt nothing.
Neither compassion, nor rage, nor sorrow.
Nothing held meaning for me.
The landscape of Whitewolf Territory.
The sky was tedious. The wind was dull.
Common sense is bland. Virtue is wearisome.
I lived each day in this place, repeating the same existence.
There was no stimulus to pierce through this life.
Sharp edges and roiling emotions.
They seemed to exist once, but they vanished long ago.
A tasteless indifference toward life itself.
Now, only that remained.
The cruel state of merely being alive persisted.
So we forever seek stimulation and become intoxicated by it.
Whether tragedy or disillusionment.
Or perhaps destruction.
Such stimuli feel like the tangible proof of being alive.
We cast ourselves into wounds, believing that pain is both the proof and meaning of our existence.
Black wings sprouted.
The agony of flesh tearing and bursting forth.
It was something endured in the state of being alive.
Pain spreading like a scream.
It was something that had to be borne in the act of surviving.
I could understand it.
To be alive is sin.
All existence is sin.
So I chose destruction.
Endless repetition.
Within meaningless cycles, only destruction was the sole salvation.
The black wings spread wide.
My numb consciousness ignited.
Within it.
-Life is not made of only such suffering, Adrian.
A voice reached me.
Whose… voice was it?
I did not know.
The voice was faint, yet not unfamiliar.
But Adrian? Who was that?
Who could that be…?
I did not know.
Within my blazing consciousness, an image surfaced.
Meeting people and drinking beer at night.
Singing joyful songs.
Quietly watching the sunset paint the sky.
All of these things became life and made me breathe.
What we take for granted.
The wind is cool.
The water was clear, and the sky was serene.
The earth nurtures life—a simple truth.
Moments that seem mundane at first glance.
Children playing in the Town Square.
A mother heading to her daughter’s home with a container full of side dishes.
The bustling Marketplace.
A novice adventurer lingering before the Guild.
Scenes I would have simply passed by on any other day.
Yet why is it
that such things move us to tears?
Perhaps…
—In those ordinary moments, we accept something and learn.
In such mundane daily life, were we not discovering the true value of existence itself?
—And in crucial moments, we give back what we once received.
Were not those tedious moments between each breath and exhale the very forge of our true selves?
—But if we do not accept, there is nothing to give. If nothing dwells within, there is nothing to share.
Like wounds that vanish without our knowing when they healed.
Like laughter that passes without our knowing when we smiled.
—Had I lived only through struggle, I would never have become a hero.
Life flows even without intensity.
Without proof.
Without triumph.
We are already enough.
As plants and water and wind and earth are.
After all, are we not children of nature as well?
The emerging Imago becomes vivid.
Though death consumed and erased all things, the Imago that life carries never perished—it began to paint something anew.
Yet.
What life painted was not imagination.
Nor was it delusion.
What life paints now.
In this very moment.
What someone desperately wishes for.
An ideal beyond reach.
Where no one is abandoned.
Where no one suffers.
Where all live together, laughing—.
* * *
“Dream Realization!”
Crack, burst—!!
Rielin’s emerald light exploded outward.
Laws were liberated, forms moved, concepts flowed, and existence defined itself.
All natural phenomena began to flow beneath her will.
Death resisted.
Sssssssssss…!!
The death of endings refused her cycle and attempted to flow backward.
Rielin did not overcome it.
No—she chose not to.
She did not suppress death.
She did not erase it like a phantom.
She did not obscure it like a delusion.
The world as it was.
Death as it was.
She simply allowed all things to be as they naturally were.
Thus.
Nature gives birth to all things and nurtures them.
Yet it possesses and dominates nothing.
It cultivates without claiming.
It bestows without expecting return.
Nature does not divide time.
It does not cling to form.
It belongs to no boundary whatsoever.
Nature reveals a thousand shapes.
Nature embraces ten thousand currents.
All things transform in a single moment, simultaneously, endlessly, permeating and coloring one another before returning.
Thus unfolds.
A radiant world of dreams.
Thousandfold Metamorphosis.
Everything in this world began to transform of its own accord and flow naturally.
The earth moved gently and created forests.
The forests became wind and flowed across the plains.
The warmth of the plains awakened the birds.
The songs of birds painted the color of the sky.
Not resisting the flow.
Not going against the natural order.
Neither forcibly creating nor destroying form.
“I-Impossible…!!!”
The Man’s eyes widened in shock.
But before his astonishment could even finish.
Sssssssssssssss─!!!
The emerald light spread forth along another grain.
* * *
A dreamscape unfolds within my consciousness.
Here, genetic information withers but does not decay.
Cellular nuclei slumber yet remain unbroken.
Consciousness has been severed.
Yet it has not vanished.
It merely flows as it naturally must.
And so.
Death could not terminate my existence.
All things transformed into a process of returning to nature, advancing toward what comes next.
Death itself was no exception.
Within the laws of nature.
Death was merely one transformation, a single current among many.
Therefore.
As plants and water and sun and wind are so.
Death too, in the end.
Like a child of nature itself.
◆Calamity Quest, [Feeling Death in the Darkness] cleared with a resounding ROAAAAAR!!!!
Death dissolved dramatically into the great cycle of nature—
◆Primordial Ultimate Evolution has reached its final stage.
…The ultimate evolution is now complete.

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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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