The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 366

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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 366. The Weight of the Crown (2)
Leon felt as though he were dreaming.
The woman standing before his eyes was none other than Seraphia.
‘Seraphia…?’
No matter how he looked at her, it was unmistakably Seraphia.
Yet her appearance differed slightly from what Leon remembered.
The last time Leon had seen Seraphia was at the Royal Social Society.
She had been sixteen years old then.
Five years had passed since that day.
Now she was twenty-one.
All traces of her delicate features had vanished.
Leon gazed quietly upon Seraphia’s form.
Silver hair cascading elegantly past her shoulders.
Skin as white and pure as fresh snow.
Two large, luminous eyes that sparkled like rubies embedded in her face.
A visage carved with subtle shadows and depth.
Slightly raised lashes and lips as crimson as a ripe apple.
Like a flower in full bloom, the girl of yesteryear had blossomed into a mature woman.
Yet her pristine elegance remained untouched.
Dignified without excess.
Graceful yet innocent.
…Truly, a goddess of beauty.
“Hah!”
Leon caught his breath.
At the sound, Seraphia’s gaze turned toward him.
“Oh? You’ve awakened?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, round and bright.
At the sight of her approaching with that adorable, rabbit-like expression, Leon bolted upright from the bed.
But then a pain tore through his entire body, and he collapsed back down.
“Ugh!”
He crashed back onto the mattress.
A sensation of being torn apart from within surged through him.
Even breathing became difficult.
Deep in his throat, blood seemed to boil and rise.
It was then.
“Do not spit it out. Swallow it as is.”
Adrian’s voice reached his ears.
Soon after, a cold glass vial touched Leon’s lips.
“Open your mouth. If you vomit now, you will truly die.”
Without time to refuse, a bitter liquid flowed down his throat.
In that instant.
The pain washed away cleanly, replaced by a sensation of warmth.
My hazy consciousness sharpened once more.
Leon exhaled a ragged breath and spoke.
“Ugh… What in the world…?”
“You overexerted your abilities, so your body—”
“Why is Seraphia… here of all places?”
“That’s what you’re curious about?”
Adrian responded with an incredulous expression.
“You’ve literally just returned from the brink of death?”
“Regardless, I’m alive, aren’t I?”
“….”
Adrian fell momentarily silent.
“So this is how Mungu felt.”
Adrian shook his head and replied.
“I came to deliver this. There was no real need to come in person.”
“I was worried about my brother, and… haha.”
Seraphia scratched her cheek sheepishly.
Leon couldn’t tear his gaze from Seraphia.
Her fidgeting movements.
Her shoulders trembling slightly.
Most of all, those eyes that lowered bashfully before peeking back up.
‘I’m losing it.’
…Truly, there was nothing more lovely in this world.
As I gazed at Seraphia for a long while.
“You’re not asking what you were given to drink?”
Adrian interjected tactlessly.
“What is it?”
“A recovery elixir.”
“A recovery elixir?”
Leon stared intently at the liquid in the vial.
A deep emerald liquid.
To the eye, it was…
…like poison.
Adrian then gazed into the void and spoke.
“They refined the sap of Yggdrasil and combined catalytic factors, and then—”
“…?”
“After restructuring the reactive mana composition, they created a primordial regeneration factor? Wait, my blood went into this too?”
Adrian’s expression shifted to genuine surprise.
Then Seraphia beside him added her words.
“Iliana mentioned it. She said there’s no biocatalyst quite like your blood.”
“Is that so?”
“What did she call it again? Some kind of regeneration reaction that’s absolutely impossible to manifest? Reverse regeneration? Something like that.”
Adrian nodded briefly.
Then he spoke to Leon again.
“Well, that’s what she said.”
“…??”
“Honestly, I don’t fully understand it either, so just assume that’s how it is.”
“…???”
Then why did you ask me to explain it?
Leon stared at Adrian with an incredulous expression.
Adrian merely shrugged and muttered.
“Regardless, the effect was potent enough to revive you.”
“Was I really in such critical condition?”
“It wasn’t just critical—you were dead.”
“…What?”
“Your nerves were torn apart from ability overload, and your brain was boiling over.”
