I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space Chapter 508: The Reason?

It was World Regent Lucian.

The Continental Commander.

Out of every World Regent seated around the ancient table, he alone had not placed his hand upon it. Even though the vote had already been decided and more than enough hands had already accepted the creation of the Fifteenth Throne, Lucian remained sitting exactly as before. His large battle-worn figure didn’t move an inch, his scarred face carrying the same serious expression without the slightest hesitation or uncertainty.

He simply continued looking toward Nerrisa as though the result of the vote itself meant very little until he personally understood the reason behind her decision. The moment everyone realized whose hand was still missing, the eyes of the entire Sovereign Hall naturally followed him. Nerrisa looked at him with the same calm smile resting upon her beautiful face, while one after another the remaining World Regents also shifted their attention toward the Continental Commander.

Surprisingly, very few of them looked surprised. Instead, several wore faint amused smiles, while others simply sighed inside their hearts as if this outcome had been obvious from the very beginning.

Behind Lucian stood his two followers, and the moment they noticed that their commander still hadn’t moved, both of them sighed almost at the exact same time. It wasn’t the sigh of surprise. It was the sigh of people who had already expected this to happen the moment Lucian had remained silent after the vote.

The tall woman standing behind him slowly lifted one gauntleted hand before placing it over her face, closing her gray eyes for a brief moment in complete exasperation. She looked genuinely tired, as though she had experienced this exact situation hundreds of times already.

her expression almost seemed to say without speaking a single word. She was a tall woman wearing severe silver-white armor that had clearly survived countless battles. Every plate carried scratches, dents and marks that had never been polished away, almost as though each scar upon the armor represented another battlefield she had survived. Her face was beautiful but stern, carrying an almost permanent cold expression that made her appear difficult to approach. Long light golden hair rested behind her shoulders while calm gray eyes reflected the discipline of someone who had spent an entire lifetime following only one banner.

In one gauntleted hand she firmly held a tattered white standard. The banner itself looked unbelievably old. Its once pure white cloth had become dirty from countless years of marching, stained by dust, dried blood and weather until its edges had long since begun to tear apart.

Yet despite its miserable appearance, nobody inside the Sovereign Hall underestimated it. Looking at it somehow gave the strange feeling that this wasn’t merely an old flag. It was history itself. It almost seemed as though she had been carrying that exact same banner ever since the very first day the White Standard had been formed, refusing to replace it no matter how old or damaged it became. At the center of the cloth rested a delicate yet strangely meaningful black heraldic sigil. At first glance it resembled a thorn-covered spearhead. Looking longer, it seemed like a twisted fleur-de-lis.

Yet somehow it also resembled fragments of a shattered black sun stretched apart before naturally forming into something similar to an ancient ice crystal. It was elegant, mysterious and strangely intimidating all at once. Standing beside her, Lucian’s other follower merely rubbed his forehead before letting out another helpless sigh. Neither of them looked surprised anymore. They simply looked exhausted, already knowing exactly what their commander was about to do and fully aware that once Lucian decided to ask something, nobody in the world could stop him.

And just as expected...

Their commander couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Several World Regents couldn’t help smiling faintly inside.

"Give me your strongest reason... for supporting him."

Lucian finally spoke, his deep voice spreading naturally throughout the Sovereign Hall as his serious eyes remained fixed upon Nerrisa. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation upon his face. No fear. No uncertainty. No intention of challenging her authority. He simply wanted the truth. He wanted to know exactly why the strongest person in the world had ignored centuries of tradition for the sake of a single young kid.

Even if his one disagreement changed absolutely nothing... even if everyone else had already accepted it... he still wouldn’t place his own hand upon the table until he heard an answer that satisfied him. In that regard, he truly wasn’t like the others. Many World Regents trusted Nerrisa’s judgment enough that they no longer needed explanations. Lucian, however, believed every important decision deserved to be understood, no matter who made it.

Nerrisa didn’t look dissatisfied in the slightest. Instead, she simply nodded her head gently, almost as though she had expected that exact question from him all along. Her platinum eyes calmly shifted toward Razeal before returning to Lucian. Then, in the same soft voice she had used throughout the entire meeting, she answered.

"It’s because... his sword can kill Cosmic Lords..."

