Reborn with the SSS-Rank Creator System-Chapter 16: I will be your Slave

Theos cried just like a child—loud, broken sobs echoing through the quiet battlefield. Elena's hand, limp and cold in his grasp. His body trembled as he clutched Elena's hand, his face buried in her bloodied robes. Every sound he made carried the weight of heartbreak, a pain too vast for words.

Not far from him, Xiphos stood amidst the wreckage of his own battle.

By the time Theos had torn the leader's body from his neck, Xiphos had already ended his fight. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, blood, and sorrow.

Xiphos turned his head toward Theos, his blindfold fluttering in the wind. Though he could not see, he sensed the anguish pouring from Theos like a flood. A single tear welled up and slid down his cheek, soaking into the fabric of his blindfold.

He didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

Because in that moment, there were no words that could make any of it better.

He simply walked forward, slow and steady, toward his friend.

The black night hung heavily over the village, still cloaked in death and silence. Flames flickered from the burning homes, casting long, dancing shadows. Pools of blood stained the earth, their slick surfaces reflecting the orange glow of firelight like haunted mirrors.

From hidden cellars, behind broken walls, and beneath shattered carts, survivors began to emerge. They were in shock, expressions etched with confusion and grief. Some clutched each other tightly, hesitant to believe the nightmare had passed. Others moved with slow, trembling steps, afraid of what they might still find. Faces pale, clothes torn, they stepped into the open and beheld the scene—Theos, their beacon of hope, crying like a child over his mother's body.

A wave of sorrow swept through them. One by one, their eyes welled with tears. No one tried to stay strong anymore. No one held back. The grief they had buried in silence now surged free, and the village echoed with cries of loss. The raw sobbing of Theos had broken the dam within them.

Minutes passed. Theos was still sobbing, cradling Elena's hand.

Then, with a weak groan, Samuel stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and he struggled to sit up. Every bone in his body ached, but when he saw Theos and Elena, he forced himself to move.

He limped, staggering with every step, until he reached her side and collapsed to his knees.

Samuel, though weak, held himself up beside Theos. His own tears streamed freely now.

He placed a shaking hand on Theos' shoulder.

Theos turned, his tear-streaked face filled with desperation.

"Papa... see... Mumma's not responding... what do I do, Papa? I can't... I can't live without her."

He sobbed harder, voice cracking with every word. "Who will care for me now? Who will make me delicious food when I come back from training? Who will convince you to let me do what I want?"

His cries grew louder, more broken. "I wanted to give her a life without worry, Papa. I wanted to protect her. But I couldn't even do that... I couldn't repay any of the love she gave me."

Theos clutched Elena's hand tighter and turned to his father, eyes filled with unbearable pain.

"Papa, do something... please... do something..."

Samuel didn't respond with words. He simply pulled Theos into an embrace. Father and son held each other, their tears mingling in the cold night air. Samuel's arms trembled, not just from weakness but from the pain of knowing he couldn't take away his son's suffering. He said nothing—because no words existed that could mend this.

Then, suddenly, a thunderous boom cracked through the night. A shockwave echoed across the skies.

Everyone instinctively looked upward.

A man hovered in the sky, his robes untouched by the wind, his presence so overwhelming that the air itself seemed to still around him.

Xiphos' head turned instantly, his senses sharpening.

"Master," he said under his breath.

The man's eyes swept the battlefield—the ruined village still burning, the bodies littering the ground, and then finally, Theos clutching Elena.

He brought his hands together in front of his chest. Between them, a single droplet of water materialized, suspended by his will.

With a gentle motion, he released it upward. The droplet rose silently into the sky.

Moments later, clouds began to gather.

Rain started to pour moments later, washing the soot and ash from the skies. The flames consuming the village flickered, then dimmed, then died out under the relentless downpour. Steam rose as scorched timber cooled, and the crackling of fire was replaced by the steady sound of falling rain.

The man slowly descended from the sky, touching down near Theos.

The villagers watched in awe and fear, unsure of who this stranger was. But then Xiphos ran forward, urgency in his steps.

"Master! Thank god you're here."

The man's expression didn't change. He looked at Xiphos, then to Theos and Elena, then finally across the remnants of the village.

"You broke the seal I gave you," the man said. "Tell me what happened here."

Xiphos bowed his head and recounted everything—the attack, the village's destruction, the death of Elena, and Theos' final battle.

