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

Chapter 497 - 1 Report

Three Days Later.

Inside the throne room of the royal castle of the Denvaar Kingdom, the air was quiet and heavy, carrying the strange stillness of a kingdom that had gone through too much in far too little time.

The great hall had already been cleaned after the recent chaos, but signs of change were still everywhere. Old religious symbols that had once been carved into the pillars had been removed under Razeal’s orders, leaving pale marks upon the dark stone where they had stood for generations. The long banners of the previous royal family had also been taken down, replaced by plain dark cloth for now until Razeal decided whatever symbol his reign would carry. Soldiers stood in perfect rows along both sides of the throne room, their armor polished and their weapons held upright, but even they seemed quieter than usual. None of them spoke. None of them moved more than necessary.

Everyone inside the hall understood that the kingdom was passing through a dangerous moment. The temples had fallen. The churches had been emptied. Priests had either surrendered their positions, fled, or tried to resist. The public had been given two days to choose between remaining under Razeal’s law or leaving the kingdom, and those two days had already passed. Now the reports from every city, village, border settlement, and noble territory were finally beginning to reach the capital.

Razeal sat upon the highest raised platform at the far end of the hall, his body resting against the large golden throne that had once belonged to the rulers before him. The throne was built tall and wide, covered with carved lions, swords, and old royal symbols, though Razeal looked almost uninterested in all of it. He sat with one leg resting over the other, one arm placed casually along the side of the throne while his crimson eyes looked down toward the woman standing below. His long silver hair fell loosely around his shoulders, now clean of the blood that had covered it during the crowning ceremony, though the memory of that day still remained fresh inside the minds of everyone present. The blood-covered crown. The dead archbishop. The declaration against the gods. No one who had witnessed it could forget it so easily.

Yet Razeal himself appeared calm, almost bored, as though declaring war against an entire religion had merely been one unpleasant task among many.

Standing several steps below the throne was Lady Nyssa Veyra Sol, the current head of House Veyra, one of the five great houses of the Denvaar Kingdom.

She wore her usual long black dress, a single piece of dark fabric that covered her from shoulders to ankles without any bright decoration. It suited her well. The dress was elegant but severe, matching the calm and controlled expression she carried. In one hand, she held a thick report book filled with messages sent from governors, city commanders, village heads, noble estates, military posts, and border officials. Small pieces of paper had been placed between many pages, marking important reports she might need to explain in greater detail.

Lady Veyra had been speaking for some time already, listing what had happened across the kingdom during the last three days. Razeal had listened without interrupting much, though the more she spoke, the more a faint sign of surprise appeared in his eyes.

"So what you are saying is that there has been no major rebellion anywhere in the kingdom?" Razeal finally asked. His brows raised slightly as he looked down at her. He sounded genuinely surprised, which was rare enough by itself. He had expected something larger. After what he had done, he had assumed at least one of the great houses would secretly gather forces, some ambitious lord would announce a holy war, or a large group of believers would rise together and choose death over obedience.

He had expected coups, assassinations, public riots, perhaps entire cities refusing to lower their temple banners. He had prepared for all of it. In his mind, people were often foolish enough to sacrifice everything for faith, especially when priests and nobles pushed them in that direction. Yet three days had passed, and the kingdom had not exploded. Perhaps they were not as stupid as he had expected after all.

Lady Veyra lifted her eyes from the report book and met his gaze. She gave a small nod before answering.

"Yes, Your Majesty. There has been no large and organized rebellion so far." Her voice remained steady and respectful, carefully measured in the way of someone used to speaking before powerful rulers.

"However, there is still considerable disturbance throughout the kingdom. It has not formed into a proper rebellion, but some of the civilians are deeply dissatisfied after the destruction of the churches, temples, shrines, and holy places under your order." She turned one page in the report book and briefly glanced at the written lines before continuing.

