The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 7

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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 7. The Wastrel of House Whitewolf (2)
The Frost Trial Grounds.
Literally speaking, a place where frost descends and trials are conducted.
Interpreted more broadly, it referred to a location for martial arts practice.
In simpler terms, it was the ‘training grounds’ where military education and drills were conducted throughout the Count’s domain, where soldiers honed their bodies.
In other words, Adrian was currently at the training grounds.
It was only natural that Kai’s expression turned foolish at this revelation.
Seraphia, who had been listening quietly beside him, tilted her head to the left in confusion.
“That bastard is right now—”
“Kai!”
Seraphia’s voice cut through the moment sharply.
Kai quickly corrected himself.
“…You mean to say that Adrian is currently at the Frost Trial Grounds?”
“Indeed.”
Bernard nodded immediately.
Of course, there was no reason for Bernard to lie.
Which meant Adrian truly was at the Frost Trial Grounds right now.
But did that even make sense?
A wastrel who spent every day drowning in gambling and debauchery, at the Frost Trial Grounds?
“What is he doing there?”
Kai furrowed his brow as he asked.
Of course, there was only one thing to do at the Frost Trial Grounds: ‘training’.
Yet it was unbelievable.
In the ten years Kai had known Adrian, he had never once trained at the Frost Trial Grounds.
He had never even ventured near the place, let alone trained there.
So what wind had blown him there overnight to suddenly begin training?
It was impossible unless the man himself had changed entirely.
And people changing was nearly impossible.
There must be some other purpose for his visit to the Frost Trial Grounds.
“He is conducting his training.”
Yet Bernard’s answer came back unchanged.
Even Seraphia found this difficult to believe, and she asked on Kai’s behalf.
“My brother is training?”
“Indeed.”
Bernard’s answer remained the same.
They both knew Bernard would never tell a lie.
Yet Kai could not bring himself to believe it.
“What kind of training could he possibly be doing at the Frost Trial Grounds?”
After all, Adrian possessed no talent whatsoever for swordsmanship.
And that was not all.
Spearmanship, swordsmanship, archery—the list went on.
I possessed not a shred of talent for martial arts.
More precisely, it would be accurate to say my talent for Aura was abysmal.
Not merely abysmal—it was utterly shattered.
If talent could be quantified numerically, my Aura potential would be rated as zero.
But did I possess talent in magic, then?
That was not the case either.
I could not wield Mana Force at all.
Consequently, my talent for mana could also be said to be zero.
So what manner of training could someone like me possibly undertake at the Frost Trial Grounds?
“That is….”
Bernard drew out his words with deliberate hesitation.
A certain bewilderment was evident upon his face.
“The training he conducts is so peculiar that I scarcely know how to explain it….”
“Brother is conducting peculiar training?”
Even to Seraphia’s question, Bernard could not readily provide an answer.
What manner of training could possibly warrant such a reaction?
What was Adrian doing that would cause Bernard—a man who rarely betrayed emotion—to display such bewilderment?
“I shall go and observe for myself.”
Kai made his way toward the Frost Trial Grounds, situated at the periphery of Count Whitewolf’s Castle.
* * *
A crude wooden structure erected upon bare earth.
Within it stood thick ropes connecting bars and wooden pillars spaced irregularly throughout, while heavy boulders and massive logs rolled about haphazardly in the surrounding space.
Upon the walls hung weathered training shields and blades.
Scarecrows, fastened with crude leather belts, were crudely stitched and stored away.
This place, drenched in sweat and heat, paid no heed to the merciless cold bestowed by the Snowy Mountain.
[Frost Trial Grounds]
The training grounds where the soldiers of Count Whitewolf’s Castle honed their skills. True to its purpose, the Frost Trial Grounds was filled with numerous soldiers.
Yet contrary to its intended function, the soldiers were not training.
“Ah, no….”
“What… what is that?”
They merely gathered and watched as someone conducted their training.
Following the soldiers’ gazes, I beheld the figure they observed.
A man was devoted entirely to his practice.
Dark raven hair and delicate, handsome features.
Adrian Whitewolf, the eldest son of House Whitewolf.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
His breathing, rough yet rhythmic, was perfectly measured.
It was firm, yet possessed a certain restraint.
Yet this breathing did not arise from the practice of any martial technique.
“Hgh…! Hgh…!”
Merely pained groans escaping with the strain of lifting such tremendous weight.
Nothing more than rough, ragged breathing naturally expelled in the process.
In other words, Adrian was not conducting martial training—he was engaging in pure physical conditioning.
More specifically, Adrian was focusing his efforts on muscle development.
Muscle growth was a crucial element for any knight.
It directly affected the efficiency of one’s aura.
When channeling the same amount of aura, the difference in power output could vary by several-fold to several-hundred-fold depending on the underlying physical capacity of the body.
A robust body produced robust strength.
This truth remained unchanged even after awakening to aura.
Therefore, physical conditioning was as essential and vital as aura training itself.
But that said—
“Hghhhhh…!!”
…that was hardly an invitation to go to such extremes.
The instruction was to condition the muscles, nothing more.
It absolutely did not mean to pulverize them into oblivion!
“I-Instructor… is that even possible…?”
One of the soldiers posed the question. Leverton, a knight of Count Whitewolf’s Castle and conditioning instructor, offered no response.
More accurately, he was too stunned to formulate one.
“!!!!!!”
The shock that struck Leverton bordered on sheer astonishment.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Just look at Adrian hoisting that impossibly heavy barbell.
There he stood, bearing what appeared to be at least 300 kilograms across his shoulders, training his lower body with relentless repetition!
