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

Chapter 364: Decree Of Dead

”Ummm?” Razeal stood there, still staring at the description of the authority hovering in his vision, rereading it not once or twice but several times, as if his mind refused to accept it on the first pass. The more he read, the more absurd it became. His right eyebrow twitched uncontrollably, a small, involuntary spasm betraying how taken aback he truly was, even though his face otherwise remained composed. Then.. slowly, almost without him realizing it a faint smile crept onto his lips. Not wide or overlay excited. Just... amused.

He had asked for something simple. A skill that maybe detect lies? A way to tell truth from deception. That was it. And instead.. He got this.. Like it now genuinely felt like as he had walked into a shop asking for a pistol and walked out with a nuclear warhead strapped casually under his arm. This wasn’t a lie detector or interrogation. Like.. death itself being dragged by the collar and told to speak? and it would have to?..

Like just how fucking cool is that?

Razeal honestly didn’t know how to react.

It was ridiculous. Overkill didn’t even begin to describe it. And yet.. how could he deny it? It was cool. Ridiculously, obscenely cool. The kind of thing a part of him couldn’t help but appreciate on a very basic level. You needed an answer? Simple. Dig up a grave, point your finger, ask your question, and the dead themselves would crawl back just to answer you honestly. No excuses, manipulation or hiding.

And the thought that followed made his smile deepen, just a fraction.

And what about alive people?

Well... that could be solved too. Like maybe mill them first and fhen ask.

Was it wrong?

He didn’t know.. whatver it was right or wrong.. Like honestly he didn’t care.. at least not right now.

Right and wrong were problems for later. Future Razeal would deal with morality when it came. But for now Razeal was busy acknowledging one undeniable truth.

Cool was cool.

Lucifer... This guy really was big-hearted afterall Razeal thought with genuine amusement. Worthy of the title King of Hell apparently. No wonder he ruled where he did. Anyone who casually handed out something like this was either terrifyingly confident or terrifyingly insane. Maybe both. Either way, Razeal found himself... pleased. Unexpectedly so.. Afterall it was very rare for him.. It was even badass then that shitty skeleton he got which even helped him level up pain tolerance. He rolled his eyes just thinking about it.

”It’ll work,” he thought quietly, nodding to himself. ”Perfectly.”

Whatever he had planned.. whatever doubts had gnawed at him before this will erased them all. No more second-guessing. No more wondering if someone lied, exaggerated, or twisted the truth. He would know. Absolutely and completely.

Satisfied, Razeal finally pulled his attention away from the system interface and returned his focus to the world around him.

And that was when an irritated voice cut through the calm.

”Fuck it,” Markeilous muttered, his tone sharp with annoyance. ”I was being considerate since I didn’t want to start beef with you, kid. But you’re not giving me any face at all. Don’t blame me for what happens next kido.”

Markeilous’s patience had clearly run out. Being ignored.. truly ignored, as if he didn’t even exist wasn’t something he was accustomed to. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, irritation bleeding into hostility. If words didn’t work, he’d force answers another way.

”Fine,” Markeilous said coldly. ”I’ll just read your memories.”

He extended his hand toward Razeal’s head, fingers spread, confidence clear in his posture. To him, this was already decided. He’d done worse. This was nothing.

But just as his fingertips came within a hair’s breadth of Razeal..

Razeal’s eyes suddenly moved.

For the first time since Markeilous had approached him, those deep crimson eyes tracked his motion, locking onto the incoming hand with chilling precision.

And in that same instant, the shadow beneath Razeal’s feet moved.

Not slowly or dramatically but.. Violently.

Extremely sharp shadowy tendrils erupted upward with lightning speed, tearing free from the darkness at Razeal’s feet like living weapons. They shot forward in a blur, aimed directly at Markeilous’s outstretched arm, their tips honed to a razor edge that radiated lethal intent.

Fast... Too fast. Markeilous’s instincts screamed as he fastly yanked his hand back and leapt away at the same time, retreating several steps in a single fluid motion, his guard snapping up as his body reacted before his mind could fully process what had just happened. The shadowy blades sliced through the space where his arm had been a moment earlier, missing him by less than an inch.

”What?” His breath hitched.

Only now did he fully register it. he hadn’t sensed any mana.

