I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space Chapter 427: To another Kingdom

~13 minute read · 3,208 words
Previously on I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space...
Nova confesses her enduring love and offers her protection to Razeal, but he coldly rejects her plea for a hug and her final affectionate words. After Areon is sent through a portal, Nova departs, holding back tears. Razeal is suspicious of the unusually smooth departure, and then facilitates Maria's decision to forgo seeing her mother with Riven, before demanding a portal for Denvaar.
Inside the Denvaar Kingdom The Varn Capital Farr from the eerie plains as only filled with rocks and stones.. they had left behind, the transition was immediate and unmistakable. One by one, they stepped out from the fading shimmer of the portal into a narrow alley carved between old stone structures, with Razeal emerging last, his presence steady as the golden light behind him flickered once and vanished completely, sealing their arrival as if nothing had ever existed there before. The space they found themselves in was tight and enclosed, more of a passage than a proper street, its width barely enough for a single carriage to pass through, the stone underfoot uneven and worn down by time, and the walls on either side rising close enough to dull the air and trap the faint echo of their movements. There was no one else around, no voices, no footsteps, no distant activity leaking into the alley, only a stale stillness that made the place feel forgotten, or perhaps deliberately avoided, and the first thing that truly settled over them was not silence, but the smell thick, damp, unpleasant.. as if something that lingered heavily in the air as if it had been building there for days, if not longer, fed by the scattered waste pushed carelessly along the edges of the walls where broken crates, rotting scraps, and dark patches of unidentifiable filth collected without concern. For a moment, no one spoke. They simply stood there, each of them taking in the surroundings in their own way, adjusting to the abrupt contrast between where they had been and where they now were. For a moment after their arrival, no one spoke. Razeal stood at the center, his posture relaxed yet commanding, his gaze slowly sweeping across the alley, taking in every detail without haste, while the rest of his team instinctively gathered around, their attention shifting between him and their surroundings, as if waiting for the world itself to explain what came next. It was Maria who finally broke the silence, her steps soft as she moved toward one of the walls, her eyes narrowing slightly as she examined a weathered yet freshly placed poster. "Seems like we are indeed in the Denvaar Kingdom now," she said, her tone calm but edged with certainty, her fingers brushing lightly against the rough paper as she read the bold lettering announcing recruitment into the kingdom’s army. Her words drew the attention of the others almost immediately, their gazes aligning toward the same direction as they scanned the contents of the poster, and then, almost instinctively, their eyes began to notice the repetition dozens of identical notices plastered across both sides of the alley walls, layered over one another in some places, as if urgency had overtaken organization. Maria straightened slightly, her expression sharpening as her mind pieced together the implications. "Seems like you were indeed right," she continued, glancing back toward Razeal, "There is indeed a war going on in this kingdom. These posters look fresh recently put up.. and just look at how many there are, even in a place like this. If they’re covering even alleyways with recruitment notices, then they’re not just preparing... they are very desperate." Her analysis hung in the air with a quiet weight, not dramatic, but precise enough to leave no room for doubt. Razeal’s eyes lingered on the posters for a brief moment longer before he shifted his attention outward, past the immediate surroundings and into the subtle details that most would overlook. "Seems like that way," he replied simply, his voice low and measured, yet carrying an underlying acknowledgment of her conclusion. His gaze lifted slightly, observing the sky that peeked faintly through the narrow gap above.. the clouds were thick, heavy, and unmoving, casting a dull gray tone over everything, while the air itself felt humid, almost sticky against the skin. It was different.. markedly different from the Empire’s capital they had left behind, where wealth and order shaped even the atmosphere. Here, the stone beneath his feet was worn and uneven, the walls carried stains that spoke of neglect rather than age alone, and everything about the environment suggested a kingdom that struggled rather than thrived. In his mind, the contrast formed clearly.. the Empire was built on generations of overwhelming wealth and stability, while this... this was a place that endured rather than prospered. Even without the ability to sense mana, he could tell that the Empire’s mana was definitely more density abundant and refined, then this kingdom’s.. most would likely be diluted, weaker, insufficient also.. He thought to himself..

