I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space

Chapter 454: The Kingdom’s Clenching



Chapter 454: The Kingdom’s Clenching



Denvaar Kingdom POV


Tonight, under the dim, cold wash of the dark moon, the hidden layers of the kingdom were being stripped apart.


Dozens of factions that had long operated in the shadows corrupt houses, covert networks, quiet power brokers were shaken to their core. Before most of them could even understand what was happening, figures dressed in black were already among them. The work was precise and absolute. No warnings. No negotiations. By the time it ended, only blood remained thick, spreading across stone floors, pooling beneath bodies that would never be found by those who once relied on them. Entire groups erased in silence, as if they had never existed at all.


At the peak of a tall castle tower, Viper stood alone, looking down over the sleeping capital. The wind tugged faintly at the edges of his cloak, but he did not move. In his hand was a list seventeen names written in clean, deliberate strokes. Fourteen had already been crossed out.


He lifted the pen and marked the fifteenth.


Only three factions left, he noted calmly. After that, just the smaller gangs and bandits.


Those were already being handled. Blitz and Dagger had been dispatched earlier, tasked with clearing out the outskirts systematically removing the lesser groups that thrived beyond the capital’s reach.


While Inside the city, the operation was tighter.


Five teams moved in coordination. Three of them worked in the dark, tracking down factions even the kingdom itself had failed to identify, dismantling them while extracting whatever information they could. Viper and Fang, as the leading pair, focused only on the names provided the ones that mattered most. The list had come directly from the head of the Thale family obviously under Razeal’s orders.


In any other time, most of these groups would have remained untouched.


Not because they were unknown, but because they were inconvenient to remove.


Politics. Balance. Fear of retaliation. Each faction operated carefully, never crossing the line far enough to force the kingdom’s hand, always staying just within the boundaries of tolerance. Removing them would have caused more disruption than leaving them in place.


That logic no longer applied.


Razeal had no reason to preserve a system built on compromise. Half the world was already positioned against him anyways. Offending a few more factions meant nothing.


So the order was simple.


Erase them.


No hesitation. No negotiation.


The capital was being cleaned, one shadow at a time.


"This kingdom is filled with so much filth," Fang said from beside him, his voice low but edged with irritation. "I don’t understand how it was allowed to rot like this without anyone acting."


Viper didn’t look at him. His gaze remained on the city below.


"That’s the work we were given," he replied evenly. "So we finish it."


A faint pause followed.


"Let the ground drink what needs to be spilled."


His eyes cooled behind the mask.


Then he vanished.


Their next target was a hidden society buried beneath the city an underground market dealing in everything the surface refused to acknowledge. Slaves, forbidden goods, illicit trades. Nobles and high-ranking officials moved through it as customers, protected by anonymity and influence.


The entrance was deliberately unimpressive.


A small, forgettable shop tucked between larger establishments, its worn exterior drawing no attention. Beneath it, however, lay a spacious underground hall secured, concealed, and well-guarded.


Ten armed guards stood at the stairway leading down.


But.. They never saw the attack clearly.


Two figures stepped out of the dark.


By the time the guards reacted, their heads were already falling.


Steel never rang. No spells were cast. The motion was clean and efficient each strike placed with absolute precision. Heads rolled across the stone steps, leaving streaks of blood in their wake. A moment later, the bodies followed, collapsing with dull, heavy thuds.


Silence returned just as quickly.


Fang stepped forward without hesitation and drove his foot into the reinforced metal gate at the base of the stairway. Layers of protective magic flickered across its surface, reacting too late.


The impact tore through it.


The metal bent inward with a violent crunch before ripping free entirely, thrown off its hinges and sent crashing deep into the chamber beyond.


Against even a normal Saint, such defenses were meaningless.


Magic below that threshold was nothing more than delay.


The sound echoed through the underground hall, drawing attention immediately. Conversations halted. Movement stilled. Dozens of eyes turned toward the entrance.


Viper walked in first.


His dark, fitted attire absorbed the light rather than reflecting it, his presence quiet yet oppressive.


The moment Viper stepped fully into the underground hall, the entire space seemed to contract around him.


