I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space

After all that talk, the three of them sat in silence for a while, the conversation having burned itself out. Words had turned into quiet not uncomfortable, but heavy in its own way.

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, stretching long streaks of orange and crimson across the sky. The golden light danced faintly across the ship's deck, glinting on the metal railings and dark wood, reflecting over the calm waters that surrounded them.

No one spoke. The mood had settled.

Levy leaned back lazily on his chair, spinning an apple core idly between his fingers, still stealing side glances at Razeal every now and then like he wasn't sure if another strange question was going to come out of him. Maria, meanwhile, stayed quiet, her eyes turned toward the horizon, her face unreadable.

Razeal simply sat there, elbows resting on the table, eyes fixed somewhere far away maybe on the sea, or maybe nowhere at all. His expression had softened slightly since earlier, but that faint edge of intensity still lingered behind his calm demeanor.

As the evening deepened and the last light began to fade, they finally began preparing dinner. Not very simple food dried exquisite meat, bread, fruit very fancy which maria took out. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that came when everyone was too lost in thought to bother talking.

Levy, always the one to break silences, finally spoke. "Boss, you want to eat something?"

Razeal turned to him and shook his head once. "No. I'm good," he said simply.

Levy frowned, glancing at the apples near Razeal's hand. "You sure? You can't just keep eating apples forever."

Razeal gave the faintest of smirk. "Maybe I can."

Levy just sighed and dropped it.

Maria watched them quietly but didn't comment either. The air between them wasn't exactly tense it just felt… distant. Everyone seemed to be in their own world now.

Before long, night fell completely. The once-warm deck was now lit only by the faint glow of lanterns and the silvery shimmer of moonlight spilling across the sea. The sound of soft waves and the gentle rocking of the ship filled the air.

As the others began settling down for the night, Razeal stood up from his seat and approached Yograj, who was finishing up his meal near the railing.

"I'll take night watch," Razeal said quietly.

Yograj turned to him, blinking. "You sure? You don't need rest?"

Razeal shrugged. "Ive taken enough already.. Also you might be immortal but not invincible. Even you need rest."

The older man chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's true.. Without sleep it be irritating for me..

Razeal didn't say anything more

And with that, Yograj didn't argue further. He nodded once and went below deck, joining the others who had already started drifting into sleep.

Soon, the ship grew quiet. Only the soft sound of the ocean remained the rhythmic slosh of waves brushing against the wooden hull. The stars shimmered faintly above, scattered across the dark sky like shards of broken glass.

Razeal sat back down at the round table, alone now. His surroundings were bathed in dim light, the faint lantern glow barely reaching his face.

He exhaled softly, then looked down at his lap where the Book of Eventual Evil rested.

Its cover glimmered faintly under the moonlight, the black surface glowing with faint red lines as though heat still pulsed through its edges.

Without hesitation, Razeal opened it.

The familiar, eerie scent of something ancient burnt parchment and a faint metallic tang rose into the air. The pages were filled with that strange, shifting script that only he seemed able to read.

He began again, quietly scanning through line after line of text.

There was something about the way his eyes moved across the pages sharp, precise, focused.

He soon realized something.

These spells.. the curses, the rituals, the forbidden arts weren't actually that difficult for him to learn. In fact, they felt strangely natural. The moment he started reading, the words and meanings flowed into him almost effortlessly, as if his very existence resonated with them.

It was like the darkness in the book recognized the darkness within him.

He could feel it ..the smooth hum of dark mana running through his veins as his body responded instinctively, adapting to the information. Every spell he studied settled in his mind with ease, memorized not through effort but by instinct.

He smirked faintly at the realization. "So this is what it feels like to be made for something," he muttered under his breath.

Still, even with his affinity, the process took time. Some spells etched themselves into his understanding within twenty minutes; others required almost an hour. He noticed the difference depended not on the complexity of the technique but on the nature of it. The darker, the more vicious the spell, the quicker it seemed to click in his mind.

It was strange and a little unsettling ..how easily he could understand them.

Another thing he realized while studying: the book didn't classify its knowledge the way the system did. There were no tiers, no ranks, no structured divisions of power.

It was simply chaos.. knowledge arranged in sprawling categories like Curses, Rituals, Forbidden Spells, Soul Arts, and Evil Practices. Each section contained countless spells, instructions, and theories, but none hinted at their rank or difficulty.

It was all up to him to decide which ones mattered.

And that was fine. He preferred it that way.

Hours passed slowly. The sound of turning pages mixed with the faint splash of the sea. The ship rocked gently beneath him, and yet his concentration didn't waver once.

At one point, Razeal realized something odd. Even though it was long past midnight and the little light of moonlight had nearly shadowd down with darkness, he could still see the book's words perfectly.

Every line was crystal clear.. glowing faintly on the page.

He frowned slightly. "Hmm… must be another effect of the book," he murmured. "Convenient."

The more time he spent with the grimoire, the more strange little details he began to notice as though the book itself was alive, adjusting itself to suit him.

For a moment, Razeal thought about using his system's Training Function. It had a time acceleration feature that could make the learning process far more efficient.

The idea was tempting. He imagined spending a few hours in the accelerated space and coming out with hundreds of spells mastered all while mere minutes passed in the real world.

He even reached out to the system.

