I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space - Chapter 445: The Proclamation of Kingship

“Did you mean it?” Nyssa asked, the question coming quieter this time, stripped of the sharp edge it had carried before, yet heavier for it. It wasn’t suspicion anymore not entirely. It was something closer to confirmation… or perhaps a final test.

Her eyes held his steadily, searching not just for words, but for intent, for any fracture beneath the surface.

Razeal turned his gaze to her without hurry, meeting her eyes directly, and then almost faintly a smirk touched his lips.

“I do,” he said. No elaboration. No reinforcement. Just that. Simple. Certain. And for some reason, that simplicity carried more weight than any grand declaration could have.

Nyssa watched him for a moment longer, and something in her expression softened not weakness, not surrender, but recognition. She didn’t know why he was doing this. She didn’t know what drove him, or whether he truly had the means to face what was coming. But in this moment… it didn’t matter. He is willing to stand when none of us can guarantee survival. And that alone… deserved respect.

“Then good,” she said at last, her voice steadier now, quieter but resolute. “Win this war or not… but if you truly fight for this kingdom…” she paused, the meaning settling before she finished, “…then I will be the first to recognise you as its king. Even if we both fall in the process.” It wasn’t a promise of survival. It wasn’t a bargain. It was something far more grounded acknowledgment of merit, of action, of sacrifice. Her gaze did not waver as she continued.

“And as of now… I would want you to become one.” A subtle shift in her tone. “Because a kingdom must exist before it can have a king… so make that happen.” There was no challenge in her words only clarity. Whoever could ensure that existence… had the right to stand above it.

Around the table, the others responded in their own ways. Kael gave a short, firm nod, his jaw still tight, but his stance no longer oppositional this, at least, was something he could stand behind. Maeron remained composed, though his eyes reflected agreement, quiet but definite. Halvek shifted in his seat, uneasy but compliant.

And Grace… Grace lowered her gaze again, though this time it wasn’t from confusion. It was acceptance reluctant, painful, but real. This is no longer about ruling, she thought, her fingers tightening slightly in her lap. It’s about whether the kingdom survives at all. Pride had already slipped from her grasp the moment the truth became undeniable. If someone could protect what she could not… did she even have the right to oppose it? Her eyes lifted slightly, just enough to look at him again, and for a moment her reflection lingered in his faint, wavering. There was sadness there. And something else. Respect? Perhaps. She couldn’t be sure. But she knew this much he had stepped forward when she could not. And that… mattered.

“Alright then,” Razeal said, breaking the quiet without force, as if the matter had already been resolved in his mind. The simplicity of his tone contrasted sharply with the weight of everything that had just been decided.

And then

Shhkt~

The faint, metallic sound of steel sliding free cut through the room. He drew his sword in one smooth motion, the blade catching the dim light as it emerged, before lowering its tip to the ground with a soft, controlled tap.

Both hands came to rest on the hilt, his posture relaxed but grounded, and when he looked up again, there was something different in his eyes not aggression, not dominance, but… authority.

“From now on,” he said, his voice even, almost casual in delivery despite the meaning behind it.

“This kingdom is mine.” His crimson gaze flared faintly not explosively, not violently, but with a presence that settled over the room like pressure. It wasn’t enforced. It wasn’t demanded. It was… stated.

Though one knelt or moved.

No one accepted it aloud.

But no one denied it either this time

And that silence… carried its own meaning.

“Leave the war to me,” he continued, lifting the sword slightly before sliding it back into its sheath with a clean click. “This is my responsibility now.” A small nod followed more acknowledgment than farewell and then he turned, just like that, as if the discussion had reached its natural end.

No further words. No strategy. No coordination. Just… action. And he began to walk toward the exit.

For a second no one reacted.

Then the confusion hit.

Wait… that’s it?

Kael’s brows pulled together, his expression twisting into something between disbelief and irritation. Maeron blinked once, clearly not expecting such an abrupt conclusion. Halvek shifted again, more visibly this time. Even Nyssa’s composure faltered not outwardly, but enough that she stepped forward slightly, her voice cutting through the moment before he reached the door.

“Wait.” The word was not loud, but it carried enough to stop him.

Razeal paused mid-step.

Then turned his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder at her, his expression faintly puzzled not defensive, not guarded, just… questioning. Why stop me? The thought was almost visible in his gaze.

Nyssa held his eyes, her own narrowing just a fraction.

“Where are you going?” she asked, and though the question was simple, there was more behind it expectation, perhaps even a hint of disbelief. You declare responsibility… and then leave without a plan? Without coordination? Without even a discussion?

Razeal looked at her for a brief moment.

Then answered, as if the answer should have been obvious from the beginning.

“To the borders,” he said.

“To deal with the war.. Where else?”

And that was it.

No elaboration. No urgency. No theatrics.

Just a statement. As if everything else… was unnecessary.

