Alex’s piercing gaze remained fixed on Zyrrak. The silence that hung between them was heavy, charged with an unspoken tension. The golden goblin’s demeanor, now hollow and eerily calm, bore little resemblance to the gentle, caring youth Alex had once known.

This change in Zyrrak didn’t surprise Alex—it intrigued him. Leaning back against the soft fur of Lionara, Alex patted her soothingly.

‘Just calm down; you know he can’t harm me,’ Alex chuckled lightly, muttering those words inwardly. Lionara couldn’t read his thoughts, but she clearly understood what Alex was trying to say just from the look in his head. Sensing his reassurance, Lionara relaxed. Meanwhile, Alex’s mind drifted back to when it all began, his eyes never leaving Zyrrak’s unfeeling gaze.

It had all started with a single, troubling piece of news.

The report of Ben, the so-called protagonist, filing a complaint against Zyrrak had reached Alex late one evening. A tight scowl had marred Alex’s usually composed expression as he skimmed through the details.

“I knew this day would come, but this soon…” Alex muttered to himself, rubbing his temples in frustration. He had always anticipated that Zyrrak’s case would one day be weaponized by Ben, but the timing caught him off guard. Still, Alex didn’t waste time lamenting the disruption. He knew better than to let frustration cloud his judgment.

The first step was clear: the plan for Zyrrak had to be accelerated.

Summoning two of his subordinates—fourth-year teachers who were covertly working under the Teachers’ Council—to his office, Alex laid out his instructions with precision.

“Here’s what you’ll do: Stand in the hallway outside the council hall. Wait until you see Zyrrak emerge—he’ll be a mess, tears in his eyes. Give him time to cry it out. When he’s done, pass by him. He will likely hide, and when he does, pretend you can’t sense him.

As you pass by, mention that there might be a way for him to avoid imprisonment if he aligns with another faction. Don’t press too much—just leave hints and speak poorly of him. Then leave.”

The teachers nodded and carried out Alex’s orders flawlessly.

These subordinates, like the girl who had pretended to be one of Zyrrak’s accusers, were loyal to Alex.

As Alex had anticipated, Zyrrak was visibly shaken by their words. Doubt flickered in the goblin’s eyes—a glimmer of uncertainty that Alex recognized as the first sign of inner turmoil.

This was the test.

If Zyrrak harbored thoughts of betrayal, this moment would reveal them. But that wasn’t all. James, Alex’s shadow and most trusted ally, was dispatched to watch Zyrrak closely.

His orders were clear: “If he tries to contact the Teachers’ Council, kill him.”

It was ruthless and unfeeling, but Alex had long prepared for a scenario like this. Although he cared for Zyrrak, he couldn’t risk betrayal—not after the betrayals he had endured in his past life.

James, hidden in Zyrrak’s shadow, emerged as soon as the teachers departed. From that moment onward, every second of Zyrrak’s life was streamed directly to Alex.

What Alex saw over the next two days was both pitiful and fascinating.

Zyrrak’s descent into despair was absolute. His cabin, usually pristine thanks to the council’s self-cleaning enchantments, became a chaotic scene of self-inflicted destruction.

“I don’t want to stay like this!”

“I don’t want to remain weak!”

Zyrrak’s desperate cries echoed through the room as he repeatedly slammed his head against walls, tables, or any hard surface he could find. His golden blood smeared across every surface, only to be absorbed moments later by the room’s automatic cleaning functions.

He never left the room, and no one noticed his absence, as everyone else was preoccupied with their own tasks. Zyrrak spent hours staring at the door, his eyes hollow with longing, before realizing no one was coming and resuming his self-destructive behavior.

“Why would they come looking for a rapist?”

“Why would they want to be associated with a criminal?”

“Why can’t I control my other self?!”

Such anguished questions poured out of him like venom, each one steeped in self-loathing.

James, ever vigilant, relayed every detail to Alex.

By the second afternoon, Zyrrak’s body was failing. Weak from blood loss, he collapsed. Yet even in unconsciousness, his torment continued. His body convulsed violently as he muttered in a feverish haze.

“I don’t want to be weak anymore… I’ll kill my other self… my other personality…”

Alarmed by Zyrrak’s deteriorating condition, James contacted Alex. For the first time in years, Alex hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to proceed—there was no precedent for something like this in the plot he had known.

In his uncertainty, Alex reached out to the Golden Goblin Emperor, framing his inquiry in cryptic terms. He didn’t disclose the specifics but phrased his questions as if driven by idle curiosity.

The emperor’s response, though delayed, left Alex stunned.

Zyrrak was undergoing a theoretical phenomenon unique to Golden Goblins—a desperate, instinctive attempt to forcefully elevate the grade of his bloodline. Such an act was thought to be impossible for any living being, and for Golden Goblins who attempted it, death was almost certain.

Despite the risks, Alex saw an opportunity. If Zyrrak survived, he wouldn’t just be stronger—he would be something unprecedented.

Before ending the conversation, the emperor remarked, “I hope the Golden Goblin you’re referring to doesn’t die.”

Alex sighed, realizing the emperor had discerned the true reason behind his inquiry. But Alex had no intention of letting Zyrrak die. After observing Zyrrak’s behavior over the past two days, Alex was certain of one thing: Zyrrak wouldn’t betray the council. He blamed no one but himself.

“Keep him alive,” Alex ordered James. “Use the strongest healing potions we have. Support him, but don’t interfere. Let’s see what happens.”

For hours, James followed Alex’s instructions, pouring potent healing elixirs into Zyrrak’s battered body.

Against all odds, Zyrrak survived. His muscles were more taut, his skin shinier—he looked nothing like someone who hadn’t eaten in days.

When he awoke, his demeanor had shifted. The fire and gentleness that once defined him were gone, replaced by an unsettling calm. His movements were deliberate, his words measured.

Alex observed these changes with satisfaction. The Zyrrak before him was sharper, more focused, and, most importantly, more useful.

Even when Zyrrak had arrived at the stadium, his behavior had been different. Only in Alex’s presence did he attempt to act like his old self. But Alex wasn’t fooled—he’d seen the transformation with his own eyes.

Now, sitting across from Alex, Zyrrak knew the truth couldn’t be hidden any longer. Alex seemed to know his secret. Zyrrak’s voice, steady yet hollow, broke the silence.

“Will this change something?”

He knew he wouldn’t survive if he fought Alex. He also knew Alex could kill him at any moment. Yet, he remained calm. All he wanted to know was whether Alex accepted his change in personality.

Alex chuckled at the question. Leaning forward slightly, his lips curled into a faint smile as he replied, “Why would it? You are still the Zyrrak I knew. You’ve simply improved—become more useful to me as you are now.”

Zyrrak’s expression remained calm, but Alex noticed the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. It was as if Zyrrak hadn’t expected such a response.

Neither of them spoke further. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Alex’s words hung in the air, and Zyrrak, in response, simply stared at Alex without uttering a word.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep