Summoner’s Ascent – A Power Leveling Isekai Litrpg - Chapter 10 (Patreon)

"Holy fucking shit…" he groaned.

As soon as the queen had disappeared out of sight, Faeran collapsed on his backside, his limbs shaking and chest trembling, all manner of feelings rushing through him.

It had taken all he had to keep up the calm, confident, near cocky attitude in front of the frankly, absolutely gorgeous woman.

It had all been fake. Something he'd forced to stop himself from turning into a complete stutter and gibbering wreck in the face of her.

Queen Sera Leviathan, was something else entirely. Even in just looks alone, she'd almost stunned him into inaction.

One would think she was descended from Lilith rather than Leviathan with an appearance like that. A charming, noble face, glittering deep blue sapphire eyes, hair of the purest silver that almost seemed to shimmer under the sunlight of the day.

And a body that could be classified as sin itself. She was tall, yet slender where it mattered. Full mouth watering hips, long, yet thick and luscious thighs.

Her breasts were absolutely massive and stood out all the more prominently in the dress she had been wearing, which looked more like a leotard than dress, fashioned with all manner of glittering jewelry that drew the attention of all eyes to her voluptuous curves, yet despite their size, her bosom seemed to be almost supernaturally perky, perfectly proportioned somehow despite her size and bodacious backside he could have bounced a platinum coin off of and hit the freaking moon.

He praised the gods that he hadn't quite entered puberty yet, otherwise he would have definitely made a fool of himself.

He knew she was beautiful for sure, he could have attested to that with all the tissues crumpled in her honor before he arrived here.

But the difference between seeing an animated version of her on a monitor and seeing her in real life? Was like Heaven and Earth in the vastness of their differences.

Still…things went surprisingly well.

Spreading his hands back in the grass, Faeran leaned back and stared up at the sky, "Just as I predicted," he murmured lightly.

While Sera Leviathan was dead before the player even made it a quarter through the initial storyline, and players didn't interact with her much, there was a lore page dedicated to her.

In her youth, she was an excitement craving girl who became an adventurer for over a decade before moving on to leading the kingdom's army, specifically the navy and spent much of her time dealing with threats to the kingdom.

She only took the throne because her father and little brother were killed during a war with the Kingdom of Lucifero. And she hated it. Being stuck on the throne wasn't anything at all she desired in life and was much too stifling for her, especially because…she was kind.

She cared about the people and didn't want to exert her strength over the nobles on the off chance that they could go rogue in their petty grudges and screw over the Kingdom of Levia.

In the lore on her, it talked about a plan she had, of empowering the commoners, creating a force of them loyal to her due to the kindness she showed them that would surpass the nobles through numbers and if not force them to submit, at least stalemate them.

And by all accounts, it would have worked if not for one meddling stupid Prince falling in love and screwing her over.

But either way, that was why he had acted as he did, though mostly on instinct. He'd thought that it would pique her interest and that he could get away with it because of her kindness. It had been a gamble, but it worked.

He'd been utterly surprised by her actually coming to him though.

Actually, he'd completely forgotten about her coming today. When he'd gotten up this morning he'd been in for a heck of a surprise as soon as he started working out and doing his morning training.

A rushing sensation had rushed through his veins, similar to the feeling he got when leveling up.

And he'd gotten a new skill.

Virility.

Not only that, but in the process of getting it all of his physical abilities had risen by one point.

And what a skill it was.

One that actually made keeping his eyes from straying with Queen Sera even harder.

'Halves the rate at which the user's stamina depletes. Triples the rate at which the user's physical stamina and body recovers. Enhanced attributes and libido. No recovery time.'

The first half of its effects were crazy amazing. It meant not only could he continue training for twice as long as usual before he would get too exhausted to continue, he would also recover that much quicker as well.

And not only his stamina but his body as well, which meant the time spent each day where his muscles were recovering from being damaged while working out and making him have to train different body parts…would be drastically reduced and allow him to get even more training in!