She paused ever so slightly.

"...permanently."

The corner of her lips slowly curled upward into an almost mischievous smile.

And the moment those final words left her mouth...

It felt as though something invisible had exploded inside the Sovereign Hall.

Every single World Regent reacted.

Eyes widened.

Several unconsciously leaned forward.

One Regent’s fingers tightened against the armrest of his throne.

Another who was tapping his fingers on table paused his finger halfway this gime before stopping herself.

The calm atmosphere that had existed only a moment ago completely disappeared.

Among everyone present, the woman seated upon the pure white throne reacted the fastest. Her throne stood directly beside the throne crafted from that strange ash-black burnt material, yet unlike its dark neighbor, hers seemed to have been forged from an unknown white metal that looked neither like silver nor marble. It reflected almost no light, yet somehow carried its own quiet brilliance.

The instant Nerrisa finished speaking, the woman sharply turned her head toward Razeal. Her long pure white hair gently followed the movement while her pure white eyes narrowed instinctively. Those eyes were unlike ordinary human eyes. They resembled the eyes of an eternal phoenix itself, majestic, ancient and carrying a strange nobility that seemed almost divine. Yet she wasn’t truly looking at Razeal.

She was looking at the sword hanging quietly inside its sheath at his waist.

The reactions of the remaining World Regents weren’t much different.

Some hid their surprise better than others.

Some frowned deeply.

Some narrowed their eyes.

Some quietly released their senses without anyone noticing.

Yet despite their different personalities and different thoughts...

Every pair of eyes inside the Sovereign Hall eventually settled upon exactly the same place.

The sword.

Not Razeal himself.

His sword.

An uneasy silence slowly filled the hall.

Invisible waves of perception quietly spread from one World Regent after another as they carefully examined the weapon, trying to understand exactly what made it so special. They attempted to sense its aura, its history, its nature, its existence... anything that might explain Nerrisa’s unbelievable statement.

Yet no matter how carefully they observed it, the sword remained completely silent. It released no terrifying pressure, no divine aura, no ancient presence worthy of such a claim. It simply rested peacefully within its sheath like the most ordinary weapon in the world. That only made everyone even more curious.

Meanwhile, standing beneath all those gazes, Razeal instinctively lowered his own eyes toward the sword hanging at his waist.

"...Huh?"

His brows slowly frowned together.

For perhaps the first time since entering the Sovereign Hall, genuine confusion appeared on his face. He had expected countless possible reasons for why Nerrisa had personally invited him to join the World Council. Mostly because of his strength, future. His talent. His strange abilities. His potential and even what else screwd reason she might have. But never... not even once... had he imagined that the reason would be the sword hanging quietly at his waist. In fact, he himself had absolutely no idea that such a thing was even a thing.

Razeal quietly thought to himself as he continued looking at the countless expressions around the ancient table.

Even the World Regents, beings who stood at the absolute peak of the world, had reacted so strongly to those few words spoken by Nerrisa. Some had widened their eyes, others had fallen completely silent, while several continued staring at the sword hanging at his waist as though they had just witnessed something impossible.

he guessed inside his mind.

Before he could even ask the question himself, Villey’s calm voice naturally echoed inside his consciousness as though it had already understood what he wanted to know.

[Yes, Host. It is an extremely big deal. Killing a Cosmic Lord is considered impossible... except through a very small number of truly exceptional means.]

Razeal’s eyes narrowed slightly. The word itself caught his attention far more than anything else.

But.. Why? he calmly asked within his mind while outwardly his expression remained unchanged, still quietly standing beneath the gazes of every World Regent.

Villey answered just as calmly.

[Because upon reaching the rank of a Cosmic Lord... a person no longer remains merely a living being. They become beyond a Concept Manifestation. In simple words... they become a living embodiment of the fundamental law they have completely comprehended. Fire... Time... Space... Death... Life... Light... or whatver concept they have reached the end of becomes part of their very existence.] Villey’s voice remained steady as though explaining something everyone at that level naturally knew.

[And since.. Concepts themselves are primordial. They cannot be destroyed through ordinary means because they are part of the very structure of reality itself. Therefore, the one who completely becomes that concept also gains the same nature.] Razeal quietly listened without interrupting.

