Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 481: The Woman Beneath the Mask

The Woman Beneath the Mask

The night held its breath.

The courtyard was a grave of fire and silence—charred earth, broken blades, the faint hiss of embers chewing through what was left of the banners. The smoke curled low, dragging the air heavy and dim. Not a soul dared move.

Alina stood at the center, her body trembling faintly from the magic that had just torn through her disguise. The illusion peeled away like mist under sunlight, and what emerged... no one was prepared for.

The tall, hardened knight form that once stood like stone before them now melted into something else entirely. The lines of her body shifted; her shoulders narrowed, her armor contoured as if it suddenly realized who it was meant to fit. Black and gray strands lengthened, swirling in the wind as they brightened into a deep, silken pink. The hue spread slowly, like dawn staining the edges of night.

Leon didn’t move. His eyes followed every flicker, every change—the subtle shrinking of muscle mass, the tightening of her waist, the quiet bloom of her chest and hips beneath the shifting armor plates. It wasn’t just a reveal—it was a transformation, the kind of thing that carved itself into memory and refused to leave.

Nova’s breath caught. Behind her, Captain Ronan muttered something under his breath that never made it past sound. Even the defeated Velrore soldiers, bruised and kneeling in the ash, could only stare in mute disbelief.

And still, Leon watched.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t hide the quiet, razor-edged curiosity in his gaze. His mind was already connecting dots—every odd flicker of aura he’d noticed in their earlier fights, the subtle hesitation in her killing blows, the faint misalignment in her energy patterns. None of it fit a man’s. Not really. Not to someone who looked close enough.

Now he knew why.

When the last ripple of light faded, she stood there—no longer the grizzled warrior the world had seen, but a woman with porcelain skin and eyes like polished onyx. Her lips, soft and tinted with the faintest blush, parted as if to speak... but no words came. Her breathing was shallow, uneven. For once, the woman who had lived in control of her mask didn’t know how to exist without it.

Leon’s voice broke the silence first, smooth and calm.

"I told you," he said quietly. "Even the strongest masks crack when pressed too long."

Alina’s head turned sharply toward him, her now-luminous hair brushing against her cheek. She looked... young. Not fragile, but disarmed. "You..." Her voice wavered. "You knew."

Leon’s mouth curved—not into mockery, not triumph, but something softer. "From the moment you spoke to me, I knew," he replied. "Not because of what you said, but what you didn’t."

The embers crackled around them. A faint gust of wind stirred her hair, carrying the smell of scorched stone and blood.

Alina’s eyes narrowed. "You’re lying."

He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. "You think I’d spend this much effort for a lie?"

For a heartbeat, she didn’t answer. Her gaze flicked away, as if she wanted to say something else, something sharp, but couldn’t find the ground to stand on. When she finally met his eyes again, there was a strange glint there—half defiance, half fear.

"Then tell me," she said softly, "how did you know?"

Leon’s eyes gleamed gold in the dying light.

"At first, I didn’t," he admitted. "When we fought, I sensed something that didn’t match. Your aura was wrong. Too... layered. Too carefully disguised. It’s not the kind of thing someone your supposed age could maintain without flaw. I let it go at first."

He took a step closer. "But then the system whispered something different."

Her breath hitched at the word system.

She froze. He noticed.

He didn’t press it. "It told me there was something hidden inside you," he continued, tone low, deliberate. "A fragment. A force it couldn’t classify. That’s when I realized you weren’t just wearing armor. You were wearing a life."

The color drained from Alina’s face. "You—" She cut herself off, eyes flashing. "You shouldn’t know that."

Leon smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "You think you’re the only one with secrets?"

A faint tremor ran through her hands, and for the first time, her control slipped. "Why didn’t you say anything?" she asked. "If you knew, why pretend all this time?"

"Because," Leon said, stepping forward again until the faint glow from her aura brushed across his chestplate, "I wanted to see how far you’d go to hide it. To see whether the mask was born from fear... or from pain."

She looked away. "You don’t understand."

"Then make me." His tone softened. "Tell me why you’d rather die behind a lie than live as yourself."

Alina clenched her fists. Her body trembled—not from weakness, but from something heavier, something long-buried finally stirring under the surface. She took a small step back. The earth beneath her boots cracked faintly from the restrained power in her aura.

Leon didn’t stop watching. He could tell the battle wasn’t over—it had only shifted inside her.

Her lips parted, trembling with unspoken words. "Do you... have any idea what it’s like," she said slowly, "to live as a weapon? To be built for nothing but war, and then realize you’re not even allowed to exist as what you are?"

The words came with a quiet, bitter laugh. "The world wanted the blade, not the woman holding it."

Leon’s expression flickered. "And so you became both."

"I became neither." Her voice cracked. "Because either one was a weakness I couldn’t afford."

For a long moment, there was only the sound of wind through the burned courtyard. Nova lowered her weapon, eyes softening as she glanced toward Leon. But he didn’t move. His gaze stayed fixed on Alina—on the pain, the anger, and the exhaustion that painted her face.

Finally, Leon spoke again. "You’ve been hiding for decades, haven’t you?"

"Eighty years," she whispered. "Every day of it a performance."

He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. "And yet, here you stand. Still fighting. Still pretending."

"I’m not pretending anymore," she said, her tone sharp but shaking. "You tore the lie away. Are you satisfied now?"

Leon smiled faintly. "No. I’m just... intrigued."

Alina blinked, confused. "Intrigued?"

He stepped closer until the distance between them barely held. "Because even now, your power feels incomplete. Like something—or someone—is holding it back. Tell me, Alina," he said quietly, "what are you really?"

Her eyes glimmered darkly. "A mistake."