I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space Chapter 385: Maria knowing The truth

Celestia gradually pulled back all remnants of her platinum aura into her core. The dazzling glow that had lit up the broken heavens just before dimmed away, leaving only a subtle glimmer around her outline. She hovered in the sky, stance upright, arms loosely by her sides, face serene. From afar, she appeared peaceful, nearly tranquil. A slight grin tugged at her mouth's edge. It held no warmth. It carried no scorn. It was shrewd. A change had occurred in her thoughts. The aggression driving her previous assaults had given way to a subtler flow of ideas, as the notion in her mind made her cease viewing Sofia as a foe.

Sofia, on the other hand, felt far from composed.

Her breaths came in ragged heaves, hands clenching into rigid balls. The revulsion twisting in her gut lingered. In fact, it had intensified. Celestia's dismissal of Razeal’s pain as a “miscalculation” had clawed at a deep, instinctual part of her. No spouse, no companion, would tolerate such a thing in silence. The notion that he had been thrown away for being feeble, for not matching expectations, for hindering goals, filled her sight with raging haze.

She uttered no further words.

Debate had ended.

Before the atmosphere could calm, Sofia blinked out of sight.

The area she had filled warped fiercely as she surged forward—no buildup of speed, no obvious preparation. She just vanished and materialized before Celestia in under a heartbeat, resembling a comet streaking through darkness. Her punch was already swinging, targeted straight at Celestia’s visage.

This velocity surpassed her earlier efforts.

This power exceeded previous strikes.

Her whole demeanor had transformed.

Her aura, while not shaped like standard mana, pressed down heavier, thicker, more ominous. Even her shape appeared modified. The paths of her motion grew keener; the afterimage she trailed in the breeze doubled. She refused to restrain herself any longer.

She aimed to end it.

“Hey, stop. I don’t want to fight anymore. Let’s talk,” Celestia stated calmly, staying utterly still as Sofia charged with intense murderous vibe. No alarm colored her tone. No haste. She genuinely sought to end the conflict. Not after her newfound insight.

Yet Sofia ignored pleas.

Celestia let out a quiet sigh.

Fine then.

If talk fails, I’ll bind you instead.

She lifted her palm deliberately—not rushed, not guarded, but with precise command. Her open hand started to shine, rich platinum radiance pooling near her digits. It wasn’t chaotic or bursting. It was focused. Polished. The force materialized like pale flames encasing her flesh—pure, radiant, nearly divine in look. It spread in regulated pulses, a thick platinum presence infused with cutting dominance.

All these ideas, actions, rising resolves unfolded in under a single breath.

Celestia stayed afloat, ready for the blow.

And then

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The heavens erupted.

The blast was immense—vastly beyond any earlier clash. The blast wave exploded like a bottled starburst, rattling the whole marketplace area beneath. The earth split wider. Rubble spun in wild arcs. Numerous roofs caved from the force. Panes broke over several blocks. Folks down there had to shield behind quick-made shields.

The roar boomed through the city like lightning splitting the firmament.

However

Right at the blast's heart

Sofia’s punch hadn’t touched Celestia.

The hit froze in the void, mere inches from her cheek.

Moment seemed to pause.

And abruptly

Flap.

Flap.

The clear, weighty noise of wings slicing wind echoed in the collision's core.

Celestia’s gaze widened a touch—not in terror, but true astonishment.

Before her, halting Sofia’s lethal hit, was another person.

One who had materialized in a flash.

One whose swiftness matched—or maybe outpaced—Sofia’s own.

The form faced away from Celestia, guarding her from the assault. What seized her focus right away, though, wasn’t the stance, wasn’t the meddling.

But those wings.

They spanned hugely.

Graceful in form, yet profoundly eerie.

Bat-shaped in build, curved tall and broad, extending with fearsome poise. The webs weren’t feathery—no gentle feathers of heavenly glow. Rather, they were sleek, tight, and oddly vital. Dark red. The hue of new blood under faint illumination.

Not resembling cloth or spells she recognized.

They seemed nearly breathing.

Celestia scowled as she peered nearer.

The fine hide of the wings pulled across lengthened, jutting bones that reached like honed claws. Every bony edge stood out under the web, forming rough outlines along the borders. The wings beat again, firm and strong, scattering the remaining blast around them as though slicing the breeze.

A subtle yet certain infernal force emanated from them. It wasn’t sacred. It wasn’t regal. It was ancient. Shadowy. Something outside the usual power orders Celestia grasped—or even knew of.

Its mere existence weighed the air down.

Warmed it.

Made it riskier.

Celestia fixed on the figure’s rear, her platinum stare sharpening.

She didn’t know those wings.

That disturbed her more than she’d confess.