No fluctuation? no casting? no buildup? Nothing.

His eyes snapped to the black tendrils now coiling protectively around Razeal’s figure, moving as if they were alive.. no, not as if. They were alive. Each one sharp enough to pierce steel, their edges humming with a quiet menace, positioning themselves instinctively between Razeal and any perceived threat.

Markeilous’s gaze followed them carefully, tracing their origin.

They were coming out from Razeals shadow. No.. It was as if they were part of his

shadow?

His thought as his eyes followed their origin back to Razeal’s shadow.

Not emerging from it but.. Extending from them?

”...Shadow?” he narrowed his eyes. ”Is he manipulating his own shadow?”

Materializing it?

An extension of it?

Or manifestation?

”Shadow... manipulation?” he muttered, frowning deeply. ”What is this?”

Materializing shadows? Giving them form, autonomy, lethality? He had never seen anything like this.. not in all his years. His mind raced, analyzing every detail: the texture identical to the shadow beneath Razeal, the way they moved without command, the complete absence of mana usage.

Markeilous took another cautious step back, eyes never leaving the boy. His irritation had evaporated, replaced by sharp wariness. Whoever this kid was, he was dangerous.

”Who are you?” Markeilous demanded, his voice lower now, guarded.

”What do you want, kid?” Makelious asked, clearly wanting to know the purpose of this child’s presence.

He didn’t know why, but he could instinctively sense the hostility radiating from the boy. As for the reason behind it? he had no answer.

He tried to recognize him, to find some trace of familiarity, but couldn’t. The child’s facial features didn’t match any enemy he knew, nor anyone he had ever harmed. If this was revenge, then it made no sense.. because Makelious was certain of one thing: if he had ever wronged this boy or his family, he would have remembered.

There was no way he wouldn’t.

The kid’s features alone were unforgettable paired with a charisma that felt almost otherworldly. His parents must have been beautiful, Makelious thought distantly. So how could he not recognize him?

Those deep crimson eyes...

Dark?Bloody and Inhuman in way he couldn’t describe it

Looking into them sent a strange chill through him, as if he were staring at a natural predator.

And yet.. there was something else.

A faint sense of recognition tugged at him. As though he had seen this child before. Some subtle facial characteristics felt painfully familiar, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place them.

Still, he remained cautious.

He studied the boy carefully, trying to identify the threat.. if there was one. Trying to understand who he was, why he was here, and what danger might be waiting beneath that unsettling gaze.

Markelious was this cautious because he still hadn’t fully understood what kind of place or sealed space he was in. He didn’t know the facts afterall.. that he couldn’t actually die mor age while in this place.. and many other things like that either? If he had known, he wouldn’t have been this wary. In truth, he wasn’t even fully sure whether he was dead or alive.

He clearly remembered being killed by his angry.. but beautiful wife. Yet here he was, still alive, fully conscious, existing in this strange space. It confused him deeply. He had guessed, at times, that this might be what came after death... but even then, he was never certain. He was always stuck at fifty–fifty.

After all, it had only been around thirty or thirty-five years since he had arrived here nothing compared to the countless villains who had been trapped in this place for billions upon billions of years, discovering its truths over time. They had learned that in this place, they could neither die nor age.

Obiously Markeilous was not one of them yet.

He was still caught between states half-believing he was dead, half-believing this was something else entirely. And that uncertainty made him cautious

As his eyes stayed on the unwelcomed guest.

From the child’s bearing alone, Markelious could tell he came from a noble background. And that robe... Even he never wore something that expensive, he thought. So refined and dignified looking.

The boy’s origins had to be exceptional. Was he royalty from another region? A member of some hidden family? Or maybe those secret empirez?

Royalty? he wondered.

Or perhaps something worse some hidden bloodline, an imperial offshoot or even another reality. The boy carried himself with a quiet authority that had nothing to do with arrogance and everything to do with certainty.

Markelious silently assessed Razeal, his calm eyes carefully gauging him, searching for any sign of danger or anything at all.

But Razeal did not care.

He did not care about the man’s thoughts, his calculations, his caution or whatever he was wondering about. He did not care about his confusion or his attempts to place him. Unlike Markeilous, Razeal did not have time to linger in uncertainty.