The rest of the team remained in hushed silence behind Razeal, their quiet now heavy with anticipation. While they understood, in theory, the objective and the nature of the plan they were embarking on, merely knowing the outcome didn't equate to grasping the intricate process involved.

After all, none of them had ever truly delved into the complexities of conquering a kingdom from within, nor had they initiated endeavors of such monumental scale from mere nothingness. In truth, it bordered on the absurd when contemplated – was such knowledge even available for study? Who would teach it, or where could one find it in any book?

How does one even commence such an undertaking? Where is the very first step taken? What is the initial thread to be tugged? Their unspoken uncertainties were palpable, evident in the way their gazes consistently returned to Razeal, as if waiting for him to illuminate the starting point of whatever was to unfold.

Then there was Nancy.

Unlike the others, she did not share in this unspoken understanding of the situation.

She stood slightly apart, her eyes drifting from one person to another, then back again, her expression a tapestry of confusion and discomfort that she made no effort to conceal. The silence, the absence of explanation, and the apparent pre-existing knowledge among everyone else – something she lacked – irritated her more than it unsettled her.

"Umm... yeah," she finally broke the stillness, her voice initially hesitant before gaining a more direct edge as she continued. "I did hear that we were coming to the Denvaar Kingdom, but I didn't really get the chance to ask before..." She swept a brief glance around, then fixed her eyes back on them. "So... what exactly are we doing here?"

Her question lingered, both simple and utterly essential.

Then, her nose wrinkled slightly, her expression shifting instantly as the smell seemed to assault her again, now more potent since she had stopped trying to ignore it. "Also... can we please get out of here?" she added, her tone moving from curiosity to annoyance as her gaze dropped toward the grimy edges of the alley. "Because this place smells..." she trailed off, muttering as she looked more closely at the refuse scattered along the ground. "Disgusting."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the clearer sight of the accumulated piles: decaying waste, shattered debris, damp patches suggesting more than mere water, all carelessly discarded against the walls. It was as if the alley served less as a thoroughfare and more as a convenient dumping ground, a place more frequented by garbage than by people.

Even though she had heard Maria speak of the war and had seen the propaganda posters plastered on the alley walls, Nancy allowed her thoughts to linger on it only for a fleeting moment. At this point, such a vast, distant problem didn't register as something she had the capacity to care about, not after everything she had endured. The past two months clung to her like an stain she couldn't wash away, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Compared to that, a war in some forgotten kingdom felt distant, almost inconsiderate, while the matters that truly held her attention were immediate and painfully real: her body, her condition, her sheer survival.

She lowered her gaze to her own attire, truly observing its state for the first time since their arrival. The fabric was torn in numerous places, dried blood stiffening several sections, the blatant marks of her suffering still visible as if unwilling to fade. For a brief instant, her expression tightened, not dramatically, but enough to reveal the resurfacing memory of it all – those days filled with pain, exhaustion, fear, and the relentless pressure of uncertainty. She quickly suppressed it, unwilling to let it overwhelm her again.

"Also... I need some new clothes," she stated, a faint edge to her voice as she looked down at herself, lightly brushing at a torn section as if the very state of her garments bothered her. "These are..." She left the sentence unfinished, deeming it unnecessary. The condition was self-evident.

Her thoughts immediately shifted, her priorities stark and unadorned. "And I need to eat something," she added, her tone altering, becoming more direct and less restrained. "I haven't eaten anything properly... anything tasty... for days. I really need to eat." There was no hesitation in her admission, no attempt to mask the need behind any pretense. At this juncture, hunger was no longer something she could feign ignorance of; it was a constant, draining presence, and she was weary of denying it.

Razeal listened, his gaze shifting towards her as she voiced her complaints. He offered a slight nod, acknowledging both her grievances and the unspoken turmoil beneath them. He understood that she was demonstrating remarkable composure, far beyond what most would manage under similar circumstances, and that alone was sufficient reason not to dismiss her concerns.

