I Can Easily Defeat SSS Ranks... This World Is Already Mine

"Let's go meet the neighbors," I commanded.

The world dissolved into a dizzying swirl of color and light.

The sensation was not the usual, jarring lurch of a short-range transfer.

This was a journey. A long, disorienting trip through the spaces between spaces.

When the world solidified again, we were in a place that defied logic.

It was a vast, circular chamber, its walls a shimmering, pearlescent material that seemed to shift and change with the light.

The ceiling was a swirling nebula of stars and galaxies, a beautiful, impossible night sky.

And in the center of the room, around a massive, circular table of polished obsidian, they were waiting.

The Zodiacs.

The thirteen most powerful, ruthless, and paranoid Demon Kings in the country.

They were a rogue's gallery of nightmares and legends.

I saw a woman with the lower body of a spider, her eight, glittering eyes fixed on us.

I saw a man made of living, shifting stone, his form a testament to the raw, untamed power of the earth.

I saw a creature that looked like a king from an ancient, forgotten dynasty, his face a mask of gold, his eyes burning with a cold, blue fire.

This was the high-rollers' table.

And we had just crashed the party.

Every eye in the room turned to us.

The silence was a physical thing, a heavy, suffocating blanket of power and suspicion.

"Well, well," a voice, deep and rumbling like the grinding of tectonic plates, echoed in the chamber. It was the Golem-Master, the man who had tried to claim my Dwarf. He was even bigger in person. "Look what the cat dragged in. The upstart from Aethelburg.

The one they call 'Saburo'."

A wave of quiet, condescending laughter rippled around the table.

My eye twitched.

"I prefer 'Tyrant'," I said, my voice a low, dangerous purr. "It has a better ring to it. And a much higher body count."

I strode forward, my long, dark coat swishing with a confidence I did not, in any way, feel.

My team followed, a silent, deadly promise at my back.

I took my seat at the table. An empty chair, conveniently placed between a woman who looked like she was made of pure, solidified fire, and a small, unassuming man in a simple, gray business suit who was radiating an aura of absolute, soul-crushing dread.

The game had begun.

And then, he spoke.

A new voice. A voice that was not in the room.

A voice that echoed from the very walls of the sanctuary, from the swirling nebula above.

It was a voice that was neither male nor female, old nor young. It was a voice of pure, unadulterated, and deeply, profoundly inconvenient power.

"Welcome, Zodiacs," the voice of the administrator said. "I am Laplace. And I am so glad you could all make it."

I looked around the room, at the faces of my rivals.

They were not just kings. They were killers. They were conquerors.

And I had just walked into a room with twelve of them.

Twelve sharks.

And I was bleeding.

The silence that followed was a beautiful, terrified thing.

This was not a meeting.

This was an audition.

And the show was about to begin.

-------------

The air in the Sanctuary was a physical thing.

It was a thick, suffocating soup of power, paranoia, and the faint, unmistakable scent of a thousand simmering, homicidal intentions.

I sat at the massive obsidian table, a picture of calm, arrogant composure.

Inside, my heart, which was currently on its lunch break, was performing a frantic, terrified tap-dance against my ribs.

This was the high-rollers' table.

The Zodiacs.

The thirteen most powerful, ruthless, and deeply, profoundly dysfunctional Demon Kings in the country.

And I, Ragnar Vhagar, the Tyrant of Aethelburg and a being of exquisite taste, was the new kid on the block.

The new meat.

"Welcome, Zodiacs," the voice of Laplace, the administrator, the ghost in the machine, echoed from the very walls of the chamber.

It was a voice that was both everywhere and nowhere, a sound that bypassed the ears and vibrated directly in the bones.

"I have gathered you here today for a simple purpose," the voice continued. "To discuss the future."

A low, rumbling laugh echoed from across the table. It was the Golem-Master, a mountain of living stone and arrogance.

