The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 79

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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 79. Misunderstanding
Vister, who had tried to stab me earlier, had paid the price for his attempt.
Those men belonged to the Black Grasp.
“I had some friction with the Black Grasp thugs.”
I recounted the actual events that had transpired.
Since it was genuinely what had happened, there was nothing suspicious about my account.
In the Lawless City, such retaliatory strikes were commonplace.
And they were absolutely convinced I was Avarus.
“I dealt with them. There was some commotion in the process, though.”
I gestured toward the scene of carnage before us.
Most of the blood and flesh scattered about was mine, though traces of Isolde’s were interspersed throughout.
Aketa and his men surveyed the slaughterhouse and the completely devastated alley, and then—
“Truly… remarkable!”
“You are the Executor!”
“Surely you are the one blessed with his divine mandate!”
Behind their masks, Aketa’s eyes gleamed with fervent admiration.
“I would estimate around a hundred have fallen by your hand.”
“A hundred Black Grasp operatives? Not just any Vister?”
“They are no mere rabble…”
“And in a Transmogrified state, no less?!”
Their astonishment was nearly as transparent as a holographic projection—
‘Perhaps I overdid it.’
That thought did cross my mind.
And perhaps that was why.
“””You are truly magnificent!”””
Now Aketa and his men had moved beyond mere belief to outright veneration.
* * *
Shadow Alley.
This was where intelligence requests, secret information trades between kingdoms, and assassination contracts—all manner of clandestine dealings—flowed in and out.
The darkest and most secretive place in Violess.
As I stepped into Shadow Alley—
The first thing to greet me was a labyrinth of intersecting paths.
Dust and refuse accumulated on the ground.
Mold and moisture clung to the walls.
Even the magical lanterns failed to function properly, their light flickering dimly, leaving most of the alley shrouded in complete darkness.
In one corner, figures draped in black cloaks conducted transactions in hushed tones.
At the sound of my approach, they flinched, their bodies tensing.
Their eyes fixed on me were filled with suspicion and wariness.
Ignoring them, I ventured deeper—
A peculiar presence registered against my senses.
An intentional presence, deliberately revealed.
As expected, I spotted Isolde wearing a white deer mask among the strange graffiti scrawled across the wall.
Isolde’s clothing was exactly as it had been right after our fight.
Perhaps she hadn’t had the luxury of changing clothes, or the situation simply hadn’t allowed it.
‘Looks like she had quite the scuffle here.’
Around Isolde lay five or six men, their bodies mangled and bloodied.
From the looks of it, they’d been the ones trying to ambush her.
Such occurrences were commonplace in the Lawless City.
I retrieved the pouch of gold coins from my inventory.
I cut it appropriately with the dragon’s claw and fashioned it into a cloak that could cover her body.
As I offered it to Isolde—
She didn’t accept the cloak, merely gazing at me quietly.
Beyond the mask, topaz-like golden eyes gleamed.
She still seemed to harbor suspicion toward me—
“As you witnessed earlier, I am not a member of the Dark Merchant Company. Rather, I stand in opposition to them.”
Isolde offered no response at first, then—
Click.
She suddenly removed the white deer mask she wore.
And there, gradually revealed, was Isolde’s face.
Platinum hair that gleamed softly even in the thick darkness.
Lips soft as a rose, tinged with the pale pink of a tulip.
Skin pure as a lily, refined and the color of ivory.
Features carved with such delicate precision they seemed flawless.
Her expression, from which no emotion could be discerned, was cold as ice—
Yet her beauty remained, as always, utterly unrivaled.
More than unrivaled—it was overwhelming.
For Isolde was the Saint, the divine representative.
How could the representative of such a supreme and eternal being be anything but beautiful?
Isolde, who received the faith of all believers, possessed the most perfect beauty humanity could conceive.
The ultimate aura known as holy power had ‘sculpted’ her into beauty itself.
Moreover, holy power was the manifestation of the collective imagination.
