The S-Classes That I Raised

In that tower, the king of the world was imprisoned.

At first, it was just a village. The village built by those who fled into the desert lacked everything. And it was only right that it lacked. Above all else, the most needed resource was water.

The leader, a shaman, performed a ritual to draw in water. In order to maintain a single trickling stream, he had to continuously manipulate his mana without moving from that spot. In this way, the village survived and gradually grew, but it was all built on the sacrifice of the shaman.

If the shaman disappeared, the village would disappear too. A human lifespan is not eternal, so successors were constantly needed. Children who showed a talent for handling mana were trained, praised endlessly as future leaders and protectors of the village.

And so, new shamans were born, died, and were born again, over and over—until one day, a child appeared with a talent so extraordinary it had no precedent.

The tiny stream became a river. The forest grew, and crops flourished. Unlike the shamans of the past, who only managed to draw water, the child began to alter the environment itself, using a delicate control of mana that ordinary people could not hope to imitate. Rain fell at just the right time, winds stirred on command. The child created giant dolls out of earth and stone, shaping the land by making them move.

The lush and fertile land expanded, and the village grew into a city. At the same time, the people became afraid of losing their precious treasure. If the child were to disappear, the city would fall into ruin. Even if they toiled all day relying on the tiny stream, their harvest would not amount to even half of what it was now.

"We will protect you."

The small house of the shaman gradually grew larger. Tall walls were built around the mansion. Outsiders were strictly kept from even approaching.

Naturally, the child was forbidden from going outside. Unlike the previous shamans, the child possessed enough power to let the city thrive even while roaming freely, but under the pretext of tradition and external dangers, they were kept locked inside the house.

No matter how gentle the child was, discontent inevitably grew. But as countless people repeated the same words, the child came to believe and follow it as the truth.

But in the end—

"There's a treasure hidden in the desert."

Despite the efforts of the city's people, word of the mysterious transformation spread far and wide. A treasure holding the power of prosperity, turning the desert green. It wasn't an old legend or baseless rumor. Numerous witnesses had seen with their own eyes how the land had completely changed in just over a decade.

Naturally, greedy rulers began to appear. At first, strangers started visiting the city more frequently. Then came word that armies were beginning to move. The citizens flocked to the child, who was now of adult age but unchanged in appearance, pleading for their power to protect the city.

As they wished, the child created powerful dolls. Some were only tens of centimeters tall and incredibly fast, while others were massive and imposing, reaching tens of meters in height.

The armies dared not attack. Instead, the rulers sent envoys to the mansion where the child lived. One dark night, slipping past the eyes of the guards in silence, a messenger approached the child and asked,

"Why is someone with your kind of power confined in a place like this?"

Though the child could have left at any time and lived freely, enjoying everything the world had to offer, he answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"If I alone endure, then everyone can be happy."

Talented children had always been taught this, so that shamans could be bound across generations. With the sacrifice of one, all could live. It was the right thing. A noble and great achievement.

To that, the messenger replied,

"This city has, at most, ten thousand people. But in a great nation, there are tens of millions. By your logic, shouldn't the people of this small city be sacrificed for the sake of the great nation?"

The child hesitated, then slowly nodded. The messenger was right.

The rulers built a tall, towering structure for the child. The inside was luxuriously adorned, while the outside was sealed so no one could enter. At an impossible height, they left only a small window. They exalted the child as the greatest king of the world and wished for eternal prosperity.

As time passed, the world became more and more abundant. The range of the child's power grew wider, until finally, the entire world came to benefit from his grace.

It went beyond mere convenience—small dolls took on the labor once performed by humans. It was a paradise where people only needed to enjoy life.

Hundreds of years passed, and then more than a thousand. The king in the tower became a figure of legend. Every year, a festival was held in his honor, and gratitude was offered, but no one questioned the reality of his existence.

'It's snowing.'

Beyond the high, high window, snowflakes danced softly on the wind. Some of them eventually drifted inside.

The once luxurious interior of the tower had long since grown worn and faded. The silk-covered walls had rotted away, and the finely painted wooden pillars had collapsed. Only the tower itself, built with the strongest stones and crafted with the utmost care by every skilled artisan of the time, remained standing—bearing the marks of time yet still firm.

With the child's power, everything could have been restored exactly as it once was. It was even possible to make it more luxurious. But he did not use his power for himself. All abilities beyond survival were used for the people outside.

Because that was the right and proper thing to do.

Even as he longingly looked at the single patch of sky beyond the window, he ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) never tried to take it for himself. He welcomed only the snowflakes that naturally floated in. That's why he liked winter. Unlike rainwater, snow could pile up and be scooped into his hands.

Time passed again. It had always been a world where magical beasts existed. But at some point, those beasts began to grow stronger. The dolls took up arms and defeated them, but the damage steadily increased. Discontent among the people grew, and the child began to feel anxious. One night—

[You possess an extraordinarily impressive power.]

Moonlight seeped in through the window. It was silver, far too bright and vivid to belong to the small crescent moon hanging in the sky.

[You alone, in this world.]

The moonlight whispered gently. It was an exceedingly kind and beautiful voice. The child stared, entranced.

[Even so, why are you curled up here all alone?]

"B-Because... it's the right thing to do."

It had been so long since he had spoken aloud that it felt awkward. Had he spoken properly? Though uncertain, the child stammered as he spoke about himself. The moonlight shimmered with a soft laugh.

