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Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 128: Let’s Spar [Part-2]
Chapter 128: Let’s Spar [Part-2]
Let’s Spar [Part-2]
And so, hand in hand, two fighters—battle crazies in their own right—walked away from the devastated arena, their footsteps echoing softly on the expansive marble-floored training grounds. The morning sun reflected off shattered weapons and prostrate bodies. Guards slid silently aside, clearing a path as if instinct told them not to stand in the way of two storms.
Nova strode a pace in front—back straight, chin high, her long black locks blowing like a war banner. Her smile had not wavered since the handshake. If anything, it had intensified—feral, anticipatory.
Leon trailed behind, hands locked behind his back, his step measured, calm. But in him, a storm raged in silence. His golden eyes followed the swing of her form, the sparkle of her self-assurance, the presence that moved around her like flames dancing at the rim of a sword.
The far end of the royal training ground stretched before me— but it was not limitless. On its distant boundary stood a semicircular stone wall—smooth as silk, weathered and aged, and lined with several towering doors hewn into stone. These were no ordinary doors. Each led to a personal training room, constructed not for mere warriors but for those who could not possibly give less than their all.
There were a dozen total, each spaced an even interval along the curve of the wall, each door carved from Blackstone, and each inscribed with ancient runes that glowed softly even when not active. These chambers were simply referred to as the Vaults of Combat—structures constructed to hold within them the energy of a full-strength cultivator’s spar. To practice here was to have more faith in the stone than in the sky.
The private sparring chambers.
Built hundreds of years back by court mages and rune smiths, these rooms were created for only one reason: to allow monsters to battle without reserve. Secured with defense arrays, soundproofing, and reality anchors, these rooms allowed cultivators to unleash their full power without damaging the palace—or spilling their secrets.
Leon and Nova stopped in front of one such door—Vault seven. Colossal, quiet, sealed. The surface had no handle, only runes etched there—dull and cold, as if asleep. frёewebηovel.cѳm
Nova glanced back at him; her smile still quick, still feral. "This one," she said.
Leon nodded quietly. "Perfect."
Then, without a word, Nova walked forward and extended her right hand. Her palm hovered above the center of the gate—almost touching—and a gentle hum bubbled in the air. A pulse lapped out.
Leon squinted.
Nova’s fingers pulsed softly as her mana poured out of her hand into the gate. Cautiously, the inactive runes on the stone face began to flame—once, then again—before slowly illuminating in gorgeous blue, as if veins were awakening within a ancient monster. One after the other, the symbols animated, pouring across the door like living text. Then the whole vault started to hum, low and resonant, a tremor thundering through the earth beneath their feet.
Leon’s eyes never left her.
Nova froze, eyes shut, intently concentrated as she kept channeling her mana into the runes.
The blue runes glowed brighter.
And then—abruptly—the vault emitted a low, mechanical ~ thoom!. A rumbling like the sound of ancient giants rousing from slumber.
Nova’s eyes snapped open just as the stone gate started rising.
Dust was loosened from the ancient seams as the enormous slab slowly rose upward, its own weight causing it to groan.
Leon, who was just behind her, saw the whole procedure with calm interest—but in his heart, he had a faint spark of awe.
This world... still holds on to old social frameworks, Leon surmised, but its magical underpinning... it’s more sophisticated than Earth technology in so many aspects. Not clumsy, like steel and wires. It’s elegant. Living. Or perhaps... this is the benefit of possessing actual magic.
He absorbed it all—the shining runes, the buzzing thrum of the stone, the sheer sophistication of mystic systems in action—and for once, he was a child again, awash in that deep, unfiltered wonder.
The gate at last reached its height and ceased with a loud, resonant clang, opening to show what was there.
Within, the room expanded broad in a flawless circle. Its sides were reinforced with radiating rune conduits and blacksteel plating that glimmered softly under ambient magic. The ground was inscribed with ancient sigils—warding circles, nullification fields, and damage-absorbing arrays. Each square inch of the space was crafted with one mission: to hold back destruction.
A field of battle encased in stone. A prison constructed not for training. but for monsters in human flesh.
Nova spun around, her green eyes sparkling, her smile still angled with impudent confidence.
"Lord Leon..." she invited, sweeping her arm toward the now-open room, "Shall we?"
Leon’s attention jerked back to hers. He blinked once, then sent her the same smile—tranquil, subdued, nearly mocking.
"Of course, Lady Nova," he answered in smooth tones.
With practiced fluidity, he moved forward.
Nova’s smile grew even wider, obviously delighted. She went in first, her boots clicking softly against the magical floor. Her hair flowed behind her, her back straight, her gait smooth and confident—like a soldier going onto a home ground battlefield. Her steps did not falter.
Leon came after her, his gaze lingering for an instant before moving through.
As they both stepped across the threshold, a low vibration hummed beneath their feet. The great stone door behind them started down with a screeching groan, stone jamming against stone. The glowing runes along its surface glowed brighter, interlocking into a mesh of gleaming blue light.
A last thud boomed down the corridor as the gate clanged shut behind them—trapping them in, closing them off from the world outside.
Now, only silence and magic remained.
And the promise of a battle with no restraints.
Outside, the guards who had been watching the whole scene finally let out the breaths they’d been holding.
"Thank the heavens," one muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "If they fought out here... we’d be ruins by now."
"They’re both Grandmasters," one guard whispered, voice tight with awe. "One wrong clash and this whole plaza would’ve shattered."
