Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 104: Shelter from the Storm

Shelter from the Storm

Almost a week after leaving Silver City, Leon’s caravan traveled steadily across the broad, green fields of the Moonstone Kingdom. Now and then they pushed through lowland forests veiled in morning fog, now and then grasslands that glistened under the high noon sun. Small towns and cities along their route would spring into view and then disappear—like old friends waving hello, then subtly waving farewell.

By day, the sound of hooves cracking and the whisper of magic wheels hummed quietly under the blue-and-white Moonwalker emblem. By night, they slept under a starry sky, camping in magical tents, or finding quiet solace in modest roadside inns whenever a town or city lay within reach.

All along the way, Leon and his women grew closer with unspoken comprehension and quiet, intimate gestures. Then there was Aria’s breakthrough—unexpected and exhilarating beyond description. During one night, under the silver moonlight that filtered through the leaves, their hot lovemaking ignited an explosion of power. Aria’s aura exploded—feral yet tempered—as she broke through the threshold of cultivation and entered the Grandmaster Realm fully. The air around their campsite vibrated with a warm, powerful energy that left everyone panting.

His black-haired priestess Cynthia had long passed the Grandmaster Realm. Her cultivation had not yet broke through to the next level, but her aura intensified—broader and more delicate, like a tranquil ocean that holds massive energy beneath its surface. The most drastic shift, however, occurred in her attitude toward Leon. She became bolder, no longer concealing herself, freely showing her desires without shame. When their gazes met, she looked back at him with gentle assurance, her love apparent and unshakeable.

Syra, untamed and colorful, never suppressed her feelings. Her actions became even more outlandish—she teased and flirted with Leon with mischievous kisses or unexpected pushes into his arms whenever she desired his attention. Her laugh was contagious, and her passion burned hot, illuminating each passing moment of their time together.

Kyra, who had once been the quietest of them all, had grown with the most lovely blossoming. She no longer flushed scarlet at a gentle caress. Rather, she stood her ground, meeting Leon’s eyes with daring love, inserting her fingers into his and standing proudly beside him. In those still moments, she was able to speak her wishes softly but clearly. Day by day, slowly, she opened her heart more freely, her confidence growing like never before.

Although Leon was intimate with the twins to the deepest level, he had not made them his yet. Not due to lack of passion—he yearned for them desperately—but because he did not want to force their first encounter. For now, kisses, soft caresses, whispered sensual foreplay, and entwined bodies under silk sheets were sufficient. The euphoric suspense only served to strengthen their connection.

And in the midst of it all, Leon himself became stronger—body, soul, and heart. Though he hadn’t yet reached the next level, his aura now throbbed with the maximum power of the Grandmaster Realm. Every evening, he found solace and desire in the arms of his lovers, their soft foreplay and mutual intimacy stoking his determination.

Early morning or under the silvery light of the moon, Leon would take his guards and women into the surrounding woods to hunt magical creatures. Occasionally he hunted by himself, but oftentimes more, Leon hunts in the company of his companions, whilst using ”system quests panel” – teammates mode. On each hunt, Leon earned a bountiful harvest of Blank Points—the intangible currency of might within his system.

The trip was not merely one of miles—but transmutation.

As they just forty miles from the capital, the journey took an unexpected turn.

That night, as the sun set low behind the hills, the trees were stirred by a restless wind. Black clouds crept across the sky like a crawling shadow, obscuring the dying light. The music of the day was gone, replaced by a heavy, bizarre silence. Then the first drop fell. A beat and the sky ruptured open, releasing a vicious rain. Wind shrieked through the trees, wild and unforgiving.

Leon peering everything from within carriage, his golden eyes contracting under the turbulent sky. His woman huddled beside him while they too gazed outwards. His Windsteeds snorted and struck the ground, aware of the abrupt shift of whether. Behind him, the guards moved restlessly in their saddles, sharp and watchful.

”Storm’s coming so fierce, my lord,” Black shouted, leading his horse near. Rain ran off his black armor. ”There’s a small town only a mile ahead—Willow Town. Do we ride on, or take shelter here for the night?”

Leon leaned out the carriage window. The cold rain hit his cheek. Within, his friends slept, muttered, or gazed at the storm with silent concern. He paused for only a moment, then tossed the rain off of his hair.

We forge ahead,” he stated, voice steady but strong. ”A night out here in the wilderness, in conditions like these, would be more destructive than the road itself. Better we get to the town and obtain some cover before the night is in full darkness—or the weather turns worse.”

Black nodded, urged his horse, and waved to the guards.

Rain pounded against their faces, armor cracking in the gusts. Lightning ripped at the heavens, lighting the road in short, blinding bursts. The road had become slick, hazardous under their tires and hooves, but the caravan continued on. One mile felt like ten under nature’s fury.

Then, from the tempest, came Willow Town—its edge keen against the rain—but with it new strife.

The gates closed. Torches blazed behind the wooden palisades, dancing through veils of rain. Archers stood along the ramparts. Blades shone in the light of torches as lines of soldiers formed ranks. And at the front, dripping wet but unmoved, was the town lord himself—his cloak sodden with blood, his will heavier still.

A voice boomed over the storm, as hard and unyielding as iron.

Hold! Advance no further! Give your names and business—before you advance one step farther!”

Leon’s carriage came to a stop.

Black charged forward under the driving rain, armor shining beneath the tempest’s wrath. He raised a radiant sigil aloft—a silver wolf’s visage with a crescent moon pulsating softly on its brow: the noble crest of House Moonwalker.

”I am Captain Black, pledged to House Moonwalker!” he shouted, voice strong amidst the storm. ”Our Duke is with us. We seek refuge—not battle!”

Silence lingered for a moment, interrupted only by the sound of rain patter. Then lightning reflected upon the magic sigil, shining and unmistakable. Whispers passed along the battlements like breeze through parched grass.

”Did he say... Moonwalker?” someone asked from overhead.

”Yes,” another attested. ”The Duke Moonwalker.”

Recognition hit the guards like a thunderclap. They stiffened, tense and on guard.

From the wall stepped a figure—drenched, eyes wide with shock. The town lord himself.

”You mean... Lord Leon Moonwalker?” he repeated, voice thick with astonishment. ”The War Hero of the Eastern Border?”

”Yes,” replied Black, voice firm and proud. ”The very same—Lord Leon.” A heavy silence ensued, then the mood broke. The tension popped.

”Open the gates!” the lord ordered, his voice cutting through the roar of the storm. ”Let them pass!”

With a deep, reluctant groan, the massive wooden doors swung wide, revealing the shadowed streets beyond. Rain battered the caravan, each wheel sinking into the thick, sucking mud as they pressed forward under the watchful eyes of armed guards lining the walls.

But as Leon’s carriage rolled into Willow Town’s center, a shiver colder than the storm’s snap settled over him — a whispered warning on the wind.