Tower: Rebirth of the Absolute Demon-Chapter 53: Ch : The Fall of Celebration

Imperial City, Lionheart Kingdom.

{An Hour Ago...}

The grand hall of the Lionheart castle was alive with vibrancy and joy.

Crystal chandeliers bathed the space in golden light, reflecting off marble floors polished to perfection.

Intricately woven banners of the Lionheart family crest... golden lions roaring proudly on crimson cloth... adorned the towering walls.

Servants bustled quietly in the background, ensuring wine glasses remained filled and trays of delicacies circulated without pause.

The air was thick with the chatter and laughter of nobles, mingling like birds in a harmonious orchestra.

Everywhere one looked, extravagance reigned.

Gowns of fine silk embroidered with precious gems, suits tailored with gold-threaded fabrics... each guest competed to be the center of admiration.

In the heart of this opulent chaos stood a young man, surrounded by an ever-growing cluster of ladies.

"Lord Jamie, you must allow me the honor of a dance tonight!" one lady exclaimed, fluttering her fan dramatically.

"No, no, Milord," another interrupted, her voice coy but firm.

"Surely you’ll taste the dessert I prepared? It’s a family recipe, made just for you."

The women around him seemed like wolves in a bidding war, vying for the favor of their prize... the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor.

Their rivalry was no less fierce than a group of shoppers clawing over a limited-edition luxury item on sale.

Jamie Lionheart, the current patriarch of the Lionheart family, smiled politely at each of them, unbothered by the fuss.

He was a striking figure... his golden-blonde hair shone like sunlight, his sharp golden eyes carrying the fierce majesty of a lion.

Though only twenty years old, his confidence and bearing demanded respect.

Finally, he raised a hand, his voice cutting through the chatter like a blade.

"Ladies, you flatter me endlessly. You’ve made tonight even brighter."

The crowd laughed softly at his charm, their admiration for him only deepening.

Jamie stepped away from the swarm of eager admirers and made his way toward the center of the hall.

The nobles instinctively parted, their eyes following his every movement.

Jamie climbed onto the small dais set for speeches, standing tall before the gathering.

He drew in a steady breath, his voice clear and commanding.

"Everyone! I’d like to say something to all those present here tonight."

The room fell silent.

All eyes fixed on him as the golden glow of the chandeliers seemed to center on the young patriarch.

"First and foremost, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for attending this celebration."

The nobles nodded, smiling with satisfaction.

The atmosphere was jubilant... glasses clinked faintly as some guests whispered their approval of Jamie’s grace.

But Jamie’s expression grew somber, his golden gaze darkening.

"Tonight is special to me, but it’s also a night that reminds me of loss."

The crowd shifted uncomfortably as a hush fell over the hall.

"The death of my father, the last patriarch of the Lionheart family, still haunts me. I can see it, even now... his final moments as he stood against the dark mages, sacrificing his life to save the kingdom."

Some of the older nobles lowered their heads respectfully, remembering the day the former patriarch had perished.

Jamie’s voice grew softer, but his words carried weight.

"Before his death, my father entrusted me with something... something that would decide the future of our family and our kingdom."

The crowd watched in rapt attention as Jamie unsheathed the sword at his waist.

It wasn’t just any blade.

The pristine white blade shimmered faintly, ethereal, as though carved from the light itself.

"For eight years..." Jamie continued, raising the sword high...

"I’ve struggled to understand the technique my father left behind. I’ve trained, I’ve failed, and I’ve fought to master it." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

The room grew still, the air thick with anticipation. Jamie’s grip on the hilt tightened as he unleashed his aura.

A pulse of energy erupted from him. It was not the gentle hum of power one expected but a sudden, suffocating force.

It hit the crowd like a wall, forcing them to freeze in place. Some clutched their throats instinctively as if a lion’s jaws had closed around them.

But just as swiftly as the killing aura appeared, it shifted.

The suffocating pressure softened, becoming a shield rather than a weapon... no longer the aura of a predator but that of a protector.

Gasps echoed across the hall as the blade began to glow.

A golden hue, brighter than the chandeliers, enveloped it and began condensing into a tangible shape.

It was sword aura... an energy so refined and rare that few warriors ever achieved it.

The golden light stretched outward, forming a shimmering extension of the blade itself. It was as though Jamie now wielded a weapon of pure light.

"By the heavens... that’s sword aura!" one noble whispered in awe.

"He’s only twenty! How is that possible?" another exclaimed.

Murmurs spread like wildfire.

Shock, admiration, and disbelief surged through the crowd.

For a moment, silence returned as they all stared, then someone shouted...

"Long live the Lionheart!"

The chant spread instantly, echoing through the hall as nobles and knights alike raised their cups in celebration.

"Long live the Lionheart! Long live the Lionheart!"

Jamie lowered his blade, a triumphant smile gracing his face.

The energy that flowed through him felt natural now, as though his father’s legacy had finally taken root.

The kingdom rejoiced... the nobles because a master-ranked knight had emerged at such a young age, and the commoners because joy and celebration filled their hearts.

But happiness, as always, is fragile.

It began as a whisper... an invisible change in the air. The chandeliers flickered.

The golden warmth of the hall dimmed as a cold wind swept through, sending shivers down spines.

Some laughed nervously, dismissing it as a draft, but Jamie’s golden eyes narrowed.

Something was wrong.

The wind grew colder.

Outside the windows, the once starry night turned ominous as dark clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the moon.

Jamie unsheathed his sword again, his voice ringing with urgency.

"Everyone! RUN! LIONHEARTS! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!"

Confusion rippled through the crowd. Some nobles stared at him blankly, while others chuckled nervously, believing the young patriarch had lost his composure.

"What is he talking about?" someone murmured.

"An attack? Impossible."

Jamie’s face contorted with frustration. He turned to the window, his instincts screaming danger.

Then, it happened.

The clouds above parted... not for sunlight, but for something worse.

A blinding flash lit the sky, and a thunderous BOOM followed.

The castle trembled violently.

Before anyone could react, the explosion erupted.

A shockwave tore through the hall. Marble walls cracked, chandeliers shattered, and screams filled the air.

The once-grand castle was obliterated in an instant, reduced to rubble and smoke.

Jamie was thrown back, but as his vision blurred, he heard it... an eerie, echoing laughter. A laugh that carried malice and chaos, reverberating through the destruction.

In the distance, the terrified cries of the city’s people began, their voices rising like a chorus of despair.

The celebration was over.

Happiness had vanished, leaving only smoke, fire, and death.

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