It was not the kind of fear that came from noise or chaos. It was quieter than that, more instinctive. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Hands that had been moving over coin, over contracts, over flesh, froze where they were. Even those who did not understand what had happened at the entrance felt it immediately something was wrong.


The hall was wide and layered, built with care to resemble a marketplace rather than a den of crime. Stalls lined both sides, displaying goods that would never see the surface openly enchanted artifacts without records, poisons sealed in glass, documents, rare creatures kept in cages, and, further inside, people. Slaves stood restrained behind iron bars, some silent, some too tired to react, others staring blankly as if they had long since accepted where they were.


Every face in the hall was hidden.


Dark masks of different shapes and materials concealed identities. Some were simple cloth coverings, others crafted in metal or carved designs, reflecting status rather than necessity. Many stood with guards armed escorts positioned just behind or beside them, watching everything with trained caution.


And yet, none of it mattered.


Because whatever entered the hall had already broken the balance they relied on.


Fang stepped in a moment after Viper, rolling his shoulder once as if shaking off stiffness, his gaze sweeping lazily across the room. His expression carried no urgency, no tension only mild interest, as if he had walked into something beneath his concern.


"Messy place," he commented, almost amused.


Viper did not respond. He walked forward at the same steady pace, his presence drawing attention without effort. There was no need to raise his aura, no need to announce himself. The silence spreading through the hall did that for him.


A few guards were the first to move.


They stepped forward cautiously, weapons raised, trying to reassert control before panic could take hold. One of them spoke, voice sharp, attempting authority.


"You’re in the wrong place.."


But..


He didn’t finish.


Viper moved once.


There was no visible wind-up, no exaggerated motion. One moment he was standing still, the next he had passed through them. The guards froze for half a breath before their bodies gave out, collapsing where they stood, clean cuts marking the end of their movement. Blood spread quietly beneath them, dark against the stone.


The hall went silent.


People stepped back instead of forward. Guards repositioned instinctively, pulling closer to those they were assigned to protect. Some of the masked figures began retreating deeper into the hall, trying to create distance without drawing attention.


Then the shouting began.


"You can’t just.. do you know where you are?" one voice broke out, sharp with forced confidence. "This is protected territory!"


Another followed, louder, less controlled.


"Stop them! What are you waiting for?"


A younger voice cut through, strained and angry.


"Do something! Do you know who I am?"


Several figures pushed forward from the middle rows, their movements less controlled, more reactive. Unlike the others, they carried themselves with entitlement rather than caution. Their masks were more decorative, their clothing more refined. Behind them, guards moved quickly to close the distance.


"Are you deaf?" one of them snapped, pointing toward Viper. "I said do something!"


Viper didn’t slow.


He walked past them.


Not ignoring them out of arrogance, but because they were irrelevant.


The first of them lunged anyway, either out of panic or pride. His guard followed immediately, blade drawn, aura flaring.


Fang moved this time.


He stepped forward once and caught the incoming blade mid-motion, fingers closing around the steel as if it were no more than a stick. The guard’s expression changed too late. Fang twisted his wrist slightly, and the weapon snapped cleanly. The same motion carried through, his arm following into the guard’s chest with controlled force.


The body folded inward before hitting the ground.


Fang glanced at the broken blade in his hand, then let it fall.


"Too loud," he said, almost bored.


The young noble froze where he stood, whatever anger he had carried dissolving into something else entirely. He tried to speak again, but the words didn’t come out the same.


"You.. you can’t.. i.. i am.."


Fang didn’t even look at him when he moved again.


The strike was quick, efficient. The body dropped without ceremony.


The rest of them didn’t try again.


The realization spread through the hall in layers. These were not intruders to be negotiated with. Not enemies to be stalled or threatened.


They were here to just kill everyone.


From the deeper end of the chamber, movement shifted.


The crowd parted slightly as a figure stepped forward, escorted by multiple guards. His presence carried authority not the loud, insecure kind, but the practiced confidence of someone used to being obeyed.


His mask was more refined than the others, polished, deliberate. Even without seeing his face, the way he stood made his position clear.


"Enough."


The word carried across the hall, forcing attention back toward him.


He looked at Viper directly.


"You’ve made your point," he said, voice controlled. "But you’ve made a mistake."