For a brief moment after his answer, the room held still and then it changed. Not loudly, not visibly to an untrained eye, but the shift was there.

Every lord present stiffened, almost at once, as if a quiet realization had passed through them all together.

They had expected that answer. Of course they had. It was the most logical one. Go to the borders. Fight the war.?Yet hearing it stated so plainly so casually made it something else entirely. Real. Immediate. Alone? The thought formed first in Nyssa’s mind, and she did not hold it back.

Her eyes moved over him once, instinctively measuringheight, posture, stillness, that strange ease he carried as if trying to reconcile what she was seeing with what he had just implied.

“Alone?” She asked, unable to keep the note of disbelief from her voice. Not fear. Not doubt. Just… a sharp, incredulous edge. Was he truly saying that he would walk into a war against a Pillar Family force… by himself? Or even in anyones war? It was confusing for her.

Razeal didn’t seem to register the weight of her question. Or perhaps he did and simply didn’t care. His expression did not shift, his stance did not change.

“It is war,” he said, as if stating something obvious, something already decided long before this room had ever become part of it. His gaze moved across them briefly, then settled forward again. “Against my kingdom.” A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched his lips not quite a smile, not quite something else.

“And war against my kingdom… is war against me.” His eyes flickered then just for a moment but it was enough. Enough for something sharp, dangerous, and strangely alive to show through. There was excitement there. Not reckless. Not uncontrolled. But real.

Why does he look like that? Nyssa felt the thought before she could stop it. That glint in his eyes it didn’t belong to someone stepping into a losing battle. It belonged to someone… anticipating it.

“And this,” he added, almost thoughtfully, “is the first time someone is declaring war against me.” His voice lowered slightly, not in menace, but in something colder more personal. “So I want to make an fist example of it.”

The words settled.

And the room suddenly… fell silent again.

Not the same silence as before. This one was different. Heavier. Colder.

First example?

Nyssa’s brows drew together faintly, her thoughts catching on that single phrase. What does he even mean by that? But.. Before she could press further, before she could question him further he turned.

Just like that.

As if the matter had already ended.

Again.

Nyssa’s eyes widened slightly.

“Wait.. wait,” she called out quickly, stepping forward this time without hesitation. There was a faint urgency in her tone now not panic, not desperation, but something closer to necessity.

Razeal stopped again, slower this time, and turned his head just enough to look at her, the faint irritation already visible in his expression.

“What?” he asked, the annoyance in his voice no longer hidden.

Nyssa held his gaze, unbothered by the tone.

“At least tell us your name,” she said, more quietly this time, but with intent. There was curiosity in it, yes but not only that. Something more grounded. Practical. If he is going to walk into that war… and is going to stake everything on this… then they need to know who he is.

Like if he die out there… what do they even call the one who stood for them? It was a strange thought. A bitter one. But a real one.

Around the table, the others reacted similarly subtly, but clearly. Their attention sharpened. Even Kael, who had shown little interest in anything beyond strength and action, watched now. Maeron’s eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful. Grace lifted her gaze again, quietly, her expression unreadable but focused. They all wanted the same thing now.

A name?

Razeal silently looked at her… and then at all the lords. They all seemed to want to know his name too. He stayed silent for some seconds before deciding to finally give it.

“My name… is Razeal,” he said.

And suddenly… all the lords, and even the queen, felt a deep shiver run through their bones… down to their souls.

Because like who doesn’t know the name Razeal?

Well, not that others couldn’t share the same name… but with Maria Grave and Nancy Dragonwevr in the same room… it wasn’t far-fetched. Instinctively, the image of the Virelan son appeared in their minds… even though this man didn’t have purple eyes or hair.

Still… it was better to be certain.

They were all cautious. Given the ranks they held, they knew the names of all important figures across Empire and kingdoms.

And Razeal was… near the very top of that list.

Even though he was “just” the son of a powerful family… it was the Virelan family ranked second among the most dangerous.

But again… he hadn’t revealed his family name. He had only said “Razeal.”

Just to be sure, none of them reacted openly. Instead, the lords’ gazes slowly turned toward Nyssa.

He didn’t look like one of the Virelan… but they didn’t dare gamble on names. If he had given his full name, it would’ve cleared the doubt immediately… but he hadn’t.

And they simply couldn’t take that risk.

So they choose to just go for it..

“Are you…” Nyssa began, her voice quieter now, more careful than before not out of fear, but out of precision. “…by any chance… from the Virelan family?”

A pause.

Then, more clearly, “…Razeal Virelan?”

The question settled between them.

Sharp.

Deliberate.

And suddenly… everything felt like it was waiting for his answer.

At her question, Razeal did not answer immediately he simply looked at her, and then, faintly, he smiled. Not wide, not mocking, not even particularly expressive, but enough to shift the air again.

“I don’t go by that anymore,” he said, almost casually, as if it were a small clarification and nothing more.

