[Welco, Host, to the SSS-Rank Valley of Villey.]
[Villain Title: The Greatest Collector.]
"Finally, a normal title," Razeal muttered, though his tone was anything but trusting. He wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. The damn system always had a way of twisting things just to spite him.
It loved proving him wrong. Like that one psychotic crazy woman titled as ’The Greatest Mother’ not even close to what the na implied. Then there was the so-called World Killer, who now spent his days tending to flowers in so tiny ass hut. And how could he forget ’Not a Swordsman’ the dude who literally sliced a continent in half with a damn sword.
No. Titles were never straight what they seed.
Still, he scanned his surroundings, expecting the usual chaos like always. But this ti... it wasn’t what he expected.
Razeal scratched his head.
This ti, he hadn’t dropped into an open field or the middle of a flowery adow those weird peaceful starting areas that made no sense for an SSSbrank villain.
But now?
Now this felt right.
"Well, finally... looks like a real villain actually lives here," he thought as he looked around.
He found himself inside an enormous no, a massive room. A hall? A chamber? Whatever it was, the size alone made him feel like a bug inside a palace.
All around him, covering the floor in neat rows, were tall glass tubes, each fixed firmly into the ground and stretching around 7–8 feet high. Inside these transparent cylinders flowed a suspicious, thick, green liquid, its glow pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. But that wasn’t the disturbing part.
Suspended within the liquid were strange... things.
Razeal squinted. He couldn’t identify them at first just floating, distorted shapes but the longer he stared, the more he realized... they were organs.
Maybe.
Or limbs?
They looked organic, fleshy so vaguely humanoid, others more beast-like. Twisted. Deford. Unnatural.
He couldn’t be sure what creature they ca from. Maybe they weren’t even from the sa one species. But one thing was certain they didn’t belong there. Not like this. They were being stored. Or collected. He doesn’t know
Then
A crackling, bone-snapping laugh echoed through the hall.
"Ohohohobohoho... finally, sothing interesting has co my way!"
The voice was deep, playful, and full of sothing unhinged excitent. It rattled like dry bones clacking together.
Razeal’s body tensed.
He imdiately turned toward the sound, relying on his high perception. But the mont his eyes locked onto the direction whatever it was had already vanished from view.
He scanned again, quickly.
Then
Behind you.
Razeal twisted around instinctively, jumping back as a voice suddenly whispered just behind his ear.
And there it was.
A tall figure stood in front of him easily seven feet high draped in a black and gold robe that shimred with luxurious fabric and regal patterns. It looked like the kind of outfit a king might wear... if that king was undead.
Because what stood before Razeal wasn’t human.
It wasn’t even alive.
He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
It was a skeleton.
Or at least, sothing that looked like one. The robe concealed most of its body, but the head was completely exposed a bare, bleached skull with no skin, no muscles, not even a hint of decay. Just bone.
And well... its eye sockets weren’t empty.
Inside each sockets, two faint green flas flickered like cursed will-o’-wisps, staring directly at him with unnatural hunger.
Razeal frowned slightly. He’d seen a lot of things since being thrown into this system hell, but this? A talking skeleton wearing noble robes, with literal flas in its eyes?
"Normal as fuck, of course," he muttered dryly.
"So... beautiful..."
The skeleton-creature rasped, its bony jaw moving as it spoke, accompanied by the unsettling crackle of dry bones shifting.
Razeal blinked and pointed at himself, raising an eyebrow. "?" he asked, confused.
"Ewww Not you, you pile of at. What’s inside you."
The creature recoiled slightly, making a disgusted noise.
Razeal’s brow twitched.
Inside ? he echoed confused.
The skeleton leaned closer, rubbing his imaginary chin with one long, spindly hand. Each finger bone was adorned with glittering rings, glinting in the dim green light.
"Do you even know... if you beca a lich like , the profit would be... monuntal! Where did you get these bones from? so beautiful bones skeleton."
