Supreme Spouse System.

The Wrath of Dire: Endgame at Silver City [Part- 5]

And Dire—Dire stopped mid-step.

His foot, just about to step forward with the full arrogance of a man who's sure he'd already won, froze in midair. For the first time in ages, a flicker of doubt crossed those sharp eyes. The beast of a man, the ruthless General who used to laugh at his foes as weak, was now staring down something that shattered every rule he'd ever learned.

This wasn't the man he'd sneered at.

This was something else.

Something divine.

The presence before him didn't glow with light—it shimmered with a cold, haunting darkness that seemed to drain the warmth right out of the air. Then—Leon lifted his hand again, lips parting for a chant that was calm, steady, sure.

"[Dark Moon]," he whispered.

The moment the words slipped free, the air trembled like it was alive.

Above, a sigil took shape—ancient and arcane, twisted in shadow. A black orb emerged from the swirling runes, round and bright like a sun, but it didn't shine—it devoured.

Silence followed.

It was so heavy, it crushed even the screams of the fight around them.

The air wasn't just thick anymore. It felt… alive. Heavy in a way that made your skin crawl. Like some old, ancient force had woken up and wrapped itself around every soul out there—tight, coiled, like a serpent waiting to sink its teeth in. Right in the heart of burning Battle field, even the hard ones—the warriors who'd been through hell and come out sharper—felt something wrong. Something crawling just beneath their skin, slow and cold. Their hands gripped their weapons harder, but the shaking wasn't from fear of flesh and blood enemies.

No... this tremor came from deeper. Primal. Unknown. A presence beyond any war they'd ever faced.

A slow, unnatural chill slipped through the chaos like a whisper. One by one, voices started to fall quiet. No more shouting. Just breath. Just pounding hearts. Not from battle—but from that sinking truth, cold and awful and undeniable— something beyond understanding was unfolding right there, before their eyes.

"No… no, I'm dreaming. This… this can't be real…" someone whispered, their voice barely a breath, like saying it out loud might break their fragile hold on reality.

Even Rias—fierce, proud Rias—whose crimson hair had once burned like fire in the dark, stood frozen. Her fingers, the same ones that used to fly straight for the kill without hesitation, clung to the edge of her robe, tight. Like she needed to feel something solid. Like even she didn't trust what she was seeing. Her wide eyes shimmered—disbelief, and something softer, rawer. "D-Daddy… has the Dark element too…?"

The words trembled out, like naming the impossible might make the world fall apart.

Behind her, Cynthia stood as still as stone, calm breaking apart like fragile glass. Her onyx eyes fixed on the massive orb looming black and pulsing like a second sun. "Dark Element…? That's impossible. He already has Holy Element. How can he have both…?"

Lira's lips parted, but no sound followed. Her glacial blue eyes remained glued to the sky—to the thing above them. It was more than magic. More than darkness. It was a presence that throbbed with ancient might, a black celestial body that radiated dread. "That isn't just dark magic… That's something else. Something deeper… darker…"

Even Syra—bold, cocky Syra, with that wild green hair always flickering with mischief—stood still. Quiet. She spoke under her breath, as though afraid even her own voice might piss off the heavens. "I've never even heard of anyone awakening both Light and Dark. Not even in the oldest records… the buried ones. That's not a man. That's a storm dressed like one…"

Beside her, Tsubaki hadn't taken a single step, but the way her hand clenched around her blade—knuckles gone ghost-white—said everything. Her warrior's instinct had picked up on it.

Something deeper... Something beyond anything she'd ever faced, even in the bloodiest fights. "If this is what he's been hiding all this time…" she breathed, "then we never even saw his real strength. This… this changes everything."

Mia didn't speak. She just stood there trembling—eyes wide, soft, barely able to pull in a full breath. Her body leaned against Aria's for support, her voice cracking like a child's caught in a nightmare. "W-We thought he was strong before… but this… this is like watching the sky being rewritten…"

Aria, regal as ever, took one slow step forward, her violet eyes fixed on the sky as though witnessing a god descend. "The Holy Sun…" she whispered.

And then—they saw it.

A second orb.

As though answering the first, it appeared above the battlefield in glorious defiance. Where the first orb devoured light, this one birthed it. It blazed like the morning sun, golden and radiant, so pure that even shadows dared not linger in its presence. Holy magic—the most sacred, most blessed form of elemental energy—now stood revealed, side by side with its nemesis.

Two celestial bodies hovered in perfect opposition above the war-torn land. Darkness and Light. Death and Salvation.

The women stared upward, unable to speak. Their hearts, their beliefs, their understanding of the world cracked beneath the weight of what they were seeing.

And then Rias, still trembling, her eyes never leaving the sky, murmured again in awe-struck breath— Dark… and Holy…"

What they felt wasn't fear. It was reverence.

Terror wrapped in awe. Because beneath those divine orbs, standing alone, was him.

Leon.

Their man.

Their Duke.

Their God, perhaps.