It was without a doubt a skill tailor made for the grind. And one that he seemed to have earned through training his body to the limit every day for over six months.

…The other half, not so much.

He had no idea what it meant by enhanced attributes, nor what it meant by no recovery time. But the enhanced libido, that could be a problem in the future and what he was sure was what made it even harder to concentrate on anything above Queen Sera's neckline.

Or maybe that was just because of how huge her knockers were.

Either way, if he played it right, it would increase his gains by a substantial amount and he'd be even stronger than he predicted by the time he reached Level Five.

"Sera Leviathan, huh?" he mused.

Despite what he knew of her from lore, personality wise, she was a lot different from what he was expecting. Even compared to how she acted in the brief times she was interacted with in Hellion Online she was completely different.

She was pretty down to earth and he saw glimpses of a teasing, fun loving attitude that was completely absent in the game.

Then again, she was portrayed as a bitchy villain in the game because she didn't approve of the prince and his 'true love' with the protagonist. Which was completely counteracted by the lore around her.

But being pissed off at the stupidity of her son and refusing to acknowledge the girl he crapped on everything for in his arrogant, petty and selfish ignorance was hardly enough to call her a villain…if one had common sense.

Which the prince did not.

To think her fate was to end up as either a sex slave or a suicide victim because of her son…left a bad taste in his mouth.

It wasn't like he could do anything about it though. He wouldn't be entering that stupid academy since he wasn't a noble and he definitely didn't want to anyway.

And while he meant what he said to her about surpassing her, that wouldn't mean much when the demons got free.

Queen Sera Leviathan was one of the strongest around right now. And she would only be a match for a single Demon Angelo.

Which as Faeran loved to grumble about, were literally just mutated lower class demons. While stronger than the average lower class demon, they were still nothing more than demonic foot soldiers.

In other words, Sera Leviathan was fodder in the demon world. And even if he surpassed her, he would be fodder as well. Even if he teamed up with her, he wouldn't be able to save the kingdom.

Defending it would leave him staying in the kingdom, making him a sitting duck for the demons that would eventually get free one way or another according to the lore.

"Tch," Faeran clicked his tongue and pushed himself up to his feet. He walked over to his discarded weights and threw himself right back into his work out.

This kingdom, all of them really were sinking ships. He couldn't bail them out even if he wanted.

The best he could do was protect people he knew and get them somewhere safe in the end.

Sera Leviathan was the captain of one of those sinking ships though and would go down with it. So there was nothing he could do for her.

So he worked out and he vented.

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He didn't end up getting to work out for long before Sister Maria and Father Henry rushed to the garden to check on him in a tizzy.

A bit odd really since Father Henry rarely sought him out these days, content to let him do his own thing. Faeran was convinced the man knew he was planning on leaving the orphanage soon once he was a high enough level.

The queen's interest in him had made them panic a bit and he ended up having to calm them down.

Sometimes he wondered who the adult was around the orphanage.

Still, working out to vent had given him a bit of peace of mind and an idea had occurred to him on how to push his training even further.

It was something he'd thought of before but ultimately decided not to, but with his new Virility skill, he thought it was worth a shot.

So after he calmed his minders down like children and sent them off for a time out, but really just to check on the other kids and continue with their duties, he left the orphanage behind and headed to a specific destination.

Just beyond the usual marketplace where he sold his fish actually.

"Here we go," he grinned as he stopped in front of a specific shop with a sign hanging over the door displaying two hammers crossed over with an anvil above, akin to a skull and crossbones flag generally used by pirates.

The local smithy and weapons shop.

A famous one that he entered quite a lot when he played the game in fact and had been surprised to see it was actually still around when he passed by it one day.

It was a shop owned by the Dwarf, Bralmoc.

It was the first weapon shop and smithy players could reach in the game, and while the equipment earned there was only good for the first little while of the game, Bralmoc provided an interesting service that always brought players back.

