I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space Chapter 440: Belongs To Who?

Celestia remained rooted, her gaze fixed upwards towards her mother. The composed facade she had painstakingly maintained wavered for but a fleeting instant. It wasn't an outward display, but a subtle tremor in her pupils, a momentary glimpse into something unguarded and raw beneath her eyes. A profound, deep-seated longing was visible, a longing that hadn't just appeared, but had quietly taken root over time and now refused to be ignored. Nerissa's pronouncements were never hollow; Celestia understood this better than anyone.

If her mother declared something possible, it would be accomplished, regardless of obstacles, opposition, or the disruption of established power dynamics. This certainty wasn't mere faith; it was an undeniable truth. Consequently, the offer presented was not a mere possibility but a tangible reality, within her immediate grasp. Acceptance was the only requirement.

And for a brief, suspended moment...

She nearly relented.

The thought surfaced unbidden yet potent: simply agree. Cast aside all reservations, all hesitation, and accept what was being freely given. It would be effortless, a definitive end to turmoil. The distance, the rebuffs, the persistent uncertainty – all would vanish with a single utterance.

Yet, she did not speak the word.

Instead, she drew a slow, steadying breath before softly shaking her head. "No, Mother."

Her refusal, though quiet, was absolute.

Nerissa's brows furrowed slightly, not with anger, but with a rare and genuine bewilderment, a sight less common than displays of her authority.

"Why?" she inquired, her tone subtly shifting to convey her immediate lack of understanding regarding the decision. "I believed you desired him."

Celestia’s eyes did not waver. "I do desire him," she affirmed, her voice even, though the underlying emotion remained palpable. "But I do not wish for him to be given to me."

A clear, deliberate distinction, one she held as deeply significant.

Nerissa observed her daughter for a moment before offering a slight nod, as if recalibrating her perspective.

"I comprehend," she stated. "Then go and claim him yourself." Her tone reverted to its former unshakeable certainty, direct and unquestioning. "You possess sufficient strength for such a feat. And given your lineage... no one would dare impede you." It was the most obvious solution.

However, Celestia remained still.

"He is already married, Mother."

At this juncture, the atmosphere perceptibly changed.

For the first time during their exchange, a more pronounced shift occurred in Nerissa's expression. Her eyebrows lifted subtly, not drastically, but enough to indicate that this information had been unexpected. "Married?" she echoed. "When? And to whom?"

Celestia inclined her head slightly. "I do not know when," she admitted, her voice now softer, yet still measured. "But she is formidable." Her gaze drifted momentarily inward, recalling the encounter. "Her hair was the color of the deep ocean, dark blue... and she confronted me directly."

This revelation alone carried considerable weight.

"She engaged me in close combat," Celestia elaborated, her tone now laced with a nuanced complexity – perhaps respect, though she didn't explicitly name it. "Without my resorting to my bloodline abilities... and she did not yield."

This was no minor admission.

Nerissa listened intently, offering no interruption. Though her thoughts remained unspoken, a subtle flicker of recognition crossed her eyes, as if the description had sparked a potential conclusion, yet she refrained from vocalizing it. Her focus returned fully to her daughter, noting the emotion now more visibly expressed.

Then...

She disregarded the complication entirely.

"So what, if anything?" Nerissa declared, her tone regaining its characteristic unyielding pragmatism. "He is married?" She tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. "What of it?"

Celestia's eyes darted.

"Why the somberness?" Nerissa pressed, a faint edge entering her voice – not harsh, but firm, challenging the justification for hesitation itself. "If you desire something... you acquire it."

This had always been the established principle.

"That is the lesson I imparted to you."

There was no leniency, only adherence to a code.

Nerissa moved closer, diminishing the space between them until her presence felt almost overwhelming, not through coercion, but through sheer conviction. She leaned forward, lowering her voice, directing her words solely at Celestia, no longer intended for the ambient air.

"He is yours," she stated quietly. "Take him."

And then, drawing even nearer...

"Take him from her grasp."

The words, though not spoken loudly, possessed a sharp edge that sliced through hesitation, a dangerous clarity that allowed no space for moral qualms.