Therefore, Isolde’s beauty transcended even the subjective standards of beauty that varied from person to person.
Anyone who beheld her was captivated, and even those not captivated could not help but feel affection—a phenomenon that transcended all races.
It was no accident that the Lycanthrope harbored such obsession with Isolde.
In that sense, I too was not immune to her beauty, though such appreciation did not translate into harboring different feelings toward her.
First and foremost, Isolde was my superior.
Not my direct superior, but the Commander of the Holy Command—a rank far above my own.
Above all, she was the woman Ian had loved.
In short, my direct superior’s woman.
And my friend’s woman.
Even though we never dated and she rejected me.
As I regarded Isolde with an impassive gaze—
“I apologize.”
Isolde bowed her head to me.
“I believed you were an executive of the Dark Merchant Company.”
As expected, my suspicion had been correct.
But the fact that she was apologizing to me now meant—
“You believe I’m no longer a member of the Dark Merchant Company?”
“Yes.”
Isolde answered without hesitation.
But I never expected she would believe me so easily.
Unlike what I had anticipated—needing to present evidence multiple times to convince her—Isolde was trusting me willingly.
It was somewhat unexpected, but this made the conversation far simpler.
“Then I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Please go ahead.”
Isolde displayed her willingness to answer anything.
* * *
Through several questions, I learned why Isolde was here.
And why she had misunderstood me and attempted to kill me.
I received answers to all of it.
‘The rumors about monster meat have already spread to the Holy Kingdom.’
Information that reached not Ian’s ears, but Isolde’s.
Yet that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
After all, I had managed to meet Isolde, the princess of the Holy Kingdom—someone rarely encountered.
In other words, the Predator Merchant Company’s strategy was working perfectly.
“But you came to the Lawless City alone?”
“Yes.”
I had anticipated as much, but hearing the answer left me speechless.
For a woman to come alone to this perilous Lawless City, where even adventurers feared to tread, was madness.
Of course, Isolde was no ordinary woman.
Still, she was a princess of the Holy Kingdom.
For someone of such noble station to move about alone?
It could certainly be called reckless—
‘Nothing has changed about her.’
That was what made Isolde the hero she was.
A hero who, whenever she perceived danger, stepped forward to resolve it herself.
The reason was that Isolde trusted no one but herself.
Or rather, she regarded everyone else as those she must protect.
She was the princess of the Holy Kingdom and the Saint.
She was God’s representative, bearing the faith and hopes of countless subjects upon her shoulders.
From childhood—no, from birth itself—Isolde carried the weight of people’s expectations and desires.
Because of this, she never allowed herself to waver or show weakness.
She sacrificed herself to protect others, believing that was the reason for her existence.
A hero who endured loneliness and solitude in silence, never revealing her own pain.
‘That’s why I loved Ian.’
And that’s why I abandoned him.
Isolde never relied on or depended on others.
A vessel that contained everything.
In another sense, it was a vessel that ‘carried’ everything as well.
In any case.
There wasn’t a single difference between the Isolde I remembered and the one before me now.
At this point in time, I was the black sheep of Count Whitewolf’s House, but Isolde was simply Isolde.
In that sense.
A rather good idea occurred to me.
“I understand this is a situation that could be misunderstood, but separate from that, I really nearly died.”
“I’m truly sorry.”
Isolde bowed her head once more.
Though her emotional expression was minimal, I could tell her apology was genuine.
‘This is rather disconcerting.’
And so I was quite taken aback.
A sincere apology from Isolde—something I’d never received even during my time with the Allied Forces.
And it came from that stoic Holy Command commander herself.
It was quite bewildering.
I wasn’t even sure if this was appropriate.
Yet I shook my head.
Regardless of rank, Isolde’s attempt to kill me outright was undoubtedly a mistake.
“If you’ll grant me one request, I can let this matter slide.”
“I’ll do anything I can.”
Isolde answered without hesitation.