She had delved into lost lineages, vanished peoples, godly creatures, old spell traces, heavenly oddities—anything in or past the realm’s annals. But the appendages unfurled here matched nothing familiar. They weren’t dragonish. Not heavenly. Not in any noted way. They were different—something primal.

And right when she truly examined them, a profound, gut-level disgust surged from her depths.

It wasn’t logical.

It wasn’t reasoned.

It was base.

Her whole self shrank from it.

As if a murmur from her soul’s core hissed... something like... This entity ought not to be.

A subtle, spooky chill crept along her back, as though her own blood spurned the being ahead. The platinum aura inside her wavered lightly—not from dread, but natural denial. Something was basically off with this force. It seemed... tainted. Spoiled. Not just evil but repulsive in a manner older than order.

Still, she held back.

She merely squinted, attempting to spot the one stopping Sofia’s hit, but the wings blocked too much, too fully. Their reach threw a crimson shade over her features, the fleshy parts snaring the cracked sky’s rays.

Then her eyes drifted down a bit.

To the locks.

The known tint.

Awareness hit.

Her scowl grew deeper at once.

This individual?

A picture shaped in her head.

Sofia, in the meantime, had responded on pure reflex when her strike got blocked. Even amid her rage, even at that pace, she sensed the block. Her defenses rose fast, sinews tensing to crush the intruder who dared step in.

But as she glanced up

Her face altered.

“Maria?” she let out on impulse.

Her tone still held ire.

“Why the fuck are you stopping me...”

The words trailed off in her gullet.

For the one ahead was Maria.

And not quite Maria either.

Her gaze tightened gradually, bewilderment eclipsing wrath.

Maria’s form angled away a touch, her grasp still firm on Sofia’s punch, securing it with ease.

But at her rear

Two vast bat-like wings beat leisurely, ponderous and intentional. They showed deep scarlet, flesh-hued, and strangely alive. The webs pulled tight over extended, bony protrusions like pointed talons. Bone crests bulged through the hide, lending the wings a serrated, hunter’s outline.

They weren’t ornamental or illusory projections.

They were genuine.

And as if that lacked impact.

From Maria’s right temple, a pitch-dark horn bent skyward, ram-like, sleek but pointed at the end. It emerged from her flesh like it had always been part.

One eye had shifted utterly.

The usual shade persisted but... Deeper, more vivid.

An intensely dark red pupil that shone softly with inner glow, like coals under soot. The white around it looked faintly shadowed, subtle lines showing like fissures branching out.

Odd symbols—aged, complex—had surfaced over half her face too. They ran from brow to jaw, bent down her throat, and hid under her neckline. The designs evoked ancient scripts, maybe runes, marked in pale black and muted red, throbbing gently as though breathing.

The force pouring from her had changed.

Infernal.

Ancient.

Frighteningly steady.

Sofia gaped.

“What... no... are you alright?” she queried, real worry pushing aside all else momentarily. “What happened to you?”

She overlooked how Maria had halted her fatal lunge with a single grip. She ignored how Maria had blocked a move Celestia hadn’t foreseen.

Even the ease with which Maria clutched her fist... Dealt with her assault like it was featherlight.

But to her question... Maria stayed silent.

She didn’t glance at Sofia.

Her hold eased a fraction.

The gesture seemed soft. Nearly distracted.

And still

The second her digits let go...

Sofia’s frame got flung rearward.

Not shoved.

Propelled.

As though hit by an unseen apocalyptic power.

She rocketed through the clouds like a shooting star, wind howling as she soared scores of meters off. She slammed into a nearby dwelling below, smashing through ceiling and sides in a single brutal rush before burying in wreckage. The structure buckled partly, grit bursting into a huge haze.

It unfolded so swiftly that Celestia’s gaze flashed with shock.

Sofia, who had traded hits with her evenly just prior without shifting...

Got tossed aside like trash.

By a mere letting go.

And the creepiest aspect

Maria hadn’t seemed to mean that much might.

It appeared nearly unintended.

As if she hadn’t yet attuned to her own might.

Down below, debris stirred as haze climbed skyward.

Up high, Maria pivoted gradually.

The wings tucked a bit at her back as she turned toward Celestia.

Her look wasn’t furious.

It was restrained.

Lethally grave.

Her red eye shimmered dimly as it fixed on the royal.

“What did you just say?” Maria inquired.

Her tone was deep... And... Icy.

Celestia sensed the change right away.

Truthfully, moments earlier all had been well. Maria had been below, somewhat concerned over halting Sofia and Celestia’s brawl amid the empire, fretting over potential disasters.

But that was past.

She had caught the exchange between Sofia and Celestia... and that flipped everything.

That was when she abruptly heard words not meant for her ears.

Celestia appeared to confess it was their error when Sofia probed why they treated Razeal so.

