The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 362

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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 362. Each One’s Justice (1)
Kai deliberated.
Hesitation would be the more precise word.
A traitor. Leon.
By all appearances, Leon seemed certain to have murdered The King.
This conviction only hardened as I drew closer to the Capital.
Kai hesitated.
Was this choice truly the right one?
Helping Leon was far from pleasant, to begin with.
But beyond that.
If I ultimately aided Leon, I would be complicit in treason.
That would deny everything—a knight’s honor, conviction, justice.
All of it, utterly and completely.
Kai deliberated and hesitated.
But I did not dwell on it for long.
Headache-inducing arguments, philosophy and the like.
Such things lay beyond a knight’s domain.
They suited clever mages far better.
As it had always been.
Not words, but deeds.
A knight answered not with a quill, but with a blade.
If Adrian had chosen to aid Leon.
Whatever his reasons might be.
“Go. I will hold this place.”
This was where a knight like me belonged—standing firm.
Kai stepped forward to block Adrian’s path.
Adrian said nothing.
Yet from behind, I could feel Adrian’s trust enveloping me.
Absolute faith.
Without a word spoken, I understood it completely.
“…Then, I’m counting on you.”
Adrian moved forward.
In that very instant.
“Did you think I would allow that?”
The white mask raised his cane.
With a sickening crunch—
The cane pierced through Kai’s chest.
A strike that drove straight through the heart with perfect precision.
Kai’s body staggered backward.
Blood cascaded from the gaping wound in my chest.
After that, attacks from the other masked figures followed in succession, slashing Kai’s body repeatedly.
The masked figures’ attacks were peculiar.
How to describe it.
They were just like Adrian’s fingernails.
An insurmountable ability that could even sever Aura Blades.
All the masked figures wielded that inexplicable power.
Though Kai’s body could not die, his combat prowess ultimately rested upon swordsmanship.
He had merely abandoned the ways of humanity.
He had not rejected the sword itself.
Therefore, if the Aura Blade was neutralized, swordsmanship was neutralized, leaving only his bare body.
That would have meant defeat.
Clang—!
Kai’s Aura Blade was not neutralized.
It was none other than Kai’s newly forged blade.
Broombar and Srandel.
This sword, crafted by the mastery of two artisans.
Its contact surface was but a single atomic layer in thickness.
Nothing in this world could be thinner than an atom, nor more precise.
It was the absolute limit of what could possibly exist.
That was why it was impossible.
Even Broombar and Srandel dared not attempt to create it.
But Iliana.
Her Fancy was added to it.
Thus, the impossible became reality.
And so, even Adrian’s fingernails that could cleave molecules were themselves severed before this blade.
—Screeeech!!
The distortion that erupted as spacetime itself was rent asunder.
And Kai’s sword strike, bursting forth like a flash of lightning.
The Immortal Swordsmanship.
Second Form.
The Eternal Blade Waltz, ignorant of death.
The attacks and defenses of the masked figures were all neutralized and driven back.
* * *
A commotion felt from behind.
Kai was keeping all members of the Special Operations Bureau occupied.
Thanks to that, there was no presence following me.
Indeed, Kai.
By Mungu’s phrasing, he was a lord of sacrifice.
I focused on what I needed to do now.
I headed straight for the Underground Dungeon beneath the Royal Palace.
‘First, I need to confirm Leon’s safety.’
Blake’s coup d’état.
For it to succeed, ultimately Leon had to be removed from power.
* * *
The Capital, the Outer City of Battenberg.
This was a region primarily inhabited by merchants, artisans, and countless commoners.
Centered around the waters of the Silva River cutting through the heart of the city, merchant vessels with colorful flags fluttered abundantly across the river.
Countless boats traversed the river.
Near the docks, laborers carried cargo.
In the Town Square and markets, peddlers hawked their wares.
The Outer City, teeming with countless intertwined lives, was itself the foundation of existence.
But now.
The streets of the Outer City were filled with screams and shrieks.
