The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - LLD Chapter 91: The Stirring Continent (2) (Part 2)

Zerasmir, Duke of the Iron Guard Kingdom.

Zerasmir was a Master, hailed as the “Embodiment of the Sword,” and a legendary hero of the Iron Guard Kingdom.

In his youth, he had demonstrated overwhelming prowess and leadership during the kingdom’s war against barbarian invaders.
Thanks to his feats in that crisis, he was credited with saving the nation and was granted the noble title of Duke.

That man had a daughter he cherished dearly—Amelia.

But not long ago, Amelia suddenly went missing.
And then, a single letter arrived for Zerasmir:

[Assist the internal rebellion. Otherwise, your daughter dies.]

From that day forward, Zerasmir’s every moment was torment.

As a father who wanted to protect his daughter,
As a knight of the kingdom and Duke of its people,

No matter which side he chose—
A wound that could never be erased would be carved into his soul.

The weight of that pain crushed Zerasmir’s heart, and just as his eyes and thoughts began to drift toward the tip of his sword—

“Your Grace!!”

His steward burst into the office like he was breaking down the door.

“Outside—! You must come outside, now!!”

Zerasmir’s brow twitched as he turned his gaze beyond the office window.

Outside, past the view of the ducal estate—

The gates of the castle swung open, and someone appeared.

Tattered and worn garments.
Hair that was frayed and unkempt.

So disheveled, the face was nearly unrecognizable—

“…Amelia?”

Zerasmir leapt straight out the window.
Despite the fall spanning dozens of meters, he didn’t care.

Boom!
The thunderous sound of his landing instantly captured everyone’s attention.

“Father…!!”
“Is it really you… Have you truly come back?”

His voice trembled.
Tears welled up in Zerasmir’s eyes.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he pulled Amelia into a tight embrace, sobbing.

Feeling the delicate frame of his daughter at his fingertips,
Zerasmir finally realized—
She was really back.

“What happened…? Where have you been all this time!?”
“Well, actually…”

And so, Amelia began to explain everything.

With that, Zerasmir came to realize that the rumors shaking the continent…
Were true.

“We owe the Holy Kingdom a tremendous debt.”
“…No, we don’t.”

But Amelia began telling a story that diverged from the rumors.

“The one who saved me wasn’t the Saintess.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s true she helped… but…”

Amelia took a deep breath before continuing.

“The one who really saved me was someone else.”
“Who was it?”
“Well… He didn’t give his name, so I don’t know…”

As if recalling the moment, Amelia gently closed her eyes.
Then a tremble ran through her, like the fear and nightmares of that time had returned.

“You don’t have to force yourself to remember.”
“N-No, it’s okay.”

But Amelia gathered her courage—

“H-He had red eyes… and black hair.”

She was finally able to recall what happened.

She didn’t know his name or face, but black hair—so rare on the continent—was impossible to forget.
Zerasmir engraved the description of this benefactor deeply in his heart.

And that wasn’t the end.

Most of the slaves and destitute people in Baoless had no known origins.

But every now and then, just rarely—

One would turn out to be a hidden child of a prestigious noble house.
Or someone falsely accused of treason, finally cleared of the charges.
Or even the last surviving bloodline of a royal family.

It wasn’t unheard of for stories straight out of a fairy tale to come true—.

“The young lady—! The young lady has returned!!”
“The young lord—!”
“My lady! Please, wake up! You must see this!!”

Children of noble and royal families returning to their rightful homes.

As they made their safe returns, the continent was swept in a flood of emotion—some even wept openly.

“The black-haired man saved me—.”
“I didn’t see his face, but he had a noble aura about him…”
“That man… with black hair—”

Among those who knew the truth, whispers of the black-haired man began to spread quietly but steadily.

A very long time ago—

There existed beings who fed on the dreams and desires of humans, growing stronger in the dark.

Nightmares.

The female form of a Nightmare: Succubus.
The male form: Incubus.

But Nightmares lacked physical bodies and thus could not bear children of their own.

So they transformed into Succubi, seducing men and drawing out their essence.
Then they transformed into Incubi, using that essence to impregnate human women.

Though both genetic contributors were human, the aura of the Nightmare seeped into the process—
And thus a new species was born:

Cambions—children of Nightmares and humans.

They inherited the power to charm and draw energy from people, just like their Nightmare parents.

Absorbing people’s vitality, they manifested extraordinary abilities.
But with demonic blood running through them, they often leaned toward malevolence.

Yet just as some wolves once found comfort among humans and gave rise to the species called dogs—

Some Cambions, too, began to reject their roots in greed and lust.

They abandoned the predatory way of life based on temptation and desire,
And yearned instead for harmony and coexistence.

They honed their Nightmare-born abilities to manipulate dreams and emotions—
And began using them to communicate with nature itself.

In doing so, they discovered the dreams of nature—the presence of spirits.

Through contracts with these elemental spirits, they purified their essence.
Eventually, they transformed into a new, harmonious race—.

Elves.

With the power of spirits, Elves were able to fully shed their dependence on bodily temptation and carnal desire.
Even so, they retained the stunning beauty and enchanting forms of their ancestors.

Elves, by human standards, were a race of breathtaking beauty—
And because they no longer fed on human vitality…

Humans began using them—male or female—as sex slaves.

In time, Elves fled to the forests to escape such abuse.

And so, many generations passed since Elves and humans last interacted.

The Elves’ homeland, Sylvandir Forest, nestled deep within the mountain ranges, faded from human memory.

Shrouded in the mist of spirits, Sylvandir Forest never once permitted an outsider to enter.

There, trees that had lived for centuries shimmered with emerald light—
And delicate vines draped between the luminous trees like nature’s own jewelry, creating a mystical atmosphere throughout the forest.

“Keeper! Keeper!”

A young elven sentry banged urgently on the trunk of the forest’s guardian tree.

“The singing wind just told us—Silmaryen, the one who went missing, has returned!”

The forest keeper, Rielyn, sprang to her feet.

Translatin_Otaku

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