Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 614: The Path to the Treasury

The Path to the Treasury

Sunlight spilled low across the palace yards, golden hush washing over roof tiles while dusk leaned closer. Underfoot, shade pooled unevenly, shifting beneath Leon’s steps as the soldier guided the way.

Stillness filled the halls, thick enough to weigh down each step. Not fear exactly - more like waiting. The air itself seemed paused, aware of one man walking where power lives. His name alone changed how shadows fell.

Footsteps echoed as they moved through the first courtyard.

Under the glow, the smooth stone floor stretched out, light-colored, almost soft in warmth. Usually soldiers filled each edge of the space, yet now just a handful remained - standing like posts, backs rigid, watching Leon with tension they held tight inside. A couple made effort to stare elsewhere. Still, some failed. Their eyes drifted toward him again and again, pulled without choice. Quietness settled where noise once lived.

Something shifted behind him. Not sound exactly, but absence - like breath held too long. Stillness pooled where movement had been. Air thickened, pressing close against his back. A presence announced itself through silence alone. One foot moved after another, steady - not slow, never rushed. Confidence lived in the rhythm. Watching started the moment he stepped forward, yet his pace stayed unchanged. Fabric followed motion, lifting slightly before falling again. It grazed skin beneath with quiet insistence, almost alive.

Every few steps, the guard leading him gulped down a swallow, the noise sharp against the quiet. Though the air stayed cool, sweat stuck to his temple.

Footsteps rang out sharp, as though stone walls leaned in close to hear. A flicker ran through his hands, restless without reason, while his eyes darted down the hall - almost hoping the corridor would twist into something new, anything but that door.

Footsteps echoed as they moved beyond the second open space.

A hush spread through the open area, slow and low. Curving stone trails wound beside neat rows of bushes - damp along the rims from night’s moisture. A sound of flowing liquid lingered nearby, calm even as tightness moved just beyond its reach.

A fountain stood here, water spilling down like soft light under the evening glow. Vines with roses curled around metal edges, releasing a quiet sweetness into the air. Eyes passing right over, Leon moved without pause. Ahead waited walls few could name from within, known to almost no one across the land.

Away drifted the beauty, much like art left on a wall where footsteps pass without pause. His jaw stayed firm; his gaze did not waver. What came next weighed heavier than petals, brighter days, or comforts designed to calm.

His breath came quicker now. The air between each inhale grew thinner.

Something caught, ever so briefly. Yet Leon saw it. Fear makes noise - a beat that sticks if you’ve heard enough fights, too many lies. The man aimed to cover his edge, still pressure stayed on him tight as clothes worn long.

Ahead lay the third yard - tighter in space, hushed, edged by stone lamps just starting to flicker under dimming light. A thin wind moved, touching his coat sleeve, bringing traces of aged timber and smooth iron. Behind every shadow stood stillness.

This place carried a weight he hadn’t known before. Not quiet from calm - but the hush of things hidden, pressed down and left undisturbed. Light from the lanterns moved slow, almost cautious, like it feared stirring something better left still.

There it stood, just like that.

A form unlike anything soft or pleasing - dense, unshifting, absolute. Not nestled but placed between palace halves - set apart, nearly on purpose unseen - the vault rose. Built from thick rock and old silence, its top etched with twisting lines, its sides threaded through with mana-rich seams glowing low, as if night sky had leaked into the stone.

His steps dropped off, not on purpose.

Almost tripping, the guard next to him skidded slightly when his steps faltered under the abrupt shift. Regaining balance, he pulled upright just as fast, eyes darting toward Leon - brief, wary, like something had gone wrong without warning.

Heavy silence hung above the treasury doors. It wasn’t threat you could name - no steel showing, no footsteps circling - just a thick kind of stillness. Movement had stopped. Rules seemed bent. Only two figures stood near the entrance. Their presence replaced any need for barriers.

Over by the huge doors they waited, ancient figures frozen in place. Dull metal clung to their bodies, worn down like stone after years of wind. Deep grooves ran across their skin, but their gaze stayed clear, locked ahead. Not a single movement gave away thought or breath. As Leon stepped closer, silence answered - no nod, no glance, nothing. Could’ve sworn they grew from those walls themselves, shaped by time and left standing.

Felt it, the young guard did. Noticed the shift before anyone spoke.

Tension pulled at his shoulders. Fingers jerked - just once - before sliding slowly behind him, gripped hard like they belonged cuffed there. Fear traced a narrow path along his jawline, tightening every muscle beneath. The lump in his throat rose, then fell.

A hush settled. Just then, air slipped across rock, soft as a breath. Stillness held everything together.

Then he halted.

Three meters away from the door, he came to a halt.

"My sire..." he whispered, voice cracking just a bit. He bowed low - so low it didn’t look like respect; it looked like survival. "I... am not allowed to step any closer. Low-ranked guards aren’t permitted beyond this point. It is the rule laid down by the First King of Vel. Only the oldest and most elite guards may stand near the treasury."

A flicker of surprise lifted one brow as his gaze turned keener. His look changed fast, locking on like something just shifted.

Right away, the guard felt panic, his hands trembling. Suddenly he froze, fingers unsteady.

"L-Lord, please don’t misunderstand," he rushed out, words tumbling over each other. "It’s not that I mean disrespect... It’s simply - these are the rules. I’m too low-ranking. I’m not even allowed to speak too loudly here." His voice thinned to a nervous breath. "If I stepped inside... I would be violating royal law."

Silence came first. Then Leon stared - at the rigid spine, the tight fists, the slow inhale after inhale, each one careful, as if running out too soon. Something deeper than dread lived inside that body, worn into place by years of doing what he was told. It showed in how still he stayed, even when no one was watching. A lifetime had shaped it, passed down without words.

No lie.

No hidden intention.

Beyond the shadow of a law more ancient than his grandfather’s bones.

A quiet breath slipped out through Leon’s nostrils, long and steady. The tightness in his upper back began to loosen.

The sound of metal touching softly faded into silence, while the quiet hum of the vault grew thin. One breath held time still - he stayed motionless, rooted, steady - as if emerging onto calm ground after weather had passed.

"Got it," he replied, voice level - no chill, no warmth, simply even. Resting easy now matters less. What you gave was enough

A quiet tone held no blame. It carried nothing that sounded like approval. What came through stood bare, oddly calming in its honesty.

A wave of calm washed over the guard, his body sinking as if released by invisible strings. He stood there gasping nearly, a man finally drawing air after minutes underwater.

Low light caught the edge of his armor when he bent down, voice soft like worn cloth. Pardon me, sir, came the words, barely louder than breath. The man’s head sank until metal almost kissed cold rock below. He stood there, shrinking, as though hoping the ground might swallow him whole.