"We'll address that," he stated calmly, his voice even and controlled, as if cataloging her needs rather than disregarding them. "Just not at this moment." He paused briefly before adding, "This isn't the opportune time for it... but I give you my word, it won't be long."

Nancy regarded him, not entirely appeased but also refraining from argument. There was an underlying tone in his voice that suggested the delay was not arbitrary. Before she could probe further, Razeal shifted the focus entirely. "As for why we've come," he began, pausing as if carefully selecting his words, then stated it plainly, without preamble or emphasis, "We are taking over this kingdom."

For a fleeting moment, the words failed to fully register.

The rest of the group exhibited minimal reaction; a few exchanged glances, while others rolled their eyes, a clear indication that this audacious plan was hardly new to them, as if such levels of lunacy had become their norm.

Nancy, however, stood utterly still.

"What?" The single word escaped her lips almost involuntarily, her eyes widening as she fixed her gaze upon him, blinking rapidly as if struggling to comprehend what she had just heard. "What do you mean, 'taking over'?" she inquired, her voice laced with palpable disbelief. It seemed impossible that the sentence could genuinely signify what it sounded like.

Razeal spared her a brief glance. "I mean precisely what I said."

That was the extent of his explanation. No further elaboration or clarification was offered.

Then, he moved on as though his statement was sufficient. "Alright, let's not waste any more time. Follow me."

He turned without waiting, already proceeding towards the alley's end, where the faint sounds of human activity could be discerned—voices merging in the distance, hinting at a more bustling street beyond the confined passage.

Nancy remained rooted to her spot.

She stayed precisely where she was, her mind still attempting to catch up, to make sense of his pronouncement. Taking over a kingdom? That was not the sort of thing people casually declared. It wasn't a thought that entered the minds of ordinary individuals. He had to be joking. He simply had to be. Yet, as she glanced around and observed the others already moving, following him without the slightest hesitation, a disconcerting realization began to dawn on her.

No one else was questioning it?

Or even appearing surprised.

Her gaze swept across each of them. Honestly, she knew very few of them, Maria excepted. But these individuals, whoever they were, seemed to grasp Razeal's plan implicitly and remained remarkably composed. Was this magnitude of undertaking not a significant matter to them? Who exactly were these people? For a brief, fleeting moment, a chillingly real thought crossed her mind: Had she made a mistake by accompanying him?

"Don't look to us for answers, kiddo," Yograj remarked, noticing her expression. He slowed his pace just enough to glance back at her, his tone a blend of amusement and something akin to sympathy. "Believe me... he told us no more than he told you."

Nancy stared at him, not finding any reassurance in his words.

Aurora shared a brief look with Levy. Both cast a glance at Nancy, a subtle, shared understanding passing between them without the need for spoken words. Another soul drawn into this preposterous chaos.

"Come on," Yograj urged, turning back to follow Razeal. "Trust me, you don't want to get left behind." He paused very slightly before adding, "Especially when he's the one leading the charge."

There was something in his statement, subtle yet undeniably present, that made it sound less like advice and more like a solemn warning. One could easily recall what had transpired the last time they had been in such a situation.

Nancy remained motionless for another second, her thoughts still a tangled mess, her mind resisting the implications of what she had just heard. Then, Sofia stepped closer, gently taking her hand. It wasn't a forceful grip, but soft enough to guide her forward.

"Come," Sofia said quietly.

Nancy hesitated for just a moment before finally allowing herself to move. Her steps were initially uncertain, her gaze still drifting back towards where Razeal had gone, her mind desperately trying to comprehend the situation she had stumbled into. Nevertheless, she followed, letting Sofia lead her as the group advanced.

As the group advanced through the constricted passageway, Razeal led the way, his pace setting an unspoken rhythm that the others instinctively followed. Their footsteps produced faint echoes on the damp stone floor, while the suffocating, stale air seemed to embrace them, a reality they no longer acknowledged, as if resigning themselves to their current surroundings. The towering walls pressed in, leaving just enough space for them to navigate single file, their shoulders occasionally brushing against the coarse surfaces. Yet, Razeal moved with an unburdened grace, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture at ease, his gaze fixed far ahead, his consciousness seemingly detached from his physical location.