Their relief was genuine—but under that relief... seethed deep regret.
They had narrowly missed something uncommon. No, something irreplaceable.
A bout between two Grandmasters wasn’t merely an exhibition of power—it was an epiphany. Each step, each blow, each parry carried years of fight-honed expertise. Even one movement could lead to an insight, a discovery. One burst of fists could expose truths that it took decades to learn from theory and instruction manuals.
And now. that opportunity was lost. But still, no one complained out loud. It wasn’t their right. The guards sighed together as a single entity, a shared breath of disappointment.
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Within the private Training Vault.
The air was different—thicker, imbued with primal power. As soon as the door closed behind them; the silence became total, interrupted only by the soft vibration of glowing runes etched into the obsidian-black walls. The whole room was huge, round, and cast for one use: to hold off monsters in human flesh.
The ground under their feet was strengthened by interlocking blacksteel tiles—every one of them inscribed with warding sigils, circles of nullification, and shock-absorbing structures. The walls rose high into a dome, embedded in radiant rune channels that pulsed softly like light veins, and behind a shimmering veil on one wall stood a whole arsenal of arms—tidily stacked and suspended mid-air in suspended animation.
Blades of all shapes shone: longswords, scimitars, great swords, sabers. Next to them, lines of spears, glaives, halberds. Down the way—whips, daggers, chakrams, tridents, war hammers, gauntlets. All conceivable weapons. For every style, for every fighter.
Leon’s eyes slowly traced across the room, drinking it in.
Nova stood silently before him, arms crossed, a flicker of quiet amusement playing in her emerald eyes. She observed his face, waiting.
"You seem like it’s your first time here, Lord Leon," she said softly, her voice echoing slightly in the chamber.
He looked back at her and smiled with a touch of embarrassment. "Yes, Lady Nova. I’ve never been here before."
In truth, the former Leon had never once set foot in the private training vault. This was new—utterly foreign—yet breathtaking.
Nova’s eyes sparkled. She nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see your wonder. Trust me, the first time I was here... I was equally astonished."
Leon laughed, nodding with a big smile. "From your tone, you must have visited here numerous times, Lady Nova."
"Whenever I’m visiting the capital, I ensure that I train here," she retorted with a smirk. "This place is like a second home."
Leon raised an eyebrow in amusement and laughed at her remark. Then, suddenly, a question burst into his head. He cocked his head.
"Tell me, Lady Nova... have you ever battled Edric Starlight. The Duke of the Starlight Dukedom?"
At the mention of his name, immediately, her face turned dark. Her lips twisted into a snarl of raw disdain.
"That fucking idiot," she muttered. "Yes. I’ve fought him. Many times. And I’ve beaten him—every damn time. Still, he keeps coming back with another sparring request like some delusional dog."
Leon blinked, taken aback by the venom in her voice. But it made sense.
He recalled Edric from the past Leon’s scattered memories. A clever, two-faced aristocrat—calculating and manipulative. A snake who’d go to any lengths to gain status. And Nova? Not only the kingdom’s greatest beauty, but also its most fearsome female warrior—and a Duchess, one of the highest-ranking titles in the kingdom.
Needless to say, some opportunistic guy like Edric wouldn’t release such a prize.
He had probably pushed her again and again, in hopes of receiving something greater than bruises. A duel that could bring about courtship, then... a position, a claim. Hopes to one day conquer and call upon the promise she had once made—to marry the man who bested her.
Typical, double faced Nobel.
Leon let out a long breath, putting two and two together in silence. His gut was probably right on point.
Nova, catching his contemplative pause, scoffed. "Lord Leon, let’s not waste air on that fool. Let’s spend our time on something else."
Leon gave a brief nod. "As you wish, Lady Nova."
He then looked in the direction of the hovering armory. "So... tell me, which weapon do we use today? Or do we play hand-to-hand?"
Nova glanced at the weapons for an instant, her lips twisting into a deadly smile. "Let’s just fight with our martial arts, then?" she asked, her voice carefree but electrifying.
"Thanks, but I don’t think so," Leon replied, his grin equal to hers. There was something in his eyes—a hunter’s gleam.
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you later, Lady Nova."
She chuckled, advancing without looking away. "I won’t," she stated.
Then, with practiced elegance, she fell into a stance. Legs slightly bent, arms ready, center of gravity low. Her fingers flexed, set to go. Her aura didn’t burst outward—it condensed, wrapped around her like coils of stored potential energy poised to snap.
Leon smiled softly and echoed her. His form shifted smoothly into Voidbreaker Form One—balanced, economical, honed for offense and counterstrike. His power dropped deep into his belly, pulsing in time with his breathing.
The world was motionless for a beat.
Then Nova widened her smile. "Ready, Lord Leon?"
He smiled once more. "Ever ready, Lady Nova."
Her eyes sparkled. "Then—let’s dance."
She attacked first. Quick—quicker than most could move.
Leon’s feet skidded over the floor as he stepped forward to her, Voidbreaker power coursing through his limbs like lightning stored in muscle.
"So be it..." "Let’s dance."
Their fists met in mid-air—two blows, matched in strength and purpose.
BOOM!
A shockwave burst from the collision. The training vault shuddered. Runes on the walls burned to life, soaking up the rippling pressure before it could harm the chamber. Cracks would have shattered normal stone—but not here.
Not in this vault constructed for specially — battle manic like them.
And so, the initial strike was delivered.
The duel had commenced.