"You’ve got great potential as a skeleton. You ca here to get stronger, right? Want so help? I’m really interested."
Razeal’s lips twitched.
Is he talking about the Obsidian Skeleton part of my body?
He looked down at his lower half, which was still intact. Human.
Just the idea of turning into a full skeleton made his skin crawl.
Yeah... no fucking way.
Becoming strong was fine. Necessary even. But turning into sothing like this? That was a sacrifice he wasn’t ready or willing to make.
"No thanks," Razeal said flatly, shaking his head.
The skeleton tilted his skull in mock disappointnt.
"What a disappointnt."
Razeal didn’t care.. Anyways
Razeal didn’t waste ti. "I’ve co to make a deal," he said bluntly. "Give the skills to make stronger. Tell what you want in return, and I’ll try to provide it."
The skeleton’s green eye flas flickered, his skull tilting slightly in thought. Of course, he’d already received the silent ssage soone would arrive to ask for knowledge and strength. But seeing the boy in front of him, so direct was unexpected.
Even felt little funny.
"Hmmm," the lich mused, his jawbone creaking as he tilted his head slightly. "You are direct. Good. But I don’t deal in trades. These are my collections, not commodities. I do not sell, nor do I lend. But... if one of them chooses you, then it is yours."
Razeal raised an eyebrow. Ummm? thats it he thought? Weird.
The lich just tilted his head. "If they want to be with you... they will."
Want to be with ? What does he an? Razeal was confused
And It sounded simple. Too simple Right?. But Razeal wasn’t going to complain. These villains are weird..
"I want shadow affinity knowledge and skills. Everything." He asked directly...If lich isn’t rejecting he should just go for it.
The lich’s green flas flared briefly. "I can’t say if it’s coincidence, or if you already knew I had what you’re seeking. But yes... I possess sothing perfect for you. Co."
Razeal followed, his guard still up. Sothing about this place twisted his instincts. It wasn’t just the tubes full of grotesque pieces, or the liquid that seed to glow from within it was also the eerie feeling he was feeling like he was being watched and judged from everywhere around him.. he doesn’t know.. But definitely a disgusting feeling.
"So where are we going?" he asked, keeping pace. "And what do you an by ’If they want’? I want skills. Knowledge. I didn’t co here for objects?."
"I don’t teach," the lich said, laughing with an eerie, echoing rasp. "Knowledge teaches itself. You asked for shadow, right? But I am not shadow. Only shadow can teach you about what it is. If it chooses to."
"If you are deed worthy, it will accept you. If not... you leave empty-handed, or not at all."
"Shadow can teach ...?" Razeal muttered, not following at all.
The lich gave no more answers. They kept walking.
Ti felt strange here. Minutes. Hours. It was hard to track. But eventually, they arrived at a different kind of containnt tube. Larger than the rest. The liquid inside was no longer green it was a dense, glowing white, thick like milk and seemingly alive. Suspended in the center was a mass of black.
No.. not just darkness. This wasn’t absence of light. As if this thing was devoured it.
A pitch black, ever shifting heart like core floated, as if alive. Its surface rippled, pulsed, shifted in unnatural patterns. Staring at it too long made his head ache, like the shadows were moving even behind his eyes.
Razeal narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"
The lich’s tone turned reverent. "One of my greatest collections. The Shadow Heart. If it wants to teach you if it accepts you.. it will. I don’t interfere."
He gazed at the black mass with fascination, as if beholding a god.
Razeal stepped closer to the glass, his reflection almost devoured by the sheer presence of the thing inside. The Shadow Heart. Whatever that ant... he could feel it watching him.
Razeal didn’t know what to say. The thing in the tank fist-sized, formless, pulsing with a darkness beyond black was hypnotic. His gaze kept drifting back to it.
"So... what do I do? How does this work or umm i am supposed to anything?" he asked, looking over. But the lich was already turning to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"My part is done."
"At least tell how to start. Does it talk? Does it test ? Can it even hear ? What the hell am I supposed to do?"
