Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 610 610: Open the Cell [Part-2]

Open the Cell [Part-2]

There he stood, just short of Leon, head tipping low in a long bow.

"Sire. I am the Warden of Nagareth's central prison. I was told you requested access to this cell."

For a moment, Leon watched. Built solid, like stone. Shoulders pulled in, ready. Not someone who gives way when pushed.

Good.

"Open the door," Leon said.

One beat passed before he moved. Not because he refused orders, yet worry pressed harder than duty. A twitch ran through his hand, fingers curling slow, joints turning pale under skin.

"Sire… I must warn you. These three are - "

Something about Leon's stare stopped thoughts before they could form. Not angry - just empty of patience for reasons. Half-spoken explanations faded, useless under that quiet weight. The air between them held nothing but silence doing its work.

A quiet breath slipped out through his nostrils, steady despite the tension. The muscles along his jaw locked tight.

"Understood."

From his belt came the slow rattle of metal. His fingers found the ring, pulled it free. Three keys dangled, none newer than memory allows. Iron shaped by time now cold and dense in hand. A sound like stone brushing stone followed each small movement. The darkest one carried marks cut deep. Those lines glowed without flame when shadow touched them.

Right away, Leon noticed it. Huh.

Into the lock went the key, pushed by the warden. It hesitated at first - tight, like it meant to refuse - until finally giving way with a low, rough sound of metal turning.

A low groan came from the iron hinges as the gate lurched forward, its weight pulling the chains down. Rough links grated on rock, a sound like bones shifting under dirt. Each movement stirred silence that had held too long. The opening widened slowly, as if waking from centuries of stillness.

A small smile touched Leon's lips. He said the words quietly

He stepped inside.

Far back, the warden came next, then the guard - each moving slow, careful not to crowd him, yet afraid of falling too far behind. Silence made every footstep echo like it didn't belong.

Footsteps faded behind him. That past held nothing worth keeping.

A strange chill hung in the cell's air, sharp and unwelcome. Heavy, almost wet, it clung instead of flowed. Against his arms, the cold acted like pressure from hands that weren't there. Light from the hall crawled only so far, stopping short at stone columns. Prisoners sat beyond, swallowed by dark, edges blurred - not solid but guesses made of dimness.

Footsteps slowed as Leon came to rest several paces away from the central pillar.

Faint, a gasp broke the black - harsh, parched - as if air dragged itself over ancient ribs.

A whisper came first, then broke into speech. It scraped along the walls like stone on bone. Old. Tired. Full of years it should have left behind. The air stilled when it spoke.

"Kid."

Up came the old man's head. A soft crack sounded when he pushed upright, chains murmuring over cold metal. Light barely touched his gaze - two dim flickers buried in shadow.

"Who are you," he rasped, lips barely parting, "and why the hell are you here?"

His eyes locked on the elder's gaze - then Leon showed his teeth. Cold. Sharp. A grin like a blade pulled slow from shadow.

"I'm Leon Nagareth," he said casually. "And I am the king of this land."

One breath passed, then stillness took hold - only water moving, drop by drop. From deep within the shadows, another fall broke the quiet, sharp like pulse in ears.

Shoulders shaking like it pained him, the old man let loose a rough chuckle. A strained noise escaped, each breath heavy, as though laughter had become something foreign.

"Hah… so that bastard Gary had a son after all."

His grin dropped like a stone. The light left his face fast.

"I'm not that idiot's son."

A slight tilt of his head changed everything. That tiny move made him seem more intense. Light caught those gold eyes, turning them dangerous in the dark. They sliced through shadows like something sharp pulled free.

"I'm his rival."

A flicker of surprise touched each prisoner's expression - so slight a regular guard would miss it, yet obvious enough to sting Leon's awareness. Breath patterns changed. Gaze edges turned keener, stripped of blank hopelessness, beginning instead to trace his shape, test his presence, probe for soft spots.

A slight smile tugged at his mouth as Leon raised one eyebrow.

He blinked. After that, voice tipping sideways, "So you agree now - can't you notice how much they look alike?"

Leon seemed slightly annoyed as he said, "There isn't one."

Iron clinked soft when the man by the left pillar moved, a quiet grunt rolling from him like distant thunder. He did not believe it.

"So… you're telling us you're not his blood. Fine. We'll agree. Then why are you here? Why walk into our cage?"

Movement started small - Leon lifted one shoulder like it weighed nothing. The ease didn't fit what hung between them.

"Curiosity."

Frost seemed to gather in their eyes when they looked his way, cold enough to chill the air by just one breath.

A quiet laugh slipped out, sharp and tired. What exactly do you want to know?

A slight edge crept into Leon's grin - not much, only what it took to seem sharp. The air around his mouth tightened, like tension finding its way through skin.

"Whether you three are fools… or suicidally brave."

A low sound came from the man tied to the pillar on the right, words heavy with anger he could not release.

"Are you mocking us, brat?"

"If you came here to play word games," the old man snapped, chains clinking as he leaned forward, "then get the hell out. We don't talk to children."

Foot by foot, he held his ground.

His eyes stayed wide open, not a single flicker. Stillness held his face like stone.

A quiet look on his face, yet somehow tender - then came the words, spoken so softly they carried a sharper edge.

"When I say I'm curious," Leon said, "I mean I want to know why three Grandmasters marched straight at a Monarch Realm cultivator like Gary."

A hush fell over the captives. Their breath caught, held tight. A man gulped - noise sharp in that stillness. Movement followed: a slight drag, iron brushing rock. The grating noise stretched on, thin and cold, like something meant to be remembered.

A flicker of movement came from Leon's hand, just a lift, then his index finger pressed empty space, steady like someone marking seconds till what must come. One prisoner after another caught his gaze, each held under that quiet inspection, their layers undone by silence alone.

"Because I heard the story," Leon continued, calm as a blade laid against skin. "You tried to assassinate that idiot. You knew he was a Monarch Realm cultivator. You knew the gap."

A slight turn of his head, like maybe he cared. Or nearly did.

"You still went."

One after another, his gaze moved across their faces - silent, sharp, seeing past skin like it wasn't there. Each look lingered just long enough to feel too much.

One step came next, slow, chosen with care. Sharp sounds rose once more - chains trembling like something afraid.

"So, tell me," Leon said, his words slipping into a lower register, thicker now, heavier somehow -

"was its money… bounty… professional duty… or vengeance?"

Silence hung thick between them. Down the skin of their cheeks ran trails of sweat cutting through grime. His teeth groaned under the pressure as one gripped his jaw shut.

Leon smiled.

"Which fuel pushed you to throw your lives away?"