Chapter 774: Chains Disguised As Protection
Chains Disguised as Protection
Leon looked at all of them.
One by one.
Then spoke.
Calm.
Firm.
"Now..."
A small pause.
"Please sign."
No one moved.
Not a shift of fabric. Not the scrape of a shoe. Even the air itself felt suspended, as if the room had decided to hold its breath.
The parchments hovered between them—softly glowing, unmoving. Patient. Waiting.
Watching.
Leon didn’t look away.
His gaze moved across each of them again, slower this time. Measuring. Reading what they wouldn’t say out loud. His expression didn’t change, but there was something beneath it—something heavy, something already decided.
"...You’ve all read it," he said quietly.
No one answered.
Of course they had.
Rias stood still, her fingers curled slightly at her side, nails pressing faintly into her palm. Her eyes were locked on the parchment in front of her—but she wasn’t reading it.
She didn’t need to.
Every word was already burned into her mind.
Every condition.
Every consequence.
That wasn’t what made her hesitate.
Her gaze shifted.
Slowly.
From the parchment... to him.
Leon.
Standing there like nothing about this was wrong.
Like this was just another step. Another move. Another decision already made before anyone else had the chance to speak.
Her chest tightened.
A whisper slipped out, half-hidden in silence. It wasn’t loud, yet the quiet made space for it, let it spread like a crack across glass.
Leon heard it.
He would have done it, naturally.
A brief shift passed through his eyes, drawn to the sound - yet silence held him. Calm filled his next words, spoken without pause.
"This isn’t a request."
This time, the weight of them settled deeper.
Not loud.
But absolute.
A quiet unease crept in - postures tightened, breathing slowed, glances darting around, waiting for a signal. Someone had to break the stillness.
No one did.
A quiet puff of air slipped out between Rias’s lips, drifting down from her nostrils like smoke after a long pause.
Not shaky.
Not weak.
Controlled.
But tight.
A tremor ran through her fingers before they rose a breath above the page. The space between skin and paper narrowed without touch.
Then stopped.
She kept her hands away from it.
Didn’t even try.
She spoke softly, almost too calm. A question shaped by silence beneath the words. Not quite trembling - yet not still either.
For a moment, silence came from Leon. Then nothing more.
That silence...
It said enough.
Rias closed her mouth just a bit. A soft line formed where her lips met.
Of course.
He would have done it, naturally.
A shift came into her eyes, not quite fury, yet deeper than that. Something tangled took hold instead.
Disappointment.
"...No."
Soft came her words, barely above a whisper.
Yet it moved across the room as if slicing air. It passed fast, sharp, quiet - no sound but its path.
The sound did not bounce back - instead it sank. Weighted. Inescapable.
A hush held everyone still. The space between breaths grew thick, as if walls could sense the coming shift.
His eyes moved toward her.
Not surprised.
Not angry.
Just... waiting.
Quiet sat heavy, wrong somehow. Not a word against it. Didn’t fight back at all. Stillness instead - like waiting for rain after days of dark clouds. The moment hung, open-ended.
Rias moved ahead one step.
Each step she took left a quiet tap on the ground, loud only because nothing else moved.
A flicker of red glowed in her gaze - no anger there, just a quiet intensity beneath.
Something that hurt.
"...I won’t sign this."
Almost without notice, her hands tensed, fingertips digging just enough to leave marks. Pain kept her grounded, a quiet anchor in motionless air.
"You really thought we would?" she added, quieter now - but steadier. "That we’d just... accept this?"
Something stirred among them. A shift moved through the group.
Quiet instead. Still, without fuss.
There it was - noticeable in how shoulders shifted, in the quiet clench of teeth, in glances darting from Leon to the paper laid out on the table.
Sona moved to stand next to her.
Frozen stillness in her posture. Quiet control across her face. Yet that look of hers - piercing, like a blade drawn slow.
"...This isn’t a contract."
Quiet stood louder than words ever could. Her calm carried weight without effort.
A flicker of her gaze touched the paper before finding Leon again.
"...This is you forcing us to choose between obedience and your life."
A faint pause.
"And you know exactly which one we’ll choose," she added, softer - but heavier.
Fingers at her side pressed a little harder. A quiet grip built there.
A twitch, barely there, still caught the eye.
She spoke softer now, though tension hummed underneath.
"...That’s not a fair choice."
Her eyes stayed on him, searching, as if piecing together how he became who stood there now.
"Or do you think we wouldn’t notice?" she murmured. "You’re cornering us... and calling it protection."
Nova scoffed softly.
A hush came out of it, barely sure.
"...Fair?"
Footsteps came quicker now, each one cutting through the quiet like a blade. Her body moved differently - tighter, freer at once, as if something loose had finally snapped into place.
"This isn’t even close to fair."
Those green eyes stayed fixed on Leon, steady without a blink.
"You’re putting your life as collateral just to make sure we stay behind."
A hush followed her tightened mouth when she spoke again, softer but sharper
"Do you really think so little of us?"
Cynthia spoke next.
Slow.
Measured.
Each term picked with care. Not one placed by accident.
"...You’re taking away our right to protect you."
Fingers laced together just below her collarbone, yet spine rigid like a rule drawn through ink.
Not a strategy, that’s what she said next, eyes locked right on Leon. Her voice didn’t rise. Just laid it out flat, like pavement after rain.
"That’s control."
Quietly the word arrived. Not shouted, but clear instead - almost as if known long before spoken.
A silence hung there, slight yet thick, as if a thread were strained to snapping. Nobody moved to break it.
"It’s not right for you," she said, quieter now - not less certain, but nearer. Truer.
Cassidy moved closer, hand tensing just a moment before words came out.
Yet she called it trust, a whisper that held its ground. Just because the word was spoken did not mean the thing existed
The air tightened.
Something more than stress filled the air - this weight sat heavy, right above the heart. A quiet challenge hid inside it, waiting to see who would move before the silence did.
Behind them -
Ronan exhaled deeply.
A hush, yet it reached far. Within that single breath rested decade upon decade of faithfulness.
"My king..."
One foot moved ahead, careful, measured, each movement picked by him. The pace dragged, intentional, as if testing the ground before committing fully.
"...This is not something a ruler should do."