“….”
“Your heart and brain essentially stopped simultaneously.”
“At that point, isn’t it resurrection rather than recovery…?”
“Yes, exactly! The court physicians declared you dead!!”
It was Seraphia’s answer.
“But my brother stopped them, saying it wasn’t over yet!”
“As you say, there was indeed a way.”
Adrian answered with a shrug.
His tone was indifferent.
Yet within it lay a feeling of relief.
Perhaps that was why.
“….”
Leon found himself unable to speak.
Unable to voice gratitude.
Unable to voice an apology.
The words simply would not come.
A dull ache spread through his chest.
Adrian, observing his expression, spoke.
“Seraphia, could you step outside for a moment?”
“Huh? Ah… yes, of course!”
Seraphia hesitated briefly, reading the room, then left.
Leon did not try to stop her.
The room after Seraphia’s departure.
Silence descended.
Even the air seemed to sink heavily.
Leon closed his eyes and drew a quiet breath.
I had assassinated The King.
I was a parricide, and a traitor besides.
That fact would never change.
Did Adrian know of it?
“Adrian, I….”
The words never came.
The weight of my own sin was far too heavy to bear.
Even knowing that Adrian was the one person capable of bearing the truth above all others.
“….”
I could not open my mouth easily.
Did I truly deserve to live?
And did I deserve to become king?
I could not answer those questions either.
No—I felt I did not even have the right to answer them.
Leon lowered his head.
Adrian spoke to him thus.
“Do not lower your head.”
As I slowly raised it, my eyes met Adrian’s.
Two crimson irises.
The same color as Seraphia’s.
But not the same light.
Adrian spoke.
“Victory makes one a rightful king; defeat makes one a traitor.”
Win, and you become a rightful king.
Lose, and you become a traitor.
A rightful king and a traitor.
Just as the distance between them is not so great,
“neither is the distance between good and evil.”
It depends on where, from which vantage point,
and how one chooses to perceive it—merely a matter of perspective.
Adrian gazed quietly at Leon.
Though he already knew everything,
Adrian did not speak of it easily.
Leon bit his lips hard.
And my head bent downward once more.
I could not easily raise it.
My shoulders trembled.
The head he could not bear to lift bent lower and lower.
And Adrian spoke again.
“Your Highness.”
….
“Do not bow your head.”
Adrian extended his hand.
Within the heavy silence.
As his hand lifted Leon’s shoulders upright.
“Your crown will fall.”
One who would become king.
Must bear the weight of that crown.
In this very moment.
Leon could finally comprehend the weight of the crown he must carry and endure.
* * *
First Prince Leon had awakened!
The Royal Palace erupted into chaos in an instant.
“H-he’s really awake?”
“His heart had stopped completely…!”
“It’s impossible, how could this…!”
From the attendants to the ministers of the Royal Palace.
Each spread the news in their own way.
And soon.
The news spread throughout the entire Capital.
“His Highness Leon has regained consciousness?!”
“It’s a miracle! There’s no other way to explain it!”
The gloomy atmosphere of the Capital transformed in an instant.
“His Highness Leon has awakened!”
“Good heavens…! Is that truly so?!”
The news spread like wildfire throughout the Capital.
And soon.
It spread across the entire Kingdom along the Silva River.
War and betrayal.
Assassination and conspiracy.
After the long darkness of countless horrors, people began to find hope.
“Our Kingdom will not fall!!”
“The Battenberg Kingdom will rise again!!”
Thus, amid the fervor of a new era and renewed aspirations.
Lucas, Commander of the Royal Guard.
He quietly arranged his belongings.
Military gear neatly organized.
A well-maintained blade.
Lucas set the emblem of the Royal Guard upon it.
The Royal Guard is the Kingdom’s final shield.
Even if the Kingdom trembles.
Even in the moment the Royal Palace crumbles.
The Royal Guard’s loyalty must be directed solely toward the throne.
…Yet I failed to do so.
I turned away despite knowing the truth.
I acquiesced to the lie.
I justified myself through silence.
Though I harbor no regret for that choice, I am unworthy.
“….”
Lucas, who had been gazing down at the Royal Guard’s emblem, slowly turned around.
