'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

When it came to strength, Liam stood without rivals.

In this world, no force existed that could match him on equal ground.

As Saka delivered his report on the campaign, several officials visibly tensed, their expressions soured with barely concealed disdain, disgust, and hate.

Some of them knew the truth, the parts Saka had conveniently chosen to omit, and the grim reality he’d glossed over.

But even so, most of them remained silent. Not because they agreed, but because silence was safer.

Concern, sympathy, or protest… none of those would change anything. It was better this way.

Because the lord was still.

sane.

For now.

If he weren’t, if that line was crossed even slightly, everyone here would have no choice but to evacuate.

The entire court would fall into panic, and the lord would spiral into a state of unbearable madness.

Thankfully, the grand meeting concluded shortly after.

One by one, the officials withdrew from the golden hall, their backs straight, their steps quick.

Soon, only Liam and the masked butler remained, a quiet stillness spreading in the massive chamber of the throne room and light-soaked marble.

The silence between them hung heavy.

Liam’s appearance… it was steadily worsening by the second.

His gaze grew dimmer, darker, the whites of his eyes tinged with a corrupted hue.

The color of his suit dulled into a deep, viscous black, the texture rippling like oil spreading in water.

Then, out of the shadows, creeping behind, beside, and beneath him, tentacles began to emerge, twitching with an unnatural rhythm.

"My lord, your state is slipping," the masked butler said from the side, his voice composed but cold, as a pale glow lit up within the hollow sockets of his mask. "We should return to Her Highness' chamber. It will help stabilize you..."

At those words, Liam tilted his head slightly and gave the butler a short, weary glance.

His voice was low, the weight in it unmistakable. "Take me there... I can barely hold control over this body anymore."

The butler responded with a single nod and raised his hand.

With a crisp snap of his fingers, the golden hall vanished.

They now stood inside an expansive jade chamber.

The air shimmered faintly from the warp energy.

All around, treasures lay stacked in every corner, gleaming artifacts, strange talismans, potions in crystal vials, radiant spirit stones, accumulated into mounds that reached nearly to the ceiling, forming gleaming hills across the chamber.

It looked like a dragon’s hoard.

But this wasn’t wealth. It was desperation made tangible.

Each item had been gathered here in an attempt to heal Mize from her lingering slumber.

A futile effort, so far.

And with every failed attempt, a part of Liam’s mind fractured further.

The darkness inside his true body grew stronger, crawling up to the surface with each passing day.

Ruthlessness crept into his decisions. Cruelty nested in his patience.

His actions turned colder. He wasn’t just changing, he was decaying.

One example, there was a day when he accidentally went out of control and swallowed several maids in the palace.

The ten hidden shadows, those who possessed heavy responsibilities came back forcibly to hold him down.

But to no avail, his strength was too strong, until a method was discovered in that moment.

And it was to bring her highness projection closer.

Immediately, Liam calmed down, and his sanity cleared. But once he was a bit further away from the palace.

Something bad would happen.

Liam became desperate one time.

At one point, he had even invoked a forbidden spell to craft a healing bead.

It had come at a horrific cost: countless lives, drawn from across space, not from this world, but from their home planet.

His and Mize’s place of origin.

That world was now in chaos, torn by the consequences of his obsession.

A full-scale war had erupted there. Against him. One man against an entire planet.

Inside this treasure-laden chamber, the distant chime of a bell echoed faintly through the walls.

The sound filtered in from the city’s cathedral, far outside.

Liam's gaze shifted, just for a moment, toward one of the far corners of the room.

His lips barely parted. "The church... it's spreading faster than I expected."

"It is, my lord." The butler answered softly, stepping beside him, his gloved hands steadying Liam by the arm.

Slowly, he guided him forward.

This butler of his, he was currently one of Liam's strongest trump card. Liam felt that not having a true king being under his command made his reign over the territory, insufficient.

As such, he went to the extreme, and used a forbidden spell to accumulate countless souls and blood into one body.

Pushing the strength of that individual higher and higher to the limit. But it came at a huge cost which Liam was willing to take no matter what.

At the very least, now he doesn't need the ten hidden shadows to come back and hold him down in case he went crazy.

This butler alone was more than enough, a true tier 8 true king.

Not a hero, nor a summon. But he was created through a forbidden spell he bought from his system.

At the center of the room, bathed in soft light, Mize lay atop a finely carved jade bed.

Her figure was peaceful, serene, her expression untouched by time. In sleep, she looked divine, like a goddess sealed in a moment of rest.

Liam sank down beside her. His back pressed against the edge of the bed as he leaned into it, head tilted back to stare blankly at the ceiling.

His eyes were clouded, not from pain, but from exhaustion.

He let out a shallow breath, his voice dull, almost hollow. “The reports... about people forgetting who my wife truly is. The Goddess. Has there been any progress in finding who’s behind it?”

“We suspect the new Saint might’ve done it, my lord.”

