The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 11: A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing (2) (Part 1)

The Whitewolf manor’s dining hall was filled with chairs covered in fur and sturdy wooden furnishings.
Animal pelts and horns from the snowy mountains hung on the walls, and a large brazier in the center glowed with gentle flames, warming the entire room.

Thick iron bars and frost-covered windows.
Through them, the snow-capped mountains and the vast snowy field could be clearly seen.
This only made the cozy atmosphere of the dining hall stand out even more, in contrast to the harsh frozen world outside.

“Did you just say… you want to eat poop— I mean, entrails?”

The chef’s face, already stiff with confusion, twisted even further in disbelief.

Understandably so. Entrails are digestive organs.
They’re not exactly edible.
Sure, you could process them to some extent and make them technically consumable, but—

“The remaining entrails aren’t even the parts you can eat.”

The parts mixed with excrement were downright inedible.
Even in the frigid north, they were considered waste and discarded.

“They’re meant to be left out to bait wild beasts…”

In short, not even animals would touch them.
But I didn’t care.
I’m the kind of person who snacks on monster hearts—what can’t I eat?

More importantly, when it comes to nutrition alone, few things beat entrails as a source of protein.

“Just bring them out.”
“…Excuse me?”
“What are you waiting for? Go get them.”
“Y-You really mean to eat the entrails?”
“Why would I ask for them if I didn’t?”
“…”

“Don’t cook them. Cooking destroys the nutrients.”

I waved my hand casually, and the chef, after staring at me nervously for a moment, finally slinked back into the kitchen.

It didn’t even take a few minutes for him to return.
Naturally, he didn’t cook them—just as I ordered.

“…Here they are.”

Entrails, neatly arranged on a plate.
Blood still dripped from them.
The moment I poked them with a fork, a strong, pungent stench began to rise—it was incredible.
Clearly packed with digestive waste.

Even so, I didn’t hesitate to lift them to my mouth and chew. (T/N: That’s so disgusting.)

And sure enough—

‘This tastes like absolute crap.’

Literally, it tasted like crap.
I’m not exaggerating—it was like chewing on a sewer rat’s tail.

No wonder the chef said they weren’t edible.
Still, I stabbed another piece of entrail and shoved it into my mouth.

“Ack…! You’re actually eating that…!!”

The chef flinched and leapt up in horror.
The maids nearby all widened their eyes in disbelief.

Of course they were horrified.
To see the infamously picky and temperamental noble of the Whitewolf family chewing on something that literally tasted like shit.

A few maids gagged and clamped their hands over their mouths.

“Ugh…!”
“I-I can’t take this anymore—urgh…!!”

One of them eventually bolted out of the dining hall.
Others quickly followed, and the once-peaceful room descended into chaos.

Even so, I didn’t care.
I kept shoving entrails into my mouth, unbothered by the stench or texture.

‘Compared to my time in the Special Task Force, this is gourmet.’

Back during the war with the Empire, the continent’s environment had been utterly devastated.

The Emperor’s massacres were indiscriminate.
He didn’t just target the Allied Forces or humanity as a species—
He seemed to hate life itself.

Animals, plants, insects, even bugs—he slaughtered everything that lived.

He farmed only what was useful.
Everything else was destroyed.

That’s why, at the time, the continent was in worse shape than even these northern mountains.
A land of death, where you could go days without food—
Starvation wasn’t just common. It was routine.

There were no supplies, not even water.
We drank urine to survive.
When there was no more urine to drink, we forced out feces to relieve thirst.
Eventually, there was nothing left to squeeze out, and we were tormented by hunger and dehydration.

Finding a worm mid-mission was a festival.
They were excellent sources of protein.

This food crisis wasn’t limited to the Special Task Force.
It was a widespread issue affecting the entire Allied Army.

As the saying goes, “A righteous heart is born from a full stomach,” and “Even a saint becomes a thief after starving for three days.”

The Allied Army was starving and slowly collapsing.
It was a crisis even Ian couldn’t solve.

Ian, who could split mountains and overturn seas, couldn’t control the ecosystem.

The one who solved that fundamental problem was none other than the Allied Army’s Hero, the Spirit Master.¹

Using the power of nature, the Spirit Master revived the ruined continent.
He restored the broken ecosystems.
He breathed life into a land filled only with death.

Eventually, he became the commander of the Allied Army’s Supply Division and completely freed the army from the grip of hunger.

We called that Supply Division: “The Force That Sustains the Beginning and End of War.”

Without the Spirit Master…
Without that division, we would have starved to death long before ever facing the Emperor.

Although we were utterly defeated in our final battle against the Emperor…

‘This time will be different.’

A second chance had been given.
I had returned to the past—and so had Ian.

We can form the Allied Army faster.
We can unite it more strongly.
We can build a force powerful enough to challenge the Emperor.

There’s time.
Ten years.

It’s not just doable—it’s promising.

And everything starts with the Hero, Ian.
The moment I join up with Ian, everything begins anew.

That’s why I need to have everything ready before he arrives.
I don’t have time to be lounging around raising Kai’s affection level or anything like that.

“Are there any entrails left?”
“Y-Yes?! Um… there are, but…”
“You were going to throw them away anyway, right?”
“Y-Yes…”

“Then I’ll eat it, so make it all into lunchboxes.”
“L-Lunchboxes…?”
“Yeah.”

Crunch crunch.

“What are you doing? Hurry to the kitchen.”
“Ah, yes! R-right away!”

The head chef dashed off in a panic.
And the maids followed… more precisely, they covered their mouths and rushed somewhere else.

Watching their retreating backs, I shoved more entrails into my mouth.
A mushy texture filled my mouth, followed by a pungent taste like a sewer.

‘Not bad.’

…Honestly, it wasn’t too bad once I got used to it.

Translatin_Otaku

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