She too acknowledged her wrongdoing.
And Isolde would truly do anything within her power to make amends.
“First, let’s change your clothes.”
I draped a cloak around Isolde’s shoulders and moved forward.
* * *
While purchasing clothes for Isolde, I acquired new garments for myself as well.
Just as Isolde’s holy power couldn’t restore fabric, my Regeneration [B+] was equally useless against damaged clothing.
And since I was buying anyway.
I purchased hundreds of outfits in advance.
Thanks to my infinite inventory, storage was unlimited, so I could change into fresh clothes whenever needed.
“Let’s change masks as well.”
Isolde’s appearance was far too striking; a mask was absolutely necessary.
But Isolde’s white deer mask.
Though it concealed her face, it stood out in its own way.
So the mask I selected for Isolde was—
An ogre mask.
It suited her remarkably well.
Isolde switched to the ogre mask without complaint, and—
“What exactly is this favor you wish to ask of me?”
She cut straight to the point.
The more I observed her, the more she resembled her Allied Forces days.
I walked slowly, and Isolde followed me like a duckling trailing its mother.
“How much do you know about the Ashen Mask in the Black Market?”
“I’m aware they’re the Vister faction under the Dark Merchant Company.”
But she seemed unaware of the Dark Merchant Company’s true identity.
That made sense—it was I who uncovered the Dark Merchant Company’s secrets during my Allied Forces days.
It would have been strange for Isolde to know at this point in time.
“Then do you know why the Dark Merchant Company created the Vister faction called the Ashen Mask?”
“Isn’t it to conceal their identity?”
Half right, half wrong.
“It’s to foment chaos in Violess.”
“Chaos?”
“Currently, no single Vister faction completely dominates Violess. Instead, power is divided between two factions—”
“You’re referring to the Crimson Soiree and the Black Grasp?”
“Precisely.”
The Crimson Soiree of the Red Light District.
The Black Grasp of the Gambling District.
“But the Dark Merchant Company—the Ashen Mask of the Black Market—isn’t even mentioned. They could seize control of Violess if they wished.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Yes. They deliberately refrain from acting.”
The reason being—
“War is the greatest business.”
The Free City, where no absolute power like lords or nobles exists.
In Violess, the Lawless City among them, absolute power is ‘force.’
With force alone, anyone can seize power.
Therefore, the absence of absolute power controlling Violess means—
“Countless Vister factions emerge, each vying to become Violess’s master.”
Like orcs, goblins, kobolds, and trolls in a mountain range without ogres.
All manner of lesser monsters scrambling to claim dominion over the peaks.
Thus Violess exists in perpetual turmoil, day after day.
And with that chaos comes demand for illegal weapons, drugs, information, supplies, and more—
Demand for such goods surged, and the Dark Merchant Company supplied them, generating enormous profits.
“They are deliberately creating power vacuums to incite conflict among Vister’s factions.”
Perpetual strife was manufactured.
Territorial disputes erupted with relentless frequency.
Vister’s thugs exploited the innocent poor.
The impoverished, unable to endure such exploitation, joined Vister’s ranks.
And thus the cycle of endless conflict continued.
This vicious spiral, repeated endlessly, had birthed what Violess had become today.
Once a greedy marquessate, then a mercenary stronghold after their rebellion, now a city of criminals—such was our present reality.
Behind all of it stood the Dark Merchant Company.
In other words, the Fallen Soul Worshippers.
In that sense, the rise of any particular Vister faction was not the outcome the Dark Merchant Company desired—
“The reason they tolerate the Crimson Soiree in the Red Light District is simple.”
The Dark Merchant Company, having abducted noble daughters from each kingdom.
Young girls sold to cover usurious debts.
Women cursed by dark magic, and countless others.
“By trafficking them to the Red Light District, they reap substantial profits.”
“Then what of the Black Grasp in the Gambling District…?”
“It was necessary to create an environment where wealth could never accumulate in Violess.”