"There were several small incidents in different cities and towns. People gathered in anger. Some tried to stop the destruction. Others shouted against the crown or refused to remove religious symbols from public places. But the city watches, local guards, and soldiers loyal to the crown acted quickly. Most incidents were calmed before they could become serious." She paused for a moment, studying Razeal’s expression before adding,

"At present, everything remains under control. The majority of the public has confirmed obedience and accepted the new law, at least openly."

"Really?" Razeal leaned back slightly against the throne, looking more interested now.

"Then it is going quite well, is it not?" There was real astonishment in his voice, as though he had expected to hear about burning cities and rivers of blood but had instead been told that people were merely angry and complaining. From his point of view, that was almost a peaceful result.

Lady Veyra kept her expression calm, but inside her thoughts were far less respectful.

Of course they are obeying, she thought. They watched you kill the archbishop in front of them. They believe you will butcher their families if they resist. What exactly did you expect? That terrified farmers would gather pitchforks and march toward the royal castle?

The public was not calm because they had accepted Razeal’s beliefs. They were calm because they feared him. They had seen what he was capable of. They knew he had defeated an enemy who nearly destroyed the kingdom. They had watched him return the dead to life. They had heard him threaten any god who stepped upon his land.

Most ordinary people were not foolish enough to challenge a man like that openly, especially after he had given them only two days to leave.

Still, Lady Veyra kept every one of those words inside her heart. Her face showed nothing. She had survived in noble politics long enough to understand that honesty was not always the same as wisdom.

She lowered her head slightly.

"There has been no major backlash yet, Your Majesty," she said instead.

"But I would not say that everything is going well either." Razeal’s eyes narrowed faintly with interest. Lady Veyra continued carefully.

"There were several problems, but most were just not significant enough to require a direct report to the throne. For now, I would describe the kingdom as being in a state of small and controlled turbulence. The public is unsettled. Many families are afraid. Some are angry. Some are secretly grieving the destruction of places that had been part of their lives for generations. But the greater factions have remained calm. The five great houses, the military commanders, the wealthy guilds, and the major noble territories have chosen not to make any move."

That last part mattered more than anything else. Ordinary riots could be suppressed. Angry crowds could be scattered. Priests could be arrested. But if one of the great houses decided to raise its army and call the war holy, the situation would become far more dangerous. The fact that all major factions had remained silent did not mean they supported Razeal. It meant they were watching him, judging his strength, and waiting to see whether someone else would be foolish enough to move first. Lady Veyra knew that many nobles were likely speaking in private, but none wanted to be the first to stand against a king who had already shown power beyond their understanding.

"Well, you can tell me about the smaller problems," Razeal said after a brief pause. He raised one eyebrow and shifted slightly upon the throne.

"I have nothing else to do at the moment anyways." His voice sounded casual, but Lady Veyra knew better than to mistake that for carelessness. Razeal might look bored, but every word she spoke could decide whether someone lived or died. Hes a crazy man with greater power then he should’ve had..

She tightened her fingers slightly around the report book before opening it to another marked page.

"Most of the disturbances were created by former priests, temple keepers, preachers, and religious servants," she explained.

"After they failed to protect the churches and temples, some of them began gathering people in streets, markets, and abandoned holy grounds. They tried to call larger crowds together and spoke of revenge. A few declared that resisting the crown was a sacred duty. Others attempted to name it a holy war." Her tone remained neutral, but she watched Razeal carefully from beneath lowered lashes.

"However, the guards acted before the gatherings became too large. The leaders were taken down.... Well.. and the people who followed them were separated and questioned. Those who had not committed violence were punished lightly, warned, and released."

She paused on the last word, making it slightly more meaningful than the rest. She wanted Razeal to understand that the people involved had been few in number. Frightened civilians. Confused believers. Not soldiers. Not trained rebels. She did not want him to respond by ordering mass executions simply because some desperate priests had shouted in the streets. The two-day period he had given the kingdom had already passed, and he had been very clear about what would happen to anyone who used religion to gather followers or challenge his authority. That was exactly why Lady Veyra was choosing every word with such care.