He had a skill that allowed him to re-colour armor, weapons and the like. It wasn't some groundbreaking thing, but it was great in game for player customization and their preferred drip.

He pushed the door open and walked inside, immediately finding himself surrounded by racks of armor and weapons, from the floor to lining the very walls themselves.

He could smell the scent of metal in the air as he made his way to the shop counter where a short, heavily muscled man sat polishing a blade. He was clad in only a pair of dark pants and a brown apron, baring parts of his hairy chest and with a head full of bushy auburn hair with a matching long braided beard.

"Aye?" the dwarf, Bralmoc looked up and met his eyes, "Can I help you with somethin' lad?"

Faeran was struck by his voice and paused.

A heavy dose of nostalgia made him shudder. The accent, it wasn't quite right, but it was close.

It reminded him of his home country and his old life.

God, as much as he hated his old parents, he missed Scotland. He missed modern life in general actually. He missed the cold and wet weather of his home, he missed the cheeky cunts everywhere, he missed his creature comforts and the way better food.

He actually found himself having to force tears not to bud in the corner of his eyes.

"Yeah, I was hoping to get something made by you," Faeran said, smothering his sorrow.

"Bit small to be lookin' for armour or a weapon ain't ya?" Bralmoc snorted, setting the blade down, "But I don't really care, what ya' wanting lad?"

"I don't need any of those yet, it's a bit of an odd order actually," he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of scrap paper and setting it down on the counter, "What I need made is this."

Bralmon peered at the scrap paper and before looking him in the eye, "Looks like a vest and a set of wrist and ankle guards, not that odd lad," the dwarf shrugged.

Honestly, calling him a dwarf wasn't really accurate. He was actually part of the beastman race, which had a huge variety of races within them. They, like nobles, were descendants of demons and not any other mystical fantasy race or legendary beasts.

Unlike the nobles though, they were not descended from the arch demons that could take humanoid forms but rather the lower classes of demons below them, ones that were more beastial in appearance.

They were more powerful on average than typical commoners and more likely to be born with classes or divine blessings, but not at the level of nobles.

More like a stop gap in between.

It was actually horrible when one put thought into it. While commoners weren't born with any special benefits because of their bloodline, at least their ancestors weren't literal slaves to the demons that were, to be exact, raped on the regular by demons showing their dominance.

And it made the nobles who took such pride in their bloodlines, seem all the stupider. 'Imagine taking pride in the fact your ancestor was a slave,' he scoffed inwardly.

He put that out of mind as he replied to Bralmoc, "Something like that," he replied, "But I was more looking for them to be weighted, heavy enough to strain me a bit and weigh me down, but still easy enough to move in."

They would be a strain on the likes of his back for sure and he would suffer a bit no doubt, but he'd deal with that later easily enough once he got his hands on what he wanted.

Bralmoc shrugged, "Aye, a bit odd, but nothin' I can't do," he replied, "What kind of weight you lookin' for then lad?"

His original plans were of lower weight, but with how much his stats had risen lately and would no doubt rise further in the coming months…

"About fifteen pounds each for the wrist and ankle weights," Faeran decided on and hummed for a moment before adding, "And forty pounds for the vest."

Bralmoc hummed himself for a moment before nodding, "Alright, shouldn't be too hard to get done, give me a moment," the dwarf replied, sliding off his stool and entering through a door behind the counter.

As he waited for the bushy haired dwarf, Faeran leaned against the counter, almost by instinct humming a familiar tune from his former homeland, 'O Flower of Scotland, when will we see your likes again, that fought and died for, your wee bit hill and Glen….'

…Fuck.

No.

He stopped.

He couldn't let nostalgia get the better of him. And not only because of the sorrow it invoked.

But because that song alone brought thoughts to him of the ancestors he himself took pride in.

That stood to defend their homes and lands against far superior forces without backing down, struggling and fighting to the last with all their might.

And the thought of how disappointed they would be in him for his plans…hurt.

'But it's the smart thing to do,' he convinced himself.