Supreme Spouse System.

From Fire, He Walked

Her voice wavered, gentle yet filled with fear. "You'll die if you go in there."

"I don't care!" Rias screamed back. "Let me go, Lira! I have to save him—I have to! He's still there!"

Lira slowly shook her head, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. "I believe in him. Leon isn't someone who just… dies like this. Please… don't throw your life away. If he's alive—he'll come back. And if he's not… then we'll go together. All of us. But not like this. Not alone."

"I don't care!" Rias screamed, her voice raw. "That man—he's my everything! Don't you get it!?"

"You'll only burn… like everything else…" Lira murmured, voice trembling as her tears kept falling.

The others—Aria, Cynthia, Mia, Syra, Kyra, Tsubaki—none of them could hold back anymore. Tears rolled freely down their faces. Some tried to take a step forward but stumbled, others dropped to their knees, powerless against the ache inside. Red, swollen eyes filled the space. No one spoke. Even the maids were crying now—holding each other, their sobs soft but sharp, cutting through the silence like something sacred had broken.

Across the courtyard, there was no line left between soldier and civilian. Women. Men. Children. Even the old. Everyone was crying. Even the strongest—the ones who'd survived war after war—had their heads lowered. Still. Silent. You could see it in their eyes, glassy and wet. Captain Black. Vice-Captain Johny. Ronan. All three of them just stood there, side by side, not saying a word. Faces locked. Grief pressed into every line.

To them, Leon wasn't just their lord. He was more than that. Their strength. Their center. Their heart.

Rias—who had been standing all this time like a flame refusing to go out—finally broke. Her will gave out like shattering glass. She dropped to her knees, like the weight of her sorrow had finally pulled her under. Lira was right behind her in an instant, dropping down and hugging her tight from behind, arms shaking.

Rias sobbed. Her voice cracked open, small, breathless. Not the voice of a warrior. Not a leader. Just… a girl. Broken. Lost.

"No… Daddy… no… don't leave me…"

Lira held her without words, her own tears soaking into Rias's back.

The air around them grew heavier—so thick with sorrow it felt like even the sky had stopped breathing.

And then—

"LOOK!" Vice-Captain Johny suddenly pointed toward the burning city. "SOMETHING'S COMING!"

Every head snapped up, startled. Gazes turned toward the smoke and fire.

And from the swirling ashes… a shadow appeared.

It moved slowly, steadily, unshaken by the heat or ruin around it.

From the inferno stepped a lone figure.

Broad shoulders. A towering frame. Dark armor hugged its body—scorched, cracked at every joint, the plating split and glowing red-hot beneath the surface. Six stones pulsed across its chest and down its arms, each one alive with its own color, each thumping with a strange, steady beat. Along the fractures, red veins ran like molten lava. Underneath it all, faint chakra-like tattoos shimmered—ancient seals stirring awake to power.

The sight was... haunting.

It didn't run.

It didn't raise a weapon.

It simply walked—like something that had clawed its way out of ruin itself. A phantom of fire and silence. The women gasped. For one fragile heartbeat, hope surged inside their chests.

Could it be...?

Was that Leon?

But as the shape became clearer, so did the bitter truth. The armor was different. The energy, unfamiliar. It wasn't him.

No... this wasn't Leon.

And just like that, the flicker of hope in their eyes dimmed again—snuffed out as quickly as it came.

"That's not him…" someone whispered.

Captain Black narrowed his eyes, instincts flaring. "Could be one of the bastards who attacked the city," he muttered darkly, stepping forward.

"On your guard!" he barked. "We don't know who that is!"

The silver-armored guards surged forward in unison. Weapons drawn. Faces fierce. Their hearts burned with rage—if this man belonged to the enemy, if he had anything to do with their lord's death, they would tear him apart without mercy.

Still, the figure kept moving. Unbothered. Silent. Dangerous.

"Identify yourself!" Johny shouted again, his hand gripping the hilt of his blade. "We'll attack if you don't stop!"

No answer.

No reaction.

The figure marched forward, relentless.

And then—

as it drew closer…

The black armor began to crack.

At first, it was just a line—thin, clean, right across his chest. Then another. And then one more. A soft hiss followed—low, sharp, like steam sliding through cracked stone. The surface started to flake—dry, fragile, breaking like ash caught on the wind. Slowly, bit by bit, it peeled away, drifting upward like embers into the air.

Underneath that wrecked shell… there was skin. Bloodied. Bruised. Muscles drawn tight, twitching with every slight movement. Soot clung to his torso. Burn marks streaked his arms like wild slashes of charcoal. His legs—barely wrapped in torn black trousers—were smeared in dried blood. His chest—cut, scorched—still rose. Still fell. Still breathing. Still alive.

Then came the hair. Jet-black and wild, falling messily across his face, framing features they all knew by heart.

And his eyes…

Golden. Blazing like twin suns behind the smoke.

He looked like a ghost clawed out of hell—and yet, somehow, impossibly, undeniably…

Familiar.

A slow, tired smile tugged at his lips. Worn. Weary. But real.

"…Yo," the man muttered, voice low and frayed like the edge of a blade. "Did you miss me?" Leon asked, his voice cracked but steady, as if nothing in the world had changed.

It was him.

Leon Moonwalker.

His chest rose, slow but alive. Injuries marred every inch of his skin, and faint smoke still curled from his flesh. The last fragments of armor faded into mist, and the chakra stones lost their light, returning to rest quietly within his chest.

Time stopped.

For just one breath, the entire world went still.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then—

"DADDY!!!"

"LEON!!"

"DARLING!!!"

Their voices crashed out in a single, raw cry.

Rias. Aria. Cynthia. Syra. Kyra. Mia. Tsubaki. Lira.

All eight of them burst forward—feet pounding the earth, skirts flying behind them, eyes spilling over. Ash and rubble blurred beneath their strides. Their faces were streaked with tears. Their hands shook. But none of that mattered.

Behind them came the maids—Lilyn, Chloe, Rui, Mira, Fey, Mona, Lena—and every last one that remained. Their uniforms flared in the wind as they ran. Not maids. Not servants. Just women now—women running toward the man they loved with everything in them.

They didn't think.

They didn't hesitate.

The whole world could've been watching—and they still wouldn't care.

Because he was there. Alive. Breathing.

They didn't stop.

And then—like a crashing wave—they hit him.

Arms wrapped tight around his body—his neck, his waist, his bloody chest. They dropped with him to the ground, all tangled up in tears and shaking limbs. Hands pressed to his cheeks, to his back, to every inch of skin they could find. They held on like letting go might kill them.

They cried.

They screamed.

They laughed through their sobs.

Some buried their faces into his shoulder, others gripped his arms like lifelines. Their lips trembled, their words a mess of love and disbelief.

Leon, barely upright, groaned softly. Pain rippled through him—but his smile never wavered.

"…Told you," He murmured, barely louder than a breath. "I'd come back."

He was covered in dirt, in ash, in sweat and blood. The chakra core shimmered behind him for just a moment before vanishing into his chest once more.

None of them noticed.

None of them cared.

The fires could keep burning. The sky could fall.

He was here.

And that—

That was everything.

The sky behind them still burned.

But for this one moment…

The world stood still.