"They were very few," she added, her voice remaining calm.

"Most of the public did not join them. In several places, citizens actually left the gatherings when the city watch arrived. Some even reported the preachers themselves. At this time, there is no sign that those incidents are connected to one another, nor is there evidence of a larger hidden organization behind them." She closed the report book slightly, though not fully.

"For now, they appear to be scattered reactions from people who lost their positions, influence, and purpose after the religious institutions were removed."

Razeal remained silent upon the throne, looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

Lady Veyra waited, her posture straight and controlled, while inside she silently hoped he understood the unspoken warning inside her report. The kingdom had obeyed, yes, but obedience born from fear was not the same as loyalty. The public had not accepted his new world yet. They had simply lowered their heads because they believed lifting them might get those heads removed. The great houses were quiet, but quiet nobles were often more dangerous than loud ones. The priests had failed to create a holy war, but the anger they left behind had not vanished. It was only buried

"Those priests who tried to create rebellion were dealt with according to the seriousness of what they had done," Lady Nyssa Veyra Sol continued after a short pause, carefully watching Razeal’s face from below the throne. Her fingers tightened slightly around the report book in her hands as she prepared herself for whatever reaction might come next.

"Some were immediately beheaded. Some have been imprisoned. Others were expelled from the kingdom after they agreed to surrender their positions and leave peacefully. A few disappeared before the soldiers arrived." Her voice remained calm and professional, but inside, she was far from calm. She knew very well that Razeal had not spoken lightly during the coronation. He had publicly declared that anyone who gathered followers, preached rebellion, or challenged his authority in the name of a god would face extreme consequences. He had even said that after the two days were over, there would be no warning.

Yet the soldiers, guards, and city watches across the kingdom had not followed those words in the harshest possible way. They had killed some, yes, especially those who had attacked soldiers, gathered weapons, or tried to force crowds into open rebellion, but they had not slaughtered every priest or believer who resisted. Some had been beaten and imprisoned. Some had been warned and released. Some had simply been pushed across the borders after surrendering. The soldiers were still human. Many of them had prayed in those same temples since childhood. Some had relatives who were priests, temple keepers, or believers. Even when they obeyed the king, punishing people from their own cities and villages was not easy.

In truth, the fact that the armies and city watches were following Razeal’s administration at all showed how loyal and disciplined they were. They had placed the crown’s command above their own faith, even while clearly struggling with it. Nyssa only feared that Razeal might see their mercy as disobedience. He might decide the commanders had failed him. He might punish them for not killing everyone exactly as he had threatened. That thought was why she had carefully explained the reasons and differences behind each punishment, hoping he would understand that the guards had contained every disturbance without allowing the kingdom to drown in unnecessary blood.

Thankfully, Razeal did not appear angry. He did not question why some priests had been allowed to live, nor did he demand the names of the officers who had chosen imprisonment or exile instead of execution. His expression remained calm as he listened, one arm resting along the golden side of the throne while his crimson eyes stayed upon Nyssa.

He seemed to accept that the disturbances had been handled well enough, and the faint tension inside her shoulders loosened slightly. She did not allow the relief to show on her face, but inside, she silently thanked whatever remained of her luck.

Razeal was unpredictable enough already. At least at this moment, he did not seem interested in punishing the soldiers for showing restraint as what she had thought maybe he would.

"A few civilians making disturbances, hm?" Razeal said after a moment, leaning back against the throne again.

"What about the rest of the civilians? Most of them are doing nothing?" His tone held genuine curiosity, as though the behavior of ordinary people was something he was still trying to understand. Nyssa lowered her eyes briefly, considering the safest and most accurate way to answer. There were many words she could have used. Silent. Obedient. Shocked. Angry. But none of them described the situation as completely as one simple word.

"They are frightened, my king," she finally said.

"Of the priests?" Razeal asked, his brows drawing together slightly as though that was the most obvious answer.

