Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 482: Chapter

Under the Moon of Ashes

The courtyard was gone. Only a crater remained — a jagged wound carved into the earth. Smoke drifted from its edges, curling into the still night like the breath of a dying beast. The moon hung low, pale and cold, spilling its light across the ruins. Broken stone shimmered faintly, dust dancing where once there had been walls, towers, life.

Two figures stood at the center.

One knelt. One remained standing.

The kneeling man was Aden. His armor, once a proud silver etched with the crest of Vellore, was cracked and blackened, its edges warped by flame. Blood soaked his chestplate, dripping down the engraved ridges to the dirt below. His tied grey-white hair had come undone, strands falling across his face as he coughed, spitting a thin stream of crimson. His eyes burned with exhaustion and disbelief — the gaze of a man who had lived through too many wars and was finally staring at the wall he couldn’t climb.

Across from him stood Leon.

He wasn’t untouched by battle. His coat hung in tatters, streaked with soot and blood. A shallow cut ran across his cheek, another along his forearm, but his stance didn’t waver. His golden eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the moonlight like molten metal. Every breath he drew came heavy, yet steady — the controlled breathing of someone who refused to show weakness.

He looked down at Aden — not with arrogance, not with cruelty, but with the quiet composure of someone who already knew how this would end.

"I told you," Leon said, his voice low, edged with exhaustion. "Sir Aden, if you fight me... you lose. And now—" his gaze hardened, "—you have."

Aden’s shoulders trembled. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, the blade cracked and trembling with the last flickers of his aura. He raised his head slowly, pain cutting across his face.

"Not yet..." he rasped. "Not until I decide it’s over."

Leon exhaled through his nose, almost a sigh. "You don’t know when to quit, do you?"

The older knight forced a smirk, though his lips were bloodied. "That’s... the curse of men like me. We only stop when the world forces us to."

He pressed a palm into the ground, pushing himself upright. The motion made him grunt, veins bulging against his neck. The ground beneath him cracked, his boots sliding on loose rubble.

Leon’s expression shifted — something between respect and pity. He could feel it, even now. The sheer endurance, the unyielding will that had made Aden a legend among the knights of Vellore. Even after the last blow — that last punch laced with Leon’s new soul-infused power — Aden still refused to bow completely.

"Still standing," Leon murmured. "You’re stronger than most men I’ve met."

Aden laughed — a dry, rasping sound that turned into another cough. "And you... are not the boy I thought you were."

Leon tilted his head.

"When this fight began," Aden said, his voice hoarse but steady, "I saw a child — drunk on power, reckless, arrogant. But now..." He lifted his eyes, meeting Leon’s glowing gaze. "Now I see the backbone behind that arrogance. You’ve earned it."

The faintest ghost of a smile touched Leon’s mouth. "That’s good to hear — from the man they call Vellore’s first wall."

Aden’s breath hitched, his grip loosening around his sword. "And you... you’re the first warrior to ever make me kneel."

Leon took a step forward, boots crunching over debris. "Then remember that when you rebuild. You don’t have to die here."

Aden’s eyes flickered — pride, pain, and something close to grief. He swallowed, then whispered, "No. I don’t rebuild. Men like me don’t start over... we end things."

The air changed.

A pulse of violet energy rippled out from Aden’s body, warping the dust and heat around him. The temperature dropped sharply; even the flames that had survived the clash began to flicker and die.

Leon’s golden light dimmed slightly, his expression turning grim. "Don’t do it."

Aden’s eyes glowed purple, the color deepening into black at the edges. "You don’t understand," he said, his tone eerily calm. "If I can’t win... I’ll make sure nothing here survives to claim victory."

Leon’s muscles tightened. "You’re going to detonate your own soul."

"I’d rather burn out than kneel before a boy." Aden smiled faintly — sad, almost nostalgic. "That’s what old soldiers do."

Leon’s voice hardened. "You’ll destroy everything. Your men, your home, your city. You call yourself their protector?"

Aden’s laugh was soft, but broken. "I failed to protect it anyway."

Leon clenched his fist, his aura flaring briefly — golden, edged with violet shadow. "You think this is how honor works? You think death makes you right?"

The knight’s body shook, arcs of violet lightning crawling across his armor as cracks of energy tore open the ground beneath him. His sword began to hum, the air screaming around it as his core began to unravel.

Leon’s mind raced. If Aden detonated, the entire fortress would vanish. He could survive it, maybe — the divine artifact embedded within him could shield his body for a moment. But every soldier in Vellore would die.

He cursed under his breath. Think, Leon. Think.

Then Aden’s aura spiked.

"Stop!" Leon roared, throwing a hand forward. "Aden!"

The knight looked up, face pale but eyes bright with defiance. "You have no right to command me, boy."

"I’m not commanding you." Leon’s voice cracked, then steadied. "I’m asking you."

That gave the old warrior pause.

"You’ve spent your whole life fighting for these people," Leon said. "And now you’ll kill them all to prove what? That your pride’s worth more than their lives?"

Aden’s jaw clenched, his body trembling as the energy around him swelled.

Then —

"Sir Aden!"

A voice cut through the chaos.

From the shattered archway, figures emerged through the smoke. Nova stood at the front, black hair whipped by the hot wind, her green eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Behind her came Captain Black Johnny, Rona, and dozens of Leon’s men — along with what remained of Vellore’s army.

Hundreds of soldiers. Armor dented, banners torn, some still bleeding, some barely standing — but all of them were there.

And every one of them dropped to one knee.

The ground trembled as the collective motion echoed through the ruins.

Aden froze.

He turned his head slowly, his vision swimming from pain and exhaustion. The sight broke something deep within him. Men who had once marched under his command — men he had trained, fought beside, bled for — now knelt before his enemy.