My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 259

Chronus was very still for a long mont, his age-shifting pausing at middle-aged. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"Dead," he said, and there was genuine amusent in his voice. "The legendary nightmare assassin and also the only one I call my best friend is finally dead. Tell —who was the one who managed what countless heroes and demon lords failed to accomplish?"

The ssenger hesitated, and that hesitation told Chronus everything he needed to know before the words were even spoken.

"It was... Satou, my lord. Reports indicate he led a strike team that infiltrated the fortress, killed all of rc Assault’s forces, and personally executed the assassin himself."

The na hit Chronus like a physical blow.

Satou.

That damned goblin. That upstart who’d sohow survived the Dungeon of Eternal Nightmares. Who’d defeated my servant Richard Clay in combat. Who’d humiliated in front of the entire demon lord council, forcing to my knees and left with a permanent scar.

The smile faded from Chronus’s face, replaced by sothing colder. His appearance began shifting rapidly again—young, old, ancient, infant, back to middle-aged—reflecting his internal agitation.

"Leave ," Chronus said quietly. "And send word to our information network. I want every detail about rc Assault’s death. How it happened. Who was there. What thods were used. Everything."

The ssenger bowed and fled gratefully, disappearing through the temporal distortions that served as doors in this place.

Alone, Chronus stood from his throne and walked to one of the massive windows overlooking his domain. Outside, reality was stable—normal ti flowed at normal rates, people aged as they should, cause preceded effect in the proper order.

Inside his castle, temporal chaos reigned. Because that chaos gave him power. Let him see possibilities. Let him manipulate the flow of ti itself.

"I sensed he would be dangerous," Chronus muttered to himself, his voice bitter. "The mont I saw him in that council eting, I knew. Should have killed him then. Should have found a way to bypass Malakor’s protection. Should have—"

He cut himself off, jaw clenching with frustration.

"But those other foolish demon lords stopped . Protected him. Called it ’fair chance’ and ’tradition.’ And now look what’s happened. That goblin has killed one of the most dangerous beings in the demon realm."

Chronus paced back and forth, his appearance stabilizing at his preferred middle-aged form—silver-streaked hair, sharp features, eyes that had seen centuries pass.

His mind was racing through the implications and consequences of this developnt.

rc Assault had known secrets. His secrets. The assassin had been privy to information that could destroy Chronus’s reputation, undermine his position, potentially even get him executed by the council if certain facts beca known.

That’s why he’d hired rc Assault in the first place—the assassin’s legendary discretion and his philosophy that "dead clients tell no tales." rc Assault never betrayed an employer because he understood that betrayal would ruin his reputation and make future contracts impossible.

But now rc Assault was dead, killed by the very target He had hired him to eliminate.

Chronus walked to his desk—a massive thing made from wood harvested from trees that existed in multiple ti periods simultaneously—and poured himself wine from a crystal decanter. The wine itself was aged backwards, growing younger and more vibrant with each passing year rather than souring.

He held the glass up, watching the deep red liquid catch the light from the temporal distortions around them.

"At least there’s one silver lining," Chronus said to the empty room. "rc Assault was proud. Arrogant. Believed absolutely in his own superiority and his philosophy that knowledge is power."

He gestured with his free hand, and one of the large hourglasses on the wall lit up, showing images within the flowing sand. mories. Conversations. Dealings with rc Assault over the years.

"He kept detailed records on all his targets," Chronus continued, speaking to himself as he often did when working through problems. "Files containing their weaknesses, their secrets, their vulnerabilities. Called it his ’insurance policy’ should a client ever turn on him. Information he could release if betrayed."

A smile slowly returned to Chronus’s face, this one carrying dark satisfaction.

"But that sa pride ans he would never let anyone else kill his targets. Once rc Assault accepted a contract, it beca personal. A matter of professional reputation. He wouldn’t have told his subordinates about Satou’s weaknesses because he intended to be the one to exploit them."

Chronus raised his glass in a mock toast. "To you, my forr associate. Your pride and your philosophy of knowledge as power have protected my secrets even in death. Whatever information you gathered about my dealings, whatever dirt you collected that could have been used against , it all died with you in that fortress."

He poured the wine onto the floor in a traditional demon gesture of farewell to the fallen.

The dark liquid splashed across the obsidian, and for a mont Chronus saw in its reflection a possible future—one where rc Assault had survived, had betrayed him, had revealed everything to the council. In that tiline, Chronus was stripped of his position, executed for his cris, his centuries of sches unraveled.

But that tiline no longer existed. Satou had inadvertently done him a favor by killing the one person who could have destroyed him.

"A toast to you, my friend," Chronus said with genuine appreciation. "Your death has solved more problems than you realize."

He turned then, sensing a familiar presence entering the throne room through one of the temporal doorways. Richard Clay stepped through, his movents careful, his body still bearing the evidence of his defeat months ago. He had survived, but barely, and his power had been significantly reduced by the wounds Satou had inflicted.

"You summoned , Lord Chronus?" Richard asked, kneeling automatically despite the pain it caused his still-healing body.

Chronus studied his champion—his greatest achievent, his perfect weapon that had turned out to be not quite perfect enough. Richard was still useful, still powerful, but the aura of invincibility had been shattered in that arena.

"Rise," Chronus commanded. "We need to discuss a problem. A significant one."

Richard stood" What problem, my lord?"