The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 329

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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 329. Growth (2)
Sylvandir Forest possessed the same nature as Valley of Kardun.
It bore the identical quality of death interpreted as circulation.
That made sense—what had just occurred was not recovery.
It was not merely the regeneration of fatigue and wounds.
It was rebirth, using death itself as fertile ground—.
“Evolution?”
Evolution.
Natural selection repeating at an extreme velocity, continuously renewing itself—that was what I witnessed.
“But why?”
Of course, this was not Valley of Kardun.
Official designation: Sylvandir Forest.
Which meant this was Whitewolf Territory 2.
“Then how is this possible?”
Holding that question, I sought out Rielin.
Finding her proved effortless.
I simply had to locate the source of the most powerful aura in this place.
I found Rielin quickly, and from her, I received my answer.
“I came to understand it after that incident.”
Rielin’s voice was composed.
Her condition was also unharmed.
Her right arm, which had been hollow below the elbow, had completely regenerated.
Her eyes, once dulled in color, now gleamed with brilliant emerald light.
…It was a relief.
But relief was one thing.
“You came to understand it?”
“Yes.”
“Understand what?”
“The true nature of death.”
Rielin opened her palm.
A powerful aura flowed gently across her hand.
“I simply applied it to my spirit summoning.”
“…??”
I had no idea what she meant.
Elven riddles.
In such moments, direct questioning was the best approach.
“Could you explain it more simply?”
Rielin paused briefly before answering.
“Do you remember what happened in Valley of Kardun?”
“Which incident are you referring to?”
“What I did in the realm of consciousness.”
“….”
“You don’t remember, do you?”
That was true.
I think he was referring to when I was inside the cocoon, but my memories from that time were… how should I put it.
Completely jumbled.
Fortunately, Rielin nodded as if she understood.
“Didn’t you feel something strange at that time?”
“I did feel as though reality was slipping away.”
“Like this?”
Rielin’s fingertips sliced through empty air.
In that instant, the air inverted, and space tore open as if rending itself apart.
My vision warped, and I felt the grain of space itself shift.
‘…An illusion?’
That couldn’t be.
A Perfect Being’s hypersensitivity couldn’t be fooled by something as trivial as an illusion.
Therefore, this wasn’t some phantom deception—it was genuinely transformed reality—
“Dream Realization.”
“…??”
My head tilted without my realizing it.
Dream Realization?
I’d never heard of it.
Not even in my past life.
“Well, you see—”
Rielin chuckled softly and added her explanation.
* * *
Dream Realization.
To put it simply.
‘Is it a dream that Rielin’s exclusive sorcery paints into being?’
Its structure and mechanism resembled Kai’s and Broombar’s.
In other words, it was the same as Mental Manifestation and Delusion Manifestation.
So it worked the same way—inscribing new laws upon reality itself.
Mental Manifestation imagines something that could exist, and manifests it.
Delusion Manifestation imagines something that cannot exist, and manifests it.
And Dream Realization—
“I simply wished that no one had died.”
Dreams of something that cannot be called existence, and manifests it.
Thus, the dream Rielin manifested.
Thousandfold Metamorphosis.
This could not, by any definition, be called existence.
Endless transformation.
An unceasing cycle.
It was the very way nature itself flowed.
By merging with nature in this manner, Rielin could manifest all things natural.
Becoming rain, becoming wind.
Trees and flames, mist and earth.
What Rielin desired became nature itself.
And what nature permitted became Rielin.
Thus, by following nature while remaining unbound by its laws, she ultimately rewrote even that nature itself—a reverie made manifest.
‘…Is that right?’
Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely certain.
I would need to have witnessed it myself.
In any case.
Reverie Manifestation required only accepting the flow of nature—that was sufficient.
Unlike Delusion Manifestation, it had no concrete activation constraints.
Unlike Mental Image Manifestation, it demanded no unwavering resolve.
Rielin simply accepted all the cycles of nature—.
‘Did she even accept the power that The Death Lord possesses?’
The Death Lord is death itself.
And death has always been part of nature.
Whether as cycle or as ending.
It had never departed from its essence as a death spirit.
