Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 663 663: Protocol Three!!!

Protocol Three!!!

Another guard spoke.

"Sir. This could be - Enemy attack"

He never finished speaking. The captain stepped in first.

"Enough speculation."

He turned sharply.

"Signal protocol three."

A recruit froze.

"Sir, protocol three means - "

"Do it."

The recruit sprinted.

A shape like a curved bone lay still atop wooden carvings inside the high room.

Faint light traced the runes across it.

A tremor ran through his fingers as he took hold of it.

Facing the large hole, he pressed his lips against it.

Poured mana.

And blew.

HONKKKKKKKKKKK -

A roar burst through the air.

A sound tool unlike any you'd usually see.

A sudden blast of sound, magnified by unseen forces, crashing over rooftops before spilling down alleys and shaking stone facades. The noise rolled like thunder caught in a funnel, bending around corners, pressing against windows long after it passed.

Within seconds -

More horns answered.

HONKKK -

HONKKKK -

HONKKKKKK -

Fires bloomed one by one on the hills of Nagarath.

Soldiers stiffened.

Soldiers at the entrance jerked upright. Suddenly still, like posts driven into stone.

Civilians froze.

Some screamed.

Some dropped baskets.

Falling came first for a few. Then the ground met them where they landed.

A hand caught the soldier's sleeve just past the entrance. The trader stood close, voice low.

"What's happening?!"

Back he went, pushed by the soldier's force.

"Move inside! Now!"

Fear moved fast, slipping through spaces it didn't belong.

Away up north, close to where the city ends, rows of new soldiers moved together through practice moves. The ground shook slightly under their steps, each one following orders without pause.

Sweat-soaked.

Breathing hard.

From up on the platform, Commander Black kept still, hands locked across his chest.

Beside him waited Vice Commander Johny.

A sound tore through the air. One by one, echoes followed close behind.

A noise pulled Johny's attention sideways. His gaze landed hard on the wall.

Focusing in, Commander Black's gaze turned sharp.

Second horn.

Third.

Black didn't hesitate.

"Battle stations."

Recruits froze.

Without warning, it burst forward.

"Form up!"

"Grab shields!"

"Unit leaders, report!"

Finding out wasn't new to Commander Black.

Protocol three.

External force approaching.

Unknown alignment.

Potential threat.

The helmet was snatched up fast. He moved before thinking.

Slid it on.

A dark heavy cloak came off the shelf fast. Then it swung over one shoulder, loose and ready.

"Bring my horse."

A stablehand sprinted.

Footsteps broke the silence as Black moved ahead, each boot hitting soil hard.

Thoughts raced ahead without warning.

Footsteps echoed long before he saw them coming.

Foolish moves always followed warnings, Ronan's voice echoed in his mind.

Skyfall movement.

Noble conspiracies.

Foreign interference.

Something was coming.

That caught him off guard, honestly - way earlier than he'd imagined.

The horse arrived.

A sudden leap carried him onto the horse, settled before the dust could rise.

"Johny!"

"Yes, sir!"

"You hold the grounds. Lock the gates. Prepare reserve formations."

"Yes, sir!"

Facing east, Black guided his horse toward the watchtower area.

Spurred.

Forward surged the horse.

Hooves thundered.

Faster he went, while horn after horn split the air.

Fragments of quiet broke apart when the city exhaled too soon.

From the tower on the east, lookouts followed the movement of incoming troops.

"They're slowing down."

"Why aren't they forming attack lines?"

"They're not spreading out."

"Sir… look at the front."

The leader picked up the glass one more time.

Something caught his eye that he did not expect.

Leading the line of travelers…

Women.

Not one.

Not two.

Many.

All riding confidently.

Armored.

Armed.

Beautiful.

Too beautiful.

A guard spoke under his breath. Women commanding soldiers? That was what he said.

Harrek frowned.

"Those don't move like decorations."

Fog of dirt faded a little when they moved nearer.

Out of the blur, one face stood out more distinctly now.

Different hair colors.

Crimson.

Purple.

Silver.

Green.

Black.

They rode calmly.

No raised weapons.

No aggressive posture.

Following close, troops held their ranks without flaw.

It hit an old soldier then.

"…Those are trained troop formations."

Another soldier squinted.

"But why aren't they aggressive like enemies? Hostile forces usually advance fast and loud. These ones are silent… and perfectly disciplined. Don't you think so, sir?"

A gasp caught in his throat. His gaze snapped open, sharp with surprise.

Water dripped down the tower walls after dark. A single lamp flickered near the stairs.

Then - "So they're friendly?"

"Then why are there no banners?"

"Why are they moving in protocol-level formation?"

Questions piled up.

No answers.

Footsteps drew nearer, the group moving forward without pause.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Not rushing.

Not hiding.

The muscles in his face tightened without a word. A quiet strength showed through his stillness.

"Maintain alert."

Harrek swallowed.

"If these are Leon's people…"

The silence settled after his last word.

"…then we're about to learn something important."

Beneath the streets, folks stayed out of sight.

Shops slammed shut.

Inside, kids were pulled by parents. Quiet feet shuffled across thresholds.

Whispers spread.

"They're attacking!"

"Another war already?!"

"Didn't things just stabilize?!"

Fear rose once more, sharp and sudden.

Frozen in place atop the tower, Harrek kept his eyes on the women leading the way.

Far from the image of conquerors, they stood quietly.

Not a trace of fear showed on their faces.

They looked…

Certain.

A short distance ahead, the caravan drew within a few hundred meters.

No banners raised.

Not a single horn sounded on their part.

Only hoofbeats.

Wheels.

Armor.

Then -

Out of nowhere, a person showed up on the path trailing behind.

A single rider.

Black armor.

Heavy build.

Riding hard toward the watchtower.

Commander Black.

Something lifted inside Harrek. A quiet shift, unlooked for.

"Commander's coming."

The captain nodded.

"Good."

Nearer came Commander Black.

Grime clung to the fabric draped over his shoulders.

Staring ahead, his gaze locked onto the advancing group.

The horse moved slower now. It stepped carefully forward.

Raised a hand.

Now holding up a hand to stop archers moving into place.

Focusing on the viewfinder, his eyes locked ahead.

Still, his face stayed hard.

Yet things shifted anyway.

Slightly.

Very slightly.

"…So that's what it is," he murmured.

Foot by foot, the caravan pressed on. Then came more steps through the dust. Movement never stopped after that.

The air in the streets grew still. People paused, waiting without speaking. A quiet tension settled like dust after a storm.

Forward went Commander Black on his horse, headed for the foot of the watchtower.

Footsteps near him slowed when he stood there. A quiet calm moved through the group.

He dismounted.

Looked up.

"Report."

Over the edge went the tower captain.

"Large caravan. Heavy escort. No hostile posture. Mixed Silver and Black armour n forces. Women leading the front."

Black's eyes narrowed.

"Any banners?"

"No, sir."

Back toward the road, Black's gaze held still.

Dust swirling.

Figures drawing closer.

Stay right there, Black ordered.

"No one fires."

"No one provokes."

He mounted again.

"Open no gates until I confirm."

"Yes, sir!"

Footsteps crunched behind him as he pulled the reins. The animal shifted left, ears twitching at a distant sound.

Faster now, he moved ahead to the closest edge post.

Toward the unknown.

Toward what moved closer.

A hush hung over Nagareth, thin as cracked ice. Stillness held its breath beneath an uncertain sky.