I want to devour him whole.

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The Prime Minister didn’t say whether he believed it or not; he just glanced at Zong Ming.

That single look made Zong Ming instinctively straighten up. The next moment, as he regained his composure, he sensed something was off but couldn’t quite pinpoint what was strange about the Prime Minister’s gaze.

After a moment, the Prime Minister finally spoke: “It’s not that I don’t believe you.”

— It’s that I don’t believe that elf.

Yet he never said this aloud. From an inexplicable intuition, the moment he first saw Lu, he sensed danger emanating from him.

Living alone in the Misty Forest, extracting the abyssal power, the elf arrived at the scene upon hearing the monster’s wails. He found Lu standing amid the chaos, calmly drawing the magical essence from the mists.

A dark abyssal force surrounded him; his green eyes were deep and stern, silver hair flowing, and a faint smile played on his lips. At that instant, the Prime Minister almost thought he was not looking at an alchemist but a demon god descending from the abyss, performing some arcane ritual.

Blood stained the elf’s body, face, and silver hair in various sizes. He was undergoing a promotion ritual, and the Prime Minister’s arrival interrupted what had been meticulously planned, causing Lu’s sudden fall in power, disfigurement, grievous injury, and subsequent torment.

Even a fleeting glimpse left an indelible threat in the Prime Minister’s mind. Though Lu still appeared imprisoned, the Prime Minister’s mood soured seeing Zong Ming so close to an elf.

“Did you break the seal on him?” the Prime Minister asked carefully.

Zong Ming replied, “...If I didn’t, how could he make the potion?”

Zong Ming felt the Prime Minister was a bit confused. The man seemed so worried that Zong Ming might be taken away in a sack by Lu.

The Prime Minister had only one son, who was always obedient and well-behaved, hardly ever reckless. In modern terms, he was the epitome of an ideal child. If it weren’t for the difficulty in brewing the soul-awakening potion and the scarcity of alchemists capable of it residing mostly in the Mage Tower, Zong Ming would have already undergone soul awakening based on his abilities.

“My sacred marks have already stabilized; only the last step remains.” Zong Ming opened his hand, revealing five sacred marks on the back. The Prime Minister looked solemnly before saying, “Whatever you need or want, just go ahead and do it.”

This was a further loosening of supplies for Zong Ming. The Prime Minister meant money was no problem, nor anything else. “You’re doing well, son. Keep it up.”

Such a father—unmatched.

“Mm.” Zong Ming usually had a harmonious relationship with the Prime Minister. He was always pondering how to save the Prime Minister’s life and solve the puzzle of helping his father ascend to demigod status. The Prime Minister had been stuck in the legendary realm for many years.

Then he heard the Prime Minister continue, “But after that, you need to deal with that elf.”

The man touched the ring on his finger and said coldly, “When you return from the elf ruins, hand him over to the Temple of Light.”

The Temple of Light was the elf’s sworn enemy. They harbored a deep hatred for creatures from the abyss. If Lu fell into their hands, his life would be worse than death.

But the Prime Minister’s stance was clear. Zong Ming opened his mouth but paused, realizing that if he argued in Lu’s defense now, the Prime Minister would assign him an alchemist mentor and immediately hand Lu over to the Temple of Light.

If he tried to say he liked Lu and pleaded for leniency, the Prime Minister would probably slap Lu dead on the spot. Then the male lead would resurrect inside the Tree of Life and come back to slap both Zong Ming and the Prime Minister to death.

The Prime Minister’s disdain and malice toward Lu was barely concealed. Zong Ming felt pained and melancholic:

— This is your non-blood-related grandson!

How could you be so ruthless and heartless?

Zong Ming sighed inwardly and said, “Yeah, you’re right.”

He nodded and added, “It’s too dangerous for him to stay here; it’s better to deal with it sooner.”

If Lu remained in the Starlight Empire, the Temple of Light might come for him any day. It was better for him to leave quickly. Zong Ming planned to find an opportunity to release Lu after visiting the elf ruins.

In some ways, he was telling the truth. The Prime Minister’s expression softened considerably. He knew Zong Ming well and could tell he was serious. Even others would sense his sincerity.

