Supreme Spouse System.

Divine Chakra: The Divine Armor [Part-2]

General Dire's face contorted. His voice cracked as he stumbled back in disbelief. "W-Wait… that's…

HOLY magic?! You possess Holy magic too?! What the hell are you?! No—what kind of monster are you?!"

Leon's eyes never blinked. Golden and unyielding.

His answer was soft… and chilling.

"The worst kind of monster."

And then—darkness answered the call.

Leon lifted his hand once more.

"[Veil of Darkness.]"

From his chest and fingertips, black energy surged outward like a tidal wave. It wrapped the spinning Chakra in a cocoon of shadow, swallowing the vibrant lights into a swirling abyss.

The artifact dimmed under the veil of pure night.

Leon exhaled again.

One more element remained.

"[Wind Breath.]"

A soft green glow formed before him. The orb spun swiftly, its winds dancing around the shadows like a whispering storm. It circled the dark cocoon, sealing it tight in a shroud of balance—wind cradling shadow in a final binding.

The air twisted.

The ground quivered beneath their feet.

Reality itself seemed to bend. The atmosphere thickened, suffocating in weight.

Even Dire's breath caught in his throat.

"What… what are you doing now?!"

Leon took a step forward. Calm. Controlled.

"Just protecting myself."

And then, he spoke.

A final chant—ancient and forbidden—slipped from his lips. The words felt alien, divine, too old for human tongues. Even Leon didn't recognize them. But they came anyway, flowing from something deeper than memory.

The very sound of them warped the air around them.

[&%$###!!%@$%#@!]**

A distorted echo rumbled across the chamber like the scream of a dying star.

Dire stumbled again, his ears ringing from the unnatural noise.

"W-What… what did you just say?!"

Leon said nothing.

The ground cracked open beneath his feet.

The Chakra spun violently, faster than ever—until it shot forward like a bolt of light.

THWUMMMM—

It slammed into Leon's chest.

His body arched, breath stolen by the sheer force. The artifact vanished inside him—consumed in full.

But the power?

The power stayed. And something… else… began to emerge.

From the very center of his chest, it began—a darkness, unnatural and alive. It wasn't smoke, nor shadow, but something stranger. A black substance—liquid in appearance, yet carrying the solidity of something born beyond nature—began to ooze from his chest, flowing thick and slow like tar.

It moved like it had a mind of its own.

The dark matter coiled around his ribs, then crawled outward, wrapping across his chest and shoulders. It slithered over his arms and down his back, hugging his body with disturbing intimacy. It felt alive. Not cold, not warm—just present. Leon twitched. The sensation of it moving across his legs was enough to draw a sharp breath. Then it began to rise… upward—reaching toward his jaw… his cheeks… his eyes—

And then, darkness.

It swallowed his vision whole.

But within that suffocating void, something stirred.

His eyes snapped open—not into blindness, but into clarity. They burned beneath a shell that pulsed with divine protection.

Leon looked down.

And what he saw made him pause—genuinely stunned.

He had changed.

General Dire staggered back, lips parting in a soundless gasp.

Leon's body was no longer bare flesh—it was entirely encased in obsidian armor. It gleamed with a sinister luster, sharp-edged and perfect, but it wasn't forged like any mortal armor. It hadn't been worn. It had grown—shaped over his body like a second skin, as if it had always belonged there. Each curve, each joint, each plate was seamlessly fused with his flesh.

He lifted his hand.

The metal gauntlet creaked, the faint sound of plates shifting as his fingers slowly curled inward. He could feel it—like the armor was his own skin. Not distant or disconnected like steel, but smooth, responsive… alive.

His fists clenched, and the armor answered with a soft metallic hum.

Then he noticed something else.

The armor wasn't a single smooth mass. It was made of thousands of small, interlocking pieces—like scales or sacred bone. Each segment was threaded with glowing red veins that stretched out from a central point on his chest, as if his heart itself had taken control of the Armor's pulse.

And in the center of his chestplate… where the Chakra had once hovered… there it was:

A divine sigil.

