The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 6: The House of Whitewolf’s Disgrace (1) (Part 1)

The blizzard that seemed poised to swallow the world began to die down.

In the snowy mountains of the North, where the harsh cold had already snuffed out life and left behind nothing but cruelty, only icy deceit remained.

Amid the pure white landscape,
a head of deep black hair stood out unmistakably.

From atop the fortress walls, the soldiers observing the figure instantly knew who it was.

It was rare to find someone on the continent with black hair. And that strikingly handsome face—no soldier of House Whitewolf could fail to recognize it.

“W-What should we do, Centurion?”

At the soldier’s question, the centurion responded firmly.

“Do not let him in.”

“Sir…? But that’s Lord Adrian—”

“I know.”

Adrian, eldest son of House Whitewolf.
The rightful heir to this very fortress.

To deny entry to its rightful master was akin to throwing the entire County into disarray.

“The former Count never recognized Lord Adrian until the very end.”

Adrian—the disgrace of House Whitewolf.
His very presence disturbed the order of the County.

Given the chaos and violence he would inevitably bring upon his return, this decision was not wrong.

“Sir Kai also gave orders not to let Lord Adrian into the fortress.”

Kai, the head knight of House Whitewolf.

Despite being only twenty years old, Kai had risen to become the strongest force in the County.
He was a knight of prodigious talent, all but guaranteed to one day become a Master Knight.

Even the Royal Guard had sent him offers.

The former Count trusted Kai more than Adrian.
That’s why Kai held overwhelming authority within the fortress.

And especially among the rank-and-file soldiers, who adhered strictly to the chain of command, Kai’s orders were tantamount to the Lord’s decree.

“…Understood.”

The soldiers nodded immediately at the mention of Kai’s name.

And at that moment—

“Open the gate.”

A sharp voice rang out from behind them.
They turned their heads.

A man was walking toward them with steady, deliberate steps.

“Chief Steward!”

The soldiers all saluted in unison.
The chief steward soon stood before the centurion.

“Open the gate.”

“B-But…”

“Lord Adrian is the firstborn of House Whitewolf. He is the heir to this County.”

“But the former Count’s will—”

“The royal decree has not been issued yet. Until the royal court officially ratifies the late Count’s will, Lord Adrian retains his authority as heir.”

“……”

“I said open the gate. Now.”

The centurion bit his lower lip.

In emergencies, the chief steward could act as the Lord’s proxy.
And with the former Count now deceased—

Until a new lord was confirmed, the chief steward was the acting lord.

“…Understood.”

The centurion had no choice but to open the firmly closed gates.

Kugugugugung!

The thick wooden gate creaked open with a thunderous groan.
Slowly and obediently, the gate parted.

I tilted my head slightly.

“They’re surprisingly compliant.”

No, not just surprisingly. There was no resistance at all.

To be honest, I thought they’d never open the gate.
No one in the family liked me—the disgrace of House Whitewolf.

Even my father’s will named not me, but Serapia, as his successor. I had been left a mere placeholder.

Though I had the bloodline, I was just a disgrace with no authority.
I had even mentally prepared for a brawl with the soldiers.

“If I’d known it would go this smoothly, I’d have just come right away.”

All I got for my trouble was nearly freezing to death trying to level up in a blizzard in the snowy mountains.

After a moment, the gate fully opened.
Snow piled against it came tumbling down, briefly obscuring my vision.

A brief manmade blizzard passed.

And then, from beyond the gate, a man stepped forward.

A man in a neat, pristine black suit.
He looked to be in his mid to late 30s.

Not a single wrinkle marred his precisely tailored collar.
His neatly combed auburn slicked-back hair suggested a man who tolerated no mistakes.

“I’ll escort you inside.”

His low, soft voice held almost no emotion.

It was a face I vaguely remembered—one of the retainers of House Whitewolf.

His name was…

“What’s your name again?”

…It didn’t come to me.

At my question, his brow twitched slightly.

Well, from his perspective, I’d only been gone from the family for about a week.

He probably saw me as no different than a goldfish.
Maybe even less than one.

Still, the man quickly masked his expression and answered.

“My name is Bernard.”

“Bernard?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bernard… Bernard…”

Even after hearing it, I couldn’t recall him clearly.

It had been fifteen years since I severed ties with the family.

And my memories had been severely stained and eroded by the war against the Emperor.
No wonder my memories of the family were in shambles.

But hearing the name aloud did stir a few vague memories.

If I was right—

“Bernard Neville?”

“That is correct.”

Bernard gave a slight bow as he responded.

Even in that simple bow, his posture had the precision of a knight.
Seeing that discipline sparked a few more memories.

‘Right… He’s the Chief Steward, isn’t he?’

The Chief Steward held a heavy responsibility—practically the same weight as the Lord’s proxy. So not only skill, but lineage, mattered.

And Bernard was noble-born.

And noble-born types… they cared a lot about rules and propriety.

They were the type to obsess over bloodlines.
The headaches I got during the early days of the allied army, because of people like that…

People with no real skill, but voices louder than an ogre’s.

Translatin_Otaku

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