Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 512: The Command of Ash and Oath

The Command of Ash and Oath

The torches hissed faintly as the air shifted.

Leon’s voice had already silenced the room, but now it gripped it — heavy, magnetic, unyielding. The word "Come forward" hung in the still air like an echo that refused to fade.

Captain Black stepped out from the line. His boots struck the marble floor with the slow certainty of a man used to battle, not ceremony. Shadows rippled across his face — hard, chiseled features framed by short, dark hair streaked faintly with gray at the temples.

He knelt, one fist to his chest, eyes lowered.

"My lord."

Leon didn’t move at first. He studied him in silence — the commander who had followed him through fire and ruin, who’d fought beside him when Nagareth burned and the heavens turned red.

Then Leon stepped closer, each footfall soft but deliberate, the kind that made sound bend around him. The light caught his face — gold and shadow crossing his sharp features, eyes like molten steel.

"Captain Black," Leon began quietly. "You’ve walked through hell under my banner. You’ve seen this land die and still kept your sword raised. You’ve led men when hope was ash."

Black said nothing, but his throat tightened faintly. His right hand, still pressed to his chest, trembled once before steadying again.

Leon’s gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "You are no longer just a captain."

A flicker of confusion touched Black’s eyes.

Leon continued, his voice low, filled with that deep steadiness that made men follow him without question.

"From this night forth, I name you Commander of the Kingdom of Nagareth."

The words hit like thunder in the silent hall.

Even the torches seemed to flare higher.

Johny, Ronan, and Alina all turned sharply toward Leon — shock and awe mingling in their faces.

Black’s head jerked up slightly, eyes widening. "My lord—"

Leon raised a hand, stopping him with a faint smile. "You will oversee all military operations under my reign. The rebuilding of our army. The expansion into the borderlands. The defense of this kingdom. All of it — will move at your command."

He paused. "You will choose those worthy. Bring men and women you trust under your wing. Train them to carry the name Nagareth not as soldiers — but as guardians."

Black inhaled sharply, the weight of it sinking in. "Sire... I am not certain I—"

"You are certain," Leon interrupted, his tone firm but warm. "You’ve already done it. You just did it without the title."

For a moment, Captain Black didn’t move. Then, slowly, he bowed his head lower, pressing his fist hard against his chest.

"Then I swear," he said, voice rough, "my life and sword are yours. Until the land no longer remembers my name."

Leon smiled faintly. "No. Until it does."

A flicker of emotion crossed Black’s face — gratitude, pride, disbelief, all tangled together. He straightened slowly, meeting Leon’s eyes directly.

"I will not fail you, my king."

The faintest ghost of a smile curved Leon’s lips. "I know you won’t."

Behind him, Alina’s eyes glimmered faintly in the torchlight. She looked at Leon with something unreadable — respect laced with quiet admiration. Nova, standing a step back, crossed her arms lightly, her gaze softening for a heartbeat as she watched the exchange.

Leon turned his head slightly. "Vice-Captain Johny."

Johny stepped forward, startled but composed. "Sire."

"You have proven loyalty second to none," Leon said. "You’ve fought beside Black as his shadow, his shield. From this moment, you will serve as Vice Commander of Nagareth — his right hand."

Johny froze, eyes widening, before he dropped to one knee.

"I... I’m honored, sire."

Leon looked down at him with quiet approval. "Be honored, but never satisfied. Nagareth’s new world will need discipline, not pride."

Johny bowed deeper. "Understood."

The two men rose — Black and Johny — and turned to face Leon together. For the first time, they looked not like soldiers standing before a ruler, but like pillars of a kingdom reborn.

The air carried a strange stillness. The kind that followed moments that changed everything.

Leon’s expression softened slightly, though his voice remained firm.

"This court will see many changes. There will be kingdoms that kneel, others that resist. Blood will come again. But this time," he looked directly at Black, "it will be by choice — our choice. Not chaos. Not history repeating itself."

Captain Black met his gaze, something fierce sparking behind his composed exterior. "Then we’ll carve that choice into stone, sire."

Leon’s smile deepened. "That’s why I chose you."

The two men stood facing each other — commander and king — and for that moment, the hall felt less empty, as if the ghosts that once haunted Nagareth had paused their whispers.

Leon stepped back toward the throne, his robe brushing softly against the marble. His gaze swept the hall again — Alina’s poised stillness, Nova’s quiet observation, the soldiers’ silent awe.

"Let it be known," Leon declared, his voice rising just enough to echo through the chamber, "that this night, the army of Nagareth breathes again. From ash and ruin, from broken swords and buried names — we rise. Not to conquer blindly, but to rule with intent. To bring order where chaos bred."

His eyes locked on Black once more. "Commander Black, your first duty begins at dawn. Choose your officers. Ready the barracks. And prepare our reach beyond these walls."

Black saluted sharply. "By your will, my king."

Leon’s tone softened slightly as he added, almost to himself, "This kingdom will not be built on fear. But on faith — faith in what we lost, and what we can still become."

For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

Only the torches swayed, and the sound of the wind whispered through the high archways, carrying faint embers of warmth and grief alike.

Leon exhaled slowly, his shoulders easing. The room was still charged — alive — yet under control, molded by his will. His eyes flickered once more across those who remained.

And then his gaze fell on Ronan.

Ronan, quiet until now, stood a few steps behind the others — gray-black hair catching the dim light, his steady posture betraying nothing of the thoughts running beneath.

Leon’s lips curved faintly. "Ronan."

Ronan straightened, stepping forward. "My lord."

Leon looked at him for a long moment, saying nothing. There was warmth there — an old trust that didn’t need words.

A small smile touched Leon’s mouth. "Come here."