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

Inside the system space, Razeal slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed wasn't sight.. it was smell.

The air was heavy, thick, and metallic. The sharp tang of iron lingered in every breath he took. It was almost suffocating, like the scent of a thousand open wounds, the stench of blood saturating the atmosphere itself. The very air was red.

[Welcome, Host, to the SSS-Rank Valley of Villey.]

[Villain Title: Vampire Progenitor.]

[Name of System Space: Crimson Expanse.]

The notifications floated silently before his eyes, glowing faintly crimson against the dark background of the world around him.

"Vampires, huh?" Razeal muttered, his voice echoing faintly through the eerie silence. "Well… that's new."

He blinked a few times, letting his vision adjust to the heavy red hue of the place. His eyes darted back to the words "Vampire Progenitor" that shimmered in the air.

"Haaa… Vampires," he repeated under his breath, dragging a hand through his short white hair's. "Didn't think they'd actually be on the system's list or well even actually be existing. But I guess it makes sense."

Razeal's thoughts began to drift, his mind flickering between curiosity and calculation. In his old world, vampires were just myth fantasy beings in stories and literature, creatures that haunted human folklore, all sharp teeth and tragic beauty handsomeness and all shit. And here… we are.. The actual fucking vampires exist.

And if the system was ranking them as the second-strongest among all SSS-rank beings across realities, then the term "vampire" clearly didn't mean what it used to.. Since th literally never really portraid these beings as that strong and powerful.

"They must be powerful," he murmured. "If they made it this high in the rankings…"

His lips urned upwards slightly. "Quite intriguing it is."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. A world ruled by blood, by creatures of night and immortality… that could work in his favor. His own dark affinity or talwnt might even earn him some form of recognition or respect here. Since afterall these brings definitely belongs to dark faction? Isn't it.. He thought

Still, his time was limited.

Razeal inhaled deeply, letting the strange scent of the space fill his lungs one more time before exhaling. "Alright," he muttered, straightening. "Let's make this quick. The faster I get what I need, the faster I can get back... And lets hope maria be taking care of it fine."

He turned his gaze around, finally taking in the full view of where he'd appeared.

The scenery stretched out in haunting elegance endless darkness illuminated by faint red glows from strange floating crystals scattered across the land. He seemed to be standing in a vast courtyard surrounded by black marble walls, each carved with intricate gothic patterns that shimmered faintly under the dim light.

Behind him, the towering spires of a castle rose into the endless crimson sky tall, sharp, and graceful, like spears stabbing the heavens. The architecture was ancient, refined, impossibly beautiful. Everything here exuded power and taste.

Even the stillness carried authority.

It wasn't the kind of eerie silence that felt empty no, this was the silence of nobility, the silence of something watching, waiting, unseen.

Beneath his boots, the ground was polished obsidian, smooth enough to reflect faint glimpses of his own silhouette. He was standing in what seemed to be a garden though instead of flowers or grass, the "plants" here were strange, crimson crystal stems, their glassy surfaces glinting faintly like veins of frozen blood.

Beautiful... Hauntingly beautiful.

"Well," Razeal muttered, "at least they've got style."

He scanned the area once more, but no one was in sight. The place was quiet unnaturally so. He didn't sense any movement, no footsteps, no aura fluctuations. Not even the whisper of a breeze...

"...Guess I should make myself noticed then," he murmured.

There was no need to move carefully for him now, and he definitely didn't need to worry about offending some SSS-ranked villain one of the strongest beings in all the realities. Without another moment of hesitation, he opened his mouth and yelled, trying to get someone's attention.

So he cupped his hands to his mouth and called out, his voice breaking through the thick silence:

"Hey! Anyone here? I need helpppp.."

But he didn't finish the sentence.

In the blink of an eye, the world around him shifted.

No sound, flash or even transition.. Just gone.

The courtyard vanished as though it never existed. The ground beneath his feet dissolved, the air folded, and before he could even blink again

He was standing somewhere else.

Inside a grand palace.

The sudden change was disorienting. His vision adjusted instantly, scanning his new surroundings.

The first thing that struck him was the sheer opulence of it all.

Every inch of the place screamed wealth and old, ancient wealth at that. The floor beneath him was lined with a deep crimson carpet, the fabric so rich it shimmered under the faint golden light from chandeliers hanging above. The walls were lined with dark stone, adorned with heavy golden frames enclosing paintings that looked centuries old.

Each piece of furniture the carved mahogany chairs, the marble tables, the dark velvet drapes spoke of a timeless elegance, one that had never known decay.

