Supreme Spouse System.
Chapter 175: She’s at Monarch realm

Chapter 175: She’s at Monarch realm

She’s at Monarch realm

She threw up her hand.

Snap.

A cold, metal shattering sound pierced the air like a shot, resounding off the courtyard stone.

Something altered.

A low, unhuman vibration disturbed the breeze, and then—whoom—a ripple of blue energy burst out of Natasha’s feet, spreading like a shockwave. It glowed across the garden path and arched well overhead, creating a shimmering dome of light.

Nova’s breath stuck in her throat. Her eyes went wide. "A concealment barrier..." she whispered. "And that’s high-level. Elite-grade."

Leon’s hand automatically dropped to his sword hilt. His eyes tightened, his focus scanning along the edge of the barrier. "You warded the area."

Natasha laughed, lazily. She spun a silver ring on her finger, the gemstone set in its center throbbing weakly. "The palace will never even know. The King? Drugged and asleep. Has been for hours."

Leon’s eyes narrowed. "You drugged the King?"

"Let’s just say. he needed to sleep through tonight." She tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. "And the guards? Please. Low-tier insects. Most of them were sent off under a false decree earlier this evening. The ones who remain won’t even sense what’s happening in here."

Nova stepped forward, her voice tight. "You planned this. You’ve been preparing for days."

Natasha’s smile broadened, a glint of pride in her eyes. "Naturally I did. You imagine I’d face him—" she nodded to Leon "—without considering the girl stuck to him like glue?"

Leon laughed curtly, as harsh as the edge of a blade. "That was your initial error. Underestimating her."

"Was it?" Natasha’s voice was carefree, but something metallic undercurrented. "This shield dampens spiritual energy, hides fluctuations, separates the whole area from outside awareness. No one’s rescuing you. No alarms will ring. And even if someone did manage to wander nearby..." She ran a finger along the rim of the dome. The blue light glowed back at her. "They wouldn’t even notice this battle."

Nova’s fingers twitched, her core flaring with restrained energy. "You’re awfully confident for someone outnumbered."

"Outnumbered?" Natasha scoffed, pulling her cloak back. Beneath, a blue sigil glowed faintly on her collarbone—an advanced cultivation seal. "No. I’m simply efficient. This isn’t a brawl. It’s an execution."

Leon’s lips curled into a slow grin. "You’ve made two mistakes now."

"Oh?" she purred, raising a brow.

"One," Leon said, glinting eyes. "You think barriers are important to me."

"And two," Nova said, falling into step beside him, "You locked yourself in with us."

Natasha’s face flickered—just for an instant.

Then she laughed, low and gentle. "How sweet. United front. Shame it won’t save you."

The air grew charged. Magic started to swell.

Leon’s voice went cold, a razor’s edge under the words. "Then let’s see what that ring of yours is truly worth."

Natasha didn’t respond.

Instead, she lifted her hand once more—fingers cocked like a conductor ready to call in a tempest.

Blue sigils erupted in the air around her, ancient runes unraveling outward in a lacy, shining web. The earth under her feet gleamed. Mist condensed—summoned from the very air itself—forming a pool that flowed like liquid glass.

And then, in an instant, she was standing on top of it, floating on a disk of churning water, raised and balanced like a queen on the day of judgment.

Leon’s heart almost stopped.

That. wasn’t typical water magic.

He’d battled scores of Grandmasters before. None of them had ever manipulated the elements so easily, with such finesse—like she was summoning an old friend, not coercing a spell.

"Water magic," he grumbled, his tone low. "Top-of-the-line. But this is not mere skill—"

"No," Nova cut in, moving into place alongside him. She was tense, her voice laced with unease. "That’s not Grandmaster-level. No Grandmaster can tap that level of elemental mastery. Not without complete attunement."

Leon’s gaze narrowed.

He sensed it too now. The pressure. The heaviness in the air. Not only spiritual power—it was deeper, older. As if the garden itself had been taken over by her will.

His reflexes snapped into action.

"System," he muttered. "Scan her."

[Scanning Target...]

A flicker escaped his eyes.

[Target: Natasha]

[Name: Natasha

Age: 29

Cultivation: Monarch Realm

Race: Human

Talent: Elite

HP: 100/100

STR: 56/100

AGL: 58/100

VIT: 57/100

STM: 55/100

INT: 34/100

DEF: 56/100

[Love Meter: 52% – Conflicted interest detected.]

Leon blinked.

Monarch.

His jaw clenched. "Damn. She’s at Monarch level."

Nova’s eyes snapped to him. "She’s what?"

"She’s Monarch Realm," Leon said, voice low and steady. "That’s a full realm above us."

The temperature dropped. A sharp chill bled into the air as mist curled around Natasha’s fingers—graceful tendrils shaping themselves into slender, glistening blades of ice. Her aura expanded outward in a slow, crushing wave. It wasn’t raw force—it was mastery. Elemental perfection.