Divine and devastating. Mortal and immortal. Under that blackened sky, he stood—tall, unshaken—his presence alone bending the very laws of what should've been possible.

Even the battlefield seemed to freeze. Like war itself forgot how to move. Like it didn't belong here anymore. And in the hearts of those who loved him… even the word love started to feel too small. Too simple.

Their thoughts scrambled. Their beliefs cracked. Everything they'd ever known—everything they'd been taught—started to shake.

In all of Galvia, there were six known elements. Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. Holy. Darkness. It was said that a person could only awaken to one or two elements in their lifetime—determined by talent, luck, and bloodline. Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth were common. Holy and Darkness were rarer than gold… unique. Those who possessed them were seen as prodigies, revered or feared. And yet, no one had ever heard of a single soul wielding both Holy and Dark magic—two elements considered nemeses of one another, opposing forces in balance.

And yet… Here he was.

Their beloved. The man who broke this rule of world and now weild all six affinity.

And the only one who didn't flinch—who didn't tremble in awe or disbelief—was the monstrous General Dire himself. Not because he was stronger. But because he had seen this before.

Back when the city first exploded—when towers crumbled and the heavens roared—he had witnessed something no one else did. He had seen Leon summon all six affinities.

He had seen the orbs—the black and the gold—rise into the heavens like twin stars marking the birth of a new god.

And in that moment his eyes caught them, something inside him twisted. A raw, ancient instinct screamed that something was wrong.

He turned his gaze back to Leon, only to find him smiling. Calmly. Almost cruelly.

And before Dire could even make sense of the storm swirling around him—Leon whispered the final words of his spell.

"[Holy-Dark Eclipse.]"

That was the moment the world cracked.

Above them, the holy orb descended with blinding brilliance, and the dark orb rose with quiet hunger. The two began to spiral together, orbiting, then slowly pulling toward one another. Energy surged into the air, thick and volatile. The sky pulsed, the earth groaned, and the barrier surrounding the battlefield shuddered.

Even the monstrous General Dire flinched.

The merging had begun.

And Leon… Leon stood at the center of the chaos, perfectly still.

Unmoved. Unshaken.

Crowned not in gold—but in silence, darkness, and divine light.

The massive creature trembled, its wide eyes frozen on the terrible thing forming above. Two glowing orbs— one blazing with holy light, the other thick with shadow—slowly pulled together, fusing into a single, monstrous sphere. It pulsed with raw destruction, every beat heavier than the last.

And it just hovered there… like a warning carved into the sky. Beautiful in the worst way. Like creation and ruin tangled up in one breath.

A chill ran straight down the creature's spine. For a moment, it froze—couldn't move, couldn't even think. That thing… it was death. No, worse—it was judgment. He turned toward Leon, face twisted in panic, and his voice cracked from the rising pressure in his chest. "Stop… stop this!" he roared in desperation, then bolted toward Leon with a final burst of resolve.

But it was too late.

Leon smiled.

He lifted both hands slowly, fingers stretching wide up toward the sky. The air seemed to shiver, almost like it was revering him, as that glowing orb started its slow fall. No words spoken. No warning given. Just a quiet, deadly movement.

And then it dropped.

A brilliant beam of raw power slammed down, hitting the massive beast instantly. The earth beneath him groaned and split apart. Light and darkness twisted together around him, swallowing him up as the scorching magic exploded.

The barrier conjured behind him—a desperate shield of mix of energy of 9 warrior — first layer was splintered like glass, failing to hold back the force.

Leon didn't move.

Half the orb's destructive energy continued pouring down, a relentless stream of judgment. The creature dropped to one knee, screeching as his body started to disintegrate. Piece by piece, he vanished—flesh, then bone, then soul—until only agony remained.

The final layer of the barrier cracked as well, the protective district dome faltering under the sheer force. And yet Leon still stood still, caught between the screams and the crumbling world.

"Leave me! Leave me! I swear, I'll be your slave! Just let me live!" the creature wailed, clawing at the air. "Mercy!"

But Leon's golden eyes were merciless, cold, godlike.

He didn't flinch.

The remaining energy surged, engulfing the monster completely. A final scream ripped out—long, shrill, not even human—right before his body burst into glowing fragments, vaporized in a thunderous boom that shook the air itself.

The shockwave slammed upward in sky, splitting through the sky like a blade, tearing the clouds wide open, leaving behind a burning pillar of light that reached all the way into the heavens.

Then—silence. Real silence.

Through the cracked, wounded clouds, a soft golden glow began to spill down—quiet, gentle. Like the first hint of sunlight after a night that refused to end. That warm orange light spread over the charred ground, soft and slow, touching it like a sigh from the sky itself.

Leon stood still in the quiet. Alone.

Then, at last, he sank to one knee.

His breathing came fast—sharp, shallow gasps in the silence.

And with his golden eyes raised toward the torn-open sky, he let out a breath. Soft. Barely there.

And he whispered— "…Finally. The night is over."