The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 108: Capital, Battenbart (Part 2)

Edmund, the palace’s Chief Steward, stepped forward to intervene, but it was pointless.
Walter still wore that smirking expression, his head cocked with mocking ease.

The knights of the Royal Knights guarding Walter stood idly by.
But their faces—filled with sneers and disdain—were fixed on Adrian.

Everyone in the capital and the palace seemed to know Adrian’s infamous reputation as a thug from the border.

Even Avarus, who had disguised himself as Viscount Benneron via Transmog, had recognized him instantly upon hearing that title.

“The thug from the remote regions actually dragged himself all the way to the palace—how delightful.”

Walter didn’t even try to hide his scorn.
The Royal Knights mirrored that sneer without restraint.

‘So that’s how he wants to play it.’

Sending out a prince to provoke me, trying to get a rise—
It was textbook court scheming. Sleazy and cunning, just as expected from the palace’s resident snake.

But even the cunning Marquess of Segretus had overlooked one critical fact—

“When they said you came a long way, I didn’t think you’d drag along a whole harem too. Guess the rumors are true—you do have a knack for that.”

He knew full well the girls with Adrian were simply maids accompanying Serapia. Yet he said it anyway, deliberately, pathetically.

“So the stories are right. Your talents shine more in bed than on the battlefield, huh?”

Adrian had heard far worse in his past life—provocations far more vulgar, cruel, and creative.

Back in the empire, the soldiers had practically ground their teeth whenever they saw him.

Their taunts had reached legendary levels:
“Hey, you freak who eats hearts, how the hell were you even born?”
“Which monster did your mom sleep with?”
“Apologies to your family—assuming they were ever proud of you.”
“Wait, didn’t his whole family already become powdered sugar in the columbarium?”
“Puhahahahahaha!”

All kinds of creative insults.

‘Ah… good memories, in their own way.’

Anyway.

“Your Highness, it’s not right to keep honored palace guests waiting like this.”
“I know, I know. Chief Steward, you sure like to rush things.”

At Edmund’s firm intervention, Walter gave a slow shrug and stepped aside.

“…Please, this way.”

As Adrian walked past Walter—

“But hey, if you’re a noble, there’s something you should remember.”

Walter’s sarcastic voice rang out again from behind.

“Fooling around with every woman you see might be fun, but it makes your family tree really complicated. Not great for succession.”

Adrian didn’t respond to the taunt.

Compared to the imperial soldiers’ trash talk, this was mild—almost cute.

“If your sister ends up pregnant, that child would be both your son and your nephew. You know that, right?”

Adrian stopped in his tracks.

‘Ah…’

…Now that was a level even the imperial bastards would’ve admired.

Adrian’s sudden stop made Walter smirk for a second—
But only for a second.

Because Adrian turned around and chuckled quietly.

“Your Highness, I once knew a blacksmith who said this:”

Then, slowly, Adrian turned to face him—

“‘Human nobles are ruder than cavemen. Because cavemen might be crude, but at least they risk getting a stone axe to the skull.’”

“…What?”

Walter blinked, stunned by the unexpected retort.

Adrian’s gaze slid past him—

He looked over the Royal Knights, inspecting them one by one… until his eyes stopped.

They locked onto Ellen, the vice-captain of the Royal Knights.

He was a prodigy, someone expected to reach Master rank within the next five years.

Adrian’s crimson eyes stared straight at him.

Then his voice rang out calmly.

“The Royal Knights’ top priority is guarding the royal family. And part of that job is making sure their charge doesn’t create danger by acting out.”

“But your master over there is yapping like a rabid animal, breath reeking of the gutter.”

“Yet here you are—Vice-Captain of the Royal Knights—and you haven’t even put a leash on him. What the hell are you doing?”

“You bastard—!”

Walter burst out in rage—

But then—

BOOM!!!

A deafening explosion erupted beside him.

It was as if the air had cracked and the ground split apart.

Walter’s head turned slowly.

Adrian was standing where Ellen had just been.

And Ellen?

He was flying.

CRAAACK!
A thunderous crash echoed as Ellen slammed into the palace wall with brutal force.

Gasp—
Walter swallowed hard.

Because who the hell dared attack a Royal Knight in the palace?

‘Ellen didn’t even react…?’

The vice-captain of the Royal Knights hadn’t even managed to flinch before he was launched.
A prodigy on the verge of mastering the sword—defeated in an instant by a so-called thug?

Walter’s eyes flew wide open.

Adrian wasn’t even looking at him.

His red irises—like blood-soaked daggers—were fixed solely on Ellen, still embedded in the wall.

“If this were real combat, your charge would already be dead. That was your failure.”

And then—

As if dozens more deaths were coming—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Adrian walked forward, his footsteps echoing across the stone floors of the royal palace.

The sound of footsteps echoed like distant thunder.
Each step radiated weight, pressure, and intent.

“W-wait!”
Walter instinctively stepped back.
“You, you dare… Do you realize what you’ve done?!”

Adrian didn’t respond.
He simply kept walking.

“I am Prince Walter of the Battenberg Kingdom! The third prince!”

His voice cracked. It didn’t carry the dignity of a prince, only panic.

Adrian finally stopped a few steps away—close enough to strike, yet far enough to control the tension.

“I know who you are.”

His voice was low and composed, as if discussing something as trivial as the weather.

“And you should know who I am.”

“Y-you’re just… just a thug from the border!”

“Wrong.”

Adrian raised his hand and pointed—not at Walter, but at Ellen, who was slowly peeling himself off the cracked wall.

“That man over there—he didn’t react.”

Adrian’s crimson eyes narrowed, his voice cold.

“That’s not just a lapse. It’s incompetence.”

He lowered his hand.

“From now on, anyone who dares to raise their voice at me—or mine—will be treated as an enemy.”

“You…!”

Walter’s mouth opened in disbelief, but no words followed.

He wasn’t just outmatched.
He was outplayed, outclassed, and—above all—humiliated.

Adrian turned away without another glance.

“Let’s go.”

His voice was calm as ever, as if nothing had happened.

Edmund nodded stiffly, clearly rattled by the sudden violence, but maintaining his composure.

“This way, please.”

The procession moved forward again.
The maids resumed their positions.
Serapia, eyes wide, followed Adrian without a word.

Walter stood frozen, fists trembling, face pale with fury and shame.

Behind him, Ellen slumped to one knee, blood trailing from his lip.
He didn’t say anything.

He knew.

Everyone who had witnessed it knew.

That wasn’t the act of a thug.
It was the warning of a predator.

And the kingdom had just seen its first flash of teeth.

Translatin_Otaku

•