SSS-RANKED Awakening: Supreme Fate-breaker System

The man who had taken the full force of his most desperate, most powerful attack... and was still standing tall, untouched.

The shattered remains of the greatsword lay scattered around Gareth's feet.

But the man himself…

Not even a scratch.

Ethan's breath hitched. His heart, which had soared at the sight of the blade breaking, now sank like a stone.

"That… that didn't even faze him…"

Ethan's chest heaved as he fought to steady his breath.

"Shattering the sword... was that the criteria?" he managed to say between gasps.

Gareth stood there, towering, calm — as though the fight had been little more than a stroll in the park.

"Of course not, Ethan," Gareth replied, his voice carrying that strange mix — part warm, part cold, impossible to read.

"Dealing a fatal blow… like you just did now. That was my real criteria. But still, a strike like that would have shattered this sword regardless. After all—" his eyes flicked to the ruined weapon in his hand, "—this greatsword is merely a Rank 1 blade."

With a flick of his wrist, he cast aside what little remained — the hilt, the only part left intact after Ethan's blow. It hit the ground with a dull, metallic clatter.

Ethan's eyes widened as the sound echoed faintly. "Wait… this isn't your real greatsword?"

Gareth's lips curled slightly, not quite a smile. His voice dropped lower, sharper.

"Foolish boy. Had I used Bastion Rend—" he said, "—you wouldn't have lasted a single exchange. One slash and you'd be dead where you stand. I held back my strength more than you can imagine."

Ethan's heart pounded harder. This side of Gareth… this overwhelming, absolute strength… it was something he'd never fully grasped until now.

Swallowing thickly, he tried to keep his voice steady. "So… was that thirty percent of your power? Or maybe fifty…?"

For a beat, silence hung in the air.

Then Ethan caught it — the faint twitch at the corner of Gareth's mouth. His father was holding back a laugh.

With a heavy hand, Gareth clapped Ethan on the back, making his knees nearly buckle.

When he spoke, his tone was laced with condescension, like a king humoring a child.

"Don't embarrass my name, son. That was barely one percent of my strength."

Ethan froze, stunned beyond words.

His mind reeled. He had thought he understood how powerful Gareth Drakethorne was. But this… this was on an entirely different plane.

'One percent…?!'

His thoughts spiraled.

'If one percent is already this overwhelming… then at full strength… he could obliterate mountains.

And he resisted my strongest technique using only his mana… No wonder they call him the Labyrinth Overlord. The man who cleared two high Labyrinths single-handedly…'

But before Ethan could voice any of the questions racing through his mind, Gareth's voice cut through — cold and distant now, like steel slamming shut.

"You leave at dawn. Prepare everything you'll need tonight."

There was no warmth left in those words.

It wasn't a suggestion — it was a command, a verdict passed down from father to son.

"Yes," Ethan replied, his voice steady. But inside… inside was a storm.

The next second, Gareth turned away. His figure faded into the dim light, and his footsteps made no sound at all — as if he had never been there to begin with.

The training ground fell silent.

Ethan stood frozen for a long breath. Then, slowly, his hands clenched into fists. His knuckles turned white.

His chest felt tight — so tight it almost hurt. A thousand emotions surged all at once.

Relief.

Pride.

Vindication.

And beneath it all… a flicker of something raw and fierce — triumph.

After all the pain, after the countless strikes, after standing toe-to-toe with a man who seemed invincible…

He had done it. His first goal — the first wall on his path to greatness — cracked and broken beneath his will.

His throat burned, but he swallowed it down.

But the heat in his chest was real. Fierce. Uncontainable.

"This is just the beginning," he told himself.

But even so… he allowed himself this moment.

His fists trembled — not from fear, but from the sheer force of the emotion coiled inside him like a drawn bowstring. The tension of holding back for so long. The weight of finally stepping forward.

His lips parted, and a breath slipped out — shaky, but laced with fire. "I did it."

The thought echoed in his mind like a victory cry, silent but deafening.

And as the cool night wind swept through the empty training ground, Ethan lifted his head to the dark sky, his eyes burning with new light.

Tomorrow, at dawn, the real journey would begin. But tonight — tonight, he stood taller than he ever had before.

Now, he had to prepare...

Ethan sat at his desk, a large, worn map of the world spread out before him — the world of Nexa. Candles flickered at the corners, casting golden light on the ancient parchment.

His eyes traced the lines again and again. The place were the two Drakethorne Labyrinth connected to was territory where the Drakethorne family ruled... the borderlands beyond... and further still, the vast and dangerous outer world that awaited him.

His finger hovered over key locations:

— Valeron Crossing, the last fortified city before the wilderness.

— The Scarlet Expanse, a treacherous desert said to hide ancient ruins.

— And far beyond, the great trade cities like Ormere and Velka Port where information, power, and people from far and wide gathered.

'Once I'm out of the Drakethorne territory... that's where everything begins,' Ethan thought, his pulse steady but fierce. 'Then, I'll pursue the strength I seek without anything holding me back'

Ethan was called for dinner...

The long dining hall of the Drakethorne estate glowed softly under golden chandeliers, casting warm light over the polished wooden table where the family gathered.

Gareth's seat at the head was empty — as expected. His absence left a strange silence hanging over the hall, but Darius, ever the glue that held them together, leaned back in his chair with a broad grin.

Ethan ignored Darius as he set down his fork, the faint clink drawing everyone's eyes.

He exhaled slowly, then lifted his gaze. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

The words dropped like a stone into still water.

Darius blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "Well, look at you, little brother. Off to brave the world, and here we are stuck babysitting the estate." He raised his glass in a mock toast, his voice light, teasing. But the smile didn't quite reach his sharp eyes. "Are you being for real?"

But Ethan didn't smile. His face was calm, serious — too serious.

Darius's grin faltered, his brows knitting together. He set his glass down with a soft thud. "Wait… this is why you've been asking to meet Father these past few days, isn't it?"

Ethan nodded once. "Yes."

A heavy silence fell over the table.

Across from him, Mia's face visibly sank. She leaned in abruptly, clutching his arm with both hands. "Ethan… why? Why do you have to go? Don't you like it here? Don't you like being with us?" Her voice cracked, and her lips trembled as though she was struggling not to cry right there at the table.

Ethan's chest tightened. He reached out, gently patting her head. "Mia…" he murmured, but he didn't answer her question. He couldn't.

Dan, sitting further down, remained mostly silent, his knife moving with calm, mechanical precision as he cut into his steak. But he let out a soft, long sigh. "Let him go," he muttered without looking up. "He won't grow stronger sitting here and being pampered." His tone was blunt, practical — but it wasn't unkind. That was Dan's way.

Ethan gave his elder brother a small nod. That, at least, he understood.

Their mother, seated at the head of the table where Gareth's usual empty chair loomed like a silent shadow, finally spoke. Her voice was soft, but firm enough to silence even Mia's whimpers. "So… Gareth has agreed to this?"

Ethan's eyes met hers. There was so much in her gaze — worry, pride, fear, resignation.

"Yes," Ethan said. "My mind is set. He've allowed me to go."

The tension in the room thickened. They all understood in that moment — this wasn't some impulsive plan they could talk him out of. The decision was made. Both Ethan and Gareth had agreed. And with those two locked wills, Gareth most especially… no one in this family could undo it.

Ethan saw the way his mother's shoulders sagged slightly, her fingers curling against the edge of the tablecloth.

Mia's grip on his arm only tightened. Her voice came out small. "But… but why? Why now? Can't you stay just a little longer? Just… just a few more days?"