Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 70: The Black Gold Company [Part-2]

The Black Gold Company [Part-2]

With the group proceeding into the ornate Black Gold Company, gentle illumination from suspending magical lanterns lit the elegant stride. A white attendant robe-clad male attendant proceeded to step ahead, his demeanor flawless, face holding a shiny professional smile. Hand over his chest, he bowed low.

"Welcome to the Black Gold Company," he uttered with plain sophistication. "How can I serve you, noble guests?

The abrupt voice of attendant shattered the quiet reflections hovering between the group. Leon, who had been regarding the shimmering exhibits along the wall, turned his eyes towards the attendant. His eyes were unruffled, unwavering.

The attendant was a thin man in his early thirties, with well-parted hair and a crystal service badge pinned above his chest. Every detail about him screamed trained refinement.

Leon gave him a courteous smile. "I’ve heard that your shop offers the best magical ornaments and jewelry in all of Silver City," he said. "So, we’ve come here to buy something special."

Leon offered a warm, courteous smile. "I’ve heard your shop carries the finest magical ornaments and jewelry in Silver City," he said, his tone both polite and curious "We’ve come to find something special today."

The attendant’s stance relaxed a fraction, pride shining through in his gaze. "You heard correctly, sir. Our collection is unparalleled—rare enchantments, skilled craftsmanship, all selected with care."

Leon nodded pensively.

The attendant’s tone continued silky and professional. "If I might inquire, what kind of magical item are you looking for? Rings, amulets, something for protection, or is it a gift with significance?

Leon’s gaze flicked toward Aria, subtle but meaningful. She noticed instantly and stepped forward, her presence poised and confident. With a soft clear of her throat, she spoke in a voice that carried quiet authority.

"We’re looking for something elegant," she said. "Refined, but not simple. Beautiful—with dignity. It should reflect both grace and strength."

Her words hung in the air like a command wrapped in silk.

The attendant, clearly impressed, bowed respectfully again. "Yes, ma’am. I think we have a collection that will appeal to your taste exactly. Please, let me show you to our collections."

The attendant took them to a long, gleaming side counter. The black glass glowed under enchanted globes suspended above, sending soft golden light like sunbeams trapped in motionless air. Under the glass, lines of jewelry glowed with subtle power—fine silver chains studded with shining gems, pendants inscribed with runes of clarity, and brooches that throbbed softly like small beating hearts.

"With great pride," the attendant said, voice smooth as silk, "I present our premier display. Each piece here is a masterpiece of both enchantment and craft."

He gestured toward a locket shaped like a swirl of moonlight frozen in silver. "This one enhances mental focus. Favored by spellcasters, scholars, and sages of high standing. It clears the mind, sharpens thought."

He moved his hand to another piece—a delicate golden pendant in the form of a vine, curling around blue mana-crystals. "This gently cultivates the wearer’s life force. It’s usually given to healers, or adventurers heading into the wilds."

Leon leaned forward, his eyes following every line, every rune. The workmanship was exquisite—well-balanced lines, flawless finish, power infused into every thread of gold and silver. But...

His face was still serene. Unmoved.

These are stunning," he said, low and even voice. "But... they look like they need to be gawked at. Not worn."

The attendant blinked, taken aback. "Sir?"

"They’re gorgeous," Leon went on, "but they don’t have presence. No history. No voice. Just... ornamentation."

Aria, standing behind him, crossed her arms, eyes scrunched up. "He’s right. They glitter, but they don’t unique.

Cynthia traced the rim of a red ring and withdrew. "They possess magic. But no significance... And also ...They’re too... ordinary,"

Kyra nodded sharply. And Syra’s eyes rested upon a glinting choker. She dipped her head. "They don’t seem to have life."

The rest went on studying the pieces contemplatively in silence. Aria drummed her finger on a rune-inscribed bracelet, her brow knit. Cynthia examined a pair of sapphire earrings coolly. None of them said anything more—but their silence explained a lot.

Chloe, on the other hand, lingered somewhat behind them, her eyes flicking between the jewelry and Leon. A private corner of her simply wanted to know what he liked.

Leon finally exhaled and backed away from the display. "They just don’t fit what I’m searching for," he said quietly, but with a hint of disappointment. His voice dropped, more to himself than to anyone else. "Nothing here feels... right."

He turned to the attendant. "Then maybe you don’t have anything better?"

The attendant stiffened slightly, obviously flustered. "I—"

Before he could complete, a booming, deep voice sliced through the hall, reverberating off the high shining walls

"You worthless punk! You can’t even deal with noble clients! Get out of the way!" ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Everyone spun as the sound of heavy, hurried footsteps echoed across the marble floor.

A flushed, round man in a close embroidered coat hurried toward them, jeweled rings on almost every finger flashing. His belly bulged against the buttons of his velvet waistcoat, and a gold chain thick as his wrist bumped with each stride. Although his face was wreathed in courtesy, his eyes revealed the fear behind.

"Distinguished visitors," he started, voice honeyed but a little winded. He made a perfunctory bow, deep enough to imply deference without endangering equilibrium. "Forgive my staff’s. unfortunate ineptness."

He stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a ring-laden hand. "I am Torven, the manager of this Silver City office of the Black Gold Company. What do you require — honored guest and I will personally see to it."

When Torven first saw Leon’s group from his desk, he almost let the scroll fall from his fingers.