Liam leaned back slightly, his eyes flickering with a quiet glint. “Ah, the mysterious saint that not even our shadow true lords could detect,” he muttered, the words half-laced with admiration, half with curiosity.

His tone carried a subtle thread of resignation. “How strong is she?”

“We’re estimating tier eight, my lord.”

There was a pause.

“Despite our inability to trace her directly, we’ve picked up remnants of her energy,” the butler continued. “It’s localized deep within the dungeon, specifically in the region where that iceberg woman, Lyshell, was last seen.”

“I see…” Liam exhaled, his gaze sharpening for just a moment. “Mize’s clone, then.”

He said it so casually, as if he had known all along.

And the truth was, he did.

Not even Mize’s system had caught wind of the fact that Liam had already known this.

That in itself was an incredible feat.

But Liam hadn’t pulled it off alone, he, too, had a system of his own.

He shifted his gaze slightly to the side.

There, suspended in the air and visible only to him, a translucent line of text slowly unfurled before his eyes.

[Judging by the Saint’s sudden appearance and the presence of Lyshell this system is 100% certain that both are Mize’s clones, Host.]

The voice that echoed in his mind was clinical and cold, devoid of warmth or doubt.

Standing nearby, the butler remained still, his hands folded properly in front of his abdomen.

Silent, unobtrusive. Awaiting further instruction.

“How many?” Liam asked, not turning his gaze away from the floating words.

[Analyzing the energy structure… There are tens of thousands of them in the lower dungeon, Host.]

“All tier 7s then?”

[Currently, yes. It appears that, despite the true body being in deep sleep and unresponsive, the clones are still linked, capable of receiving the feedback from the territory upgrade.]

[The default strength is tier 7, but if they were to push themselves in a battle, reaching tier 8 is not unlikely.]

Liam’s expression changed subtly. His gaze deepened, and a small smile crept across his lips.

He pushed himself upright, shifted his weight, and sat on the edge of the bed.

One hand moved forward and gently brushed across Mize’s forehead, then down to her cheek.

His fingers slowed, gliding over her features. Again and again. Not with desire. Not even with longing.

Just… remembering.

Like thumbing through pages of a treasured journal. He touched her with the reverence one might give to fragile, forgotten things.

A quiet hope stirred beneath the surface of his silence.

He wanted her to wake up again. To laugh, to speak. To exist beside him again, without this ever-present stillness.

He didn’t mind her odd jokes, her offbeat behavior. If anything, he missed them.

He’d take it all back, the chaos, the mess, everything she was, just to see her open her eyes again.

"Was it worth it that day?" Liam gave himself a wry smile, "I shouldn't have pushed that far back then, now I suffer the consequences of my pride."

His fingers brushed through her hair now, untangling stray strands and tucking them back gently.

There was no rush in his movements. Only patience.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

For an entire hour, Liam remained like that. Silent, composed.

Letting himself breathe beside her, letting whatever storm had been stirring inside him settle once again.

Finally, with a long, even breath, he leaned back slightly and shifted to sit at her side.

His gaze remained on her profile, unmoving.

Then, in a voice stripped of tension, he spoke, directing his question toward the butler, without ever looking away from Mize.

“How’s the situation in the real world, In my world.?"

The butler responded promptly. “The war is ongoing, my lord. The ten monarchs have begun breaking through the enemy’s formations with ease."

"Their defenses crumble like sand, paper-thin and brittle. As expected, the original world’s comprehensive strength is far too lacking to pose a real challenge.”

“And the people I told you to track?”

“We’ve confirmed Adrian’s location, my lord,” the butler replied. “As expected, he’s here, somewhere on the northern end of this world.”

“Hooo?” Liam raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “He’s got some nerve entering this world without access to his own territory.”

"Knowing that his territory is already in the warp, he couldn't bring it here to this ongoing trial ground. Especially after the fate of this world was spared from destruction. Such stupidity"

His gaze grew a little more focused.

“Send several of the shadow true lords to hunt him down. If I remember correctly, he was barely a decent lord, survived his trial ground with a tier six territory.”

"Yes, by the common standard, he was a shining star in any weak world, but in my eyes, he's just an ant."

“That was over a year ago,” he continued, his voice thoughtful. “I doubt he would’ve broken through to tier seven this soon.”

"Perhaps he's a much bigger ant now."

The butler nodded crisply. “As you wish, my lord. I will dispatch several shadow true lords immediately.”

Liam gave no reply, simply nodding in acknowledgment as his thoughts drifted forward.

After a few seconds, he spoke again. “What about that woman? Any updates?”

“Ah…” The butler paused, recalling the memory. “That… somewhat panicked Awakeners girl.”

A brief flicker of amusement passed his features.

“As ordered, she’s already been brought into the territory. She’s under observation and ready for the lord’s plan, once Her Highness awakens.”

Liam didn’t answer immediately.

He simply closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his weight slightly back on one arm.

The atmosphere in the room fell still again.