‘Even I wouldn’t dare attempt such a weight…!’
Was this… truly possible?
This was impossible without channeling aura.
Then was Adrian using aura?
Absolutely not.
Adrian possessed no talent for aura whatsoever.
Not merely lacking—his affinity approached zero.
No one in this castle was unaware of this fact.
Which meant this was pure physical strength…
“W-What…!”
Leverton simply could not believe it.
How could a human accomplish such a feat?
And of all people, it was Adrian.
The wastrel of House Whitewolf, drowning himself in gambling and debauchery.
A pale, sickly noble heir who had never once undergone serious training or conditioning in his entire life.
Adrian, so fragile he seemed he might shatter at a single touch.
Before Leverton became a training instructor at Count Whitewolf’s Castle, he had been a mercenary.
Then, upon the invitation of the previous Count, he left his mercenary life behind and became the castle’s training instructor.
It had already been over ten years since he took up the role of training instructor.
Yet he could say it with certainty.
This was a first.
‘This… this relentless…!!’
Never had he encountered such a relentless, incorrigible specimen!
Incorrigible?
Could Adrian truly be described by mere words like ‘incorrigible’?
The physical training Adrian was undertaking right now.
It was not something a human could endure.
Crack! Crackle! Snap!
Each time Adrian lifted the barbell, a grotesque sound erupted from his thighs.
That sound signaled that his muscles were not merely tearing—they were rupturing.
‘This… this…!!!’
How could this transcend the bounds of physical training and still be called human?
As long as one is born human, biological limits must inevitably exist.
And aura allowed one to overcome such biological constraints.
But Adrian could not wield aura.
In this very moment, Adrian was nothing but a mere ‘human’—
Crack! Crackle! Snap!
‘How on earth…!!’
The common sense Leverton had held as absolute truth began to shatter completely.
Muscle growth, after all, depended on ‘recovery’.
By repeating high-intensity exercise, one damaged the muscles, and as the damaged muscles recovered, they grew stronger.
But even that had its ‘limits’.
If the damage reached rupture and became irreparable, one would lose all strength permanently.
A limit was called a limit precisely because it was a limit.
The price of transgressing it was never light.
And yet—
Gurgle, gurgle-gurgle.
…What in the world was that?
* * *
Thud! Boom!
As I hurled the barbell to the ground, a tremendous tremor reverberated through the air.
My skin had turned not merely red, but a vivid crimson.
It burned with an intense, searing heat.
From that heat, thick waves of steam rose and curled upward from my bare chest.
My muscles had entered a state beyond recovery.
The ruptured muscles could no longer support me.
My body went limp, crashing to the ground in that very instant.
◆I’m… I’m not in my right mind!!!
Suddenly, text materialized before my eyes.
Starting with that message, additional lines of text cascaded forth.
◆You can use the skill ‘Regeneration [C+]’ to restore your ruptured muscles.
◆Required nutrient – Protein
◆Will you consume protein to regenerate your ruptured muscles?
Regeneration [C+]—a skill I had acquired by devouring Icetroll.
There was no hesitation in my acceptance.
Yet my completely ruptured muscles refused even the slightest twitch of a finger.
Fortunately, activating the skill required nothing more than my will.
◆Skill ‘Regeneration [C+]’ is activated.
◆Consuming vast amounts of protein to regenerate ruptured muscles.
As the text appeared, the muscles throughout my entire body began to writhe like clay.
If muscles possessed consciousness of their own, surely this is what it would look like.
The ruptured muscle fibers were reconstructed, weaving together with far greater density.
The newly reconstructed muscle density was so tightly packed, so densely compressed, that not even a sliver of space remained.
And then, as regeneration completed entirely—
◆Muscle fiber tissue has surpassed its limits!
◆Muscle fibers are being reconstructed anew!
◆Strength attribute increases by +4!!
I could confirm that my Strength attribute had risen by +4.
* * *
“Uwaaaahhh!!”
Leverton let out a scream before he could stop himself.
And for good reason—look at that!
Gurgle, gurrrrgle.
Adrian’s muscles were undulating violently.
It unmistakably revealed that Adrian’s ruptured muscles were recovering.
“Wh… what?”
“Wh-what in the world is that…!!”
Leverton and all the soldiers alike gaped in shock.
How… how is such a thing even possible?
There are surely limits to human recovery.
Wounds from cuts or tears in the skin can heal.
But what if a limb is severed?
That’s the end of it.
Human recovery cannot regenerate a severed limb.
The muscle rupture Adrian had just suffered was on that level of injury.
A fatal, irreversible wound equivalent to having a limb severed.
Yet in a single breath, he recovered completely.
That… is not the recovery of a human.
Without invoking magic, there’s no way that could—
‘Magic? That’s magic?’
No, even magic cannot achieve such a thing.
Holy power—the force said to be the strength of the divine.
Only at that level could one begin to grasp it within the realm of comprehension.
And even then, only if she were the Saint of that distant Holy Kingdom.
Only then could one think, “Ah, if it’s the Saint’s holy power, then perhaps such a thing is possible,” and find understanding.
In simple terms, Adrian was no different from having the Saint as his personal trainer and coach.
It was exactly the same as having his body grow at an incredible pace through the Saint’s holy power.
In technical terms, he was undergoing “Imperial Cultivation.”
‘Undergoing Imperial Cultivation…?’
No, more precisely, he was actively *performing* Imperial Cultivation himself.
“This… this can’t be real…!”
“How is such a thing even possible…!!!”
The shock that struck Leverton and the soldiers transcended even their astonishment.

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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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