By accepting all the cycles of nature, Rielin could now command even the death spirit—.
‘…Is that right?’
Honestly, it was difficult to believe.
Because it meant Rielin could wield The Death Lord like an extension of her own limbs.
“Are you certain you’re alright?”
On the other hand, I grew concerned.
Handling death seemed to require Reverie Manifestation.
But Reverie Manifestation itself?
It demanded an astronomical amount of mystical power.
Therefore, merely maintaining Reverie Manifestation was enough to say one’s very existence was being consumed—.
“I’m fine.”
Rielin appeared to be fine.
She wasn’t even pretending to be fine.
Her face and expression were genuinely serene and unbothered.
“Thanks to this.”
Rielin extended something she held in her hand toward me.
I had been curious about it since earlier.
Looking at it closely.
It was equipment that Broombar had crafted.
◆Nyrhagnil [T]
: A staff woven from the thoracic membrane of the dragon Fafnir and the deep roots of Yggdrasil. Connected to the natural spirit realm, allowing unrestricted expansion of shamanic power.
●[Form Transmutation] : Changes shape and structure in response to the user’s will.
●[Spirit Amplification] : Natural energy efficiency is amplified by [+146,521,600%].
●[Dreampath Gateway] : Connects reality and the spirit realm.
●[Natural Purification] : Instantly removes all debuffs.
…Was this insane?
That was the only thought that came to mind upon seeing such equipment.
Leaving everything else aside, that [Spirit Amplification] function made no sense.
‘One hundred and forty-six million percent?’
I thought the units were wrong.
I checked once more.
But sure enough.
The figure +146,521,600% remained unchanged.
In other words, summoning a spirit of wind would mean the god of wind itself descended.
That’s why its rank was Transcendent [T].
Even if Broombar was the Blacksmith of the Heavens, this was still—
This was equipment that defied all logic.
I had never seen a Transcendent-grade item even in my past life.
‘It must be because of Fafnir.’
There was no other explanation.
Even Arcane Engineering couldn’t achieve this.
The limit of Arcane Engineering was Mythic [M].
But it seemed Fafnir had elevated it to Transcendent [T] grade.
“Thanks to Nyrhagnil, I was able to connect with Yggdrasil through the Shared Dream.”
“Ah.”
I nodded in understanding.
Rielin’s ability—Shared Dream [L].
An ability to create, connect, and share a world of dreams.
Through Shared Dream [L], Rielin could communicate ‘directly’ with all of nature.
Because of this, Rielin did not use her own consciousness as the foundation of the dream.
All of nature itself.
In other words, through the effect of [Dreampath Gateway], the spirit realm and Yggdrasil were bound as a single dream.
It was no easy feat.
Even borrowing Nyrhagnil’s power made it difficult.
It transcended the realm of shamanism—it was the domain of super-consciousness.
But as the saying goes, misfortune can become fortune.
“…The experience of being consumed by Mongma ended up helping me.”
Rielin lowered her head as if embarrassed.
Even if I tried to deny it.
My crimson ears betrayed the truth.
‘Whether then or now, I’ve always been embarrassed by the strangest things.’
Well, regardless.
‘Have I now surpassed The Spirit Summoner of the Upper Heavens?’
What even was The Spirit Summoner of the Upper Heavens?
‘At this point, haven’t I transcended the very concept of a Spirit Summoner?’
Far beyond that, even.
With a touch of exaggeration, I could call myself a god.
Of course, a nature god.
That is, a god without transcendent powers like creation or judgment, yet still a living god nonetheless.
‘…Is this even right?’
Even I don’t know anymore.
In any case.
The result was that Rielin had become indistinguishable from a nature god, spreading that power throughout the entirety of Sylvandir Forest.
Thanks to this, infinite growth like that of Valley of Kardun became possible.
In other words.
This place, Sylvandir Forest, could nurture immature perfect lifeforms into ultimate lifeforms—
◆An incubator, perhaps?
…Well, something like that.
* * *
A cityscape encircled by towering mountain ranges and verdant rivers.
A city formed by the gathering of those who cherished learning and art.
The cultural city, Orpheum.
Among Orpheum’s citizens, artists and scholars comprised the largest proportion.
