Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 613 613: Curiosity!!!

Curiosity!!!

Out he came from the dark mouth of the jail, air catching short in his chest.

A hint of old fire hung in Vel's city air, a leftover whisper from Leon's fight long past - not quite fresh, never clean. Yet after the thick wet hush indoors, the open breath above ground stung just right.

The heavy metal door closed with a hollow bang at his back.

Even now… the words kept ringing.

It's not about the actual words.

The tone.

Out here, a wobble in their stance - yet they stand. Not quite right, these postures, but unshaken too. Each step forward feels like a misstep that somehow holds. Their balance is wrong by most rules. Still, it carries them. Something cracked, yet still moving. A rhythm out of tune keeps going anyway.

A twitch ran through Leon's back as he shifted his weight. One sharp roll loosened the tightness, just slightly.

What's making me stuck on this person right now? Maybe it's just habit pulling me back without warning.

He didn't know.

Footsteps slowed when he realized how much stronger it had become.

A hush lived inside many people's wonder.

But in Leon?

It had teeth.

Sunlight reached his face while he stood on the stone stairs, not moving. It pressed against his skin like a quiet nudge, soft yet firm. The sky stayed bright above, fixed in its deep blue hold. Even so, daylight thinned now, slanting down to drag shadows long and slow over the ground. Figures walked far off - guards - their metal suits sighing between strides. They kept their distance, never turning toward him.

Breathing out took time, Leon's gaze fixed on empty space, caught in the leftover hum from beyond the heavy door. Fear never showed up there. Pleading stayed absent too. Only a lopsided kind of sureness lingered, like they were holding secrets untouched by daylight.

A shadow of time slipped away… Leon let the words crawl out low.

It annoyed him.

It wasn't the passing of time - he knew that would come - but how little he'd filled it with anything real. Hours belonging to rulers vanish into scrolls, requests, gatherings where voices blend into paper trails. Today, he skipped much of it. Still, hollow air pressed against his ribs. Quiet restlessness slips in slow, then stirs up every nerve.

He needed something.

Anything.

A flicker that held him steady.

A quiet tremor ran through his hands, like they remembered a shape missing from his grip. One by one, the muscles jumped without permission. Not quite still, never settling. As though some unseen weight should've been held. Empty air where effort landed.

A shape formed in his mind, sharp out of nowhere. One moment empty, next filled with light.

Crimson Lotus Sword Art.

A flicker of heat stayed curled within, untouched almost, hardly tried out. It wasn't about desire - he had plenty - just no proper instrument at hand. Any ordinary sword wouldn't do. What he needed must hold up under raw power, steady when the method finally surged through. Built to last. Able to survive the moment skill woke fully.

A grin crept across his face, uneven and unhurried.

"Vellore Treasury…" he murmured. "There has to be a good blade in there."

Right then, as the words came out, they sounded true. He spoke them, and something inside just knew.

He spun around. Just a couple paces back, Aden was talking low with the warden - words tight, air tense. Close by stood the younger guard, stiff and watchful, like someone waiting out a storm in an open field. Nowhere felt safe. No clear path forward.

Something shifted in Leon's gaze - moving slow - until it landed on Aden.

A stillness settled into that glance, one that pulled shoulders back even when minds didn't notice. It touched Aden just before he registered Leon's eyes landing on him.

That one, Leon remarked, raising his arm toward the general without much effort. Off you go now - your work waits. This conversation ends with me walking away

For a split second, Aden froze, eyes widening slightly before he regained composure. Down went his head in deference, metal plates whispering against one another. "Your wish is my duty," he said, voice flat yet edged with quiet release. Not once did doubt color his words - only compliance, and something lighter beneath, like air finally let loose.

Off to the side, Leon's gaze snagged on someone else entirely. Not the one walking out. The man near the wall held still now, though seconds before he'd twitched nonstop, like a rodent frozen mid-sprint under a lamp.

"You - nervous guy."

A sudden jerk ran through the guard, making his helmet shake loose. Up straight he shot, back rigid like iron wire, voice cracking - "Y-Yes, sire!" Sweat crept slow from his brow, sliding sideways across skin.

A lopsided grin pulled one corner of Leon's lips - more teasing than mean. "Breathe," he said, eyes glinting. "You're standing there like your legs might give out."

The air caught in his throat, each breath sharp like glass. Nothing helped.

"Come with me," Leon continued, already turning as if the matter were settled. "You're going to lead me to the treasury. I want to take a look around."

The guard's eyes stretched open, nearly popping. "W-What?"

A shadow crossed Leon's face as he turned, just slightly. His eyebrow rose - not fast - like something dark had caught his attention. The words came low: "You heard me."

"N-No, sir! Wait - yes - it's - oh - " The man stammered, jerking upright like a puppet yanked by strings. His heels almost slapped shut. "Right here, sir! Come this way, King!"

A quiet laugh escaped Leon, caught off guard by his own smile. A small dip of his head followed, nearly gentle. "Now then. Show the way."

Feet shifting first, the guard pivoted, knees unsteady in a way that gave everything away before he stepped into the hallway. Behind him, Leon moved without rush, arms crossed at the spine, body angled relaxed - like a walk among trees, not beneath stone walls where royalty locks away its secrets.

For just a moment, Aden stayed where he was, eyes on Leon walking away, a quiet frown shaping his face. Then, without hurry, he moved back to stand near the warden once more.

Footsteps faded behind him as Leon moved forward without turning around.

Elsewhere, his mind had begun to wander.

The prison.

Those three men.

That moment their eyes locked, steady, unafraid. Stillness held between them, no look away. A quiet challenge passing in silence. Nothing broken by hesitation. Just presence, firm and clear.

That laugh. Real laughter. From them. When his words touched on dying.

Fear sits heavy when laughter comes too late.

Still without an answer. This gap in knowing gnawed, sudden and raw, much like a splinter buried deep inside thought. Not fear - Leon never slipped into that - but near enough to sting. The men did not seem lost or wild. Instead… fixed. Such sureness, out here, carries risk.

Yet time sat still. Patience lingered nearby.

A restlessness pulled him, just then. Not thirst. Not victory. But edges - sharp, still, waiting. Metal that listens. Control like breath held too long. A hush where skill might answer.

Sword art.

A proper blade.

A door opens when you try what's unfamiliar.

Down the hall he went, brushing off a quiet dread while trailing the jumpy guard. That guy looked over his shoulder again and again, stiff across the upper back, like maybe Leon might snap - either decision or mood - without warning. Boots clacked on cold stone, light from outside fading bit by bit as shadowed wings pulled them inward. Each corner bent them further from sky and breeze, sinking toward the secret tunnels beneath Vellore.

Tucked behind the vault's quiet heart.

Heavy air hung in that place, cool against the skin, thick with traces of ancient spells and things never spoken aloud. Torch flames flickered low, hushed somehow, like they understood the weight of standing there.

A small smile tugged at Leon's lips, just for a moment.

The match started fresh. A different round kicked off. Play began again under new rules. Another session unfolded quietly.