Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 523 523: The Path to the Treasury

The Path to the Treasury

The late afternoon light stretched long and slow across the palace grounds, soft gold flickering on the tiled roofs as the sun edged toward its descent. Shadows bled over the stone paths in broken patches, drifting under Leonʼs boots as the guard led him forward.

The palace was quiet in that charged way that made every footstep feel heavier. Not fearful—just watchful. A kingdom holding its breath because Leon Moonwalker was moving through its heart.

They crossed the first courtyard.

A wide expanse of polished stone, pale and warm under the light. Soldiers were usually stationed here at every corner, but today only a few lingered—stiff, straight-backed, eyes following Leon with nerves they didnʼt dare reveal.

The guard guiding him swallowed every few steps, the sound almost loud in the stillness. Sweat clung at his temple even though the air was cool.

They passed the second courtyard.

This one held a fountain, its water falling in slow, shimmering sheets that caught the dying sun. Roses climbed the railings, their scent faint and sweet. Leon barely glanced at them. His focus was forward—toward the building only a handful of people in the entire kingdom had ever seen from the inside.

The guardʼs breathing turned shallower.

Then the third courtyard opened before them—narrower, quieter, lined with stone lanterns that were already beginning to glow with the first hints of evening flame. The breeze stirred faintly, brushing Leonʼs coat, carrying with it the soft scent of old wood and polished metal.

And there it was.

Between two palace wings—secluded, almost deliberately hidden—stood the treasury building.

A structure of heavy stone and ancient dignity, its roof carved with curling patterns and its walls reinforced with embedded lines of mana ore that shimmered faintly like starlight trapped in stone.

Leon slowed.

The guard nearly stumbled trying to match his pace.

The presence of guards around this building was… different.

No patrols.

No scattered formations.

Only two men, both old, both so still they might as well have been statues carved into the palace itself.

The young guard leading Leon stiffened visibly as they approached. His hands twitched, then locked behind his back. A thin line of fear tightened his jaw.

He stopped three meters from the door.

”My sire…” he whispered, voice cracking just a bit. He bowed low—so low it didnʼt look like respect; it looked like survival. ”I… am not allowed to step any closer. Low-ranked guards arenʼt 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.”

Leon raised an eyebrow, eyes sharpening.

The guard panicked immediately, hands shaking.

”L-Lord, please donʼt misunderstand,” he rushed out. ”Itʼs not that I mean disrespect… Itʼs simply… these are the rules. Iʼm too low-ranking. Iʼm not even allowed to speak too loudly here.” His voice dropped to a whisper. ”If I stepped inside… I would be violating royal law.”

For a moment Leon said nothing, just studied his expression, his posture, the tremble in his breath.

No lie.

No hidden intention.

Just fear of breaking a rule older than his grandfather.

Leon exhaled through his nose, calm and steady.

”I see,” he said quietly. ”No need to strain yourself. You did your part.”

Relief poured across the guardʼs face so fast his shoulders sagged.

”Sire… forgive the inconvenience,” the guard whispered, bowing even lower.

Leon waved him off. ”Itʼs fine.”

He turned toward the treasury doors.

Then, just as he stepped forward, he spoke over his shoulder—casually, almost as if he were making a comment about the weather.

”Oh. And before you leave—go find Vice Commander Johny and tell him I sent you.”

He didnʼt look back.

He didnʼt need to.

The guard froze.

Completely.

Like someone had struck him with lightning.

His legs buckled, and he dropped straight to his knees—palms hitting the stone.

”V-Vice Commander… Johny?” he choked out. ”The new Vice Commander of the kingdom? T-The man directly under His Majesty?”

Leon didnʼt answer. He was already walking away, boots tapping softly on the polished stone, his silhouette framed by the last touch of sunlight.

But behind him…

A sound broke.

A man quietly crying.

The guard bowed his head to the ground, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

”Sire… your grace is vast as the ocean,” he whispered, fingers digging into the stone. ”I promise—I will devote my life… to the utmost limit.”

Because he understood.

Anyone chosen to work under Vice Commander Johny—handpicked by the king—was guaranteed a future. Guaranteed status, wealth, and protection. His entire bloodline would rise with him.

Leon… had just rewritten his fate with a passing sentence.

He pressed his forehead to the ground once more—then scrambled up and sprinted off, desperate to deliver the message before fate thought to take it back.

He didnʼt even notice that Leon was long gone.

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Leon stepped into the treasury entryway.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the air changed—cooler, faintly metallic, thick with the scent of preserved mana. The ceiling lifted high above him, and the walls glowed with inlaid lines of gold that traced elegant flowers and mythical beasts across the stone.

A chandelier hung in the center—massive, intricate, crafted from rare gems that refracted the sunset into splinters of color dancing across the floor.

Beautiful.

Expensive.

Old.

He took it in with a faint exhale.

At the far end, two desks were set up. Two older guards sat behind them, scribbling into thick ledgers with such focus they didnʼt register Leonʼs arrival.

Not until he cleared his throat.

It was a soft sound.

Barely anything.

But it hit the room like a thunderclap.

Both guards jerked upright, irritation flashing in their eyes—

Who dares disturb—

Then they saw him.

Their faces drained of color.

Chairs scraped back violently as both men practically dove forward, tripping over each other in their rush to kneel.

”Y-Your Majesty!” they shouted in perfect unison.

Leon blinked, mildly amused. ”Only ʼyourʼ is fine.”

That made it worse—they trembled harder.