Nyssa looked up at him. For the smallest moment, one of her eyes twitched. She could not tell whether he was truly confused or simply pretending not to understand, and somehow that made the question even more irritating. Still, her expression remained controlled.

"Of you," she answered plainly.

"Oh." Razeal slowly nodded as understanding appeared upon his face.

He ignored it..

"So they are not doing anything at all? They are simply accepting my law?" There was no anger in the question, only interest, and perhaps even a little satisfaction. Nyssa almost sighed but stopped herself. Accepting was not exactly the word she would have chosen.

"Yes and no," she replied, opening the report book again and turning to another marked page.

"Many civilians are leaving the kingdom. Families who have enough money, animals, wagons, or relatives beyond the borders are preparing to migrate. Most are doing so quietly. They are not gathering crowds or cursing the crown in public. They are simply selling what they can, packing their belongings, and moving toward neighboring territories." Her gaze moved briefly toward the throne room doors before returning to him.

"There are long lines near some border roads now. Merchants, former temple workers, deeply religious families, and even a few wealthy landowners have chosen to leave rather than live under the new law."

Razeal listened without interrupting, so Nyssa continued.

"As for those who cannot afford to leave, or those with large families, farms, shops, contracts, and generations of life tied to this land, most have chosen to remain silent for now. They stay inside their homes more than usual. Markets are quieter. Public gatherings have become smaller. People speak carefully because they are unsure who may report them. Many are simply waiting for the kingdom’s great changes to settle down." She closed the book slightly.

"Some believe that if they remain quiet long enough, the danger will pass. Others think you may soften the law later. And some are already trying to adapt. Those common people will likely not create disturbances in the future either. They have families to feed and work to protect. Most ordinary people do not want war. They will bend before they break, especially when they believe resistance will only bring death."

"I see," Razeal said. He gave a small nod. "That is good."

Nyssa nodded as well, though she did not fully agree with the way he said it. Fear might create silence, but silence was not loyalty. Still, for now, the kingdom had not collapsed, and that was more than she had expected three days ago. "What about the nobles and other important people in the kingdom?" Razeal suddenly asked.

"The noble houses are.." Nyssa began, preparing to explain the movements of the five great houses, the smaller lords, the merchant families, and the military leaders, but before she could continue, a loud sound came from behind her.

The massive doors of the throne room opened with a heavy groan, interrupting her words. Both Nyssa and Razeal immediately turned their attention toward the entrance. The soldiers standing along the walls straightened at once, their hands tightening around their weapons as the sudden arrival broke the stillness of the hall.

Viper walked through the doors first.

He wore his usual black assassin clothing, every part of his body covered except his eyes. His steps were silent, straight, and controlled, without the slightest hurry, yet there was something in the way he entered that immediately changed the atmosphere.

Viper did not come into the throne room without purpose. Behind him walked two other assassins dressed in nearly identical black outfits, though both were slightly shorter and narrower than him.

They moved with the same disciplined silence, one on each side of a restrained prisoner. The man between them appeared to be middle-aged, perhaps somewhere in his forties, with long yellow hair falling messily around his face and shoulders. His hands had been bound behind him, and each assassin held one of his arms tightly, leaving him no chance to pull away. His clothes were expensive but damaged, torn near one shoulder and covered in dust. There was dried blood along the side of his mouth, and one of his knees seemed injured, forcing him to stumble every few steps as the assassins dragged him forward.

Nyssa turned fully toward them. At first, she did not recognize the man. His face was partly hidden behind his fallen hair, and the poor condition of his clothing made it difficult to understand his position. But when the torchlight caught the long yellow strands more clearly, her expression changed. The calm look upon her face disappeared, replaced by immediate seriousness. A faint sense of dread settled inside her chest. Yellow hair of that shade was not common among the noble bloodlines of Denvaar. It was strongly connected to one particular lineage, one that had always carried influence far beyond what its public position suggested. Nyssa’s gaze narrowed as she tried to see the prisoner’s face more clearly. A bad feeling began growing inside her. Viper would not personally bring some ordinary criminal before the throne. The Black Mamba assassins had been placed across the kingdom by Razeal himself to patrol dangerous areas and interfere only if something truly serious happened. Their strength was far beyond normal soldiers. If three of them had been required to capture and restrain this man, then the situation was not small.