“R-Run!! It’s the fog!! The fog is coming!!”
“Take the children first! Hurry!!”
“Gaaaaaaahhhhh!!”
In the blink of an eye, a man was dragged toward the riverbank, enveloped in fog.
“P-Please save me! I beg you—!!”
The desperate cries for salvation abruptly ceased.
What remained was only a grotesque sound, as if flesh were being torn asunder.
“Kyaaaaaahhhhh!!”
The chaos spread like a plague in an instant.
Carriages overturned.
People shoved one another to the ground.
The entire Outer City descended into pandemonium.
Through the turmoil, the ashen fog penetrated deeper still.
It was at this very moment that Lucas arrived, leading units of the Royal Guard.
The streets were filled with the wails of children.
Desperate screams for salvation.
And the encroaching ashen fog.
“What in the—!!”
Lucas’s eyes widened in shock.
A scene of catastrophe so horrific it defied description.
This was… truly a calamity.
Lucas clenched his teeth and shouted.
“Secure all evacuation routes! Children and the elderly first!”
“Yes, Commander!!”
The Royal Guard units deployed in emergency response.
They organized the people and secured evacuation routes.
Lucas did not remain idle either.
I drew my sword and pushed forward, cleaving through the mist like a veil.
A vivid aura blade materialized before me.
Slash! Slash!
The ashen fog was torn apart mercilessly.
The mist had no substance, yet Lucas’s aura blade carried the power of “Indomitable”—a force that could sever even the intangible.
“Royal Guard, prioritize saving the people! I’ll carve us a path!”
Slash—!
Lucas’s blade swung once more.
Within the parted mist.
A faint silhouette emerged into view.
A face caked in blood.
A child covered in dust.
An elderly man limping as he stood.
The Royal Guard reacted instantly.
“This way! Can you move!”
One by one, then two by two.
People were saved.
But far more were dying—dying still.
Lucas clenched his teeth and swung his blade harder.
Then, in that moment.
“And who might this be.”
An eerie voice echoed from beyond the fog.
Close yet distant.
Low yet unmistakably clear.
Soon, a figure emerged from within the mist, footsteps deliberate and measured.
A face flawless in every feature.
Ashen hair that seeped like mist itself.
Eyes that swallowed light.
Black irises merged with darkness.
The Second Prince, Blake Battenberg.
“If it isn’t our Kingdom’s loyal hound, Lucas.”
Blake laughed quietly.
And Lucas could sense it immediately.
That Blake was the source of this calamity.
“…Why are you doing this.”
Lucas asked, biting his lip.
Blake answered as though it were obvious.
“The strong dominating the weak—it is the way of the world.”
“That is merely violence.”
“Power conquers justice.”
A sneer flickered across Blake’s dark eyes.
“No, let me be precise. Only those with power can speak of justice.”
“….”
“That is why true justice is established through power. Therefore, to change the system, one must stand at the apex of that very system.”
“….”
“And so I stand here. Does that answer your question?”
Lucas clenched his teeth as he spoke.
“Slaughtering innocent weaklings… is that your justice?”
“Innocent weaklings?”
Blake tilted his head, genuinely perplexed.
“Are the weak truly innocent? Who decided that? Must the weak necessarily be innocent?”
Blake inclined his head at an angle.
Within that gesture lay not mockery or contempt, but genuine inquiry.
“Are the weak inherently virtuous simply because they lack power?”
“….”
“Do the strong become evil merely because they possess strength?”
Blake swallowed a hollow laugh.
“Lucas, you are no different from the logic of the weak.”
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“A double standard. In some kingdoms, they call it rationalization.”
Diverting water to one’s own field.
Thinking and acting only in one’s own favor.
“The weak call what benefits them justice, and what harms them oppression.”
When commoners receive tax cuts, it is economic stimulus.
But when the privileged receive tax cuts, it is a tax break for the rich.
When a commoner exposes wrongdoing, it is courageous justice.