A perfect circle, etched with six equal segments, each glowing faintly:

Red with a blazing orange edge—Fire.

Deep blue—Water.

Solid brown—Earth.

Radiant white-gold—Holy.

Pitch black—Darkness.

And emerald green—Wind.

At the very center pulsed a single core—deep crimson. It beat faintly… like a second heart, echoing within him.

Leon's lips parted, the words leaving him in awe.

"This armor… it breathes."

[DING!]

[Congratulations, Host. You now possess partial access to the Divine Balanced Armor.]

His eyes narrowed beneath the helm's shadow.

"Partial?"

[Yes, Host. For complete access, you must retrieve the true missing piece of the Chakra. Not an elemental replica born from your own energy, but the original fragment itself. Only then will the armor reach its final form.]

Leon gave a small nod. There was no time to reflect further.

Because the enemy still stood before him.

General Dire didn't move. Didn't even blink. His eyes just… shook. Wide, unblinking, trying to make sense of what was in front of him.

His mouth opened a little, like he was going to speak—but nothing came out. He just kept staring.

At the god standing there in front of him. The dark one.

Leon tilted his head, slow, deliberate. That grin spread under the helm of armour like it had all the time in the world. "Well, well… You look like you've seen a ghost, General."

His voice echoed like thunder inside a cathedral—low, metallic, heavy with divine power. It was no longer just his voice. It was something more.

The General flinched, his fists tightening as he forced himself back to focus.

"What the hell are you?! Some god?! Some demon?!" he snarled, face contorted with fear and rage. "It doesn't matter!" He clenched his jaw. "No matter what suit you wear—there's only ten seconds left till the city blows! You die here, monster! Even in that fancy armor!"

Leon didn't flinch.

His voice, calm and cruel, echoed once again.

"…Let's see."

The countdown had already started in his mind.

But beneath that divine armor—beneath the strength and power—Leon felt a faint, quiet tension. A part of him still wondered… Could this armor truly protect him? If something failed now, he wouldn't survive the blast.

But there was no time to hesitate.

The countdown ticked on.

10... 9... 8...

In the distance, the ground gave a low, uneasy rumble. Like the city itself could feel what was about to hit.

7... 6... 5...

The sky caught fire—orange flames streaking across the clouds, flickering with a glow that felt... wrong. Something massive was moving. Getting closer.

4... 3... 2... 1...

And then—

BOOOOOOM!!

It wasn't just a sound—it was violence. A scream torn out of the earth's spine. Deafening, gut-deep. Silver City split open like it was made of paper. Like some god reached down and crushed it without care.

Everything just... broke.

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—

One after another, towers crumbled. Streets cracked and folded in like splintered bones. Fire exploded upward, wild and furious, turning the sky into streaks of red and molten gold.

Off in the distance, mushroom clouds rolled open—massive, slow, and final. Death blooming across the skyline. Their shadows stretched far and wide, swallowing everything in reach.

The shockwave flattened entire groves. Trees dropped like nothing. And from deep within the Moonstone, a strange hum rose up. Low. Endless. Like it knew this was all wrong.

Even the Silver Forest—the oldest, the quietest—trembled. Like it had never seen power like this. Like it had never known fear.

At the center of all of it—

In the final breath of this orchestrated destruction—

General Dire threw his head back and let out a scream that wasn't human.

"SEE YOU IN HELL, DUKE!"

And then the fire took him.

It ate him alive. His body burned away, turned to ash and madness. A man consumed by the inferno he created.

But Leon—

Leon didn't move.

He didn't flinch.

He didn't fall.

While everything around him broke and burned, while the world screamed and died—he stood still. Right in the heart of it all. Unburnt. Unbroken. Divine armor wrapped around him like the will of the gods, holding him firm against the storm.

His eyes, eerily calm, glowed beneath a soft red pulse at his chest. Around him, destruction danced like wild firelight, yet not a single ember dared touch him.

The Silver Forest quaked.

Moonstone Hills trembled beneath the thunderous echoes of ruin.

But Leon stood tall.

Alive. Unshaken.