"Viper?" Razeal said from the throne. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward slightly, his earlier relaxed posture disappearing. His crimson eyes moved from the assassin to the prisoner. Razeal had assigned Viper and the rest of the Black Mamba team to patrol the kingdom for exactly this reason. With their Great Saint strength, they could reach dangerous locations quickly, suppress powerful nobles, stop hidden experts, and prevent any rebellion from growing beyond control.

Yet until now, none of them had appeared personally before him with a prisoner. For Viper to enter the royal throne room while Nyssa was giving her report and bring someone bound in front of the king meant one thing.

Something serious had happened.

Viper continued forward without answering immediately. The two assassins dragged the yellow-haired man across the long red carpet until they reached the open space before the throne. The prisoner tried to lift his head, but one of the assassins tightened his grip, forcing him down again.

"I found suspicious activity near the center of the capital," Viper reported as he walked past Lady Nyssa Veyra Sol, his steps silent even upon the polished stone floor of the throne room. He did not kneel this time. He stopped several steps away from the golden throne and looked up at Razeal with his usual unreadable expression, both hands loosely held behind his back as though bringing a captured Great Saint before the king was nothing especially important.

"A Great Saint at the early stage was hiding his aura and secretly moving closer toward the royal castle," he continued, tilting his head slightly toward the restrained man behind him.

"So I brought him here." Two steps behind Viper, Zero and Blitz forced the prisoner forward. Both assassins wore the same dark clothing as Viper, their bodies almost completely covered, leaving only their eyes visible beneath the cloth wrapped around their faces.

Zero stood on the man’s left while Blitz held his right arm. Their grips looked simple, almost relaxed, but the yellow-haired man could not move even a finger freely. Every time he tried to pull one arm away, their hands tightened only slightly, yet it was enough to make the muscles in his shoulders strain and his knees almost give way. He was not weak. The hidden pressure around his body clearly revealed the remains of Great Saint strength, but before the three assassins, he looked less like a powerful warrior and more like a criminal dragged from the street.

"Good," Razeal said with a small nod. His gaze briefly rested upon Viper before moving toward the restrained stranger. He leaned back against the golden throne once more, though his crimson eyes became more focused now. The man continued struggling between Zero and Blitz, twisting his arms and trying to force himself free, but it was completely useless. The two assassins did not even change their expressions.

Their hands remained around his arms like iron chains. The prisoner’s appearance made it clear that his capture had not been peaceful. One side of his face had swollen badly, turning dark red and blue from several heavy blows. Blood had dried beneath his nose and at the corner of his mouth, while one eye was partly closed from the bruising around it. His expensive armor was cracked near the chest and shoulder, and several pieces had been torn away entirely. His breathing came out rough and uneven, not only from anger but also from the punishment he had suffered before being dragged here.

Yet what impressed Razeal most was not the state of the prisoner. It was Viper. Razeal looked toward him from the corner of his eye. Viper stood loosely, his posture almost lazy, as though he had merely finished a normal walk through the capital. Capturing a Great Saint inside the very center of the city without creating a large explosion, damaging the streets, or drawing enough attention for even Razeal to notice was not easy.

A Great Saint could destroy entire buildings and kill hundreds of people within moments if allowed to release his strength. For Viper, Zero, and Blitz to restrain him before that could happen meant they had likely attacked and controlled him within seconds. Their precision was impressive.

"You are from the Rock family, are you not?" Razeal asked after studying the man for a few moments. He had already recognized several signs. The long yellow hair was the most obvious, but the shape of the damaged armor, the heavy shoulder guards, and the rough mountain-like patterns carved along its surface were all connected to the Rock family.

——