Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 141: The obsidian Ring [Part-2]

The obsidian Ring [Part-2]

But Leon—he merely smiled.

For everything he’d just claimed... was a bluff.

The "Skyfall Kingdom" tale, the legendary magical scholar —all made-up. A tidy little story constructed for credulity. Not fact.

In real life, he had purchased the ring at his System store. A shiny black ring, plain-named Obsidian Ring, hidden away in the rare items list for 150 blank points. The craftsmanship? Perfect. The resistance to mana? Real. And the strengthening barrier powerful enough to shatter a killing strike? Also, real. But the history? Completely made-up.

He required the King to be convinced by it. To want it. To wear it.

For that ring contained something much more valuable than defensive charms.

A secret failsafe.

Leon’s grin remained as he looked at the velvet box now cradled in the King’s hand, the gem glowing softly.

Something the King did not know—could not know—was that Leon had spent 200 more blank points imbuing the ring with a special enhancement. One not catalogued in any open shop. One he had to ask specially for.

A binding curse.It was straightforward: if the King ever—ever—attempted to harm Leon or his wives himself, the ring’s failsafe magic would kick in. His arm would freeze, immobile before he could even attempt anything. His fingers wouldn’t clench. His body would lock up entirely.

The mana infused into the ring would burst like an inner curse, choking off the mana-flow in his meridians and binding him in place—trapped by the very energy he bore so unwittingly on his finger.

Not a shield. A leash.

Leon hadn’t asked the System to add the enchantment due to unfounded suspicion. He had reasons—clear, vivid ones. In the memories of old Leon, he’d witnessed it too often... the way the King gazed at him. Pride, yes. Power, naturally. But under it all—something colder. Jealousy. Quiet, seething, and perilous.

It was subtle nowadays, hidden under layers of politeness and diplomacy, but envy had the tendency to breed silently in the dark.

And if ever—that envy turned to fury... it wouldn’t be Leon alone who would be at risk. It would be his wives.

And that, by god, was unacceptable.

So, he took measures. And what better way than an impeccable gift—camouflaged as insurance, a protection for his wives and himself.

He smiled to himself. What finer snare than one worn on the hand by choice?

But outwardly, his face remained a mask. Peaceful. Respectful. A model subject paying homage to his King.

And the King, not perceiving the fine threads securing his finger, picked up the ring to examine it closer.

Leon remained silent. He’d said enough already.

The King’s eyes fell upon Leon once more, serene but introspective. He did not comment on where the ring was from. Leon, after all, was a Duke— of the kingdom’s and one of the most influential, powerful individuals within the five kingdoms. It was not surprising for someone such as him to offer such gifts.

Instead, the King’s tone came low and even, with weight. "I am satisfied with your gift, Duke."

Leon’s smile grew wider, a glint of real satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I am pleased to present something worthy of Your Majesty. It is an honor."

With a polite bow, Leon continued, "Then, Your Majesty, with your leave. I shall take my departure."

The King’s gaze fell once more on the ring, curiosity smoldering beneath his serene veneer. Not raising his head, he nodded. With your leave,

Leon leaned his head once more and began to turn. Meanwhile, Natasha rose from her sitting position next to the King.

"Come with me, Duke Leon, please," Natasha asked graciously. "I will see you out of the study."

Leon looked back at the King, looking for his response to Natasha’s words. But the King neither spoke nor changed expression, continuing to be engrossed in studying the ring, being deep in thought.

The King was silent in reaction to Natasha’s offer of escorting Leon and. Therefore, Leon slightly nodded and turned to accompany Natasha.

"Thank you, Miss Natasha," he murmured softly, keeping pace beside her.

Natasha escorted Leon carefully through the gleaming corridors, her steps soft yet assertive. The light echoes of their steps reverberated off the imposing walls as they neared the imposing double doors of the royal study.

When they emerged outside, both stopped short of the door. Natasha swung around to him with smooth motion, her face composed and serene, a faint smile on her lips.

"You can go your own way now, Duke," she replied softly, her voice respectful but warm.

Leon reciprocated her smile with a slight inclination of his head. "I see, Miss Natasha."

For an instant, their gazes clashed, a silent understanding between them. Then Natasha extended her hand elegantly.

"Have a good day, Duke Leon."

Leon’s expression was the same serene smile as he grasped her hand lightly. "And you too, Miss Natasha. I’m happy to have met you."

His engaging smile grew a shade deeper, and for an instant, Natasha’s heart missed a beat—though her face was perfectly serene, her tranquil smile never wavering.

She pressed his hand gently in turn, her grip firm but dainty. Leon’s brow rose in faint surprise, but before he could respond, she released her hand with a gentle smile.

She spun around, turning elegantly, and entered the royal study, the massive doors swinging shut behind her—but not before Natasha hesitated.

Her body shifted only slightly to glance over her shoulder at Leon. In that instant, she smiled softly, almost beatifically, as if she cherished some secret no one else knew—before the doors slid shut slowly, then closed quietly, resolutely, with a thud, extinguishing the moment before Leon had a chance to fully absorb what he’d witnessed.

Was the smile genuine? Or simply an illusion his exhausted mind had created in the stillness of the hall?

And then he blinked, shook his head gently, and dismissed the notion.

Perhaps it’s just my imagination, he thought, a subtle laugh escaping his mouth at the possibility.

With a final look around the royal study, Leon’s serene smile reappeared. And then, without saying a word, he turned and departed—his footsteps carrying softly down the corridor, dying into the stillness.