CHAPTER 318: WHISPERED FEARS

Whispered Fears

The interior of Leon’s chamber was hewn from thick, solid stone, each wall smooth and reinforced by magic and muscle. Warm yellow orbs glowed faintly above, casting the space in a gentle amber light.

At the center stood a wide table with some chair around of table, and table surface was cover by its dark sheets drawn tight and neat, clearly prepared in advance. On either side, tall stone doors were etched with faded Moonwalker emblems—marks of an ancient bloodline. Each detail whispered of lineage and secrets, of a history kept behind closed walls.

The shelves along the walls were crowded: scrolls curled with age, blades worn but still sharp, relics and enchanted fragments resting beside maps drawn in careful ink. No windows broke the stone, only a few thin vertical slits high above, letting in faint drafts. This wasn’t just a room—it was a sanctuary carved into the mountain’s heart, a place tied to Leon’s name and legacy, passed down in silence.

At the back, partially hidden behind a weighted curtain of stone and cloth, another smaller room branched off—quiet, solemn. A sacred place used only when the Moonwalker line needed absolute peace. A place for solitude... or secret counsel.

Leon stepped inside with a slow breath, his shoulders sagging just slightly. His wives and maids followed, their footsteps soft against the floor. When the door shut behind them, sealing off the faint hum of the shelter outside, the tension in him eased. His spine straightened, but in a looser way. The tightness in his neck slackened. His face softened.

He glanced over his shoulder at them with a faint smile—tired, honest.

"Let’s sleep together tonight," he said. "You’ve all earned it."

But no one moved.

Instead, something subtle shifted in the air.

The women exchanged glances, eyes flashing with quiet amusement and deeper purpose. There was a kind of mischief in their silence—something conspiratorial.

Leon narrowed his eyes just slightly. "...What?"

They held their silence.

Then Aria stepped forward, her movements as graceful as the slow turn of moonlight over water. Her violet eyes gleamed with something he couldn’t quite read. Her lips curved in a teasing, deliberate smirk.

"Darling," she said, her voice a soft ribbon of sound, "tonight, we’re not sleeping all together."

Leon tilted his head, caught off guard. "What?"

Aria’s smile deepened. "You’ll sleep with Lira tonight. Just the two of you."

Lira flinched, crimson blooming across her cheeks. "W-Wait—W-What? Sister!" she squeaked.

But Cynthia, ever composed, added calmly, "She’s right. You need to spend time with her."

Rias chimed in with a wicked grin, voice light and sultry. "Go with Lira, Daddy~. Don’t make her wait."

Lira looked like she wanted to vanish on the spot. "R-Rias..."

Leon started to speak, a protest on his lips—but something in the atmosphere told him not to.

He could feel it.

They weren’t just teasing. There was something genuine beneath the laughter, something they’d already agreed on.

Syra stepped closer, her expression gentle but firm. "Tomorrow, we move toward Blackthorn City. You’re staying behind, even if just for a few days. We’ve all had our time with you, Leon. Lira hasn’t." Her voice softened. "We want her to have that. Hold her. Let her feel full you once."

Rias added quietly, "It’s not just about sex, you know. She needs it. Emotionally."

Leon’s gaze found Lira again — the fluster in her face, her eyes refusing to meet his, the way her fingers twisted in her dress. There was a fragility there he hadn’t seen in a while.

He opened his mouth again—

—but something else beat him to it.

A voice rang sharply in his mind.

[Host, accept their suggestion. Go and... fuck LIRA.]

Leon’s expression twitched. What the fuck?

The system had never said anything like that before. Missions, statistics, prompts—sure. But this? This felt personal.

Before he could respond, it spoke again—calm, efficient.

[DO YOU FORGET, Host—completing your mission with Lira grants you a soul-bound artifact.]

That tugged something loose in his memory.

Yes... that mission. He remembered it now.

[Tomorrow, when you attempt the integration with the Velvet Tyrant physique and the blood orb—having a soul-linked artifact will greatly increase your chance of success and unlock unimaginable results.]

Leon stared at Lira again—who still wouldn’t look up.

And deep in his gut... he felt the shift.

This wasn’t just about strategy. This was about her.

Leon blinked, caught between surprise and resignation, then sighed inwardly. Of course—strategy, even in moments like this. That woman never did anything without a reason. He rubbed his temple, still trying to untangle the thoughts whirling in his mind.

But before he could dive deeper, a gentle poke landed on his chest.

He glanced down—and there she was.

Lira stood close, her silver-white hair faintly glowing under the soft light. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, cheeks flushed a fierce red.

"...Darling? Where did you drift off to?"

Leon blinked again, lips twitching before he gave a slow smile. "Nowhere."

He turned to the others, voice steady. "Alright. I’ll go with her, then. Thank you."

The response was instant. His wives lit up.

Rias waved with a sly grin. "Don’t make her moan too much, okay? Let poor Lira breathe."

Syra chuckled under her breath, leaning lazily against the wall. "And don’t overdo it. We need her alive for tomorrow’s journey, understood, darling?"

The others laughed along, light teasing dancing through the room.

Lira looked like she might melt into the floor, hands nearly covering her burning face.

Leon just laughed, warmth in his voice as he tossed a playful wink her way. "I’ll be gentle."

He reached for her hand, already moving to lead her toward one of the chambers—

But something caught the edge of his vision.

A flicker.

Mia.

She stood further back, alone and quiet. Too quiet.

Leon’s smile faltered. His steps slowed.

She hadn’t said a single word since they entered the room. Not once. He hadn’t seen it earlier—his attention pulled in too many directions—but now, with the noise fading, he finally noticed.

She was smiling.

But her eyes... weren’t.

His chest tightened.

He turned, golden gaze locked on her.

"Mia?" he called softly, his voice dipping low.

The others kept laughing, still caught in their own teasing. Even Lira, flustered and half-hiding behind her hair, didn’t notice the shift in him.

Rias, still facing away, threw the words over her shoulder with a grin. "Don’t tell me... you want Mia tonight too, Daddy?"

But then she turned.

And the second her eyes landed on him—on the way Leon was staring at Mia, on the silence that wrapped around them like something fragile and heavy—her grin vanished.

She didn’t finish the joke. Leon wasn’t smiling.

He walked toward Mia slowly, his expression unreadable, his eyes gentle.

Mia’s head lifted in surprise. "Y-Yes, d-darling?"

He reached out, brushing her black hair with the backs of his fingers—soft, careful, as if afraid she might break.

"What’s wrong?" he murmured. "Something happened?" His voice dropped further. "You’ve been quiet since we got here."

Mia flinched. Her lips trembled, but she didn’t speak yet.

The room had fallen still. The teasing was gone. Concern filled its place.

Leon took another step forward, eyes never leaving hers.

"Talk to me."

Mia blinked rapidly, her gaze drifting, but she didn’t turn away. Her voice finally came—fragile and uncertain.

She looked up at him, startled by her own emotions.

And in those black eyes... something cracked open.

"...I just... I’m worried for my mother."