Yograj subtly quickened his stride, moving to Razeal’s side. His gaze fixed on Razeal’s face, a clear purpose dawning in his eyes. The prolonged silence had become unbearable, and he craved some concrete information. "So, how do we begin?" he inquired, his tone attempting a casual facade, though an unmistakable edge of concern betrayed his efforts. "What is the plan?" He paused briefly, then added under his breath, "If there even is one... Obviously..." His eyes narrowed slightly, the act of following Razeal without any intelligence felt less like a calculated maneuver and more like blindly stumbling into the unknown.

Razeal offered no immediate reply. His steady pace remained unbroken, his expression impassive, as if the inquiry lacked any real urgency or significance. Then, without diverting his gaze or altering his tone, he stated plainly, "I don't know."

A brief stillness settled upon them.

"Haven't quite figured it out yet... But we will get there."

Yograj's steps faltered momentarily, his face an unreadable mask as he struggled to comprehend if he had truly heard Razeal correctly. "You what...?" The words escaped before he could intercept them, his expression morphing from disbelief to a quiet frustration. He had anticipated unpredictability, certainly, but not to this degree. He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, running a hand through his hair as he momentarily lagged behind, clearly re-evaluating several pivotal life choices, before compelling himself to resume walking... not his fault. ..it was his daughter’s fault.

Razeal, however, made no acknowledgment of Yograj's reaction.

Instead, he subtly turned his head towards Maria, redirecting his attention as if Yograj's response held no consequence. "Maria," he called out calmly, his voice unwavering, "Tell me about the Denvaar Kingdom. How does it function? Its system of governance... its structure... and anything else I ought to know..." His gaze now rested fully upon her, sharp yet devoid of pressure. "You possess knowledge regarding this, correct? Or should I seek it out myself?"

Maria responded with immediate, almost instinctive alacrity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice firm and carrying a trace more brightness than before, as if the nature of the question had ignited a spark within her, a sense of purpose or utility that had been absent moments prior. A faint, genuine smile graced her lips as she advanced a few steps, closing the distance and drawing level with Razeal, walking shoulder to shoulder with him as if by natural inclination, without hesitation. Sofia and the others maintained their position a step behind, observing the subtle shift with quiet attention.

"I am quite knowledgeable about this kingdom," she added, her tone now more composed and measured, as though she were mentally organizing the information she had gathered before vocalizing it.

"The Denvaar Kingdom's system is intricate," she commenced, "but not overly complex to grasp if viewed from the appropriate perspective." Her gaze flickered forward momentarily as they continued their progress through the alley, then returned to him. "At its foundational level, it is remarkably straightforward."

She paused briefly before proceeding. "This kingdom is presided over by eleven great houses."

Razeal turned his head towards her at this, a single eyebrow arching slightly. "Eleven houses?" he murmured, a subtle hint of amusement coloring his expression. 'That's quite a number for something purportedly simple,' he mused inwardly, the corner of his mouth twitching with an almost-smile.

Maria instantly perceived his unspoken thought.

"It is standard," she stated calmly, preempting his internal commentary. "Consider our own empire, for instance... on the surface, it appears to be governed by only four ducal houses, the primary pillars." She gestured lightly with her hand as she elaborated with quiet precision. "However, beneath that layer exist ten pillar families... and subsequently, dozens of lesser noble houses, each fulfilling distinct roles and responsibilities. They are simply not given the same prominence."

She met his gaze again. "Denvaar's structure is not fundamentally different."

"It is merely less potent."

"Their 'great houses' would barely qualify as high-tier families in the empire," she elaborated, her tone precise and unwavering. "However, within this realm, they form the very foundation. Each house presides over a distinct domain—be it military command, trade routes, internal governance, logistics, agriculture, or defense systems—and collectively, they sustain the entire kingdom."

Razeal gave a single nod, conveying his understanding without a word.

"Yet, their standing is not uniform," Maria interjected, her voice gaining a sharper edge, her gaze intensifying. "Certain houses wield considerable...