Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 619: An Abundance of Wealth [Part-3]

An Abundance of Wealth [Part-3]

. Then he just stopped moving. He froze.

No he said to himself. Be calm Leon.

The words came out rougher than he meant them to. He took an steady breath in. He wanted to calm down and make his heart beat slower. The storm that was going on inside his chest needed to settle down. He wanted to feel calm and make the words come out nicer. The storm, in his chest was what made the words come out rougher than he meant the words to.

I am a being. I do not behave like some kind of animal that hoards things. Do not start acting crazy over gold like a person who has lost their mind. Gold is a thing it is not that important. I am a being, not some beast that only cares about gold.

He rubbed his hand over his face it was an rough touch like he wanted to make the moment feel right again. The feeling of his skin touching his skin made him feel better. His palm was warm. He could feel his breath moving in and out against his knuckles it was a feeling. For a second that was all that mattered. The feeling of his hand, on his face the warmth of his palm and the sound of his breath that was all there was.

His fingers touched his jaw. A thought came to him. It was a thought but it was sharp and he could not ignore the thought, about his jaw. The thought was really bothering him.

I always forget things it is really annoying. I will try to remember. I keep forgetting. Forgetting is a problem, for me I keep forgetting things.

A small smile came to the corner of his mouth. It was a bit funny, to him and a little bit sad that this was happening. The smile was not an one it was just a small smile that said he was amused and also giving up at the same time.

My soul is like music that comes from the heart of a seven-headed Naga, which’s, like an ancestor of dragons. This Naga is an important part of who I am. I have to admit I am a person. It is something that runs in my family you know it is because of my seven-headed Naga heritage. The seven-headed Naga is a part of my life and it makes me who I am so I am greedy because of my seven-headed Naga ancestors.

He let out a laugh. It was not a happy one. It was more like he was fed up and did not know what to do. The laugh sounded like he was breathing heavily like something was really getting to him. He was laughing, but the sound of the Community Manager laugh was not funny it was more like he was totally frustrated. The laugh of the Manager was a sound that said he had had enough.

"Damn it... almost forgot."

He shook his head fast like that would get the thought out of his mind. Then he let his arms fall down to his sides. He just stood there for a second feeling pretty vulnerable and unsteady.. Then he stood up straight and the weakness that had shown on his face for a moment was gone.

I have had enough of staring. I came to this place for a reason.

His eyes looked up. Moved around the room going past big pillars, dark shadows and a lot of stone until they stopped on the other side of the hall. There a lot of weapons were lined up in neat rows, shining and quiet each one standing like it was waiting for someone to pick it up. Or waiting to decide something, about that person. The weapons were waiting in the hall looking still and quiet like they were waiting for something to happen to the weapons.

"First " he whispered, his voice was really low it was almost like he was saying a prayer "I need a sword."

He took a step forward. The coins under his boots made a crunching sound. It was a sound but not really even. You could hear it clearly in the big empty space. Every time he took a step the sound came back to him. It sounded thin and hollow. It was like the room was listening to the sound of the coins, beneath his boots. The coins crunched again as he took another step forward.

When he got to the part of the store with the weapons something about the air was different. The air felt really cold. It seemed to weigh him down. This place felt special like it was almost holy. The weapon section had a feeling, to it.

The swords did not rest on their pedestals. They were floating above the pedestals held up by magic that you could not see each sword blade floating perfectly still and straight. You could hear a quiet humming noise in the air like the swords were waiting to be used and were holding back their power. The swords were very steady just floating there and the humming noise was, like a music.

At the base of every pedestal lay a small stone tablet.

Leon stopped in front of the sword. The sword had a pitch- blade that looked really elegant in a scary way. It had a curve near the tip that caught a little bit of light. The metal of the sword seemed to be pulsing. Not with light it was more like it was alive. The sword looked like it still remembered what it was like to be in a war. The metal of the sword was pulsing with something that seemed inside it, like the sword was a living thing.

The man reached down. He picked up the tablet. He wanted to use the tablet. The tablet was what he needed to do his work, on the tablet.

Black Crescent Blade — Wielder: Serin of the East Wind.

Deeds: Slain ten Monarch-level warriors.

There are some rules to think about. You need to have a bloodline or a contract to be allowed. The bloodline or contract is necessary.

Leon let out a breath through his nose and lifted an eyebrow. He said "Not bad..."

For a moment he looked at the blade waiting to feel something. He wanted to feel some kind of connection, to the blade like it was a part of him. He was waiting for the blade to make him feel warm inside or to give him a sign that it was special. The blade was just sitting there so he kept looking at it hoping to feel something, anything, from the blade.

There was nothing.

No pull. No recognition. No whisper of fate.

