Reborn with the SSS-Rank Creator System-Chapter 13: Tragedy

Theos opened his status screen, his eyes scanning the glowing text with satisfaction. His strength had reached an entirely new level. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw power surging through his body. Every major realm in cultivation was a monumental step, and he knew that once he stepped into Muscle Forging, his strength would at least double. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through him.

For the past six months, he had relentlessly practiced his dagger skills. There were countless times when he had struggled against Xiphos, unable to break past his precise defenses, his dagger techniques feeling sluggish and unrefined in comparison. But each failure pushed him further. He had adapted, learned to read openings, and honed his strikes to be faster, deadlier, and unpredictable. Now, standing at the peak of his training, he could feel it—his dagger skills had transformed from mere instinct to a refined weapon in their own right. Though he had no formal technique, he had learned through battle—fighting Xiphos had forced him to adapt, improve, and refine his attacks. He no longer swung his dagger aimlessly; every strike was calculated and efficient.

He glanced at Xiphos, who sat nearby. They could now truly be called friends, even if they had never shared their deepest secrets. But trust had been built—stronger than words, proven through multiple battles and shared meals under the same roof.

Xiphos had started melding with Theos' family, especially with Elena. At first, he wasn't sure how to act—he had never known what it was like to be part of a family. But Elena's warmth was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Whenever she spoke to him, he felt a strange, comforting sense of peace, as if the void he had long carried inside him was beginning to fill.

One evening, as they sat for dinner, Elena placed an extra portion of food on his plate. "You train so hard, Xiphos. Eat more."

Xiphos hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Thank you," he said quietly, a rare softness in his voice.

Samuel chuckled. "I swear, you're just like Theos—too stubborn to take care of yourself properly."

Theos smirked. "At least I don't need to be told twice."

Xiphos shook his head, hiding the small smile that tugged at his lips. He had never expected to find a place that felt like home, yet here he was, feeling something he never thought he deserved—belonging. There was something about her presence that made him feel at peace. Whenever she spoke to him, he felt a warmth he had never known—a motherly warmth. Samuel and Elena had never treated Xiphos as an outsider; to them, he was as much their son as Theos.

After checking his status, Theos smirked as he looked at Xiphos. "Next time, I'll definitely win."

Xiphos scoffed, a rare smirk crossing his lips. "Yeah, yeah. We'll see."

Theos laughed. "Hehehe. Let's go home."

As the sun began to set, Theos and Xiphos set off running toward the village after a long day of hunting.

They had three more days in the village before they would leave for the Heavenly Star Sect. Theos decided not to train in that time—he wanted to spend every moment with his family. Surprisingly, Xiphos also chose not to train.

"I just... want to feel at home for as long as I can," Xiphos admitted one night at the dinner table.

Elena smiled warmly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Then just be here with us, Xiphos. You don't have to rush."

The news of Theos leaving for the sect spread throughout the village. Everyone was thrilled for him. Friends came to congratulate him, and even the village elder visited.

"You need not worry about the Red Sky Sect," the elder assured Theos and Xiphos. "I will send word that you have joined the Heavenly Star Sect. No one would dare take offense to that—not when you're under their banner. They are a behemoth on this continent."

A weight lifted from Theos' heart at those words. He had been concerned that the Red Sky Sect might retaliate against the village, but hearing the elder's reassurance allowed him to truly look forward to the future.

They were about 1 kilometers away when Theos suddenly halted.

Xiphos tensed beside him. "What is it?"

Theos' heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know why—but something felt wrong.

Then, they saw it.

In the distance, smoke billowed into the sky, flickering flames devouring the night.

Their village was on fire.

A horrible silence settled between them for a second before Theos' body moved on instinct.

"Xiphos! RUN!"

The two of them exploded forward, their figures blurring as they tore through the landscape at full speed.

As they neared the village entrance, they saw the horrors unfold.

Houses were ablaze, screams echoed through the air, and ten cultivators clad in dark robes slaughtered villagers left and right, cutting them down like livestock.

Theos' entire body trembled with rage, his Supreme Eyes activating instinctively, taking in every detail with piercing clarity. But then his gaze locked onto the man in the middle.

A tall figure sat atop a pile of bodies, his arms resting lazily on his knees, an air of absolute arrogance about him. The massacre had unfolded only moments ago.

It had begun with a simple misstep. Elena had been walking through the village, looking backward while speaking to one of the elderly women when she accidentally bumped into a man clad in dark robes, his aura exuding dominance. His eyes were sharp, predatory, and filled with arrogance as he turned slowly to face her, as if he had been inconvenienced by the mere presence of a mortal.

"You dare?" his voice was calm, yet laced with unmistakable malice.

"I—I'm sorry, I wasn't looking—" Elena began, stepping back instinctively, but the man had already acted.

A resounding slap cracked through the air, sending her crashing to the ground. Gasps erupted from the surrounding villagers, fear gripping them at the sudden display of cruelty.

Samuel had been nearby, his head snapping toward the sound. The moment he saw his wife on the ground, his blood ran cold. "Elena!" he shouted, rushing forward.

The dark-robed leader sneered as he dusted off his sleeve, his expression twisted with disdain. "How dare these lowly villagers not bow their heads in my presence? Do they not know who I am? Insolent insects, daring to act as if they are my equals! This village is beneath me—its very existence offends me!"

He cast a lazy glance over the terrified faces before him, then turned to his subordinates. "Kill them all! Burn their homes! Let them remember, in their final moments, that they were nothing more than dirt beneath my feet." Burn the village to the ground! Let them remember their mistake in their final moments!"

One of the enforcers drew his sword without hesitation, slashing down the elderly woman Elena had been speaking to, cutting her down where she stood.

The village erupted into panic.