It was beautiful in the same way a graveyard at sunset was beautiful serene, but unsettlingly cold.

Razeal turned slowly, trying to make sense of it all.

and then suddenly

"A human with such a strong dark affinity? How rare." The voice came from behind Razeal, who hadn't expected to suddenly be brought into this place. "What an rare event to have in this long, boring life of eternity," the voice added, tinged with amusement. "Greetings."

"Whooo!?"

Razeal flinched violently at the sudden voice that echoed behind him. His instincts kicked in before his mind could even register what had happened. In an instant, his body shifted, muscles tightening as he spun around and leapt backward, creating distance between himself and whoever or whatever had spoken. His senses on high alert, eyes scanning the space around him with sharp intensity.

"Compose yourself, human. It was you who called for a favor.. and here I am."

The voice didn't sound threatening. It was refined, balanced, carrying a timeless grace that made the words echo with quiet authority.

Razeal's body froze for a second, eyes narrowing as he turned fully toward the source.

And then he saw him.

The figure standing there.

Tall easily over six feet with a posture so composed it made the very air around him feel reverent. His face was flawless, unnervingly perfect, like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves and then polished by eons of existence. Not a single imperfection marred that cold beauty. The man's features were delicate yet strong sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, and lips that held a faint, unreadable smile. His skin was pale, not the sickly kind but the luminous white of moonlight reflecting on marble.

He radiated nobility no, ancient nobility.

His clothing matched that aura perfectly: a high-collared coat of deep black embroidered with fine crimson thread that shimmered faintly in the dim light, silver cuffs, and a red gemstone clasp fastened near his neck. The garments were fitted perfectly to his tall frame, tailored with such precision it almost seemed unnatural.

His long hair, dark as night with faint silver undertones, cascaded gracefully down his back. One gloved hand rested behind him, the other relaxed at his side in a stance that seemed to declare: I was born to rule.

He didn't have to say a word his mere presence screamed pure nobility. Graceful. Ancient and Eternal.

For a moment, Razeal just stared at this dide. The sight alone made him lower his raised guard slightly.. Remembering this wasn't true world, though his muscles remained tense out of habit. His eyes flicked over every detail of the man before finally just letting go the tensenes.

"Ohh… well," Razeal said after a moment, his tone cautious yet curious. "You must be the Vampire Progenitor, huh?"

The man's eyes deep crimson, glowing faintly like molten gems sparkled with amusement.

"Ohh? You know about me already?" he replied, his voice dripping with cultured grace. Then, his expression softened, and he raised his right hand to his chest in a gesture so elegant that even Razeal couldn't help but be impressed.

"My, where are my manners," the man continued smoothly. "Allow me to introduce myself properly."

He straightened, his every movement fluid and measured, like a rehearsed dance of centuries-old etiquette.

"I am Vaelitharion Noctra'vel Seraphis Dra'Kareth Vorn'Aelthyr Aecrivan Mael'torus, the first and forever king of the Everynight Empire and the progenitor of all vampires."

As he finished, he lowered his hand gracefully, his voice steady, calm, and utterly self-assured. His crimson eyes gleamed with faint pride and age old dignity.

Razeal just though blinked.

"Umm… well," he muttered, clearly caught off guard by the ridiculously long name, "that's… quite the introduction."

He let out a small breath of impressiveness. The sheer elegance this man radiated was staggering intimidating even. He couldn't help but admire it a little.

He doesn't just look like royalty, Razeal thought, he looks like the very definition of it.

His mind briefly drifted to Celestia the future Empress of strongest Empire back in his world. She was elegant in her own right, composed, regal… but compared to this man, her aura felt worlds apart. Like comparing the faint glow of a candle to the endless, unyielding brilliance of a moon... Now he think about it.. she looked quite dissapointing.

Razeal shook the useless thoughts out from his head quickly.

"Ohh hey there, I'm Razeal," he said finally, forcing a small, casual nod, trying not to look completely out of place.

The vampire king smiled faintly, his expression never faltering from that calm, noble poise.

"I am aware of that," he said softly. "Razeal Virelan."

The words caught Razeal off guard. His expression froze for a moment.

"Huh?" he muttered, blinking. He hadn't told him his about this.. definitely.

His mind sharpened immediately, suspicion flashing in his eyes as he stared at the vampire. Did he just

"System," Razeal thought quickly. Did this guy just read my memories? And if he did… is it because my mental stats are still low?

[I wouldn't say exactly that, Host… but something close. Just moments ago, he took a drop of your blood so quickly you probably didn't even feel it. My guess is that he gained this information from your DNA. You might consider asking him about your ancestry while you're at it.. vampires of his level maybe can see quite a bit through blood memory. Who knows, he might know things that even you might not know.]

