Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 665: Stand down!

Stand down!

"Stand down from combat posture," he said

A hush broke apart as people spoke at once, their words tangled in shock.

"Sir?"

"Commander, they’re still approaching!"

Black turned.

Through them went his stare.

"They’re not invaders."

Silence fell.

One look at their faces told him something was off. So he asked, his brow furrowed, "If not that, then what exactly do you claim to be?"

A small curve touched Black’s lips. The hint of a smile showed there.

"They’re ours."

Shock rippled outward.

"Ours?"

"You mean - "

Out loud, Black let his words rise a little. He didn’t shout - just made sure they traveled.

"Those leading the caravan are King Leon’s wives. The escort is Silver City and Blackthorn. You’re looking at the queens of this kingdom."

A silence fell. Not even a breath broke it.

Then -

"Queens...?"

"As in - plural?"

"They don’t look hostile..."

Murmurs spread fast.

Black snapped, "Enough. Relax your formations. No one raises a weapon. No one provokes. Gates will open on my command."

"Yes, sir!"

Without warning, his body swung around, a finger aimed toward five fresh faces frozen by the roadblock.

Fingers aimed at five figures. You lot shift now, the man said. His voice cut through the quiet, sharp like stone on glass

They stiffened.

"Ride to every watchtower. Deliver my orders."

"Yes, sir!"

"Stand down hostile protocols. No arrows. No spells. Open the city gates."

Their eyes widened.

"And inform the palace."

Black’s voice lowered.

"The queens are arriving."

Fear gripped each of them as they swallowed deeply, heads dipping together without a word passing between.

"Yes, Commander!"

They ran.

A short while after, another blast echoed beyond the stone barriers.

Not sharp.

Not urgent.

A low sound stretching out could mean just a single thing.

Stand down.

Fingers uncurled from sword handles in Nagarath. Arrows dipped toward dirt as bow arms sagged. Metal rims of shields peeled away from clenched palms.

Fear slipped from the streets, seeping away as if pulled by unseen cracks in the ground.

Foot in the stirrup, he swung up onto the saddle once more.

"Make sure the reception is respectful," he added to the checkpoint head. "They are royalty."

"Yes, Commander."

Black spurred forward.

Heading straight for those coming closer.

He moved closer to the women who’d shift everything just by stepping inside. Their arrival alone remade the streets before they even walked them.

--------------

Far across the pavement, movement pushes forward - wagons creeping ahead. A different path reveals it, slow yet steady. Distance blurs shapes but not intent. Dust rises where wheels roll, unchecked. Observation happens without sound. Each step taken echoes nothing. Stillness watches motion from afar.

Floating above the ramparts, colors snapped awake under dawn’s touch. Rising slow behind them, stone pillars stood like sentinels carved from time itself. Sunlight traced each jagged line, then paused where metal met sky - the emblem of the Seven-Headed Golden Naga burning bright, old eyes watching without blinking.

Beneath her, the saddle groaned - just a little - as Aria shifted ahead. Her gaze moved slow, following the outline of the place she knew too well.

"We are nearly there," she said. The city could be seen completely now. Her voice stayed calm, yet carried a soft kind of sureness

Her eyes stayed fixed on the distant edge of the world as she gave a small nod. "Yes." Just one word came out - quiet, yet full of weight.

Crack went Rias’s neck, a loud snap cutting through the quiet like she couldn’t wait anymore. Fine - pretending to be cool was over

Laughter spilled out of Syra, bright and loose. "Pretending isn’t something you do," she said

Kyra smirked, arms folded loosely. "You just threaten the world until it cooperates."

A sharp smile cut across Rias’s face. That approach works

Fingers rose slow toward her brow, blocking the sun as she studied what lay down the path. A slight change came over her stance - quiet, watchful.

"...Someone’s coming."

The air changed.

Something shifted in the air. Voices stopped, cut short by held breaths. From up ahead, near where the road narrowed into guarded passage, movement appeared. One figure on horseback came fast, closing ground without pause. Metal plating glinted dully under uneven sun, each step forward flashing cold reflections. Behind him fabric tore through wind, dark and untamed. He sat straight, too still - an unmistakable edge to his stance.

Cynthia squinted, her voice low. Soldier

Fingers hovered by the sword’s grip, Tsubaki edging nearer. Crouched low now - still not pulling steel.

A soft motion began as Rias raised her arm.

"Halt."

Without delay, the group moved together. All of it came to a halt at once.

Footsteps left the air thick behind them. The ground held its breath just a moment longer.

Horses shook their heads, blowing through nostrils, then froze mid-step. Wheels creaked into silence one by one. Men shifted closer without speaking - bucklers pressed firm, blades still sheathed yet near hand.

Frowning a little, Natasha tilted her head ahead.

"That armor..."

A flicker of knowing lit Nova’s gaze, her words suddenly edged with clarity.

"...Commander Black."

A whisper passed among them, quick and quiet. Shoulders pulled back. The air stilled in chests. Not a sound followed.

Just then, the horse eased its pace, guided by hands that knew just how tight to hold. Off came the rider, stepping down well short of where he needed to be. Walking forward now, boots pressing into dirt, his helmet stayed cradled under one arm.

Black hair.

Black eyes.

Flecked with dents, the dark plating bore marks of battle, worn down through years of service. A dull sheen clung to its surface, not from carelessness but from constant motion. Each groove told of clashes survived, each scratch added without ceremony. Weighty and unpolished, it carried history in its battered frame.

Fifty meters out, Commander Black came to a halt.

He stared their way, just for an instant. Then nothing.

Not as threats.

Not as strangers.

Born of this place - arrivals that felt like returns.

Forward he moved next.

Then - He knelt.

A single knee rests on the ground. From his chest, a fist pushes inward.

Firm and sharp, his words cut through the air.

"I am Commander Black, military commander of the Nagarath Kingdom, under the grace and authority of His Majesty King Leon."

Up he looked, his stare calm yet honest.

From the city and its soldiers... your return is seen. A moment held close by those who waited. Not just walls remember her, but every street breathes easier now. The crown rests where it began. This ground knew she would come back. Quiet steps on old stones say what words do not. Her presence settles like morning light after long dark.

A hush fell across everything. Stillness crept in from nowhere.

Dust settled.

Wind stilled.

Silence followed.

Not awkward.

Heavy.

Charged.