Leon let out a breath and put the tablet back where it was supposed to be. The stone made a clicking sound when it touched its stand. The tablet did not say anything to Leon. It just stayed quiet. Leon turned around. Walked away without saying anything. He slowly made his way to the pedestal. The tablet remained silent. Leon was now standing in front of the pedestal looking at what was, on it.

A cool sword was sitting there. It was silver and very long. The blade of the silver sword was super shiny. It had these special marks on it kind of like a line of ice. These marks, on the silver sword looked like they were made of lightning and they went all the way down the back of the silver sword.

The tablet said

Rift-Slicer — Wielder: Akron the Sundering Knight.

Deeds: Created nine battlefield fissures.

There are some restrictions, on this thing. It is actually forbidden to use it. The last person who used it died because of the things that happened after they used it which is called backlash. The last wielder of this thing died from backlash.

Leon leaned in close and his eyes moved over the words. His lips curled up a little. He looked kind of impressed, but also a little worried. Leon was not sure what to make of the words so he kept looking at them. The words were interesting, to Leon.

"Damn."

This thing was so powerful it could tear the battlefield to pieces. And it was also deadly, to the person who tried to use it. That is really impressive. It is very lethal. This weapon is truly legendary.

Still no pull.

He stood up straight. Took one more look, at the sword. Then he walked past the sword without stopping. The sword was just left there as he went by. He did not seem to care about the sword. He just kept walking. The sword was forgotten.

The third sword was really big and scary it looked like a monument. The fourth sword was completely different it was super thin like a needle. It looked fancy and deadly at the same time. The fifth sword was special because it had a flame, inside it you could see the heat rising up from the edge of the fifth sword.

Each one of these things had a story to tell. The Monarch Realm killers had a story. The Upper Realm warlords had a story too. These were the stories of heroes and tyrants. Their blood and ambition had gotten over the metal. The names of the Monarch Realm killers and the Upper Realm warlords were cut into history. The heroes and tyrants were a part of this history. The Monarch Realm killers and the Upper Realm warlords were famous, for what they did.

Leon felt nothing. That was it. He just did not have any feelings all. Leon was completely empty inside. It was a really strange feeling, for Leon.

No spark of resonance.

No whisper asking him to touch.

The man kept walking. His boots made a noise, on the floor. He walked by one pedestal. Then another. The sound of his boots was really quiet. He just kept going walking by pedestal after pedestal.

Spears that could pierce mountains.

These gauntlets are really strong. Can break shields with just one quick move. The gauntlets have much power that they can smash shields easily.

Bows that could shoot arrows guided by magic these bows were really good at hunting their targets they were like living things. The bows could hunt down their targets and the magic that guided the arrows from these bows made them very good at it. These bows were special because they used magic to guide the arrows and that is what made them so good, at hunting their targets.

Every artifact was really powerful. Each and every one of these artifacts promised to cause a lot of damage if they fell into the hands. The air, around us felt thick and heavy because of all these artifacts.

Everything was impressive.

Everything was terrifying in its own way.

But still— no pull.

Leon let out a breath the kind you make when you are trying not to be annoyed. His shoulders sagged a little. "Great " he said, his lips twisting. "So I came all the way here. None of these people, like Leon?" The words echoed faintly between the racks of old weapons it was like even the old weapons were quietly judging Leon.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand his fingers touching the sweat and nerves. Then he walked to the row. His boots made a scraping sound on the stone floor. It was a sound, in a big room where a lot of famous people were sleeping. The room was filled with sleeping legends. His boots kept scraping against the stone as he moved.

And then—

In the far corner, half hidden behind crates of old banners and sealed scrolls—

A blade waited.

A broad black sword.

Massive, heavy, silent.

It stood there like it had been forgotten by time itself, wrapped in shadow and dust, yet somehow impossible to ignore. The edges glimmered with a dim, ember-like glow, as if heat still lived beneath the metal, refusing to fade.

The moment Leon’s eyes landed on it—

something hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs.

A pull.

Sharp.

Deep.

Primal.

It felt as though invisible chains had hooked into his ribs and dragged him forward, not gently, not kindly, but with a hungry certainty.

His breath stuttered in his throat, chest tightening.

"What the—"

The sword remained perfectly still.

No flare of light.

No hum of power.

No outward sign of life.

And yet it was unmistakable — it was reaching for him.

Not with magic or motion, but with recognition.

Like it knew him.

Like it had been waiting, patient and unyielding, long before he had ever stepped foot in this place.

Leon’s feet moved before his mind caught up. A single slow step carried him closer, drawn by something he didn’t fully understand and didn’t trust. His gaze was locked onto the blade, unblinking, as if looking away would break whatever fragile connection had formed.

His heart began to pound harder, louder, filling his ears.

Thump... thump... thump.

Heat spread through his stomach, coiling tight — not just excitement, not just curiosity, but something older, darker. A predator’s anticipation. A warrior’s instinct. A whisper of blood and steel that didn’t belong to this world.

His fingers twitched—