Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 69: The Black Gold Company

The Black Gold Company

The group stopped in front of a large building set back along one of the market’s busiest streets. Over them, a giant obsidian sign creaked, shining like a polished mirror, its golden letters tastefully spelling: Black Gold Company. In contrast to the frenzied energy of the surrounding vendors and crowds, this was peaceful and still, almost menacing in its serenity—a temple of wealth in the midst of the chaos.

The edifice rose tall and imposing, its walls made of gleaming black marble, its rim outlined with shining golden trim. Large, shaded windows shone softly in the sunlight, and the double doors, made of lacquered wood, stood tall, framed in shining iron. Two guards in armor stood at attention, spears tightly held, their sharp-eyed gazes scanning the area. Their matching steel armor, polished to a mirror finish, left no doubt that they were no ordinary guards—these were battle-hardened warriors, paid not just to keep troubles at bay, but to guarantee that only professionals could gain entry.

Syra’s gasp; eyes wide. ’Lord. this palace is incredible.’

Cynthia, just as awed, nodded. ’Indeed, Lord.’

Kyra offered a crisp, approving nod, her eyes running over the building like a seasoned tactician, always assessing.

Aria smiled, hands folded behind her back. ’If your sightseeing is complete, maybe we should go inside now?’

Leon smiled gently, nodding. ’Yeah, let’s go.’

Chloe, quiet and intent, guided the group towards the gate.

As they approached the Black Gold Company, the two guards immediately noticed, their keen eyes focusing on the group. It wasn’t their faces the guards looked at first—it was their attire. The plain-cut, coarse fabrics they wore may have identified them as merchants or commoners to the naked eye, but the guards weren’t deceived. The quality of the material, the exact tailoring, the way they stood—it all told a story.

The guards’ eyes narrowed, evaluating. They weren’t searching for individuals—they were examining for threats, buyers, or fakes. The unspoken tension between them was thick as they sized up whether these impeccably dressed individuals were real or merely time-wasters seeking a glimpse of opulence.

When Leon and the women at last arrived at the towering gates, one of the guards advanced, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes were cold and unyielding, his voice gravelly as he said, "No trouble within. If you make any, be prepared to pay the price."

Leon kept his cool. He recognized this kind of guard—trained to keep riffraff out. He didn’t hold them against themselves for their attitude. They were only doing their work. He smiled graciously, bowing his head in silent agreement.

But not everyone accepted guards words so easily.

Aria’s eyes fell into a glare, her jaw clenching against the guard’s bitter words lingering on the air. She flexed her fist beside her, nails biting into her glove. How dare they talk to him like that? He wasn’t any man—he was Duke Leon Moonwalker. If only they understood who was in front of them... Her heart seethed with silent anger, but she choked it back. Not now. Not here. He had asked for a quiet day at the market. He didn’t ask for a scene. And on his behalf, she compelled herself to breathe deeply and allow the fire to smolder in silence inside.

Chloe frowned as well, but noticing Aria and Leon kept quiet, she did as well.

However, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra? They did not have that kind of restraint.

For Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra, Leon wasn’t just a man. He was their Lord. The chosen of their goddess—the one destined to stand as her equal and their own future husband. But beyond titles or prophecy, he was the man who invited them in, made them feel better, made them feel like they are new members in his clan. And how

It rang out subtly like the sound of ice breaking through beneath them, as Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra released their auras. It was not hectic or explosive. It was trained, intent, and cutting like a blade that has been unsheathed with silence. That which came behind in terms of pressure was intense and constricting.

The guards stumbled beneath the weight of an unseen pressure, centered on the two men, a killer’s focus on prey. Their breathing shallowed, knees shaking beneath the raw power of killing intent closing in from every direction. Both relinquished his spear with a clang. The other clenched his teeth, but the perspiration streaming down his forehead betrayed the terror he attempted to hide.

Cynthia advanced, her eyes softly glowing, her voice cold but even.

"How. could you talk to our Lord like that?" she said, every word a blade. "You want to die, little punks?"