A pause.


"I am the younger brother of Marven Krail, A renowned merchant of the imperial capital."


The name was not spoken loudly, but it didn’t need to be. It carried weight on its own.


"This place exists because it is allowed to exist," he continued. "Because removing it would cost more than tolerating it. You understand what that means."


"If even to my hair got touched this whole empire would disappear."


His tone sharpened slightly.


"So.. Walk away now, and this ends here. Continue... and you won’t just be making enemies of us."


Viper stopped.


For the first time since entering, he shifted his attention fully.


Not impressed or threatened.


Just acknowledging.


For a brief second, the hall held its breath.


Then Viper tilted his head slightly, as if considering something trivial.


"Finished?" he asked.


The man stiffened.


Fang let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh.


"That’s it?" he said. "I expected more."


At the shift in their attitude, the masked man’s expression hardened beneath the cover of his mask.


"Who sent you?" he demanded, voice controlled but edged now with tension.


He still had not fully understood what stood in front of him.


The guards around him had not been weak. Every one of them was at least B-rank, trained, equipped, and chosen carefully. The two closest to him his personal protectors were A-rank, assigned directly by his brother to ensure nothing in this place ever got out of control.


And yet some b rank protectors had fallen.


Not in a prolonged exchange. Not even in a proper fight.


They had simply... fallen.


His frown deepened as the realization began to form. Whoever these two were, they were beyond A-rank. That narrowed things, but it didn’t give him an answer. He tried to think quickly who would dare send someone like this into a place backed by imperial influence?


Viper didn’t respond.


He didn’t even acknowledge the question.


"Fang," Viper said calmly, without turning, his gaze already set forward. "Kill everyone inside this building. Leave the slaves. And leave this one."


His eyes rested briefly on the masked head.


"Ill deal with him personally."


Fang, who had been standing loosely to the side, paused mid-glance, his attention shifting back to Viper. For a moment, he didn’t move.


"Everyone?" Fang repeated, tilting his head slightly. His tone wasn’t resistant, just curious. "Some of them are just buyers. Visitors. There are nobles’ children here too."


His eyes moved across the hall, taking in the scattered figures, the shifting panic.


"You’re sure leader?" he added. "Cleaning them out completely will cause problems later. Some of them might not even be directly involved."


Viper continued walking.


"No one who comes here is innocent," he said, voice steady, without emphasis. "And problems are not our concern."


A brief pause.


"Our orders are simple. Clean the capital."


He didn’t look back.


"This is part of it. Do as I said."


That was the end of it.


Fang exhaled lightly through his nose, something faintly amused flickering beneath his mask.


"As you say, leader."


His stance shifted.


Then he was gone.


The head of the society felt it before he saw it the change in the air, the sudden absence of Fang from where he had been standing. His instincts tightened sharply.


"Stop him!" he shouted, his voice breaking through the hall. "Stop them both!"


If they ran, they would die one by one.


If they stayed, they might still die.


But together there was at least a chance.


The guards nearest to him hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Then they moved.


Both A-rank protectors stepped forward at once, their auras flaring fully, no longer holding back. Steel came out in clean arcs, blades cutting directly toward Viper as he approached, their timing precise, their intent clear.


Viper didn’t even slowed.


He didn’t raise his hand. He didn’t shift his posture.


He walked forward as if they weren’t there.


For a split second, it almost looked like the strikes would land.


Then, before the blades could reach him, something else moved.


A thin distortion cut through the space between them.


The guards didn’t even realize what had happened. Their momentum carried forward, but their bodies no longer followed as one. Armor split cleanly along unseen lines, metal parting without resistance. Flesh followed a heartbeat later.


Both of them came apart mid-step.


The pieces fell to the ground in heavy, uneven thuds.


Viper walked through them without breaking pace.


Behind him, Fang moved.


He didn’t rush in a straight line. He wove through the crowd, his path cutting through clusters of people, his movement controlled, almost casual. His blade flashed only in short, efficient motions nothing wasted, nothing exaggerated.


Where he passed, thin red lines appeared.


For a moment, nothing happened.


Then the blood followed.