She mirrored her mother's movement, stopping immediately behind her, her focus locked in place. She waited, not with impatience, but with a heightened sense of anticipation, as if perceptive enough to know that whatever followed would eclipse anything that had previously transpired.

Nerissa positioned herself by the window, her gaze drifting upward towards the heavens where the moon resided in silent splendor, its luminescence cascading into the room with a pale, unwavering radiance. For a brief interval, she remained silent.

Then, she uttered a statement.

"If I declare the moon to be mine," Nerissa articulated, her tone tranquil and even, bordering on reflective, "then it shall be so."

She inclined her head, a subtle shift just enough for her eyes to fall upon Celestia once more. "And it shall belong to me and me alone."

There was an absence of arrogance in her declaration.

Only an unshakeable conviction.

Celestia offered no hesitation. "Yes, mother," she responded instantaneously, her voice firm and resolute, the certainty resonating with absolute authority. "If you decree it so... then none would dare to dispute your claim."

This was not mere flattery.

It was the pure, unadulterated truth as she perceived it.

Nerissa’s gaze held on her daughter for a fleeting moment before returning to the moonlight that permeated the chamber. With slow deliberation, she extended her hand into the soft glow, allowing the lunar radiance to bathe her skin. The subtle, silvery light spread across her palm, gentle yet irrefutable, touching her without impedance, without the need for consent.

"If it is my possession," Nerissa continued, her voice softening slightly, her attention captivated by the ethereal light upon her hand, "then its embrace should be confined to me."

Her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly, as though testing the ephemeral essence of the light. "And me exclusively."

"Correct?" She directed her query towards Celestia.

A pregnant pause ensued, not empty but heavy with unspoken meaning.

"However..." she mused softly, her gaze descending to the light illuminating her skin, "What is to be done about this moonlight that touches all indiscriminately?"

Celestia mirrored her mother's gesture instinctively, her own eyes drawn to her mother's outstretched hand, to the light that rested there so freely. Then, almost as an afterthought, she extended her own hand into the identical stream of moonlight.

It enveloped her as well.

Without bias.

Without favoritism.

Her fingers tightened minutely as she perceived the sensation, the implication of the action beginning to coalesce within her mind, not instantly, but with a steady, unfolding clarity.

She looked up, meeting her mother's gaze.

And for the first time since Nerissa had commenced speaking, she found herself unable to reply.

Because comprehension was dawning.

"There exist certain things," Nerissa stated gently, her tone now imbued with a profound gravity rather than mere softness, "that cannot be retained solely for oneself... regardless of the assertion of ownership."

Her gaze returned to Celestia, sharp and deliberate once more.

"Such as the moon."

Celestia's breathing steadied as her intellect grappled with the implications, the metaphor clicking into place with increasing coherence.

"But..." Nerissa interjected, her voice regaining a sharpened edge, "there are methods to alter this reality as well."

Her hand slowly receded from the ethereal light.

"One can obstruct others from accessing it," she explained. "You possess the ability to sequester it, rendering it inaccessible to anyone but yourself."

Her eyes narrowed subtly.

"Alternatively..."

"You can eliminate those who dare to reach for it."

These words were delivered with unflinching directness.

Celestia's gaze remained steadfast, unwavering.

She held her mother's eyes, fully comprehending the unspoken message, not as an abstract concept or a mere metaphor, but in its stark, literal meaning.

"The decision rests with you," Nerissa concluded, her voice steady and resolute. "Whether you permit your moon to remain a shared entity..."

"...Or not."

A profound silence descended between them, yet it was not a silence of uncertainty.

It was the quietude that follows profound understanding.

Celestia stood motionless, her hand still faintly touched by the moonlight, her fingers slowly curling inward as if attempting to grasp something intangible. Her expression remained composed, yet a subtle transformation was evident.

The hesitation had vanished.

In its stead

Something colder.

More resolute.

Her gaze ascended once more, meeting her mother's gaze directly, no longer seeking answers, no longer harboring questions.

And then

Nerissa took a step closer.

Just enough to completely fill the space between them with her presence.

She leaned forward slightly, her voice descending to a near-whisper, meticulously controlled and undeniably distinct.

"Eliminate them."

The words were starkly simple.

But their connotation

Was anything but.