Leon could sense it. Each breath she breathed sent ripples through the humidity in the air. The water responded to her like a devoted servant.

Monarch Realm. A realm where cultivators didn’t merely employ an element—they became one with it.

His eyes narrowed. She picked water. And she’s a damn artist with it.

Nova took a step forward, her voice at a whisper. "This won’t be easy."

Leon breathed in slowly, keeping his heartbeat steady. Serene, yet intent.

His golden irises connected with Natasha’s pitch-black ones through the glinting dome of the barrier. "So. Monarch Realm, then?"

Natasha smiled, nearly flirtatious. "Took you long enough."

Leon’s lips curled. "Good. I’ve always been curious to see what we’d look like at our limits."

Nova’s lips formed a tiny smile in defiance of the tension. She too nodded, her eyes steady and bright. They didn’t have to say it out loud—but the excitement was present.

They weren’t scared.

They were enthused.

Two combat crazies, moths to the flame.

And Natasha witnessed it. Her teasing smile wavered, just a fraction.

Then she threw up both hands.

A torrent of magic erupted outward. Water writhed horribly from the stone floor—streaming up in curled rivulets, branching into spears, whips, and blades. Shapes swirled and danced about her like a living tempest, her aura crackling with crushing intensity.

It moved like the ocean.

Beautiful.

Relentless.

Merciless.

Leon remained firm, body relaxed but intent. She’s a Monarch. This is going to test us.

"Nova," he told her, without so much as glancing in her direction,

"if you do get a shot—"

"I’ll take it," she interrupted. Her voice was low, firm. "I wasn’t going to ask you."

They moved together.

A streak of motion.

Nova cut right, wind streaming around her as she disappeared into speed. Leon went forward head-on, a flash of gold and shadow, drawing Natasha’s eye like bait.

Crack!

Water spears flew at him—thin and quick like harpoons. Leon dove low, rolled under the cutting arc, and stood in one smooth motion. A burst of golden light ignited on his palm—his blade taking shape mid-spin. He cut.

The spear dissolved into mist.

But the blow never had a chance to land.

Natasha was gone.

She melted like fog, uncatchable. Little more than a blur to the eye.

Above, Nova attacked from the air, her sword wrapped in snapping wind energy. She rotated mid-leap, bending her body for a downward slash.

Clang!

A lash of water curled up to greet her—perfect, precise. It twisted around Nova’s sword, then sent her flying sideways. She dropped into a crouch, gritting her teeth. Behind her, drops clung in suspension, catching the moonlight like shards of broken stars.

Leon’s jaw clamped. She’s not only tough. She’s reading our beat.

She wasn’t responding. She was anticipating.

Natasha’s black eyes glimmered. Then—

Flick.

She wrenched her wrist, and the ground cracked.

A flood of water burst up from below them, coiling into serpent forms—six of them—jaws open, ice fangs. They attacked like beasts.

Nova acted first, disappearing sideways in a flash of motion, cutting through one serpent’s neck. Water burst, but another serpent hit from the rear.

Leon confronted it halfway through the lunge.

He glided forward, sword shining with golden strands of power. Voidbreaker Form. His fist glittered, tore the water-beast apart, and continued on its path. But as the serpent hit the ground, the liquid reassembled behind him, attacking once more.

Unrelenting.

They fought in sync—training over years given over to reflex.

Nova spun low, blade swirling in a spiral. Wind burst outward, cutting through another form of water. Her martial art was fast and precise; each motion crafted to strike and reposition. Storm Edge Style. Quick. Adaptive. Deadly.

Leon’s style was more powerful, based in crushing blows and space warping. Each of his punches ripped the air apart, trailing behind them slight threads of glistening emptiness. Voidbreaker. He blinked across the distance into position, standing beside Natasha in a heartbeat.

He attacked.

Her arm contorted—effortless—and a dense slab of packed water confronted his sword, taking the blow. Leon’s legs slid on dripping rock as the counter-energy sent him flying back.

"Damn it—" he snarled, flipping in mid-air and landing next to Nova.

Waves charged again.

Natasha did not pursue. She didn’t have to. The battlefield swayed to her command. Every puddle, every drop—hers.

She moved as if leading an orchestra of devastation.

Effortless. Serene. Cruel.

Leon dodged another lash of water that cut the stone behind him like paper. The strike came an inch from his ribs, hissing through the air.

"She’s playing with us," Nova hissed, panting at his side.

Leon’s mind spun. He could see it—how her movements never wasted a single step. How she guided their attacks like a stream directs leaves—without effort.

At this rate... we’ll lose.

He clenched his teeth.

"System," Leon hissed internally, eyes locked on Natasha as she floated in her throne of water. "Give me something. Anything to defeat her."]