CHAPTER 213: CHAPTER 178: DANCE BENEATH THE FIREWORKS

He spoke very seriously, as if he were discussing a high-precision explosive project.

"It’s just that the noise might be a bit loud." Hillco paused and turned to look at Louis, "Probably as loud as... a large magic explosion bullet."

Louis shrugged, he didn’t really mind, after all, the place where the fireworks were to be set off was far from the wedding venue.

In the distance, a few alchemy apprentices had already completed the final preparations. One person quickly ran over to report: "All devices are ready, the Demon Marrow is fully loaded, the procedure is clear and definite."

Upon hearing this, Hillco’s spirits lifted, revealing an uncharacteristic look of anticipation.

He waved to everyone, his voice clear: "Everyone, step back thirty paces! Begin the launch!"

The alchemy apprentices quickly scattered, and Hillco pressed a hand against the activation device in front of him.

The next moment, several cylinder-shaped devices emitted a low hum, then with a "bang," they tore through the night sky, whistling upwards with metal tails ripping through the air.

Soon after

"Boom!"

In the sky above, the first firework suddenly exploded like a blazing lotus in full bloom. Crimson flames poured down like a waterfall, dragging trails of burning patterns across the night sky.

"Pop!"

The second burst into a blue light, cool and deep, like ice crystals shattering among the red flames, illuminating the night in an instant.

"Boom—Bang—Pop!"

The successive explosions resonated in the air like drumbeats, with three colors intertwined, and golden starry fragments streaked across the sky like meteors.

The trailing flames intertwined and whirled in the air, like a divine being wielding a paintbrush, dyeing the pitch-black sky into a massive, burning canvas.

It wasn’t a piercing roar, but a heavy and deep explosion, like war drums, or like a heartbeat, pounding heavily in everyone’s chest.

Louis raised his head, watching the gradually dissipating remnants of the flames, his eyes slightly moving, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

He whispered to himself, "Better than I expected."

Though it couldn’t replicate the multi-layered bursts and star-like brilliance of the fireworks from New Year’s Eve in his previous life, the complex patterns and long rhythm were missing, and overall it was rougher.

But in this world where the concept of "fireworks" had never existed, this scene was enough to move hearts.

Crude, yet striking, simple yet genuine.

He slowly turned his head to look at Hillco standing nearby by the launch platform.

He was standing there with his arms crossed, looking rather peculiar, as if saying, "What kind of explosion is this?"

"Not bad..." Louis said earnestly, "This is what I wanted. It’s just that it could be improved a bit, to make it... more beautiful. For example, less violent, softer colors, shapes more... like flowers, not explosions."

"Flowers?" Hillco furrowed his brows, as if he had heard some heretic nonsense.

He gestured with a somewhat unorthodox hand sign learned who-knows-where: "If you really want me to make those soft, non-explosive fireballs that neither hurt nor explode, I might need to reassess the definition of ’explosion.’"

Louis shrugged helplessly: "I want to release them at the wedding, not on the battlefield!"

"However, it’s not difficult to change." Hillco, after grumbling, reverted to the alchemist’s calm of converting any emotional request into a formula, "You need to first tell me which part of ’beauty’ you’re referring to?

Is it the lack of elegance in the flower shape? The colors not pure enough? Or perhaps the firing frequency lacking rhythm? Of course, I can try them all."

He grinned, "That’s pretty simple, I can make it happen."

Sif stood beside Louis, gazing at the night sky.

The fireworks slowly bloomed overhead, like a meteor waterfall hanging upside-down in the night sky, with red, blue, and gold alternating and curling, like a divine being’s hand painting an incredible dream.

In her eyes flashed shock and joy, like a child seeing the world’s wonders for the first time.

It was a romantic scene she had never imagined, like a fairy tale, like a dream, like a miracle that would only happen in distant lands.

But that joy didn’t linger for long.

Because suddenly, she remembered something.

These fireworks weren’t meant for her.

Though she had long told herself not to expect anything, though she had long understood that there could be nothing bold and open between them.

Yet even so, witnessing such a miracle, it was hard not to feel... a bit sad.

The smile on her face gradually faded, her gaze dropped a little, and her long lashes lowered slightly.

The wind blew across her hair, and she gently bit her lower lip, as if trying to suppress an emotion that shouldn’t surface, then turned quietly, intending to leave the afterglow of that light.

"It’s your first time seeing this too, right?" Louis’s voice suddenly sounded from behind.

Sif paused, her foot that had just stepped halted.

When she turned back, he was already standing in front of her with a smile, a subtle mischievousness on his face, coupled with a bit of clumsy tenderness.

"Well, how did it look?" he asked, his tone relaxed as if discussing a rainbow after the rain.

She didn’t immediately respond.

Because it really was beautiful.

But... that beauty didn’t belong to her.

She dropped her gaze, didn’t speak the "but" she intended to say, but that calm demeanor betrayed her feelings clearly.

Louis looked at her, didn’t continue to ask, just fell silent for a moment.

Then he suddenly stepped back half a pace, bowed slightly, and extended a hand, making an exaggerated yet very gentlemanly gesture of invitation.

"So... would you like to dance with me?"

He said with a smile, his voice low and gentle, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Sif was stunned for a moment.

She hadn’t expected to hear such an invitation at this moment, in this place.

Nor did she expect that, at a moment when the fireworks hadn’t fully dissipated, Louis would, in this way, seemingly deliberately, leave her a personal memory.

"Can you dance?" she asked softly, with a hint of doubt and challenge in her tone.

"No." Louis answered frankly, "But I’ll try not to step on your feet."

In that instant, Sif couldn’t help but smile, the little bit of sadness in her eyes illuminated again by the lingering glow of the fireworks.

So she extended her hand, lightly placing it in his palm.

The two stood in the middle of the open ground, with no music, no dance floor, only the lingering flames in the sky and the gently flickering firelight in the wind.

Their steps were not graceful, and their movements were slightly awkward, but neither of them cared.

Sif leaned gently against Louis, palm touching his, feeling the slight coolness of his body temperature, like the night wind, and also like... a long-lost comfort.

The longer she stood beside him, the more Sif could feel the depth beyond his years in those eyes.

Behind that gentle demeanor, there was an extremely determined will and a frighteningly calm judgment.

He was someone truly capable of changing the tides of a battle, reshaping order.

And also... one of the few willing to leave a flame, to light a lamp for others on this harsh wasteland.

She watched his imperfect dancing yet his effort to maintain a gentleman’s posture, and suddenly a feeling of indescribable tenderness welled up in her heart.

Perhaps in his heart, she wasn’t special.

In the future, he was destined to marry other women, perhaps more than one or two.

This world is terrifyingly lenient to the powerful, especially for Noble Lords like him, it was nothing unusual to have many wives and concubines.

She knew.

She had always known.

Just like she knew this dance wasn’t prepared for her, the fireworks didn’t bloom for her, and the future wasn’t meant to be left for her.

But she still reached out her hand.

As long as this moment, he was dancing with her.

As long as in this fleeting moment of lingering light, she could stand by his side, even if only once, only for a moment.

She was willing to hide this memory in the softest part of her heart, not demanding, not asking for more.

"Louis..." she whispered, voice almost inaudible, as if afraid to disrupt this quietly arrived dream.

She didn’t know what expectations she should have for him.

Maybe none.

But she was willing to be with him, at least for now.

Not for power, not for responsibility, just for... this moment, he was looking at her, holding her hand.