[That is why a Cosmic Lord cannot truly die. No matter what anyone does... no matter how powerful the attack... even if their body is destroyed countless times... they will continue to exist so long as the concept they embody continues to exist. The only possible methods are either to erase that fundamental law from existence... which would require reality itself to collapse... or to completely separate that concept from the individual... which is essentially just another impossible task. Because of that... every Cosmic Lord is considered eternally immortal. From the moment they reach that realm... death itself becomes something almost impossible until the very end of the universe.] Villey’s explanation ended as calmly as it had begun.

Razeal remained silent, but deep inside his thoughts quietly moved.

Finallt he truly understood why even these World Regents had looked so shaken after hearing Nerrisa’s words. It wasn’t simply because the sword was powerful which he already knew. But It was because if what she claimed was true... then that sword violated something everyone believed to be absolute.

Outside, however, only a few seconds had actually passed. The silence inside the Sovereign Hall remained heavy, every World Regent still staring either at Razeal or the sword resting quietly at his waist. No one rushed to speak. Some continued thinking. Others seemed to be weighing countless possibilities inside their minds.

Finally, Lucian’s calm voice broke the silence once again.

"Is that... truly true?" he asked while looking directly toward Nerrisa. His tone remained exactly the same as before. Serious. Calm. Honest. He wasn’t questioning her because he doubted her intelligence. He simply wanted certainty. He wanted to know whether she had truly reached that conclusion or whether there was still room for doubt.

After all, the meaning behind those words was simply too great.

Nerrisa looked back at him without the slightest hesitation before giving a small shrug of her shoulders, her gentle smile widening ever so slightly.

"I am about seventy percent sure that he can," she answered softly.

"The remaining certainty will only come when it is proven in practice." She spoke as though discussing something perfectly ordinary, yet the words only made the atmosphere inside the hall grow even heavier.

Every World Regent knew Nerrisa better than almost anyone else alive. She wasn’t someone who casually made guesses. She rarely spoke unless she had already reached a conclusion. If she herself admitted to being seventy percent confident... then everyone present understood exactly what that truly meant.

In their minds, that wasn’t merely seventy percent. It was much higher. Perhaps ninety. Perhaps even more. None of them believed she would ever speak so confidently without overwhelming reason. Because of that realization, the expressions around the table gradually changed once more. Some lowered their eyes into deep thought. Others quietly folded their arms. One Regent slowly tapped the armrest of his throne while thinking. Another simply stared at the sword without blinking. The hall once again fell into complete silence, but this silence was different. It wasn’t confusion anymore. It was contemplation. Every one of them was thinking about the same thing.

Then...

Lucian slowly rose from his throne.

The movement was calm.

Unhurried.

Yet the moment he stood, every eye inside the Sovereign Hall naturally followed him once again. His broad shoulders seemed even larger while standing, his towering figure reaching nearly six and a half feet in height. Years of warfare had shaped his body into something resembling an unbreakable fortress. He didn’t release any aura. He didn’t intentionally pressure anyone.

Yet merely watching him slowly walk around the enormous table created an invisible heaviness inside the hall. His heavy boots echoed softly across the ancient floor as he calmly approached Razeal one step after another. No one interrupted him. No one tried to stop him. Even his two followers simply watched with tired expressions, already knowing there was no changing their commander’s mind once he had decided to see something through himself. Step... step... step... Lucian finally stopped directly before Razeal.

The difference in their height became immediately obvious. Standing so close, Lucian looked almost like a mountain. Broad shoulders, battle-scarred armor and decades of experience naturally gave him an overwhelming presence even without releasing a single trace of power. Barely half an arm’s length separated the two of them now.

Lucian calmly looked down into Razeal’s crimson eyes.

Razeal calmly looked back up into Lucian’s.

Neither of them blinked.

Neither looked away.

The entire Sovereign Hall quietly watched the two standing face to face.

After several seconds...

Lucian finally spoke.

"...Then..."

He paused briefly, his expression never changing.

"...What if... I simply take that sword from him?"

The question fell into the silence of the Sovereign Hall, and for a brief moment, not a single sound followed. Every pair of eyes instantly shifted between Lucian, Razeal, and the sword resting silently within its sheath, waiting to see who would answer first.

——