The skeleton kept walking, voice drifting behind it.
"That is sothing you should discover on your own."
Razeal ran forward a step.
"Then at least give a hint!" he shouted.
The skeleton stopped. For a breathless mont, it didn’t move. Then:
"Touch it."
Razeal opened his mouth.
"But also..." the lich added, "don’t touch it."
Then it vanished. One second there, the next gone, as if the darkness itself swallowed it.
Razeal stared.
"What the hell is that supposed to an?!" he yelled into the empty chamber. "Touch it but don’t? That’s not a hint, that’s a threat!"
No reply.
He turned back to the tube, eyes narrowed. Staring at the floating black core. It looked dead but felt alive.
He tried everything. Talking to it. Calling it. Tapping the glass. Even closing his eyes and focusing, trying to feel sothing.
Nothing.
Minutes passed. No change.
Nothing.
Finally, frustrated and drained, Razeal muttered under his breath, "Screw this."
He stepped back, rolled his shoulders, and without hesitation, drew his sword with a sharp tallic ring. His patience had officially run out. Enough of the cryptic waiting. If this so called Shadow Heart had sothing for him, it better start talking or get broken open.
"I’m breaking the damn thing open," he growled.
Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip. His muscles tensed, his footing shifted into perfect stance. With D-rank strength and agility backing him up, the sword strike was as smooth and fast as a whip crack faster than the eye could track. But he wasn’t reckless. He deliberately aid low, striking the glass chamber beneath the heart so he wouldn’t risk slicing the mysterious artifact or whatever was inside.
The sword struck.
A shockwave of raw force blasted out from the point of impact.
But instead of cutting through like butter like he expected it stopped. Completely.
Click.
It was like hitting a mountain.
Razeal’s eyes widened as the jarring vibration rattled up through his hands and into his shoulders. His sword bounced off, and he stumbled a half step back, stunned. He looked at the glass. Not even a scratch.
"...Huh?" he blinked, then leaned in, examining the spot closely. His expression darkened.
Nothing. Not even a dent. It looked like he hadn’t touched it at all.
"You’ve got to be kidding . I can’t even scratch this shit?"
He gritted his teeth and struck again. And again.
Minutes passed.
Ten, maybe more.
The floor around him was now littered with broken blades, shattered hilts, bent axes, and busted hamrs. It looked like a battlefield except his only opponent was a damn tube.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His hands feeling numb. His arms ached. He was down to a dented war axe, the edge already chipped from the last swing.
He tossed it aside with a frustrated grunt. It clanged loudly as it hit the pile of failed weapons.
"What kind of demon is this?"
Breathing, Razeal sat down on the floor, glaring at the unbreakable tube like it had personally insulted him. He ran a hand through his ssy hair, muttering curses.
"Maybe... maybe I should just use Flow," he said to himself, thinking aloud... Not understanding he’s sounding like trying to use nuke for cutting tree of
It was a suicidal technique try using flow of whole planet but if he stood himself against the tube, maybe it would work.
I an, yeah, I’d die but if I just stood next to the glass, and trillions of kilograms of force hit ... the glass would go with , right? It’d fly off too?"
He exhaled. "Embarrassing... just to crack so glass i need to use like use suicide skill but."
Then again, who was around to see him? No one. Just this weird-ass lab of floating guts and mystery goo. Still, the thought of slamming himself into glass like so deranged bird didn’t sit well.
He looked at the white liquid inside the tube. Floating within was the Shadow Heart an orb like of pure darkness, so black it looked like it devoured the light around it. He couldn’t help but feel like it was watching him.
His eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, pressing his palm lightly to the cool surface of the tube.
"You in there... Can you hear ? Yooo black dude" he whispered.
It didn’t move ofcourse. As he expected
but
Suddenly, he paused.
A ripple.
Razeal froze.
He blinked. Did it... move?
The black mass inside had twitched. It wasn’t his imagination.
Then again. A pulse. A slow, deliberate twitch like a heartbeat.
