The brief silence in the hall was as if pierced by a spark igniting.
The first to react was an old craftsman sitting in the corner. He raised his clay cup high and shouted the inaugural cheer: "Long live the Red Tide! Long live Lord Louis!"
Immediately, that voice erupted like a torrent from all directions.
"Long live!"
"Long live the Red Tide!!"
"Cheers to Lord Louis!!"
The applause, cheers, and clinking of cups formed a burgeoning wave, as if shaking the entire hall.
Some were moved to tears, others clenched their fists in ceaseless waves, and still others took hearty gulps of spirits while shouting, their faces wearing smiles of long-lost joy.
The gratitude on their faces wasn't blind adoration, but a heartfelt recognition.
Emily sat at the table, her heartbeat rising and falling with every cheer of "Long live the Red Tide."
This was not just the climax of a banquet, but the awakening of a territory's soul.