But hardness at rejection at that name was clear.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then

A far deeper chill than before ran through the room. It wasn’t sharp like fear, nor sudden like shock. It was slow. Heavy. Settling into bone and thought alike.

Anymore?

The word echoed in every mind at once.

What does that even mean?

Did he just confirm it? Did he deny it? No.. he didn’t deny it. He didn’t reject it. He just corrected her.

Nyssa’s pupils narrowed, her gaze tightening as she studied him more carefully now not as a stranger, not as a bold Great Saint making impossible claims but as something else entirely. Something they had only heard about. Something that existed in fragments of reports, rumors, and contradictions that never quite aligned into one clean truth.

Around the table, the other lords reacted in their own ways subtle, but undeniable. Kael’s jaw clenched, not in anger this time, but in something far less comfortable. Maeron’s fingers tightened slightly against the table, his mind already moving, piecing together implications faster than he liked. Halvek’s breathing grew heavier, almost imperceptibly. And Grace…

Grace simply stared.

Because who didn’t know that name?

Razeal Virelan.

Even stripped of title, even separated from family, even reduced to rumor.. no one in their position could pretend ignorance. Not with the kind of chaos attached to it. Nor with the kind of trail it left behind.

The son of the Virelan family one of the most dangerous bloodlines in existence. The one who had been accused of defiling the saintess… and yet had not been executed. Not imprisoned. Not erased.

He had vanished. Escaped. From the Empire itself. From his own family. From a world that had been actively searching for him for five years and still failed.

The one who had reappeared in the academy as if nothing had happened.

The one who had struck the heir of Dragonwevr.. on face and still lived.

The one who had went though the Holy duel and come out of it alive.

The one who had stood against the heiress of Faerelith in direct combat… and survived.

The one who had been attacked not one but three dukes acting together and still somehow escaped.. And survived.

The one who had openly disrespected the Imperial Princess.. Even the Nova virelan openly and yet continued to exist afterward, as if the consequences that should have followed simply… didn’t apply to him.

The only person to ever escape Eternal Hold.

Eternal Hold.

Even the name itself carried weight. A place no one returned from. A place designed precisely so that no one could return from.

That abyssal prison where the world’s most dangerous and powerful criminals were entombed for eternity, their screams swallowed by wards older than some kingdoms. No one escaped the Eternal Hold. No one. Until him. And still, he had not been found. Not until this moment, standing here in the heart of the kingdom.

Everyone present had already received the wild, shocking news about this man. Now, seeing him in person, it finally made sense why he looked the way he did. The reports had said that, out of sheer arrogance, he had cut out his own bloodline and thrown it away.. gifting it to Duchess Arabella as promised even though he had already won the duel.

He had become the first person in history to willingly sever his own bloodline.

One after another, the sensational headlines resurfaced in the minds of everyone present, painting a picture of the terrifying capabilities of the man now standing before them.

Nyssa’s gaze lingered on him longer than the others. Not out of fear. Not out of doubt. But out of something closer to recalibration. She had thought she was dealing with a maybe powerful outsider. Then a dangerous one.

Now she wasn’t sure what category he even belonged to.

Wait.. wasn’t he just a 16 years old? but the main standing in front of him is GreatSaint??? She suddenly remembered this as her eyes constrasted again..

And Razeal? He didn’t react to any of it.

He remained silent as well as showed no reaction.

Instead, he simply spoke.

“Viper.”

The next moment, a man in a black assassin outfit appeared out of nowhere in front of him, dropping to one knee. “Yes, Master.”

The already shocked lords turned their eyes toward the sudden figure, their expressions tightening further at the clean, effortless appearance.

Visibly flinched. Not from fear of attack but from the sheer impossibility of what they had just witnessed. Even Kael’s eyes widened slightly before he forced them back into control. When did he..? None of them had sensed him. Not a trace. Not a fluctuation. Nothing.

“All assassin units will be under your command for now,” Razeal said calmly. “Clean any dangerous elements inside this kingdom. I don’t want any disturbances, and I don’t want any harm to reach the people of my kingdom.”

His gaze shifted slightly toward Maeron Thale.

“And take information from him,” he continued, indicating him with a glance. “Get a full list of factions, families, individuals anyone dangerous or harmful for this kingdom to keep.”

There was no pause in his tone as he finished.

“Remove them from my land.”

A brief silence followed before he added,

“No matter what faction or power they belong to.”

“Yes, Master.”

Viper lowered his head in acknowledgment and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared.

And with that, the presence of the other nine Great Saints also faded from the area, their auras vanishing as they moved to carry out the order.

The shift was immediate.

The lords’ eyes trembled as they processed what they had just witnessed not just the command, but how naturally it had been given, and how absolutely it had been accepted.

Nyssa’s gaze slowly lifted, settling on Razeal’s back, her expression no longer just tense but deeply unsettled.

——