The master listened, his eyes soon drifting back to Theos, who remained hunched over Elena, still trembling.

A flicker of doubt passed through the master's gaze. 'He's broken', he thought. 'How will someone like this walk the path of cultivation?'

Then Xiphos stepped forward again, voice low but desperate.

"Master... I owe you my life. Whatever I am, it's because of you, and I don't want to sound ungrateful. But... can you please use that item to revive her? Please."

The master's expression darkened.

"Do you even know what you're asking for? People would slaughter kingdoms for that item, and you want me to use it... here? Never."

Theos' ears twitched. Even in his grief, he had heard every word. And something flickered inside him—hope.

He rose abruptly and rushed toward the master.

Falling to his knees, he slammed his forehead into the ground with such force that blood began to seep from the impact, forming a crater beneath him.

"Sir! Please, I'm begging you. Please save my mother. I'll do anything. Anything!"

The master sighed.

"Life and death are part of the natural cycle. Everything that is born must die one day. Death is the only absolute truth of existence. Everything else is an illusion. You must let her go and rise above this world if you want to protect others from suffering the same fate."

But Theos didn't move. His forehead remained pressed against the earth.

"Sir, I understand what you are saying... but... she's my mother. I wanted to do so much for her."

His voice broke.

"If you save her, I will serve you. I'll become your slave, I'll do anything you command. I will find and return your treasure. I'll search the heavens and earth until I bring it back."

The master frowned deeply. 'He's already submitting himself to me? Then how will he fight the heavens? Has he already lost the will to walk his path?'

He stepped forward and placed a hand on Theos' shoulder.

Theos slowly raised his head.

The master froze.

Theos' eyes—red, glowing, not from sorrow, but from something deeper—power. The Supreme Eyes were active. And within them, he saw something strange, a pattern forming. The master inhaled sharply, stunned by the transformation. He had expected desperation, submission—but what he saw now was something entirely different: defiance, determination, and the unyielding will to rise even in the face of devastation.

No... I was wrong. He isn't broken.

The master chuckled softly.

"What kind of child is this... so willing to submit, yet his spirit hasn't yielded at all. He has a talent I've never seen before. He will soar through the heavens... perhaps even save us all."

He looked toward Xiphos, then back to Theos.

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'Xiphos is great—brilliant, even. But Theos... without any formal training, he's already ahead. What would happen if he truly grows? Maybe he can stop the century-old war. Maybe he can change this world.'

The master sighed and looked at the rain washing away the blood.

"For a child like this... if I must lose my treasure, then so be it. This is for the future."

As his words faded into the night, the master slowly began to rise into the air. With a flick of his hand, Elena's body followed, lifting gently from the ground as if weightless. Theos and Samuel watched silently, their breath caught.

The rain continued to pour softly as the master ascended, Elena's body floating before him.

Then he raised his fist and lightly punched upward—toward the clouds. The shockwave that erupted split the skies. The dark clouds dispersed like curtains, unveiling a breathtaking night sky above.

A brilliant nebula stretched across the heavens, casting hues of violet, gold, and deep blue. Stars shimmered more clearly than ever before, and the rain turned luminous, as if starlight had mixed with every drop.

Holding Elena in air before him, the master reached into his space pouch. From within, he drew a lotus—unlike anything the world had seen. Its petals shimmered and shifted in color like liquid light, cycling through every color of the rainbow.

The lotus radiated pure spiritual energy. Tiny particles of light floated from it and scattered across the village.

Wherever they landed, they healed.

A child with a wound gasped as the flesh closed without pain. A farmer's broken leg straightened. Trees once scorched by fire regained their leaves. The energy did not discriminate. It healed all.

And yet—the lotus itself had not been activated. This was its passive presence alone.

The master raised Elena's body slowly, positioning her upright in midair. The lotus began to rise on its own, floating above her head.

He clenched his hands together once more, and with great effort, willed the lotus to begin.

The vibrant color of the petals started to fade, slowly draining as though its essence was being drawn inward.

The master grunted, sweat forming along his brow. This was not a simple task. It required his will, his life force, his complete concentration.

Above, the lotus spun gently. Every motion of its petals drew more of its light into a singular point. Then, all at once, the remaining essence condensed into a droplet—a single, shimmering drop of divine energy.

It hovered for a breathless second before dropping.

The drop fell straight into Elena's slightly parted lips and vanished.