Celestia did not immediately acknowledge those words; she was momentarily incapable. Her gaze instinctively lifted, as if drawn upward by the sheer gravity of what she had just heard, her pupils contracting, then widening again in a subtle, involuntary response; it was not ordinary shock, not the kind that prompted recoil or protest, but a deeper, more profound sensation that settled within her mind, refusing to be disregarded.

She remained motionless, her body still, her breathing deliberately controlled, though her thoughts were anything but placid. They swirled and reformed, reconstructing themselves around the single, unambiguous directive her mother had issued. This was no mere suggestion, nor advice softened by indecision; it was a definitive conclusion, now echoing in her mind, demanding comprehension rather than dismissal.

For a timeless interval, she simply stood, her expression unreadable, as if not merely hearing the words but absorbing them, imprinting them onto a deeper part of herself, a place where they could not be easily erased.

Nerissa observed her daughter for only a fleeting moment. She offered no interruption, no further prompting, no attempt to steer her along; she recognized that this internal transformation was a journey Celestia had to undertake alone.

Thus, with a subtle, almost contented curve gracing her lips, Nerissa straightened. She turned away with serene composure, her footsteps making barely a sound on the polished floor as she moved past her daughter. Her pace was unhurried, her presence as steadfast as ever, as if no momentous pronouncement had just been uttered. She did not glance back, for it was unnecessary.

"You must comprehend, Celestia," Nerissa stated as she walked, her voice a calm resonance that carried effortlessly through the chamber without strain. "Why individuals crave power... why they seek it, endure hardship for it, and sacrifice for it." Her tone was devoid of any lecturing quality, carrying only an irrefutable certainty, as if articulating a self-evident truth. "It is for this."

Her hand moved slightly at her side, not in grand gesticulation, but just enough to underscore her words. "Should you possess strength," she continued, "then that which you desire... that which you yearn for... transforms into something you are rightfully entitled to claim."

A brief pause ensued, not long enough to disrupt the cadence, but sufficient for the weight of her words to sink in.

"Because you have earned it."

A faint smile graced her features as she uttered this, small and controlled, yet undeniably present—a smile born not of warmth, but of unshakeable conviction.

Behind her, Celestia's immobility shattered.

"How did you manage?"

The question emerged softly, yet with piercing clarity. Her voice, though steady once more, now held a distinct undercurrent of searching curiosity. Celestia had turned, her gaze locked onto her mother's retreating back, her posture once again erect, but her eyes now sharper, intensely focused. "With others... basking in your moon's radiance?"

At this, Nerissa abruptly halted.

Her movement ceased so fluidly, it appeared almost preordained, as if she had anticipated the very question. Slowly, she inclined her head, then turned her body until she faced her daughter once more. For a moment, her gaze simply rested upon Celestia, as if evaluating the necessity of the query.

Then, unexpectedly, a subtle grin touched Nerissa's lips.

"Why would I need to manage?" she inquired, her tone light, almost amused—not dismissive, but exuding a confidence that rendered the question itself seemingly absurd.

Her eyes now held a sharp, undeniable glint.

"The world is mine as well."

She spoke these words with simple finality.

As a statement of fact.

"Why would I destroy something... that already belongs to me?"

The grin widened infinitesimally—not exaggerated, but sufficient to convey a dangerous undercurrent beneath its composed facade, hinting not at malice, but at a perspective so absolute it allowed for little dissent.

Celestia felt it.

That subtle shift.

And the dawning realization.

It arrived not merely as comprehension, but accompanied by a faint, involuntary tremor deep within her, a minute clenching in her chest, a fleeting chill that coursed through her despite her practiced control. For the first time, she perceived—not just heard, but truly grasped—the sheer magnitude of her mother's mindset. It transcended mere dominance or authority; it was a worldview where ownership extended beyond possession into the very fabric of existence.

And for a poignant instant,

Celestia understood she had previously perceived only a fragment of its true scope.

Yet, even as this profound realization settled, another sensation followed.

A knowing smile bloomed on her lips.

"I understand now," she murmured softly, her voice regaining its steadiness, her eyes no longer clouded but clear and intensely focused, as if an inner alignment had occurred. A certain danger still lingered within that clarity, a hint of unresolved complexity, but it did not impede her...