Scholars strolled the streets, exchanging thoughts with one another.
Philosophical debates erupted daily in the heart of the Town Square.
Artists took up instruments and made the city itself their stage.
The Town Square overflowed with impromptu performances.
Poetry recitations echoed from every alleyway.
Orpheum, a living city of art.
But.
“Ah… the melody won’t come….”
“My hands have no strength to lift the brush….”
“Why is this happening… Was I always like this?”
Recently, Orpheum was not as it had been.
The streets remained crowded.
Yet they lacked vitality.
The Town Square fell silent, and poetry recitations no longer echoed from the alleyways.
What could be heard instead—
“Why do I live? Why do I continue to breathe? Why must any of us persist? What possible reason could there be to go on?”
“…There is no meaning. No reason to keep living….”
The City of Arts now lay shrouded entirely in grey.
There was only one reason.
“A life without Night Ale is not worth living!!”
“What good is poetry! What use is verse in a world without Night Ale!!”
Night Ale had sold out.
More precisely, the blockade imposed by Whitewolf Territory had halted all distribution.
And so the citizens of Orpheum, how should I put it.
“Ah! Night Ale, my beloved Night Ale!”
Were beginning to lose their minds.
“With your deep, complex flavor and golden foam settling like the hues of sunset!”
“Without you, my brush has withered, my verses have dried, my songs have fallen silent.”
Someone lay sprawled on the street, wailing.
Someone else clutched an empty glass, tears streaming down their face.
“Night falls, yet I cannot intoxicate myself!”
“I have dreams, yet I cannot write them down!!”
A city where art had ceased.
No—a city where Night Ale had run dry.
Just as the citizens were slowly losing their grip on reason, it happened.
“Night Ale has arrived in stock!!!!”
A bell tolled—a sound that reversed the apocalypse itself.
Orpheum, dying just moments before, convulsed with life.
“What?!”
“Is it true?!!”
A poet in the Town Square hurled down his pen and cried out.
A bookstore owner tore through his inventory and rushed outside.
“It’s true!!!!”
“Night Ale has truly arrived in stock!!!!”
Citizens from every corner surged toward the Town Square and taverns.
“This is living. This is what life truly means!!”
“My creations shall bloom from the foam of Night Ale!!”
Art, which had been dying, was resurrected.
Reason, which had been fading, was restored.
“Wait—Night Ale stocks have been replenished…?”
“Does that mean the blockade on Whitewolf Territory has ended?”
And so the rumor spread like wildfire.
“Whitewolf Territory has opened its gates!!”
From every corner of The Continent, footsteps began converging toward Whitewolf Territory.
The First Princess of Trantia Kingdom.
Lillia Trantia.
She rushed to Whitewolf Territory faster than anyone else.
Lillia crossed the border swiftly.
And finally.
She arrived at Count’s Castle.
“This is….”
Lillia surveyed her surroundings with measured composure.
Indeed.
It was a territory of extraordinary magnificence, just as the rumors proclaimed.
Architectural styles she had never witnessed before lined the streets.
Spirits shimmered across every vista.
Silent carriages glided effortlessly through the thoroughfares.
The Capital of Trantia Kingdom could not compare in the slightest.
No capital of any kingdom Lillia knew of could ever rival this place.
It was truly a paradise on earth.
“And most remarkably, there isn’t a single foul odor to be found…!”
This was genuinely a new world.
Lillia walked freely through the streets without fear of filth raining down upon her head.
On the surface, her purpose was tourism.
Of course, her true intentions were far different.
Lillia searched desperately for someone while pretending to admire the various sights of the territory.
And in that verdant land thick with lush vegetation.
There, Lillia could see him.
She had never laid eyes upon him before.
Yet she knew him instantly.
Black hair.
Crimson eyes.
That man was undoubtedly Adrian, the Dragon Slayer.
Lillia froze in place.
She could barely restrain her heart from racing away.
Seeing him in person… he was far too handsome.
Emotion swelled up to her throat.
Lillia clenched her trembling fists.
Adrian stood in such a magnificent pose, cracking his spine.
“…Excuse me?”
Cracking what?

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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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