"Hey," Razeal said, standing taller, instinctively taking a step back.
The orb moved. It was no longer still it drifted.
Slowly, eerily, it started to glide toward him through the viscous liquid, like a predator stalking its prey.
His breath hitched.
It stopped right at the edge re inches from where the glass separated them. The Shadow Heart pulsed again, as if testing sothing.
Razeal’s heart pounded.
Was it... trying to reach him?
He stepped closer. His hand hovered over the glass.
CRACK!
The sound was deafening.
"Oh, shit.."
CRACK! CRACK!
The glass groaned.
The Shadow Heart was moving again fast, now, swirling the white liquid into a vortex.
And then
With a loud, piercing crack
CRACKKKKKK!
The glass tube shattered just as the black heart touched its inner wall.
Shards of glass fell like snowflakes in slow motion, tumbling weightlessly through the air. The pristine, viscous white liquid inside spilled out in a slow flood, washing across the floor. It crept over Razeal’s boots, soaking the soles of his feet. Cool. Almost soothing. He didn’t flinch.
He just stood there, quiet and still.
"What the..." Razeal murmured, eyes narrowing. "This glass took everything I had. Thousands of attacks swords, axes, flow nothing. Not a scratch. And now it breaks like cheap porcelain?"
He barely had ti to process the contradiction. Because now the heart was moving.
Floating.
Drifting.
It hovered forward, slow and silent, until it stopped just inches from his chest. No sound. No pressure. Just... there.
Up close, Razeal got his first real look. And it was nothing like what he expected.
It wasn’t flesh or stone or crystal. It looked like a heart made of shadows, layered together in impossibly thin strands woven, interlaced, braided in ways that defied logic. The shadows were almost liquid, flowing along invisible veins, folding into themselves, blinking with an otherworldly rhythm.
"What... is this?" he whispered, srized.
He couldn’t look away. Sothing about it was hypnotic, magnetic. Beautiful in a way he didn’t have words for.
Then it began to beat.
With every pulse, the shadows in the room shifted. Faint, almost unnoticeable at first. But then Razeal’s own shadow twitched on the ground. It curled. Twisted. Danced.
Moved.
And Razeal didn’t even notice.
All his focus was locked on the floating heart.
And without realizing it, his hand lifted.
He touched it.
The surface didn’t feel like skin or shadow or air. It felt like touching nothing. Like the absence of space.
Yet it was cold. Not icy or harsh just impossibly still.
Then everything changed.
Flicker.
No sound. No light. No sensation.
Then Razeal opened his eyes.
Or... did he not?
"Where am I?" his voice didn’t echo. In fact, he didn’t even hear it.
He was surrounded by pure black. Not darkness. Not a room with lights off.
Absence.
There was no floor beneath him. No wind on his face. No pressure. No weight.
"Am I... even here?"
He tried using flow sense nothing. His heightened perception gone. Even the sound of his own breath didn’t reach his ears.
He tried moving. He couldn’t tell if he was standing, floating, falling or if those concepts even applied here.
He clapped his hands together.
He felt them touch. But he didn’t hear it. Not even the tiniest vibration.
This place didn’t allow sound.
Didn’t allow air.
Didn’t allow presence.
He tried turning his head. No orientation. He looked down no body. He couldn’t see his limbs. But when he reached out, he could feel them. As if his mind registered the presence of his form, but the world refused to acknowledge it.
"What is this...?"
Panic didn’t co. It was too quiet for panic. Too... nothing.
He tried to use his flow scenses.
The only thing he could see barely was a line. A thin ripple of motion. Like a river made of ti itself, flowing in a perfect, straight path across this void.
No other flow to be seen. No color.
Nothing but that.
He turned off his flow sense, instinctively. Sothing told him he shouldn’t use it here. Not now. Not in this space.
Was he Dead?
He didn’t know.
And worse, he couldn’t even feel afraid.
Because the emptiness didn’t allow it.
It just swallowed everything.
Even fear.
---
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