The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 100: Revival (1) (Part 1)

The mood in the County had been elated ever since Serapia’s recovery.
Cheers from the people, the laughter of children—the joy had filled the air.

Yet now, all of that had been buried beneath the stillness of dawn.

KABOOM!

Another dull roar echoed through the air.

Bernard quickly straightened his clothes and rushed outside.

Though the bitter winter was finally passing in the County, the dawn air remained cold.
He didn’t even have time to pull his collar tight as he hurried forward.

And the first thing he saw—

Were the castle guards stationed for the night shift.
Soldiers standing frozen, torches in hand.

“Wh-what the…!”
“Good heavens…!”

The torchlight illuminated their expressions—filled with horror.
Bernard’s gaze instinctively followed theirs.

And then—

“……!!!!”

His eyes widened in disbelief.
The sight before him—it was staggering.

Massive wooden crates. Sacks of grain covered in cloth.
Baskets overflowing with fine textiles.
Heaps upon heaps of supplies.

The sheer scale of it all—without exaggeration—

“Th-this is impossible…!!”

It looked as though the entire market of Frecce had been relocated here.

Connor, the head of the Golden Fields Merchant Group.
He was a member of the Frecce Merchant Guild, primarily dealing in grain distribution.

His stock included barley, wheat, rye, oats, buckwheat, corn, and even rare rice imported from the South.

But recently, the lawless city of Baoless had collapsed.

Until then, Baoless had controlled several trade routes, frequently raiding goods by force.
Naturally, no merchant dared head there.
What’s more, nearby trade routes had also been essentially blocked.

So the fall of Baoless?

It meant trade routes across the continent had reopened.

With new routes came a trade boom for the merchant city Caravana, and grain from all over began flooding in.

Supply overflowed.
But demand hadn’t changed.
Connor’s grain turned into surplus stock, rotting in a warehouse corner.

He had been deep in worry when—

“You… you mean all of it…?!”

A man with black hair.
Adrian Whitewolf, head of the Predator Merchant Group.

THUD!

At the sight of the box of gold coins Adrian placed before him, all of Connor’s worries vanished in an instant.

Then, as Adrian reached out—

Whoosh—!
The stockpiled grain in the warehouse disappeared in a blink.

“W-WHOAAAA?!”

Connor leapt to his feet.

“If any of the listed items are in short supply, deliver the rest directly to the County of Whitewolf.”

Adrian’s follow-up order knocked Connor’s consciousness right out of him.

And he wasn’t the only one.
Grain wasn’t the only product to become overstocked after Baoless’s collapse.

Perhaps that’s why—

“Ahaha! Ahahahahahahaha!!”

The nearby textile merchant, Berald, couldn’t stop laughing with joy.
His premium silks, once left to rot in his warehouse, had all been bought by Adrian.

Scenes like this happened everywhere across Frecce’s streets.

“Here are 100 bundles of firewood!”
“I’ll bring the 200 rolls of parchment right away!”

Merchants shouted through sweat-drenched brows, and Adrian nodded while signing contract after contract.

Bakeries and taverns bustled to restock sold-out goods.
Orders poured into the blacksmiths, and their furnaces roared.

The smell of food.
The clanging of hammers.
The sounds of deals closing.

The night in Frecce glowed brighter than any midday.

Under the streetlamps—

Grains, textiles, herbs, firewood, everyday essentials, and weaponry—
All of Frecce’s major goods were being swept up.

“Three months’ revenue in a single day…?”
“M-my god…!!”
“Is this really happening?!”

Adrian’s absurd spending power.

It was more than just consumer behavior—it was shaking the entire economy of Frecce.

“Hire the best mercenaries from the guild immediately! We need to protect the shipments headed to the County of Whitewolf!”
“No ore for forging? Then pressure the Miners’ Guild!!”
“Notify the Gatherers’ Guild at once! We need herbs in bulk!”

An unprecedented economic boom.
A surge of vitality unseen before.

And after five days—

To the people, Adrian was no longer just the head of the Predator Merchant Group.

He had become the new symbol of Frecce’s prosperity.

Especially to the Merchant Guild.

“““Please come again, Lord Adrian!!”””

Now, every person in Frecce bowed to him at a perfect 180 degrees.

An endless mountain of supplies.

Bernard’s eyes followed the procession of goods.
And saw that it continued past the County’s warehouse.

“H-hngh…!”

The sheer magnitude left him breathless with shock.
His jaw wouldn’t close. And at that moment—

“Perfect timing.”

A sudden voice called out.

“Lord Adrian…?”

It was none other than Adrian.

He stepped out from between the piles of supplies, calm as ever—
As if he already knew Bernard had arrived.

Bernard struggled to move his gaping mouth.

“W-what is all this…?”
“Resources for the recovery and revival of the County.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Something like that. It’s a long story, so just go with it.”

Adrian pointed with his chin and continued.

“Anyway, Bernard, summon every non-working resident in the County by tomorrow morning.”
“You mean…?”
“People who aren’t currently engaged in production activities.”

Bernard couldn’t answer right away.

“…Forgive me, but may I ask why?”

It wasn’t easy to summon every resident.
Doing so without reason would obviously provoke discontent.

Fortunately, Adrian didn’t ignore the question this time.

“Bernard, as you know, agriculture is impossible in the County of Whitewolf.”

A territory gripped by year-round cold.
A place barely habitable by human standards.

“Likewise, hunting, gathering, and livestock farming are out of the question.”

The frozen land couldn’t grow crops or raise animals.
The only form of production within the County was monster hunting.

“That’s why most non-working residents are women, right?”

It simply wasn’t an environment suited for female labor.
Just as Adrian said, most of the non-working population were women.

“Looking at the data…”

Adrian swept his gaze across the air and continued.

“The County has 1,148 residents. Of those, 410 women are aged 15 to 39, and another 149 are between 40 and 59.”
“H-how do you know that…?”

Bernard’s eyes went wide.

Because what Adrian had just said—
Was information you couldn’t know without a precise understanding of the County’s administrative system.

In territorial governance, population data is vital.
It determines labor capacity, economic strength, and military power.

It guides taxation, military mobilization, resource management, and public order.

There’s a reason why census work is said to be the foundation of all administration.

But it was also the hardest thing to get right.

With no standardized system, errors were common.
People often submitted false reports out of fear of taxes or conscription.
And there were never enough officials to track it all down.

Even Bernard didn’t have such precise numbers.

In other words, this wasn’t information some wastrel could possibly know.

Of course, Adrian wasn’t a wastrel anymore.
But that had only been true for a short while.
After all, he had spent the past ten years living like one.

Gambling and indulging in debauchery instead of learning estate administration—how could he possibly…?

“There are a total of 559 women. If we exclude those unable to work and those caring for children…”

Adrian swept his gaze through the air again before continuing.

“That leaves about 391.”

“…”