Bodies dropped in sequence, as if delayed by a single breath. Some collapsed without sound. Others managed half-formed cries before they were cut short. The guards who tried to intercept him lasted slightly longer, their movements sharper, their reactions faster, but it didn’t change the outcome.


They fell the same way.


"Fools," Fang muttered under his breath, almost to himself, his tone carrying mild disappointment more than anger.


The hall broke completely now.


Panic spread in full.


People tried to run, pushing past each other, knocking over stalls, slipping on blood already spreading across the floor. Some turned toward hidden exits, others toward guards who were no longer standing. A few tried to fight anyway, driven more by fear than logic.


None of it mattered.


Fang moved through them without urgency, but without pause.


Every step ended someone.


The sound of bodies hitting stone, of metal dropping from lifeless hands, of short, cut-off screams it all blurred into a single, continuous background.


And through all of it, Viper continued forward.


"Who... who are you? Leave me I’ll pay you. I’ll pay anything. Ten times what anyone paid you. Just... just leave me alive. Please. I beg you."


The man’s voice broke apart as he spoke. He had already dropped to the ground without realizing it, hands scrambling against the blood-slick floor as he tried to pull himself back. Around him, the remains of his guards lay scattered in pieces, armor split open as easily as cloth, the smell of iron thick in the air.


Viper kept walking toward him.


No change in pace. No visible reaction.


"How much wealth do you have?" Viper asked, his tone flat, almost idle.


The question didn’t fit the situation.


That made it worse.


"I have... I have more than enough," the man stammered, nodding quickly, almost violently. His hands moved to his fingers, pulling off ring after ring space rings, each one carrying years of accumulated wealth, contracts, hidden reserves.


"Here.. take these. Take everything. I can give more. I’ll give more. Just.. just let me live."


He threw them forward in desperation. The rings slid across the floor, leaving thin streaks through the blood as they came to a stop near Viper’s feet.


Viper bent slightly and picked them up in one smooth motion.


No hurry. No greed.


He weighed them briefly in his palm, then slipped them away in his pocket.


"Alright then," he said. "Give me your wealth. I’ll see if it’s enough."


The man froze.


For a moment, his mind didn’t catch up.


"I... I just gave you everything," he said, voice shaking, confusion mixing with panic. "Those rings.. everything is in them. I’ll give you more if you want, just don’t.."


"Gave what?" Viper interrupted.


His tone didn’t change.


"I didn’t receive anything."


The man blinked, stunned.


"What... what do you mean?" he stammered. "I just gave you the rings. I threw them right.."


"Rings?" Viper repeated, as if the word itself didn’t register. "What Rings? I didn’t receive any rings."


For a brief second, the man’s mind went blank.


Then his eyes dropped to his own hands.


Empty. He had given them to this man.


The realization hit slowly.


Not confusion.


Not misunderstanding.


Mockery.


His breathing turned sharp.


"You..." His voice tightened, anger forcing its way through the fear. "You dare.."


His face twisted, red with something between panic and rage.


But viper didn’t seems to care.


"You dare lie to me?"


The words barely left his mouth as Viper stepped forward once more.


"Die.. you lying soul.." he said quietly.


There was no movement visible.


No drawn weapon.


The man’s body jerked.


Then split.


Clean, controlled lines cut across him in an instant, dividing him into sections before gravity took hold. The pieces fell apart where he sat, collapsing onto the blood-covered floor in silence.


It ended as quickly as it began.


Viper stood there for a moment, looking down at what remained.


Then he turned.


The hall behind him had gone still.


Completely still.


What had once been a crowded underground market was now nothing more than a slaughtered space blood covering the stone, bodies scattered without order, stalls overturned and abandoned. The air had changed. Heavy. Quiet.


Fang was already done.


He stood at the far end, blade lowered, posture relaxed again, as if nothing of effort had been required.


Viper reached into his pocket and pulled out the list.


He looked at it briefly.


Then crossed out another name.


"I hate killing and robbing people," he murmured, his tone carrying no weight behind the words, almost conversational. "But circumstances don’t leave much room if not.. i am not a bad person from heart."


He folded the paper and slipped it back into his pocket.


"Let’s move."


And without another glance at what was left behind, they left the hall the same way they had entered it quietly, as if nothing had happened.


——



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