I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space-Chapter 67: The Preserver

"Hey, friends! Long time no see, huh? Looks like your numbers have grown quite a bit."

The familiar voice made Razeal jolt in his seat. Almost.

He didn’t let it show on his face, though. He clenched his jaw, kept his mouth shut tight, and forced himself to stay still. He refused to let what happened last time happen again. The mere memory of it made his chest tighten how his mouth had spilled everything without control like someone had torn the dam open.

The truth domain of the gods, or whatever cursed thing Riven had used that day Razeal wanted nothing to do with it.

He turned his head slowly, warily, and of course...

There he was.

Riven stood beside his seat, leaning slightly, his face far too close for comfort, wearing that ever-gentle, ever-fake smile. His silver-white hair fell neatly around his sharp features, and his eyes sparkled with some kind of knowing amusement.

He even raised an eyebrow at Razeal, as if to say, "You look well."

Razeal narrowed his eyes.

He hadn’t even heard him approach. Not a single sound. No footsteps or even any heartbeat even now. Nothing.

’Great,’ he thought bitterly. ’Not even that S ranked skill able to help. How the hell am I supposed to defend myself from something like this?’

Still, he said nothing. Not a word.

He clamped his jaw shut, refusing to even twitch his lips. His eyes met Riven’s with cold annoyance before rolling slightly in irritation.

He didn’t dare say a single word to this damn god.

Who knew what would slip out if he did?

Still

These fucking gods can’t they mind their own damn business?

Why did Riven even bother to come talk to him? Hadn’t he already said that Razeal was his enemy? So what the hell was with the "Hey, friend!" and that stupid, plastic smile?

Razeal wanted to scream, to shove this hypocrisy right in his face. But instead, he just sighed inwardly, tightening his shoulders.

"Oho? Not even a word this time?" Riven said with a chuckle, acting like he was somehow hurt by the silence. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull any of that mind-messing stuff again. That last time well, that was necessary,"

He even added it in a calm, clarifying tone, like he was some honest man trying to fix a misunderstanding.

Razeal still didn’t respond.

Instead, he looked at Riven with narrowed eyes, then subtly gestured toward the rest of the class nearly every pair of eyes was now watching them. Razeal’s gaze said it all: Aren’t you worried about what they’ll think of you, talking to me?

He wanted nothing more than to be as far from this god as possible. Who knew what he could do just by talking?

Riven seemed to get the message. He smiled again, as if humored. "Yeah, you’re right," he said, then turned around casually. As he did, he noticed the stares the sharp glares, the judging eyes of the classroom.

But he didn’t care.

Without a second thought, he walked off like he had never even spoken to Razeal in the first place.

Razeal rolled his eyes again.

Why the hell do people call this god ’The Fool’? It should be ’The Dumbass’ or something that actually matches how clueless he pretends to be. Always playing dumb while knowing more than anyone else.

Of course, Razeal already knew Riven would be in the Royal Classroom.

He wasn’t some lowborn peasant reborn into hardship or orphan drama. Nah, he was a god. He picked the best template available.

Prince of a neighboring kingdom. Not some background nation, either, but a political vessel directly under the Aetherion Empire.

A perfect background. Far enough not to be involved in empire politics too much, yet close enough to hold influence.

Even if that kingdom wasn’t as wealthy or militarily powerful, it was still well respected.

Still, Razeal admitted it was probably the best place for him to reincarnate noble status, freedom of movement, and minimal oversight.

Just as Razeal finally let out a sigh of relief thinking that the damned god had left him alone a voice pierced directly into his mind.

[You seem to have grown stronger, my friend. And so quickly, too. How did you manage it?]

Razeal’s eyes immediately narrowed, lips pressing into a tight line.

Mental transmission.

Riven had spoken directly into his thoughts.

That bastard still wasn’t done.

Sighing slowly, Razeal glanced across the room. Sure enough, Riven had taken a seat just behind Areon, lounging casually with one arm draped over the backrest, his usual warm, infuriating smile playing on his lips.

Razeal shook his head and chose to ignore it. The less interaction, the better.

["Oh? I saw the poison in the dragon heart you gifted the Chosen One. Quite the creative way to secure victory, I must say,"] Riven’s voice echoed in Razeal’s mind, calm, curious, and far too amused.

Razeal almost jumped in his seat but managed to keep his face composed. He kept his mouth shut, refusing to give Riven the satisfaction of a reaction. That last time they’d spoken, Razeal had lost control. He hated how Riven could pry into him, dragging out truths without warning.