It was their appearance at first glance that took him aback. The man in the middle—tall, elegant, and so strikingly handsome he could compare to a royal prince — stood with effortless authority. Five women glided around him, each emitting a unique, compelling grace. One strode like a warrior, another with the poise of an aristocrat. Each distinct. Each unforgettable. Even the reserved girl in the back, her eyes cast down and steps subdued, had an aura Torven couldn’t help but notice—an allure that was not of show, but of quiet.

But it wasn’t their good looks alone that paralyzed him.

Torven’s practiced gaze swept over the group. Their robes, while humble in style, were cut from fabric so rich he knew only the richest could afford them. Their stance was regal but not arrogant, their movements silent but authoritative. The manner in which they looked around the room—measured, perceptive, and without doubt—told him more than looks ever could.

He had run this shop for more than twenty years. He had seen countless lords, ministers, ambassadors, and rich merchants. But none of them had ever made his instincts howl the way these strangers did. These were not regular customers. These were individuals who had experienced things, accomplished things. Individuals who were accustomed to being followed—rather than convinced. Torven rose slowly, heart beating faster. He ironed out his coat, shifted his rings, and emerged from behind his desk.

His gut sensed that what followed might alter more than the result of a sale and gain of this branch.

"I noticed the attendant taking you through our display," Torven said warily, fingers laced in front of him as he approached, "But it seems you weren’t impressed with our collection."

Leon’s eyes shifted to him—cool, expressionless.

"They were impressive," Leon said flatly, "but not what we seek."

Torven leaned his head to one side. "May I inquire as to what, exactly, you are looking for?"

Leon didn’t delay. "A necklace," he stated. "But not a bauble for the commoners. Something extraordinary. Elegant. Noble. Rare."

Torven’s murmured in heart. As I expected, he considered. This is no easy buy for mere ornamentation. They’re looking for something special with uniqueness.

Nevertheless, he maintained his tone silky. Professional. "We do have such works, sir," he replied. "But I must point out... the series you’re looking at is our top level. Made by master craftsmen, some are originals. Of course, their value is commensurate."

His gaze traveled around the group—looking for even the barest hint of offense, outrage, or wavering.

There was none.

Leon smiled weakly, his voice cool but playful. "Money is not the issue. Quality—and meaning—are what’s important."

Torven experienced a shiver of awareness. These were not clients to be underestimated "Of course," he exclaimed hastily, bending low. "Then let me take you on a tour few are ever given."

Leon nodded once. "Proceed.

Relief flickered across Torven’s face, quickly replaced by polished poise. "Then, if you’d be so kind... this way, sir," he said, bowing slightly.

He moved with brisk precision, leading them past the gleaming front counter and through a discreet archway veiled by a curtain of deep crimson velvet. The fabric whispered as it parted behind him, revealing a narrow spiral staircase carved from polished Blackstone.

Leon stopped at the bottom, his gaze tightening slightly. His eyes swept up—not suspiciously, but thoughtful curiosity. He still didn’t say anything.

Torven saw the look and smiled reassuringly. "It’s a private gallery," he said and motioned upwards. "Reserved for only those who really look for rarity." And begin walk upstairs

Leon nodded slightly and started up the steep stairs, his footsteps firm and silent on the Blackstone steps. The others were close behind—Aria glided like a ghost, arms folded, her keen eyes taking in every detail. Kyra followed just behind, one hand resting loosely near the concealed dagger hidden in the inner lining of her robe.

Cynthia and Syra moved in flawless silence, their steps elegant, but tension laced their poise—alert, inscrutable. Unafraid. Ready. Always.

Chloe trailed behind, her steps a fraction slower. She looked between the twisting stairwell and Leon in front, her gaze querying—more concerned with the man’s brooding intensity than the jewels they were here for.

They moved up in silence.

At the top, the stairs gave way to a peaceful corridor filled with the soft light of golden lamps—magical flameless orbs suspended in sconces that resembled blossoming lilies. The floor below them was covered in a rich red velvet carpet, and high curtains of the same material lined the walls, gently swaying as if they had been stirred by the breath of ghosts.

Then they saw the guards.

Six of them stood in line along the corridor—black-armored, faceless, as unmoving as statues. Their spears glowed dimly in the magical illumination, crossed over their chests in trained readiness.

The group’s response was universal: no flinch. No word. Nothing but the subtle tightening of Aria’s eyes, the lean of Kyra’s head, and a fleeting dart of Syra’s glance to the nearest guard. Calm. Controlled. Unfazed.

Torven witnessed it all—and was silently amazed.

Even my top guards don’t make them blink, he considered. These aren’t aristocratic dilettantes. These are... dangerous.

But he swallowed hard and gave a courteous smile. "We have things of value on this floor," he said to preclude any misunderstanding. "The guards are for security."

Leon nodded. "Understandable.

They came to the end of the hall, where a double door towered above them. Torven pushed it open—and the group stepped into a gold-lit private showroom.

A giganitic crystal chandelier dangled from above. Velvet drapes lined the walls. The floor was slick polished marble, and padded seats sat in stately corners.

And then—they noticed them.

Jewels. Ornaments. Rings. Enchanted talismans, each preserved in radiant glass vials. Runes glowed softly on every piece. Some emitted flame, others ice, one vibrated with air, and one even beat in rhythm with the heartbeat.

But not a word was said by any of the group.

Leon’s gaze didn’t stay on any single piece for long. Because at the opposite end of the room—illuminated under a concentrated magical light—stood a single pedestal wrapped in crystal glass.

And in it... something glimmered.

He crept slowly forward. The women trailed after him, their eyes hard.

No one spoke.

A stillness filled with tension thicken with each step Leon took towards the display, his eyes catching the shimmer—glowing now with the kindlings of something deep.