They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System
Chapter 159 - 159 Haran Warriors

Chapter 159: Haran Warriors Chapter 159: Haran Warriors Queen Chioma was really getting tired of chasing after Ebere everytime she disregarded her image and stormed off!

But what could she do?

Ebere was her only daughter.

Despite this disruption, the cheers for Nnenna did not die down.

She bowed gracefully to the performers and turned to return to her seat.

Lady Rose, who had been watching the entire time from the sidelines, was staring at her with narrowed eyes.

She muttered to herself in disbelief, “I never taught her this dance… The girl must have self learned it for years now!” Meanwhile, at the royal table Somto’s fingers drummed against the armrest, his expression unreadable.

Ikenna’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as well, but his jaw was tight.

And Arthur… Arthur still hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

His mind whirled with memories, questions, and something he couldn’t quite place.

Her movements… her skill… it was too familiar.

As the grand hall settled, the next performance was announced, the Haran Kingdom’s War Dance.

A hush fell over the room.

The moment the performers stepped forward, the air shifted.

The dancers were unlike the previous entertainers, there was no silk, no embellishments, no dazzling fabrics to enchant the eyes.

Instead, they wore plain, durable tunics that clung to their powerful frames, their rank insignias embroidered in deep crimson on their chests.

Their presence alone sent a ripple of unease through the audience.

And then, the drums began.

A deep, primal beat that echoed through the bones of everyone present.

With precise, disciplined movements, the warriors moved as one, each step thunderous, each motion deliberate.

Their bodies twisted and turned in a dance that was not meant to entertain but to intimidate.

This was a story of war.

Of victory.

Of Haran’s might.

The synchronized clash of wooden spears, the rhythmic stomping, the sharp, controlled battle cries, all of it painted a vivid picture of warriors on the battlefield, moving in perfect harmony as they crushed their enemies.

The crowd watched in awed silence.

Then came the whispers.

“This… this isn’t just a performance!” “They’re clearly showing us their discipline… their strength.” “It’s a warning.

They could be dancing in celebration of our downfall one day.” A fresh wave of fear and admiration spread through the audience.

Even those who had doubted Haran’s power before now understood.

And at their royal table, the Haran royalties and their entourage watched with silent approval.

Their outfits for the evening were exquisite but not extravagant, reflecting their nature, practical, strong, and commanding respect without the need for excess.

As the dance reached its climax, the warriors let out one final, unified battle cry.

A sound so sharp and powerful that it shook the very core of those watching.

Then, silence.

The performance was over.

And yet, the tension remained.

The Haran dancers stood tall and unwavering, their faces unreadable, their message clear Haran is not to be underestimated.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then, slowly, applause erupted.

It was hesitant at first, but it grew, some clapping out of genuine admiration, others out of sheer relief that the performance had ended without them being the target of that battle cry.

The King of Haran nodded in approval, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if memorizing who understood their message and who did not.

In that moment, one thing was certain Haran had left an intimidating impression.

As the echoes of the Haran war dance faded, the atmosphere in the grand hall slowly shifted once again.

The host announced the next performance, a solo from the Dixan Kingdom’s most talented singer.

A sense of anticipation filled the air.

Unlike the intimidating display of Haran, Dixan was known for its artistry, archery, poetry, and music.

Their kingdom thrived on culture and elegance, and their performances always carried an air of refinement.

Then, she appeared.

A woman draped in flowing silver and lavender robes, her presence ethereal, like a moonlit dream.

She stepped gracefully onto the elevated stage at the center of the ballroom, where the spotlight fell upon her like a heavenly glow.

Then, silence.

And the first note pierced the air.

A voice so clear, so hauntingly beautiful, that the entire hall froze.

Her song wasn’t just music, it was miracle.

Each note carried emotion, drawing the audience in, making them feel every word, every sorrow, every longing.

It was a tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of a heart reaching for something it could never have.

Some guests closed their eyes, letting the melody seep into their souls.

Others stared in awe, mesmerized by the sheer control and power in her voice.

And then came the whispers “Her voice…

it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard.” “I feel like I’m floating…

this is unreal.” “Even the walls seem to be listening.” Even those who were not easily impressed found themselves silent, entranced by the performance.

Nnenna, watching from her seat, felt something stir in her chest.

She had heard many talented singers before, but this…

this was something else.

Something divine.

Even the Haran warriors, usually unfazed by displays of art, watched with quiet respect, though they would never openly admit it.

The King and Queen of Dixan sat proudly, their expressions unreadable, but their eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Their singer was not just performing, she was conquering the hearts of everyone present.

As the song neared its end, the final note hung in the air, delicate yet powerful, like the last shimmer of a star before dawn.

And then, silence.

For a moment, no one breathed.

And then, thunderous applause.

It was different from the applause given to the Haran warriors.

This was not out of fear or relief, it was pure admiration.

Some even stood, clapping louder than before, moved beyond words.

The Dixan singer gave a graceful bow, her expression serene, but the flicker in her eyes showed that she knew She had won them over.

And Dixan had proven its mastery over the art of music and not just archery.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS JedidiahBeaufoy Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!