"The future is simple, administrator," he boomed, his voice like the grinding of tectonic plates. "The strong will devour the weak. The game will continue until only one of us is left standing."

A wave of quiet, murderous agreement rippled around the table.

"Indeed," a new voice, soft and silken and full of a quiet, venomous menace, purred from my right. It was the Spider Queen, a beautiful woman with the lower body of a giant, terrifying arachnid. Her eight, glittering eyes were fixed on me. "And there seems to be some fresh, tender meat on the menu today."

I gave her my best, most charmingly evil grin.

"I'm flattered, my dear," I replied, my voice a low, dangerous purr. "But I'm afraid I'm a bit too tough for your delicate palate. I tend to give my admirers… indigestion."

The tension in the room ratcheted up another notch.

This was not a meeting. It was a prelude to a battle royale.

"Your petty squabbles are irrelevant," the voice of Laplace cut through the testosterone-fueled posturing. "A new variable has entered the game. A new threat."

A holographic image appeared in the center of the table.

It was a map of Japan.

But it was wrong.

A new island, a massive, jagged continent of black rock and swirling, chaotic energy, had appeared in the ocean to the south.

"What is that?" a Demon King who looked like he was made of pure, solidified fire asked, his voice a low, angry hiss.

"That," the administrator replied, "is the reason you are all here. It is a new Domain. A continental-class Domain. And its master is… not one of us."

The room went silent.

A new player.

A foreign player.

An invader.

"This changes things," the Spider Queen whispered, her eight eyes wide with a new, dawning horror.

"Indeed," Laplace's voice echoed. "The game is no longer a local tournament. It is a world war. And the first wave of the invasion has already begun."

The map zoomed in on the southern coast of Japan.

A swarm of angry, red dots was pouring out of the new continent, crashing against the shores of Kyushu.

"The Oni-Hime of Fukuoka is already engaged," Laplace reported. "Her forces are holding, but just barely. The invaders are… numerous. And they are strong."

I stared at the map, at the relentless, bloody advance of the red icons.

The quiet, peaceful, and soul-crushingly boring era of my reign was officially, spectacularly over.

"So, what is your proposal, administrator?" I asked, my voice cutting through the stunned silence. "You brought us here for a reason. You want an alliance."

The word hung in the air, a strange, foreign, and deeply, profoundly inconvenient concept.

An alliance.

Of thirteen of the most paranoid, backstabbing, and murder-happy individuals on the planet.

"I do not want an alliance," Laplace's voice replied. "I am merely presenting you with the facts. A common enemy. A shared threat. What you do with this information is… entirely up to you."

It was a brilliant move. A masterpiece of manipulation.

He had not asked for anything. He had simply laid the cards on the table and let us draw our own, bloody conclusions.

The Golem-Master was the first to speak.

"This is a problem for the south," he grumbled. "Let the Oni-Hime deal with it. It is not my concern."

"And when they have devoured her kingdom," I countered, my voice a blade of ice, "and their armies are marching on your own borders, will it be your concern then?"

The room was silent again.

The game had changed. The rules were different.

We were no longer just rivals.

We were the last line of defense.

A terrible, beautiful, and profoundly stupid thought began to bloom in my mind.

A grand alliance.

A league of extraordinary, evil bastards.

Led by me, of course.

"This invasion is a threat to us all," I declared, my voice ringing with a newfound, glorious purpose. "We cannot face it alone. We must unite."

The Spider Queen laughed, a high, tinkling sound like the shattering of glass.

"And who would lead this grand alliance of yours, little Tyrant?" she sneered. "You? The upstart who still smells of human weakness?"

"I would lead it," I replied, my voice a low, confident purr. "Because I am the only one in this room who is not afraid to get my hands dirty."

I looked around the table, at the faces of my rivals.

At their greed. At their fear. At their ambition.

"I propose a tournament," I announced. "A contest of champions. Each of us will choose our finest warrior. Our strongest Bloodkin.