But when a commoner is exposed, it is invasion of privacy.
“The weak appeal to their overwhelming numbers to justify their weakness, envying and resenting the efforts and talents of the strong, dragging them down, and rotting away the world and the Kingdom.”
“….”
“And yet the weak prattle on.”
The will of the people is the will of heaven.
“They usurp the heavens themselves, justifying their own wickedness.”
Witch hunts without evidence.
Forced apologies through mob pressure.
Social burial.
Branding, obliteration of honor.
All of these gain moral superiority under the guise of “the people’s will,”
Masquerading as responsibility-free justice,
And under the name of the majority, the perpetrator vanishes.
Thus do these cruel atrocities continue unchecked by any accountability, growing endlessly without end.
“But the world crafted policies for such weaklings, shirked accountability, and lavished protection upon them.”
The result.
“Only the masses who wielded weakness as a weapon swelled in numbers.”
Thus, a system centered on the weak was established.
Those who fulfilled their duties bore ever greater burdens.
“Those who should have been culled were never culled, and under the guise of morality and ethics, we pitied and embraced them—and now look at the state of things!”
The world began to reward not the strong who rose of their own accord,
but the weak who remained prostrate.
Effort became a loss.
Responsibility became foolishness.
Integrity became the justification for exploitation, and the entire system began to crumble.
“Do you still not understand?”
Blake spoke.
“True evil is the bloated will of the masses—the weak swollen to monstrous proportions!!”
And he continued.
“I will no longer stand idle while this catastrophe unfolds.”
The law of the jungle perverted by artificial compassion.
The weak, lacking both the strength to bear responsibility and the resolve to shoulder it, gain absolution through sheer numbers alone, then ascend to usurp justice itself.
“I will not tolerate this rotten theater of malice!”
Just as pus left untreated never becomes flesh,
by culling the weak—those devoid of value and utility—
“I shall restore the Kingdom’s eternal prosperity and humanity’s true order!!”
* * *
The Underground Dungeon lay just ahead.
‘…There are no guards.’
Not just the dungeon.
The entire Royal Palace stood nearly vacant.
I descended the stairs at once.
Damp air.
The stench of mold and blood.
And the presence of Leon I could sense.
I rushed toward him.
“Your Majesty, are you unharmed?”
“…Adrian? Is that you?”
His voice held no strength whatsoever.
Yet he understood my words and possessed enough vitality to respond.
Fortunately, Blake had not targeted Leon first.
I sharpened my fingernails to razor edges.
Then—crack!
I tore the iron bars of the Underground Dungeon clean away.
“Adrian….”
Leon’s eyes fluttered open to narrow slits.
There were no visible wounds.
But his breathing was perilously shallow.
Without hesitation, I approached and supported him.
Leon’s body had gone limp.
His body heat had faded to the chill of a corpse.
“Do not strain yourself. I will escort you out of here.”
“Where do you intend to go?”
“Is there a place where we can conceal ourselves? So that─.”
“A hideout Blake doesn’t know about?”
…It seemed he understood the situation.
That Blake was orchestrating a coup at this very moment.
As my gaze lowered, the jade pendant emitted a faint luminescence.
Leon’s Current Sight.
Truly, it was an absurdly powerful ability.
I nodded.
“Yes. A place known only to myself would be ideal.”
There was no telling what might happen.
Leon lifted his head.
“Adrian, what about you…?”
“I will─.”
Boom! Crash!
With a tremendous explosion, the ceiling of the Underground Dungeon trembled.
Dirt and stone fragments cascaded down.
“I will go where I am meant to be.”
Leon answered immediately.
“Take me with you.”
“…Pardon?”
“I too must go where I am meant to be.”
Boom! Crash!
Another explosion echoed down.
This time, faint screams of people mingled with the sound.
“…It is too dangerous.”
“Still, I must go.”
Leon did not elaborate further.
“I cannot allow my brother’s foolishness to be written into the Kingdom’s history.”

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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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