The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 82: The Destroyer of Wrath (Part 1)

Hidden Quest: [Perfect Weather for Stirring Up Chaos].

The condition to complete the Hidden Quest that granted Ian’s journal wasn’t merely stealing funds from the Dark Merchant Group.

It was the downfall of Baoless.

‘Baoless is just a stage, nothing more.’

Baoless was practically a city created by the Dark Merchant Group.

In other words, someone else was pulling the strings behind this stage.

That someone was the Destroyer of Wrath, Iratum.

Iratum was a critical and central figure in the Emperor’s plan to devour the continent.

‘I need to take him down.’

So after I completely cleaned out the Dark Merchant Group’s funds,

I hurried to the scene where Isolde was running rampant.

But—
‘How wild did she get…?’

The entire black market had been torn apart.

It no longer functioned as a black market—what remained was a ruin.

‘Was she holding back when she fought me…?’

…This result was beyond expectation.

Even if I had caused some confusion, I didn’t expect the market to be obliterated to this extent.

Maybe that’s why—

“A-a monster!”

The few remaining Acata were trembling in fear, their fighting spirit broken.

“How could a Worshiper of Hollow Glory be this…!”

Worshiper of Hollow Glory—
That’s what the Cultists of Corrupted Souls call the priests and paladins of the Holy Kingdom.

Strictly speaking, the god worshiped by the Holy Kingdom doesn’t “actually” exist.

It is a god forged from collective belief and ultimate Aura—a being that transcends ontological arguments only through the faith powering it.

That’s why the Cultists of Corrupted Souls label the believers of the Holy Kingdom as those who worship a mere façade—a Hollow Glory.

And they, in turn, claim to be the true worshipers of the real god.

The Monarch of the Abyss.

Whether he’s a god or not is beside the point—he was undeniably a real being that existed beyond the sub-dimension.

“N-no more…!”

“Run…!”

Frightened, the Acata began backing away in panic.

Then they spotted me—

“E-Executor…?”

“Did he say Executor?!”

“The Executor is here!!”

The Acata’s eyes lit up with hope as it spread like wildfire.

Though their faces were masked, I could still sense the change.

“That’s the Executor who mercilessly slaughtered 100 members of the Black Grasp Vister!”

“No matter how wild you get, you’re no match for the Executor!”

Like children tattling to their parents, the Acata puffed themselves up with false confidence.

When I followed their gaze, I saw Isolde, wearing her Ogre mask.

But the golden aura rippling around her entire body—

It was stripping away her humanity.

‘Divine Ascension…?’

Isolde’s original creation—Divine Martial Fist.
And now, its evolution: Divine Ascension.

‘That explains it.’

No wonder the black market was reduced to rubble.

If she used Divine Ascension, it was not only understandable—it was expected.

‘She was using Divine Ascension this early?’

In any case, she’s a monster.

No wonder the Acata were trembling in fear—

‘At this rate…’

I could move straight into the next phase of the plan.

I turned to the Acata and asked:

“Where did you move the slaves?”

“To the Iron Waste Zone!”

The Iron Waste Zone was the dumping ground for discarded resources from Baoless.

It lay outside the city proper—a place rarely visited.

That made it the perfect site for the Dark Merchant Group’s secret experiments and rituals.

It was also used to hide illegal drugs and weapons.

In other words, the people were safe.

And with the Visters rampaging, the poor of Baoless likely fled on their own.

“Did you know?”

As I signaled to Isolde—

“The dead don’t talk.”

Splurch!

I immediately turned and ripped out an Acata’s heart.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Isolde charged forward.

Her body, enhanced by Divine Ascension, moved at a speed my own agility couldn’t even track.

“H-huh…?”

“What just happened…?”

The Acata still hadn’t grasped the situation.

Together with Isolde, I rapidly wiped them out, one by one—until only a single Acata remained.

Through the mask, I could see his eyes shaking with terror—

“Y-you’re not…!”

So that’s what it was.

“YOU TRICKED USSSS!!!”

This is exactly why, in my previous life, imperial soldiers would lose their minds whenever they saw me.

The Acata trembled upon realizing I wasn’t Avarus.

Now his gaze was burning with betrayal—

“Did you really think you’d get away with this?! Are you not afraid of the heavens?!”

Truly shameless.

After all the experiments, torture, exploitation, abuse, assault, plundering, and massacres they committed against innocent people…

To say something like that now?

So I responded—

“Your logic is garbage.”

Well, it’s not like lunatics care about logic anyway.

“It’s not me who should fear the heavens. It’s you.”

Splurch!

With Dragon’s Claw, I tore out his heart.

As the final Acata fell—

Isolde removed her Ogre mask.

She staggered.
The golden aura that had consumed her human form was gone.

Luckily, she managed to steady herself just before collapsing.

“Haa…! Haa…!”

She looked seriously unstable.

Hot breath poured from her mouth with each exhale, and blood trickled from her lips—blood she hadn’t had time to swallow.

Divine Martial Fist—Isolde’s Divine Ascension.

This technique operated on a mechanism similar to Metabolic Overdrive [U].

Except in terms of performance, it was a vastly superior version.

To put it childishly: an ultra, ultra high-tier upgrade.

Because Divine Ascension didn’t just push the endocrine system—it overloaded every muscle fiber and nerve cell in the body.

That allowed it to truly ‘transcend’ human limits.

But in exchange, it placed immense stress on the body.

If used by an ordinary human?

Their body would explode on the spot.

In other words, only someone like Isolde—whose body had been practically forged from divine power—could use this technique.

Even past Saints and Holy Maidens would struggle.

That’s how extreme the overload was for Divine Martial Fist: Isolde’s Divine Ascension.

Isolde’s current condition could only be described as utterly destroyed—every muscle fiber torn, every nerve cell ruptured.

“Are you all right?”
“I… I’m fine…”

Isolde forced out a response.

Translatin_Otaku

•