The puppet master orchestrating all of this from the shadows—the Dark Merchant Company.
They manipulated not merely Violess, but entire kingdoms and the Continent itself in this manner.
And later, when The Emperor invaded the Continent, this very manipulation played a decisive role in its collapse within a single moment.
Just one year.
That was the time it took for every kingdom and city on the Continent to vanish from the map.
Therefore, the Black Market of Violess had to be destroyed at all costs.
But it was far easier said than done.
Since Violess was a crucial stronghold for the Dark Merchant Company, its security and defenses were formidable.
No matter what, I could not face the entire Dark Merchant Company alone.
So my original plan was merely to strike and withdraw.
I intended to launch a full campaign after reuniting with Ian—
“What I ask of you, Isolde, is quite simple.”
Isolde, the hero of the Allied Forces.
Though not quite Ian’s equal, she was the Allied Forces’ greatest asset.
When I stopped walking, Isolde, who had matched my pace, stopped as well.
She lifted her gaze to meet mine.
I opened my mouth, meeting her eyes.
“First, the collapse of the Black Market.”
Ultimately—
“I ask for your strength in bringing about the ruin of Violess itself.”
Behind her mask, Isolde’s golden eyes gleamed with intensity.
Her eyes gleamed like topaz.
There was a hint of surprise in them—
“Why do you ask?”
“Truthfully, I expected you to make a different request.”
“A different request?”
Isolde stared at me intently.
She said nothing more.
But thinking of my notorious reputation as the mad dog of Count Whitewolf’s House, I could roughly guess what she meant.
“You were willing to hear me out?”
“Not entirely, though.”
What was she talking about?
“Don’t say such things, even in jest.”
“I’m not jesting.”
…
“I tried to kill you outright, after all.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“From my perspective, yes. But from yours—it was merely an excuse.”
In any case.
“But will just the two of us be enough?”
Isolde expressed some concern.
As she said, confronting the Dark Merchant Company was no simple task.
If it were possible, Isolde would have already torn the place apart long ago.
“Don’t worry about that.”
But there was little cause for real concern.
“The Dark Merchant Company believes me to be one of their executives, just as you once misunderstood.”
The Dark Merchant Company held firm in their belief that I was Avarus.
By now, they had moved beyond belief into outright worship.
And as the Special Forces Duke Commander, I had executed countless covert operations—intelligence gathering, espionage, and the like.
“You shake the Black Market from the outside, Isolde. I’ll sow chaos within the Dark Merchant Company itself.”
Disruption operations were my specialty.
Once the entire Black Market began to tremble—
“All of Violess’s underworld figures, including the Crimson Soiree and the Black Grasp, will make their move.”
“…?”
“Once we control the Black Market, seizing absolute power in Violess will be child’s play.”
“…Ah.”
Isolde let out a small exclamation, as if understanding at last.
Hidden behind her mask, but I could sense her lips parting slightly.
“So, shall we cause some chaos together?”
Then, beyond the mask—
Isolde’s golden eyes gleamed with brilliance.
“I believe I’ve already answered that question.”
Then came a sharp crack.
She clenched her fists with such force her knuckles whitened.
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
The next instant, Isolde vanished from sight—
BOOOOOM—!
A tremendous explosion erupted from deep within the Black Market.
WEEEE—! WEEEE—!
Alarm sirens wailed in succession, shrieking warnings of intrusion.
Magical barriers activated from all directions, unleashing torrents of spells.
But Isolde paid no mind to the barriers or anything else—
Crash! Smash!
She simply obliterated everything in her path, charging recklessly into the Black Market—
…like an ogre incarnate.
The ogre mask she wore only amplified the effect—she was the very embodiment of an ogre.
Though admittedly, she was somewhat less destructive than an actual ogre—
“Some things never change.”
And that was when it happened.
◆Hidden Quest [Perfect Weather for Causing Chaos] has begun.
The words “Hidden Quest” materialized before my eyes.

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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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