Beyond the window.
The streets of the Capital were erupting with jubilation.
-His Majesty Leon has awakened!
-Our Kingdom rises again!
-Blessed be Battenberg by divine grace!
A surging euphoria.
It was unmistakably a sign of hope.
I believed in it firmly as well.
Leon would do well.
For he was more noble and stronger than anyone.
He would surely become an excellent king and protect the weak and the innocent.
Only, there was no place for me there.
I turned quietly away.
Just then.
“Lucas, so you’ve been living in a place like this?”
Someone opened the door and entered.
A familiar voice.
A familiar presence.
Yet someone who should never be here.
“Your Majesty…?”
It was Leon.
Leon stood at the doorway and smiled.
“It’s more modest than I expected. More like a retired soldier’s quarters than a commander’s chamber.”
Leon’s gaze turned in one direction.
The Royal Guard’s emblem, neatly placed upon the bed.
Leon stepped slowly into the room without taking his eyes from the emblem.
“Blake said it once. That the weak must be culled.”
“….”
“Yet only we humans shelter the weak beneath the guise of morality and ethics, and he deemed that a transgression against nature’s law.”
Leon’s gaze drifted momentarily toward the window.
The streets of the Capital, brimming with jubilation.
Observing that scene, Leon spoke once more.
“But ultimately, Adrian shattered that philosophy entirely.”
Adrian had said it plainly.
Protecting the weak stems not from morality and ethics.
Rather, it is humanity’s most intelligent survival strategy.
The natural law of survival of the fittest, employed to secure genetic diversity.
Lucas and Leon both heard those words in that moment.
Yet Leon spoke nonetheless.
“Still, I do not believe Blake’s words were entirely wrong.”
Witch hunts without evidence.
Forced apologies through mob pressure.
Social burial.
Branding, obliteration of honor.
All of it claiming moral superiority under the pretext of ‘public sentiment’.
Masquerading as justice without accountability.
The perpetrator vanishes beneath the banner of the majority.
Thus, such cruel atrocities persist without anyone bearing responsibility, growing endlessly.
“Yet we never demanded accountability—only lavished protection.”
In the end, effort becomes loss.
Responsibility becomes foolishness.
Sincerity becomes the justification for exploitation in this age.
“Blake, at least, faced reality.”
“….”
“Only, his path was slightly askew.”
Leon spoke.
“Lucas, I shall become king and build a just kingdom.”
Where the weak are not merely recipients of charity.
But become fellow subjects standing beside us.
Where the strong are not merely bearers of burden.
But become revered figures of respect.
Such a just kingdom.
“Yet the one who speaks of a just kingdom shall forge the cruelest realm.”
They say the most terrifying force is not evil, but justice.
Evil stirs guilt.
Justice does not.
As Blake had become.
If one believes oneself to be righteous, one can crush others without hesitation. That’s what I believe.
“True evil, in my view, is nothing but justice gone astray.”
Leon lifted his head.
“So Lucas, do not trust me.”
“…!”
“Do not think that I am different from Blake.”
Lucas’s eyes widened.
Leon continued with unwavering resolve.
“Within me dwells the same arrogance as his, and the justice I have forged may one day trample upon someone as well.”
So if.
Such a time should come.
“Lucas, strike me down with your own hand.”
“…!!”
“As commander of the Royal Guard, execute the regicide who murdered His Majesty and usurped the throne—the traitor.”
…A traitor.
That was right.
Leon was a traitor.
“Lucas, is it not true that what you must protect is not me?”
The Kingdom’s final shield.
Lucas, commander of the Royal Guard.
What Lucas must protect was not Leon.
The people who would be violated by the usurper of the throne.
They were the weak whom Lucas must defend, the innocent ones he was bound to protect.
In this very moment.
“Lucas, stand where you are meant to stand.”
Lucas could now understand the position a knight must occupy.
* * *
The rebellion that had turned the entire Kingdom upside down.
With Blake’s coup d’état, it finally reached its end.
As the situation gradually drew to a close.
“Hmm.”
I could not shake away several doubts that lingered in my mind.
First of all.
“How did Blake know Ian’s swordsmanship?”

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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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