The market entrance fell silent.

Even Leon and Aria sensed the abrupt change—tension like a tempest ready to unleash itself.

Leon acted fast, inserting himself between them, his being tranquil but firm.

"Cynthia. Kyra. Syra," he said softly, yet firmly. "Withdraw your aura."

The three women looked at Leon, surprised—caught off guard by the soft command behind his smile. He stood calmly, eyes warm, voice smooth as silk.

"We came here to enjoy ourselves," he said, his tone light but steady. "No need for conflict. They’re just doing their job."

A beat passed.

Realizing their error, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra looked at each other. Reluctantly, slowly, they pulled back their auras—drawing back the suffocating power like a knife being sheathed at the very last moment.

The result was immediate.

The two guards fell to their knees, panching for breath. Their faces were ghostly pale, dripping with sweat, as if they had just gazed into the face of death itself and emerged barely alive.

Leon turned to them with a gentle, gentleman’s smile. "Sorry," he said with kindness. "My friends can be. a bit overprotective for me. Don’t take it personally."

The guards gazed at him in amazement. They had never experienced such imposing presence—and now this fellow was speaking kindly and even smiling?

Then Leon took out a pouch from within his coat and flung it gently to them.

"Here. Take this as payment.

The pouch thudded into the guard’s hand. Leon looked around at Chloe and the others. "Let’s go in."

When the group stepped into the shop, Cynthia, Kyra, and Syra all quickly turned back, shooting the guards a quick but frightening glare. The door closed behind them.

The guards heaved a heavy sigh.

"Wh... who were they?" One guard breathed, his chest heaving like he’d been running a marathon. Sweat dripped off his forehead, burning his eyes.

The other remained silent. Shaking, he swiped his brow—then realized what he held in his hand. A little, leather pouch. He hadn’t even noticed the man had thrown it to him.

He opened it slowly. And went still.

His eyes widened—full moons round. Gold. Not coins. Dozens.

The first guard noticed his face. "Hey... what’s in there?" he panted.

The second didn’t say a word. He just gave the pouch over, fixed on the route Leon and his friends walked down, now gone into the imposing building.

The first guard looked inside.

His breath was caught. "Gold coins..."

"Gotta be. five hundred gold in here," the second finally breathed.

"Wha—what!?!" the first guard’s jaw hung open. "Five hundred?! A family could live in comfort for three generations on that!"

The other nodded slowly, still fixed on the now-empty gate. "They didn’t even flinch. Didn’t argue. Just. left this."

The pouch weighed heavier now— heavier than gold. It weighed heavier with something else. Power. Influence.

"Who the hell are they?" the first muttered, voice hollow with awe.

The second whispered back, almost to himself, "And where... where did they come from?"

The two men stood there in awestruck silence, the pouch gripped tight between them, the gold within shining like stars dropped from another planet.

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Within the Black Gold Company

The mood shifted the instant they entered. The air was crisp, scented lightly with foreign spices and magical oils.

The floor was a shiny dark stone, highly polished. Golden designs glimmered dimly beneath their feet. Lines of glass display cases ran along the aisles and walls, each one holding rare magical items, shining gems, enchanted trinkets, and jewelry appropriate for foreleg elegance and nobility and status symbol. Suspended magical goldenlamps cast warm, constant light on the treasures.

Maids with spotless uniforms glided among exhibits, cleaning the cases to maintain their cleanliness. Soothing instrumental music floated in the background, an air of magic to reassure customers and concentrate their minds.

At the far end of the room, behind a luxurious black-wood desk inlaid with crimson runes, a man sat absorbed in a scroll. He appeared to be in his middle years, with slicked-back hair, smooth robes, and a keen, watchful eye. Magical scrolls hovered above him, and tiny enchanted objects floated quietly around his work area.

As they entered, a white-robed male attendant stepped forward with impeccable posture and professional smile. He bowed low over chest with his hand.

"Welcome to the Black Gold Company," he greeted with elegance. "How can I help you, esteemed guests?