Razeal's expression darkened slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. He hadn't even noticed the man take anything from him that alone was unsettling... For someone like him

He drew in a quiet breath, then looked up again at the vampire before him.

"I'm quite offended by what you've done," Razeal said flatly, though his tone remained calm. His eyes were cold, sharp.

Vaelitharion tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Ahh, my apologies," he replied, voice silky and composed. "Don't mind me.. it's merely a habit of mine."

He walked forward slowly, his steps utterly soundless despite the weight of his boots against the red carpet. His presence filled the space with quiet confidence.

"It is difficult, you see," he continued, "to live such a long life, cursed with eternity and the endless dullness that comes with it. So, I tend to seek amusement wherever I can find it."

He smiled faintly, red eyes glimmering like dying embers.

"And what could be more interesting than reading the blood of an outsider one from a different world altogether? A world I've never seen, with a history unlike my own."

He clasped his hands neatly behind his back as he spoke, his tone conversational, almost amused.

I must admit, I rather enjoyed it quite a bit, if I may say so. Your world's history, the rise and fall of its civilizations, its wars, Portals, Dimensions, Different beings and all, its philosophies… it was all very entertaining. But more than that, your own small speck of life was what truly caught my attention. It is… intriguing, to say the least.

Razeal just looked speachlessly at him.

"Your existence," Vaelitharion went on, " For a creature born of low potential a rarity even among the weak of your kind the achievements you've managed to grasp with your own two hands are worthy of applause. Truly, quite admirable."

He paused, studying Razeal closely.

"Oh, and when I say 'low potential,'" he added smoothly, "I speak not as an insult, but a fact of human nature. Your species is weak, fragile..."

He turned slightly, pacing with the ease of someone long accustomed to having the attention of everyone in the room.

"Humans, after all, are not beings particularly favored by the world's greater designs. Only ro be looked special due to the blessings of nature and the favor of the powerful forces that exist.. with the laws of those I would assume your kind call natural forces, phenomena, gods, celestials, or perhaps even luck and fate etc."

"And considering you weren't favored by any of them, the fact that you've come this far is honestly quite intriguing."

"And if there wasn't already something quite intriguing about you," he continued, pacing slowly as his long coat dragged softly across the polished marble floor, "it's the fact that… there are blank spaces."

Razeal frowned slightly. "Blank spaces?"

Vaelitharion's grin widened just a little, his sharp fangs glinting faintly under the blood-colored chandelier light. "Yes. When I read your blood, there were certain parts moments that refused to reveal themselves. It wasn't just resistance; it was complete rejection. Your blood itself denied me."

He turned his gaze toward Razeal, that elegant, calm tone of his voice laced with faint amusement. "Or perhaps," he added, raising a finger to his chin thoughtfully, "it's not a matter of rejection at all. Perhaps those parts were… simply not recorded. As if something.. someone or something far greater made sure they could never be read."

He tilted his head slightly, the red glow in his eyes intensifying as if he was trying to see through Razeal's very soul.

"It makes me wonder," he said softly, voice dripping with curiosity, "what kind of entity, or object, or perhaps even a law of existence itself, could block my vision. For you see, I've peered into the essence of gods before, and even they cannot hide from my sight. But you…" His words trailed off, his grin widening into a dangerously amused smile. "You possess something or are connected to something that even I cannot see. And that, my dear Razeal, is what makes you truly entertaining."

He chuckled quietly to himself, low and melodic, like the purr of an ancient predator enjoying a private joke. His hand returned to his chin, the movement casual but calculated. "Whatever it is, it must be powerful unimaginably so. To conceal its traces even through the deepest blood reading. I would wager it is either a supreme artifact, an entity of unfathomable might, or a law of the universe that refuses to be observed. Perhaps it is the very thing responsible for your rise the hidden hand that allowed a mortal like you to reach this point… of strength despite lacking the power to do so. And answer to mystery behind so many questions you are holding.. as like where you get those powers and where.. Before getting those powers you disappear to.. And talks you have.. in mod specs disappearing."

Razeal could feel the intensity of Vaelitharion's crimson gaze drilling into him, as if the vampire king wanted to dissect every inch of his being just to satisfy his endless curiosity. The corners of the ancient's mouth twitched upward again, showing the faintest glint of his perfect, white fangs.

