Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 548: scene

Scene

"You piece of shit."

The Ben Fireheart froze for a moment, unsure if he had heard correctly. The insult hung in the heated air like a spark ready to ignite something worse.

"What did you just say, Young Master?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

"...Haa." Davis Fireheart let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. "Why am I always bothered by idiots when I just want a quiet life? I don’t need fame, I don’t need status. I just want to live in peace—so why the hell won’t you all leave me alone?"

Swoosh!

A hot gust rippled through the training grounds. The air shimmered as Davis’s Mana flared, the ground beneath him cracking faintly from the pressure. The heat was suffocating, like standing too close to the heart of a forge.

"Lord Second Elder."

The Second Elder turned, startled by the sharpness in Davis’s voice. "What is it?"

"May I start the duel?"

For a split second, the elder thought he had misheard. The way Davis’s tone cut through the air—it didn’t sound like he was asking for permission to duel. It sounded like he was asking for permission to kill.

’Has he gotten stronger again?’ The Second Elder’s expression tightened. ’No... that can’t be. It’s only been a few days since his last duel. Even with monstrous talent, it’s impossible to grow that much in such a short span.’

But still... the Mana emanating from Davis wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t wild or erratic—it was sharp, controlled, terrifyingly efficient.

’Then... was this the strength always there, just hidden?’

The more he observed, the more uneasy he became. Davis’s energy flowed like molten steel—steady, lethal, and unwavering. Despite clearly having less Mana than Ben Fireheart, he wasn’t being pushed back. If anything... it looked like he was the one holding the ground.

’How in the world...?’

Even Ben could feel it. The oppressive wave of heat rolling from Davis wasn’t something he could simply ignore. Their clashing Mana distorted the air itself, ripples of energy warping the space between them.

Ben gritted his teeth. The man he once called the disgrace of the Fireheart Clan—the same fool who’d collapsed vomiting blood in front of him a year ago—was now standing tall, matching him blow for blow.

It was unthinkable.

The Second Elder’s voice rang out, steady and commanding.

"The duel begins—now."

At that cue, Ben drew his wooden sword in one smooth motion, fire flickering across the blade. The Inferno Sword—an emblematic technique of the Fireheart Clan—was an art of swift precision. Its sharp bursts of heat and power perfectly suited Ben’s swift flame style.

He studied Davis carefully, watching his seemingly relaxed stance, his eyes unfocused and lazy.

’What am I even worrying about?’ Ben thought, smirking. ’He looks like he’s using all his strength just to stand straight. After a few exchanges, I’ll cut him down before he even realizes it.’

Confidence returned to him in a flood. Davis had barely begun learning close combat. How could he ever compare? Ben just needed to push forward, strike his vitals, humiliate him completely, and claim Isabella as his prize.

It was the perfect victory.

But a few seconds into the duel... something felt wrong.

’Why can’t I get close to him?’

Sweat rolled down Ben’s cheek. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the shimmering waves of heat distorted everything.

’It’s... this damn heat!’

His mind tried to rationalize it. ’That’s all it is. Just the temperature messing with my movements. There’s no way I’m being pushed back by him. Impossible.’

"Hey."

Ben flinched. Davis’s voice cut through the haze like a blade.

"What are you doing?"

"...What do you mean?" Ben stammered.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You’re not going to attack?"

"It’s common sense," Ben shot back, forcing a smirk, "that in a duel, the stronger one lets the weaker go first."

"Weak? Who? Me?" Davis tilted his head slightly, a faint, mocking grin touching his lips. "Is that why you’re scared?"

Ben’s teeth ground together. Every word scraped at his pride. Why was he hesitating? Why couldn’t he move the way he wanted to?

"You said last time I was bedridden for a month after our duel, right?" Davis asked, cracking his neck slowly. Each pop echoed unnaturally loud, sharp enough to make Ben’s skin crawl.

"...What’s with that all of a sudden?"

"I thought that’d be enough."

"Huh?"

The heat vanished.

In an instant, the inferno that had filled the air flickered out, leaving behind a hollow stillness. The abrupt shift made Ben blink in confusion.

’He... ran out of Mana?’

A smirk tugged at his lips. ’Of course. He must’ve overexerted himself. He can’t maintain that output any longer. Idiot.’

With Davis’s Mana fading, Ben could feel his own flame surge forward again, pressing down on him. The advantage was his. Swift flame arts were built to crush opponents through relentless speed and control. Davis wouldn’t even be able to move, let alone fight back.

’It was all a bluff. Now I’ll finish this.’

But just as he prepared to strike—

"You told me I can go first, right?"

"...What?"

Ben froze. Davis stood before him, calm, expression unreadable. There was no sign of exhaustion. No sign of someone who had run out of energy.

"Let me ask again," Davis said lightly. "I can really go first, right?"

"The stronger person—"

"Right," Davis interrupted, eyes flashing gold. "Then here I go."

And he disappeared.

For an instant, Ben’s instincts screamed. His enhanced vision—trained and sharpened through years of swordsmanship—searched for Davis’s movement. But he was gone.

’He didn’t vanish into the ground... didn’t jump into the air...’

Then there was only one explanation left—

’He’s faster than me—’

Impossible.

The direct lineage of the Fireheart Clan specialized in power, not speed. His own swift flame art existed to counter that very weakness. There was no way Davis could move faster than him.

Pooooow!

"Ughhh!!"