The air inside the banquet hall had shifted.
What was once a victory celebration had evolved into something far more primal, far more chaotic—and far more entertaining. The music had grown faster, drums pounding like war calls, flutes spiraling through the air like dueling swords. Torches on the walls flickered wildly, their light dancing across tankards, armor, and flushed faces.
The scent of spiced ale and roasted meat mingled with sweat and laughter, as if the hall itself had come alive.
And at the center of this wild, swirling storm stood Christian—half knight, half glittery disaster—wobbling his way up to the central platform again. His arms shot into the air, cloak flaring behind him.
"NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT!!" he roared, slurring with all the confidence of a man three mugs past common sense. "Luci… versus… Brian!!"
A wave of cheers erupted from the crowd, louder than before. Knights banged their mugs on the tables in rhythm, the sound echoing like war drums.