[If that is truly your wish, then devour this world.]

"...What?"

[There are countless worlds. An immeasurable number of them are born and then vanish. This world is small—only 4.1 billion intelligent beings exist here. Just as you are one among 4.1 billion, this world is only one among countless others.]

Like the child, like the small village from long ago, like the city.

[If you devour this world, you will gain the power to save the many others that are fading away. That is the right thing to do—don't you think so too?]

The child nodded. The moonlight's words were right.

"How do I devour a world?"

[Plant your power throughout the world and kill every intelligent being. Then the world will naturally become subordinate to you, and you will be able to devour it. You've already nearly achieved it.]

It could be done with just the resolve. The child did not hesitate. There was no reason to hesitate. He was already the king of the world—a god. With no one by his side to stand with him or share his heart, he did not flinch from sweeping away all that he had managed for the sake of a higher ideal.

The dolls spread across the world began to move. The people, who had entrusted even self-protection to the dolls, could not resist in the slightest.

Thus, one world was devoured.

"It's not working..."

Rookie let out a sigh. The soft beige fur on his ears drooped. The system of an entire world had stopped. He couldn't properly access it.

The system had been disrupted by Chatterbox's interference, and the King of Harmless had dug in and damaged parts of it. Then it was blocked off by a mysterious and powerful force. Rookie groaned and slumped into the round chair.

Around him was a white snowy field, with snow still falling. Sparkling icicles floated gently in the air.

"What do I do, he's gonna be mad. I'm gonna get scolded again."

The image of those sharply raised black eyes came vividly to mind. He'd glare and say he wasn't doing his job properly. Complain about compensation. Rookie bounced his feet anxiously as he looked through the items he could offer under his authority.

"It's true the system error caused damage. Couldn't even do a proper point exchange. And Honey will definitely prioritize Honey's younger sibling again, right?"

Even though it was going to be taken from him, he couldn't help but smile a little. The tips of his ears twitched.

"Should give Honey something too, but they only ask for stuff for others. Should I just say there's not much I can give?"

Rookie rummaged around, then suddenly touched his own head. Maybe because he was a Nurturer? He remembered the look in those eyes that gazed at his original form like it was adorable. The voice that had said thank you.

"...It'll be okay."

Nothing bad would happen. And even if it did, there was nothing that could be done. It would be disappointing given the effort put in, but it would be just one of many small sacrifices that had always been made.

Even thinking that, Rookie couldn't take his eyes off the frozen system.

"This is hard."

He was fixing it, but it would take a long time to fully restore. He had no clue how to break through the blockage. While trying various methods in frustration—

[You're working hard.]

A message window appeared. Rookie's ears perked straight up.

"...Who?"

[A very distant senior.]

A faint silhouette appeared beyond the message window. It looked like a woman in a business suit. Rookie's red eyes widened.

"Wait, then... are you one of the system creators...?"

[One of them.] This translation is powered by the readers at M|V|LE9MPYR.

"But I heard all of the original system creators were absorbed into the system."

In order to complete the system—a new law that governed countless worlds. At Rookie's words, the hazy face smiled.

[The system is currently stopped. It's break time, you could say. This is just a tiny part of it. So I'm the only one awake. Oh, and I did the point compensation for you.]

"You mean point compensation for Honey's group?"

[What's blocked will naturally reconnect before long. But, Rookie.]

Though it was just a message composed of text, the weight in her tone could be felt.

[The system was created to give every world a chance.]

"...Pardon?"

[Fundamentally, it's a guide for sudden changes, and beyond that, a support for those with potential. We wanted it to be a hope given equally to all worlds.]

Aid for those who wish to survive.

[But look at the current state. How many worlds have already been sacrificed? Saying that it becomes easier to manage if more transcendents share the vision—it's not wrong. Certainly.]

However, in the end—

[At this rate, what's the difference between the Primordial Ones and you all?]

"I just..."

[You followed the crescent moon's words. I know. But, Rookie, don't give up so easily. If there's someone who wishes to survive, help them until the end. That's who we are. The system is a guide and a helper—not the decision maker.]

Rookie blinked. Abandon the trivial. Give up if the chances are slim. Use resources and power to support the places with higher potential. That had been the path he'd believed in and followed up until now.

"But if it means saving more worlds..."

[Value isn't that simple. We shouldn't be the ones to define that value on our own, either. Rookie, can you really trade everything at a one-to-one ratio? Is there not a single thing that pulls at your heart more? When weighing the lives of two people with equal value in terms of ability, have you never once leaned toward one side?]

Rookie couldn't respond. If everyone told him to give up on the world he was concerned about now... If they said it was the better choice... could he follow so easily?

[Rookie, don't forget.]

The tangled mess of the system rapidly began restoring itself. Rookie stared at the movements, as if hypnotized. He watched with intense focus, as if to etch them into his eyes.

[The reason we created the system. Don't cross the line. And stop those who try to.]

The once faint silhouette grew even hazier. Nearly half of it dissolved into mist.

[Ah, Chaos asked for your contact info.]

"Huh? Chaos?"

[There's this old guy on the side of the First Primordial. Not sure what's gotten into him, but try reaching out.]

Her presence vanished completely. Rookie stared blankly at the restored system.

The snow had stopped at some point.