Samuel skidded to a halt, horror paralyzing him as the cultists began their slaughter. People screamed, running for their lives, but the enemy was too strong. Houses went up in flames, the scent of burning wood and flesh filling the air.

"No—NO!" Samuel roared, unsheathing his own blade and charging at the nearest attacker. He struck fiercely, his sword biting into the man's shoulder, but the enemy barely flinched before retaliating, sending Samuel sprawling onto the blood-stained dirt.

Through his blurred vision, Samuel saw Elena being dragged before the leader.

"P-please..." Elena's voice trembled, but her eyes held no fear for herself—only for the village. "Spare them. They've done nothing to you."

The leader smirked, his amusement clear. "Oh? And what if I don't feel like it?" He crouched before her, tilting his head as if pondering a deep philosophical question. "Should I let them live just because you beg?" He let out a laugh, then extended a single hand toward her throat.

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Samuel's breath caught. "NO!"

A sickening crack echoed.

Elena's body crumpled, lifeless.

Samuel's world collapsed.

Now, he sat atop the dead, his boots soaked in fresh blood, the firelight flickering against his cruel smirk. The acrid stench of burning flesh filled the air, mingling with the dying moans of the few villagers still drawing breath. He tapped his fingers idly against his knee, surveying the carnage with a bored expression, as if the massacre before him was nothing more than an evening's entertainment. The flames danced behind him, their glow casting elongated shadows that made his silhouette look even more monstrous.

Under his legs lay Samuel and Elena.

Samuel was breathing—barely.

Elena was lifeless.

Theos' vision went black.

Xiphos, who could not see the scene before him, felt Samuel's breathing—but there was no sound from Elena.

His hands trembled as a creeping dread crawled up his spine. He tried desperately to listen for her heartbeat, for any sign of life.

There was none.

All the warmth she had given him flashed through his mind. The gentle words, the smiles, the feeling of a home he had never known.

And now... she was gone.

Theos' breathing became ragged, his fingers twitching. The rage inside him boiled over like an erupting volcano, his killing intent turning the air around him ice cold.

Xiphos, too, felt the shift, his fists tightening, his pulse hammering in his ears.

The man sitting on the corpses smirked, seemingly amused. He nudged Samuel's barely breathing body with his foot. "Pathetic."

That single act shattered whatever self-control Theos had left.

His Supreme Eyes flared, his body vanishing in an instant.

Xiphos unsheathed his sword, his stance eerily calm despite the storm raging inside him. His hands trembled, not with fear, but with something he didn't fully understand.

Together, they moved.

There would be no mercy.

Theos moved like a phantom, his dagger carving through flesh like it was paper. One of the dark-robed cultivators barely had time to react before Theos' blade flashed across his throat, severing his windpipe in one swift motion. Blood sprayed as the man's body crumpled lifelessly to the ground, a silent scream still frozen on his lips.

Without stopping, Theos pivoted on his heel, dodging an incoming strike from another enemy. He sidesteppedeffortlessly, grabbing the attacker's wrist mid-swing before plunging his dagger into the man's ribs, twisting viciously. The cultivator coughed blood, his body convulsing before falling limp. Theos didn't even spare him a glance.

Another enemy lunged at him, swinging a glowing blade infused with faint energy. Theos ducked low, feeling the air whistle over his head, before driving his dagger upward into the man's jaw, the blade piercing through and exiting from the top of his skull. He let the corpse fall before moving toward his next target.

Xiphos, though lacking Theos' killing intent, was just as ruthless. His sword sang through the air, each stroke calculated and precise. He severed an arm from one attacker before spinning around to pierce another's heart, his blade moving so fluidly it seemed almost effortless.

A cultivator swung at him from behind, but Xiphos tilted his head slightly, sensing the movement. He countered in a flash, his sword slicing through the man's wrist, sending the severed hand flying before driving his blade into the man's exposed throat. He withdrew without hesitation, flicking the blood off his sword before stepping forward to meet his next opponent.

Screams echoed as the dark-robed men realized—they were not the hunters tonight. They were prey. One of them attempted to flee, sheer terror in his eyes, but Theos appeared before him in an instant, his dagger flashing in the moonlight before sinking into his gut. The man gasped, clutching at Theos' wrist in vain, before collapsing to the dirt. None would escape.

They were prey.

One by one, they fell, their blood soaking into the burning ground as Theos and Xiphos carved through them with merciless precision. The once-confident attackers were now reduced to desperate cowards, their arrogance crumbling under the sheer wrath and skill of their enemies.

Theos reached the main leader, his vision a blur of blood and rage. As he stared at the man sitting atop the corpses, flashes of Elena's warmth filled his mind—the way she would fuss over him at dinner, the way she had welcomed Xiphos as if he were her own, the gentle touch of her hands when she patted his head as a child. That warmth was gone now, ripped away by the monster before him.

The scent of burning wood and blood filled his nostrils, mixing with the screams still echoing in the distance. The leader smirked, amused by Theos' reaction. "Oh? Did I take something precious from you, boy?" he taunted, nudging Elena's lifeless body with his foot.

Something inside Theos snapped.

His breathing grew ragged, his entire body shaking—not from fear, but from the sheer, unrelenting fury clawing at his soul. His Supreme Eyes flared, veins pulsing with uncontrollable rage. His fingers twitched before gripping his dagger with such force that his knuckles turned white.

Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance. His Supreme Eyes burned as he locked onto the man responsible for this massacre, his entire world narrowing to a single objective—kill him.

"You... I will kill you."

The leader chuckled, standing up and cracking his neck. "I'd like to see you try, boy."

Xiphos turned his head toward the sub-leader, standing beside the leader. "You're mine."

The next battle would be their true test.