He is… such an chatterbox, Razeal realized. A chatterbox who spoke as though words were his chosen method of entertainment. Maybe it made sense someone who had lived countless millennia, burdened with immortality, would need to talk simply to stay sane. The boredom of eternity was a curse few could imagine.

Razeal sighed inwardly. He was more than slightly uncomfortable, even though the vampire didn't seem outwardly hostile. Still, the man had literally read his blood without permission, and now he was theorizing about the secret he carried.

"System…" Razeal called silently in his mind, expression neutral. "Is he talking about you right now?"

[Of course. No one can know about me unless I permit it.]

Razeal blinked once, exhaling softly. "Huh. Alright, thought so," he thought.

He relaxed his shoulders slightly. Sure, he was still annoyed that this overgrown vampire had practically stolen a drop of his blood without permission and even gained his memories, but… again what was he really going to do about it? The guy was the second strongest villain in all existence according to the system's rankings and Razeal wasn't exactly in a position to lecture him on manners.

Besides, he reminded himself, this wasn't even the real world. This was a sealed system space, a space completely under his system's control. No one could enter or leave it except him.

So, he pushed the irritation aside. Time was something he didn't have the luxury to waste on pride or ego.

Taking a low breath, he finally spoke up. "Well, let's just… forget that part," he said, raising a hand dismissively. "Forgive and forget, right? Anyway…"

He straightened, his expression turning serious again. "If you really are looking for some entertainment, then how about this you help me, and in return, I'll make sure you won't be bored for a while... And come and greet you here and there. All I need from you is a powerful ability. Something that can help me deal with my current… situation."

He met the vampire's gaze steadily. "I'm sure you already know what's happening outside. I don't have much time left."

For a moment, the vampire said nothing. His face remained calm, his expression unreadable. Then a small smile curved his lips.

"Ahh yes… the small wave of sea creatures currently attacking you," Vaelitharion said smoothly, his tone casual, as if describing something as insignificant as a drizzle.

He paused, his red eyes gleaming faintly with amusement.

"Well," he said after a heartbeat, "for your sake and perhaps for your disappointment I'm afraid I don't possess a 'skill' that fits your request."

Razeal's brows furrowed slightly. "You… don't?"

"No," the vampire king replied simply, his voice calm and unbothered. "You see, unlike your world, mine does not function by the same… 'power' of skills and ranks. There are no 'abilities' here that can simply be gifted or learned within moments. In my era, there were only three kinds of beings.. humans, gods, and myself....Vampires."

He spread his hands slightly, the faint shimmer of blood-red magic curling around his fingertips before dissipating again.

"And then, of course," he continued with quiet pride, "came the offerings those who accepted my blood and became the first vampires. My children."

"I possess knowledge of many things," he said smoothly. "Arts. Weapons. Martial disciplines. Ancient techniquesnkf gods and the forbidden arts of forgotten ages. I have even stolen fragments of divinity itself."

His voice lowered slightly, dark and melodic. "But these are not things you could learn in mere moments. To truly master even one of them would take you years if not centuries. And you, my little mortal visitor…" He smiled faintly. "…You don't have years, do you?"

The almost calm rejection in his tone made Razeal's jaw tighten slightly.

So that was it.

He had come all this way to the second strongest villain in existence hoping for a miracle… and instead found a philosopher who preferred talking about eternity and existential boredom over actually helping.

Razeal's shoulders slumped slightly, his frown deepening. "So that's it, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "What a waste of time."

He couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. Who knew that one of the most powerful beings ever recorded would be so… utterly useless? He'd half a mind to punch something.

Maybe I should've gone to Zara instead, he thought grimly. She's crazy.. Yes but at least she gets things done.

But then again… would she have even agreed to help him? Probably not.

As Razeal was lost in his thoughts, a faint chuckle reached his ears.

He looked up, and there it was again that same unnervingly elegant smile on the vampire's face.

"Oh, but don't look so disappointed, human," Vaelitharion said, his tone now more playful. "I never said I have nothing to offer."

Razeal's frown eased just slightly.

"I may not grant you a skill," the vampire continued, his voice soft but carrying an edge of mischief, "but I have something far more… interesting. Something that might suit you better."

He took a slow step forward, his shadow stretching unnaturally across the floor, swallowing the light around him. The atmosphere shifted, the air itself thickening as the vampire's presence grew heavier.

His grin widened sharp, predatory, gleaming with that inhuman charm that only a being of his kind could possess.

"Something that could help you greatly," he said, his voice lowering into a whisper that still somehow echoed across the grand hall. "And perhaps…" He paused, tilting his head, his fangs catching the faint light. "…provide me with a little entertainmental thought as well."

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