SSS Ranked Awakening: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 500: Outside World—4

The answer came from Seraphine.

"Two thousand three hundred and forty-five."

A flicker of something close to shock crossed Ira’s face before she could fully contain it. She’d been keeping a rough track during the fighting, but the chaos of two hours of unrestricted combat made precise counting difficult. Hearing Seraphine’s number land that specifically made her stomach drop slightly.

She needed to beat that number by a margin of at least ten to win the bet. That had been the agreed condition. She ran her own count through her memory one more time, cross-checking it against the rate she’d been moving and the positions she’d covered.

Seraphine caught the change in her expression immediately — the slight widening of the eyes, the fractional pause before composure reasserted itself. She leaned into it.

"How many did you get?" she asked, the question coming out with just enough eagerness to suggest she already suspected something interesting.

Ira answered, her voice carrying a note of defeat she was working to suppress.

"Two thousand three hundred and fifty four."

She’d beaten Seraphine’s count. But only by nine. One short of the margin is the bet required. If she’d been fractionally faster on two more kills — if she hadn’t spent those extra seconds on the cluster of Ascendant-ranks near the eastern flank — she’d have cleared it.

The frustration sat in her chest like a small, hot coal.

What she’d lost in the bet’s conditions was her next turn — the intimate session that was technically hers by the arrangement she and Seraphine had developed. Last time had been Seraphine’s turn, and Ira had found herself in the supporting role, being guided through things that were admittedly more educational than she’d expected and that she definitely didn’t hate as much as she’d prepared herself to. Leon had been involved, which made everything better by default. She’d learned some things she filed away with genuine interest.

But it was still Seraphine’s arrangement, Seraphine’s direction, with the accompanying dynamic that included the big sis Sera role being performed at specific moments in a way that was embarrassing in a way Ira couldn’t fully explain because she didn’t entirely dislike it, which made it worse somehow.

Her turn should have been hers alone. Just her and Leon, her terms, her pace. She’d been looking forward to it.

Instead, she’d be walking into it the same way again because she’d been one kill short of a margin she could have cleared if she’d just moved slightly faster in that one pocket.

She looked at Seraphine with the expression of someone accepting a loss that genuinely stung.

"You won this time," she said. "But it will be the only time."

Seraphine’s expression flickered.

Just briefly — a millisecond of something moving across her face that didn’t quite match the confident composure she was wearing. A small recalculation is happening behind her eyes.

Then it smoothed back to normal, and she was composed again, completely.

she thought privately.

She’d been tracking the battle carefully, specifically watching for the Ascendant-rank beasts because she understood — from experience with how Ira operated — that Ira would naturally gravitate toward the stronger opponents. Which meant the stronger ones needed to be counted separately, weighted appropriately, because killing an Ascendant-rank beast was not equivalent to killing a Master-rank one.

She’d structured her own approach around that assumption, deliberately targeting the Ascendant ranks at every opportunity to close the gap she’d expected Ira to build with raw destructive power.

And Ira had just announced her total count as a flat number.

No differentiation. No weighting by rank. Just bodies.

Seraphine realized.

She stood with this information for approximately one second.

In that second, several things occurred to her. She could clarify the counting system. She could explain that Ascendant-ranks were supposed to count for more, that the actual merit-weighted outcome put Ira clearly ahead by a margin that wasn’t close. She could correct the misunderstanding right now and call it a draw or acknowledge the loss honestly.

Seraphine thought, with genuine fondness and absolutely no intention of acting on the generous impulse.

She reached over and patted Ira’s shoulder.

"It’s a pity," she said, her voice carrying just enough sympathy to be plausible. "You did well, though. Better next time."

Ira accepted this with the dignity of someone who had lost fairly and wasn’t going to make it anyone else’s problem. The fire returned to her eyes within moments — that characteristic Ira quality of processing defeat by immediately converting it into fuel. She wasn’t sulky for long. She was competitive in the direction of forward rather than backward, and losing just sharpened her focus.

she thought, the flame in her chest burning clean and steady.

Up in the air above the battlefield, Archon Vyra had one hand pressed against her face.

She’d followed the exchange with the full awareness of someone who had been leading and assessing people for centuries, and the specific mathematics of what had just happened were not lost on her. Her niece had won by any reasonable accounting, had announced her total with the straightforward honesty of someone who didn’t consider the possibility that the numbers weren’t being evaluated the same way, and had accepted a loss she hadn’t actually taken.

Vyra thought, with exasperation that was entirely affectionate underneath.

She looked at Leon beside her.

Leon was watching quietly, arms at his sides, expression carrying the particular quality of someone who had noticed everything and was choosing not to intervene.

She understood immediately why. They were lovers — Seraphine and Ira both — and stepping into a dynamic between them that was clearly working itself out through its own natural process would have been awkward regardless of the outcome. He had his line, and an apparent friendly manipulation overkill; counting didn’t cross it.

Vyra kept her silence too, for the same reason. But she was going to find time alone with her niece later, away from everyone, and she was going to explain some things. Being straightforward was a virtue. Being this straightforward in a competitive situation with someone as tactically intelligent as Seraphine was a liability that needed addressing.

she thought.

Their auras retracted as the competitive energy between them settled into something more ambient. The soldiers around the perimeter remained at a respectful distance — the combined presence of two sage-realm fighters who’d just spent two hours fighting at full capacity was not something that invited casual approach.

The seven supreme leaders of the Middle Domain had convened in a loose cluster some distance away, and the quality of their discussion was clearly reaching a decision point. The gratitude for what had just been done was genuine — this was the second attack, and without intervention, the outcome would have been significantly different. The church had warned them this was coming, and they’d been prepared as well as they could be, and it still hadn’t been enough.

They needed to approach. They needed to express what needed to be expressed and establish whatever contact might help with whatever was coming next.

All seven began moving forward together.

Isabella, the seventh supreme leader, whose recently leaked appearance had turned into a significant public event, walked with them.

She had no vote in this. The group had decided, and the decision was collective, and she had no standing to simply refuse because the purple-haired woman made her nervous, and the red-haired one looked like additional trouble.

She kept herself toward the back of the seven. Positioned carefully. Not obviously hiding but not obviously presenting herself either.

The moment all seven of them came to a stop in front of Seraphine and Ira, Ira’s chest was already slightly puffed out — internally ready for the gratitude she absolutely deserved and had no intention of pretending she didn’t.

Seraphine’s eyes moved across the assembled group as they arrived.

Then stopped.

She found the figure at the back with the immediate precision of someone whose attention had been caught by something specific, and her expression shifted into recognition before anyone had said a word.

"Oh," she said. "Little Isabella. You’re here too."