Only the Prime Minister saw it as killing, while Zong Ming alone understood it as saving.

“Good that you think that way. Abyss elves are things that shouldn’t exist,” the Prime Minister indulged, “Once you awaken, you’ll take on some imperial affairs. As my son, you should stand atop the empire and be revered by all!”

“I understand father’s intentions,” Zong Ming smiled faintly and silently apologized, knowing the Prime Minister would be disappointed. The male lead couldn’t be killed, and he could never harm Lu.

In this world, Zong Ming was likely the only person who truly wouldn’t hurt Lu. But no one else would believe this — not even Lu himself.

In the quiet room, only the figure of the elf cub remained. A shadow flickered and transformed back into his own shadow. At that moment, this outwardly beautiful yet fierce little being lifted his face, his emerald eyes shimmering with a calmness that was surprisingly composed.

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“Sad?” A hoarse, deep voice whispered softly, almost like an illusion: “Hearing those words, seeing that scene, disgusting, isn’t it?”

Only that voice echoed in the room, making the following dialogue sound like a self-question and answer:

“No.”

Only caring leads to disgust, pain, and sorrow.

What was Zong Ming to him—just a novel, somewhat fresh toy. He was not someone important, so Lu would never suffer heartbreak or agony over his few words, nor feel as if his heart were being torn apart, wishing to shred that hateful liar to pieces, swallow, and chew him.

Then, the other would have no cruel words left, forced to kneel and beg for mercy, crying pitifully like the ants at his feet who once pleaded for forgiveness, tears streaming and utterly humiliated.

“He’s just a liar full of lies.”

The voice spoke again. Lu, sitting there, suddenly recalled how recently that person held him, saying, “You’re so cute,” whispering love and kissing his forehead, their presence warm and comforting, lips soft.

That same person now stood before him, looking at him with golden eyes, suddenly smiling. The light and affection in those eyes were so genuine, sparkling as if crushed gold dust scattered within, then bowed to kiss him.

Perhaps never having seen such brightness in someone’s eyes, the elf mistook that gaze for love, eagerly awaiting every move as if waiting for a treasured gift he had never received.

Like finding a novel toy after countless dull journeys, cherishing it, only to discover it was all an illusion—the sparkling treasure turning into a pile of slime in his hands, full of traps and schemes.

Now, the fury and desire to destroy all that surged in Lu’s heart stemmed from a shame born of mockery.

Indeed.

He saw his reflection in the mirror.

A foolish idiot maintaining a childlike form, lingering beside a liar, even regarded by others as a pet.

He had regained his strength, his grave wounds long healed, yet he stayed by that person’s side only to covet top-tier potion ingredients. The other’s magical power and talent made him a vessel holding the resources he needed. He was like an alchemist who glimpsed the treasure early, guarding the immature secret, waiting for the day to harvest it.

That was why he was so gentle and patient, because Zong Ming was already marked as a treasure. But now he was impatient; the other’s words and actions angered him. Being torn apart early, swallowed, and shredded was his own doing!

For a moment, a trace of resentment grew in Lu’s heart.

He resented his own foolishness, resented sinking willingly, knowing what the future held and what should have been done, yet still staying by that person’s side. This long-standing confusion flared into a kind of hatred.

“But none of this matters,” the voice continued. “Because we are neither angry nor furious.”

Only bored.

“Being rejected, hated, and deceived by others was expected.”

So: “Now we just need to kill him, eat him, and we won’t have to stay here or be bound anymore.”

Tear him apart and consume him, fully merge with him, and all troubles and woes vanish. No more worries, free to do as we wish, removing anything unpleasant; boring things need not exist. Hasn’t it always been so?

“Heh…”

A soft chuckle echoed in the room. The elf cub’s tendrils, entwined like tree roots, slowly loosened, emitting an ear-piercing sound. The moment Zong Ming opened the door and entered, Lu abruptly lifted his head, staring at him with multiple eyes.

For a moment, Zong Ming froze.

Lu now looked almost sad.

Not overwhelmingly or intensely sorrowful.

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