"Not like you’re going to interfere with it, so why speak the obvious?" Razeal thought back sharply. He still didn’t understand how the god could maintain such a perfect mental link with him, but then again, he was a god.

["Ah, not even surprised that I know? Here I was expecting you to be startled or anxious that I might reveal your plan. I suppose I must’ve had this conversation with a future you in one of your many timelines. You’ve lived far ahead, haven’t you? You’re getting to know me too well."]

Riven sounded amused, his voice tinged with curiosity. He always did enjoy speaking in riddles, playing in the gray space between what was known and what had yet to be known.

"Think whatever you want. Just don’t disturb me," Razeal shot back, turning his face away. He wasn’t about to give Riven any more satisfaction than he already had.

["Of course, of course. Though I did want to ask how are you staying this calm? You know you won’t be able to win in seven days, right? I mean, you’re smart enough to understand that. You could have found many ways to avoid the battle altogether. You must be the type to think ahead. With the power you hold, escaping or hiding should be easy. Why not run instead of resisting the inevitable?"]

Razeal narrowed his eyes.

And Razeal could see the flawed assumptions in his words.

Riven had misunderstood something ofcourse the extent of Razeal’s abilities. Maybe the thought Razeal had unlimited access to regression or time travel. That he could always run, always hide, always reset the board.

But he couldn’t.

Yes, if he did have that ability if he could rewind time endlessly and prepare for every attack before it came then it would be easy to avoid every danger. That would be a game he could master. But that wasn’t his reality.

He had no such power. No endless regression so chance to dodge what’s coming.

And more importantly, Riven had slipped up.

He had said "her."

That meant the person he would face in seven days... was a woman. Likely Areon’s sister. Maybe, if not her, then their mother. Though the latter seemed too farfetched a duke-level figure involving herself in a student duel would be humiliating.

"So, I have to prepare for her?" Razeal thought. Or maybe someone else entirely. He’d have to consider all options.

As for the notion of his defeat being inevitable? That wasn’t new. Riven, like most gods, loved to speak in layered truths, coded in prophecy and half smiles. Razeal understood that.

"You do what you do, and I’ll do what I can," Razeal responded coldly. "And no, my end is in my hands. Not in anyone else’s."

["Alright, alright. I understand. Everyone has their right to fight. And me? I never said I would stop you, did I? You must know me by now I’m kind and benevolent, after all," Riven chuckled lightly.]

Razeal didn’t respond. His irritation was growing.

["Don’t be like that," Riven continued. "I just wanted to chat with someone who’s died over nine thousand times. Honestly, you’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. Even I haven’t seen anyone like you."]

Still, Razeal remained silent.

["Am I that annoying now? How about this? I’ll ask one last question, then I’ll shut up. I’m curious why didn’t you just give up the match happening in seven days? I mean, you would lose. That’s clear. You know it, I know it. Wouldn’t it be easier to just forfeit? Walk away? You already got what you wanted. Why resist the inevitable humiliation and pain?"]

Razeal went silent.

The question hung in the air, or rather, in the corridor of his mind. Riven wasn’t wrong. Razeal could surrendered. Let it go. Walked away with his head low and dignity intact. He had the Holy Promise shielding him then. No one could touch him.

But that wasn’t the point.

Something in his chest twisted at the thought. Not because of pride. Not because of hatred. But something deeper. Something that made him feel like if he ran, if he gave up he’d never be able to look at himself again.

So finally, he answered.

"Some battles aren’t fought for victory. Maybe sometimes, you just fight to let the world know someone stood on the battlefield. Even if he lost. Even if he was crushed. He was there."

Silence followed.

Even Riven didn’t say anything for a while.

And as for the other stuff... Razeal’s lips curled into a slight smile, not one of joy, but of defiance. His voice was quiet, steady. "I could still say the same for you, Preserver. Isn’t it inevitable for you too? You gave up that celestial body of yours, descended here, reincarnated into human skin... all because of one girl No reincarnation of your wife? right?"

His eyes didn’t shift, fixed on the classroom ceiling like it held all the secrets of the universe. "You’re out here chasing a thread of fate that slipped your fingers once already. You, of all people, should know how fate works better than anyone. So why try again. Give up?"

The mental link fell into momentary silence. Then

[Wait... what? How do you know that? No how far in the future have you gone?] Riven’s voice suddenly rang in his head, not with calm curiosity this time, but something close to genuine shock. [That... that information isn’t something you should know. Even other...]

Razeal smirked slightly, his eyes still fixed upward. "Now we’re even, I suppose."

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