He had come here for one reason.

And he intended to leave with an answer.

Razeal lifted his gaze fully now, crimson eyes meeting Markeilous’s at last.

”Tell me,” Razeal said calmly, his voice steady, almost detached. ”Did you try to rape Merisa Virelan?”

There was no accusation in his tone. no anger, o threat. Just a simple straight out question.

Razeal did not issue any dramatic declaration. He simply activated the authority he had just received.

Decree of the Dead.

The words were simple.

But the moment they left his lips, the world seems to have changed.

The world didn’t shake.

The space didn’t distort.

No visible force erupted.

But for Markeilous world did change.

His body suddenly stopped.

Not froze.

It simply... refused to move.

His body froze mid-motion as if invisible chains had wrapped around his existence. His breath hitched violently, lungs refusing to draw air for a split second. His head lowered on its own, chin dropping toward his chest as if compelled by an authority his mind couldn’t comprehend.

”What... is this...?” he thought even his thoughts stuttering.

Sweat broke out across his skin in an instant cold, clammy, soaking. It trickled down his temples, gathered at his jaw, soaked into his collar. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, fingers twitching without command.

Fear.

Not ordinary fear... Not fear of death, pain, or loss.

But.. Deeper?

A primordial terror that surged straight from the core of his soul, bypassing logic entirely. It wasn’t tied to the question itself. It wasn’t about Merisa. It wasn’t about guilt or innocence.

It was the certainty.

The absolute, undeniable certainty that he had to answer.

That refusal was not an option?

That silence was not an option? That deception would lead to something so unimaginably worse that his mind recoiled from even attempting to imagine it.

Not consciously but Instinctively.

The feeling did not explain itself with words. It didn’t need to. It impressed its meaning directly into his soul.

You must answer.

Not should.

Not are requested to.

Must answer

No voice told him this? No rule was spoken. He just simply knew.

Knew it in the same way one knows fire burns or that falling from great height kills. An instinct carved into existence itself.

And beneath that fear pressing down on him like an infinite weight was another sensation that made his stomach twist violently.

Authority? Not dominance not pressure of even power.

But Authority..

Authority so absolute it erased the very concept of resistance.

And alongside that certainty came another far worse.

That lying was not an option? That refusal was not an option? That delay was not an option.

Because if he tried any of those

Something waited?

Something beyond anything? Beyond punishment? Beyond even madness.

A consequence so absolute that his soul recoiled from it without ever having seen it or knowing what it was.

Markeilous’s knees nearly buckled.

He had faced many great things. Even seen death shen he ahd faced Merisa herself in her fury.

But still none of that compared to this? Even death?

The boy in front of him wasn’t merely stronger.

For this moment, for this question, he felt like something above beings. Something closer to a god.. or perhaps something that is even beyond gods? He doesn’t know..

But for now..

Markeilous didn’t even dare lift his eyes. His pupils trembled. His vision blurred slightly from sweat and fear. His entire body was drenched now, soaked as if he had been submerged in water.

Razeal watched silently.

”So it works,” he thought, noting the reaction with calm observation.

He hadn’t been completely sure this authority would function here. This place was strange afterall, filled with beings that defied conventional definitions of life and death. Markeilous wasn’t a corpse afteral. Not exactly atleast.

But ultimately, the truth was simple.

He was dead.

And the Decree of the Dead didn’t care about technicalities.

Razeal nodded faintly, almost imperceptibly, then waited.

Also despite his outward calm, his heart was beating harder than he expected. A slow, heavy thump echoing in his chest, each beat strangely loud in his own ears.

He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the weight of the question. Maybe it was because this man.. this soul trembling in front of him.. was also his father? A man he had never met. Never known. Never spoken to. A man whose existence had shaped his life without ever being present in it.

Also that realization gave him a strange feeling. Along with it came expectations he didn’t want to admit to. For some reason, he found himself hoping that what Merisa had told him was a lie. If it were, then what had happened would never have been a fact.. So she might have never went through that.. and that alone would bring him relief?

Or maybe he simply had expectations toward his father. Maybe he wouldn’t be a disappointment?

Or maybe it was something else entirely? Razeal didn’t know honestly

He simply waited for the answer.. an answer that would define what kind of person Markelious truly was.

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