And clearly, Maria wasn’t so innocent. From those phrases alone, she grasped the reality. And with that grasp, she lost control of her feelings. Before realizing, she had morphed into this odd shape, granting her some insanely superior power.

And she hadn’t even noticed her shift. All that transpired was pure reflex.

She hadn’t willfully called the force. She hadn’t chosen the change. It was reflexive. Her sentiments overwhelmed bounds, logic, limits, and her form reacted ahead of her thoughts. The wings had burst from her shoulders unbidden. The horn had pierced her hide without notice. The red eye had flared as if some hidden legacy had snapped free.

She hadn’t even known she’d altered.

All she grasped was the truth striking like a dagger to the vitals.

She just gazed with an empty look, no twitch, at Celestia’s features. Naturally, with the insight she’d reached, disbelief gripped her. Facing the facts was tough.

Celestia, for her part, held Maria’s stare steadily. Past the beastly shape, past the hellish force flowing from her, Celestia read the query in Maria’s eyes instantly.

And she offered no verbal reply. She merely returned the look. Quiet. That quiet affirmed it.

And that affirmation proved too much. Maria’s red eye quivered first. Then her inhale caught. The wings at her back halted in mid-flap as if they too bore the burden pressing her torso.

Tears started flowing before she knew she wept. They traced her face in quiet paths initially, snagging on the shadowy symbols carved into her skin.

Her whole frame drooped in the air, grief surging through her so fiercely that the infernal force wavered erratically around her. Razeal was blameless.

The idea built gradually, dreadfully. Blameless. The loathing she’d once aimed at him—each scowl, each cutting remark, each grimace of distaste—had rested on falsehood.

Her insides knotted fiercely. All she’d thought. All she’d voiced. It was false.

Abruptly, every act she’d aimed at him, every word she’d hurled— all flooded her view. Sentiments swelled within.

She pictured herself in school corridors, eyeing him with disdain. She heard her tone branding him repulsive. She recalled the instance she’d faced the crowd and hinted he threatened the girls, that he ought not stay in school.

Recalled the fight. Recalled the chill and scorn in her words when he sought to talk. Her eyes began quaking plainly.

The visions wouldn’t cease. Each replayed in painful clarity. How he’d lingered there, mute... Pretending indifference. But now reflecting... He must have ached.

“I called him disgusting...” she murmured into the vast sky, her voice fracturing amid open air. The phrase tasted toxic now. “I said he doesn’t deserve anything...” Her neck constricted so she gasped for air. The recall of charging him publicly, pushing for his ouster... Burned like venom in her ribs.

How must he have sensed it then? Positioned there, blamed for something foul. Shunned socially, cut off, condemned. And she... She’d been among them. No. Worse. She’d been one who ought to have believed in him. She’d owed him greatly.

And yet she’d turned away. Her tears flowed fiercer now, paired with ragged gasps. “I... I was wrong...” The phrase scarcely shaped amid the sob rising in her. “I wronged him... I... I...” She couldn’t complete it. The load crushed her. It seemed she’d done something irredeemable.

She floated mid-heavens, beastly wings outstretched, horn throwing a rough shadow on the clouds, yet inwardly she felt tiny—tinier than ever before.

Celestia simply observed with bewilderment, uncertain what had just fractured within Maria.

But Maria ignored her. Her sight swam from weeping. Her thoughts lingered elsewhere—in every instant she’d let him down. She envisioned him isolated after the claims spread. The murmurs. The glares. The doors softly shutting.

The solitude. The wounds both seen and hidden. The shattered, wary self she’d noted afterward. The remoteness in his gaze. And she’d deemed it guilt’s sign. When really, it stemmed from disloyalty. She clamped a shaking palm to her breast as if to keep herself intact. “I’m sorry...” she exhaled, though he wasn’t close to catch it. “I should’ve trusted you...”

The remorse clawed her with savagery beyond any bodily gash. She had cherished him. Even in ire. Even in error. She had cherished him. And rather than kindness, she’d dealt verdict.

Rather than shielding him, she’d added to the condemning chorus. Rather than staying near, she’d departed. Because she’d favored others’ tales over him. Because she’d believed the story over the soul.

And now truth lay bare before her. He’d never erred. The awareness made her sob deeper, frame shuddering despite the vast might from her altered form.

The twist was bitter—this vast, hellish power stirring just as she felt frailest. The infernal presence wavered unevenly as her feelings whirled. “He was never wrong...” she muttered shattered in her thoughts, sight blurring.

“I... I hurt him... I hurt the one person who...” She couldn’t end it. The shame choked her. She pictured his feelings under false charges, forsaken by nearest allies, burdened with a mark not his.

She pictured him alone in that tempest, and the image shredded her core. Hovering amid ruined peaks and split firmament, Maria did not resemble a monster.