But just when he had tried, the System shattered his confidence saying he couldn't do it. The reason? He couldn't take the Book of Eventual Evil inside, because of the book's own effects.

Razeal didn't really understand why even the System couldn't handle it. But the System explained: though it's the strongest being, all it can do is pull the host's consciousness into the training function not the body itself. And since the book is a sentient being seperate to host being itself as also a physical object, it can't be taken in unless it's soul-bonded with the host.

Razeal couldn't make sense of it, but he didn't argue. And since he couldn't use his cheat ability to accelerate time and instantly learn everything from the book, Razeal decided not to complain. He knew it would be pointless the System wouldn't listen anyway. So instead of wasting time arguing, he focused on what mattered: reading the book carefully and learning the most important things for himself.

And so razeal sat alone at the round table, the Book of Eventual Evil open before him. The world around him was wrapped in silence the kind of deep, endless quiet that only the open sea could create.

Razeal's eyes moved steadily across the text dark ink on pale, time-worn parchment. Absorbing everything like a wormhole...

His expression was calm. Focused. Yet there was something almost unsettlingly serene about him the stillness of a predator at rest.

Then, a sound.

It was soft, distant, but distinct barely a breath against the silence.

Razeal's keen hearing picked it up instantly.

His eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as his focus drew away from the book. He tilted his head ever so slightly, listening.

To any other being, it would have been indistinguishable.. a whisper carried by the ocean breeze. But to Razeal, whose senses were honed beyond human measure, it was as clear as someone speaking beside him.

He closed the book slowly, fingers lingering over its blackened cover, and turned his gaze toward the cabins below deck.

He could hear everything.. every subtle detail within two hundred meters around him. The rhythmic breathing of those asleep. The gentle shuffle of the waves against the wood. Even the faint crack of wood expanding under the salt and cold.

But one sound stood out among them.. one voice, low and trembling, murmuring from behind a closed cabin door.

"…No… my bloodline…"

It was Maria.

Her voice was weak, almost breathless, like someone caught in a nightmare.

"No… don't take it… my powers… my ability…"

Razeal stayed still, listening quietly.

Her voice wavered, breaking at the end of her murmurs, barely audible but filled with tension fear, pain, and loss intertwined.

Razeal's eyes nerrowed slightly, though his face remained calm.

Seems like she's not all that cool about giving her bloodline up after all, he thought, resting his chin lightly on his knuckles as he stared toward her cabin.

He didn't move or say anything. He just sat there, silent, thoughtful.

Sometimes choices can be scary. Even if one makes them willingly, even knowing they gonna bring you down at one point. But if you still choose them… then there must be a reason strong enough behind it.

He exhaled softly. "Her choice," he murmured quietly to himself, before turning his gaze back to the book.

The night carried on.

The waves rolled gently beneath the ship, a lullaby of the sea. The stars shifted slowly across the heavens. And Razeal kept reading though his ears never stopped listening.

Through the long, still hours, he remained there, flipping through pages of dark knowledge while the faint, restless whispers of Maria's dreams faded in and out from the cabins below.

And just like that, the night passed.

---

The Next Morning

Back in the Empire.

The grand lands of Cindervale Territory lay bathed in morning sunlight. The golden light shimmered across the sprawling estates, glinting over rooftops, glass domes, and the banners fluttering above towering walls.

At the heart of the territory stood the majestic Dragonwevr Ducal Castle.. an enormous fortress that pierced the clouds, its peaks crowned in silver and crystal, its walls glowing faintly with enchantments.

Inside its highest tower, protected by countless guards and layers of magic, lay a single, lavish room.

The air there was still, filled with the faint scent of incense and flowers. Silk curtains framed windows of polished glass, through which sunlight streamed in, golden and soft.

And upon a magnificent bed carved from enchanted gold and adorned with embroidered sheets lay a young woman.

Nancy Dragonwevr.

Her skin was pale, almost luminous under the light. Her long, icy-blue hair spilled over the pillows like liquid frost, glimmering faintly as she stirred. Her eyelids fluttered once… twice… before finally opening.

For a moment, her gaze was unfocused. Then, as consciousness returned, her fingers twitched.. slowly, delicately before curling into a fist.

A breath shuddered through her chest, then another.

And then, with a sudden gasp, she sat upright.

Her eyes widened, breath quick and uneven, strands of hair falling messily across her face. The icy glow of her draconic bloodline flickered faintly in her pupils.

Her body trembled for a moment then steadied. The paralysis that had locked her for days had finally faded. Her draconic constitution had fought through the toxin at last.

She was free.

"Finally…" she breathed out weakly, her voice rough from disuse. "I can… move…"

Her fingers pressed against her chest as she took another deep breath, her body trembling lightly with the rush of returning sensation.

"You're awake."

The voice came from across the room.

Nancy's head snapped toward the source, her breath catching.

There, sitting calmly on a chair by the bed, was Arabella Dragonwevr.. her mother.

Arabella's posture was relaxed, but her very presence carried power. Her crimson combat suit clung to her form, her wild red hair cascading freely down her back. Her legs were crossed, and her eyes.. sharp and molten gold were fixed on Nancy.

She had clearly been there for a while, waiting.

Arabella rose gracefully to her feet as walked towards nancy who stared at her, the room filled with a silence that was both warm and heavy.

"Where is Razeal?"

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