The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 325 Wedding Night Pranks

Falshed

The grand wedding ceremony unfolded like a dream. Amidst the chanting of blessings and solemn rituals, Isolde and Oliver felt as if they were drifting through a loud of tradition and festivity. Especially Isolde her vision completely obscured by the red bridal veil, she relied solely on Oliver’s steady grip, following his lead. When the wedding attendant commanded them to kneel, she knelt. When it was time to rise, Oliver’s strong hands supported her.

She desperately wanted to lift her veil and take in the grand occasion, but years of martial training harl honed her senses–she could recognize voices, discern footsteps. Yet today, even with her keen hearing. she couldn’t make out how many people were present. The sheer scale of the event overwhelmed her.

At last, the rituals were complete. A boisterous crowd escorted them to Ningser Pavilion, laughter and chatter filling the air. Through the clamor, Isolde could still hear one thing–Oliver’s heartbeat. Fast. Unsteady.

Hers matched his pace.

Taking deep breaths, she fought the dizziness creeping in. Her legs felt weak. No–her entire body felt weak. If not for Oliver’s firm grip, she might have stumbled on the way.

Then, amid the joyful commotion, she heard his voice.

“Isolde, I’ve finally married you. From this day on, through fortune and hardship, I will never let go of your hand.”

Her breath hitched. Did he actually say that? Or was it her imagination? His grip remained steady–no tremor, no extra pressure to confirm or deny.

Before she could dwell on it, they reached the pavilion

“Wait! Wait!” The wedding attendant suddenly called out, halting them in place.

Isolde and Oliver froze, worried they had missed a crucial tradition.

With a teasing smile, the attendant announced, “The groom must cover the bride’s ears.”

Oliver blinked in confusion before hastily cupping his hands around Isolde’s head, shielding her ears.

Isolde tensed. “What’s happening?”

“Firecrackers,” Oliver murmured.

The next moment–BANG!

Explosions erupted around them, a relentless storm of crackling firecrackers sending plumes of smoke into the air. The sharp scent of gunpowder filled their lungs. Isolde flinched at the deafening noise, but she was wrapped in Oliver’s protective embrace, his warmth anchoring her amidst the chaos.

The barrage seemed to go on forever. Even with her ears covered, the thunderous blasts rattled through

her bones.

Finally, as the last echoes faded, the sound of drums and flutes replaced the commotion, guiding them forward. They stepped onto a fresh straw mat, marking their passage into the bridal chamber.

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Inside, the bed was lavishly adorned with red satin and scattered with dates and lychees a symbol of fertility and prosperity. Isolde sat down, only to realize he had landed on something firm.

The poor creature squirmed under her weight, and she instinctively shifted, but the wedding attendant pressed a hand on her shoulder. “Stay still.”

Uncomfortable and slightly panicked, Isolde obeyed, even as the fruits beneath her dug into her skin. Oliver, mistaking her unease for nerves, whispered reassuringly, “Just a little longer, and I’ll lift the veil.”

The attendant then presented him with a balance scale tied with a lucky knot. “Groom, lift the bride’s veil From this moment on, may your marriage be harmonious and everlasting.”

Oliver took the scale and glanced over his shoulder. Ese and Patricia Christine stood nearby, smiling at him expectantly.

His pulse thundered in his cars.

Why was he nervous? He had seen her countless times before, yet this moment felt… different.

With deliberate care, he lifted the veil.

First, the curve of her chin. Then, the deep red lips. Finally, her eyes–filled with warmth and mirth- locked onto his.

They held their gaze, lost in each other. A silent promise passed between them.

The wedding attendant chuckled. “The veil is lifted! May your days be filled with joy! Groom, lead the bride to drink the wedding toast.”

A grand banquet table was set up, the room glowing with candlelight. Though the dishes had long gone cold, Isolde’s stomach grumbled at the sight of them. She swallowed hard–so hungry. But tradition demanded patience.

First, the wedding toast. Then, the pranks. Then… food.

Golden cups were filled with wine, a considerate choice, knowing the bride had barely eaten that day.

They raised their goblets and exchanged glances.

Isolde smiled shyly. “I’m grateful to have met you.”

Oliver, caught off guard, blushed furiously. Not realizing he was supposed to respond, he hurriedly repeated, “I’m grateful to have met you.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

The couple’s faces burned brighter. This was entirely unfair–why must they drink the wedding toast in front of an audience?

entwining their arms, they leaned in, their breaths mingling as they

may your hearts remain as

tension eased,

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voice boomed as a horde of raucous soldiers

the groom suffer! Make the bride laugh!”

and Oliver were pulled apart, each surrounded

the husband is stronger than the wife. But is that really the case here? I think

soldiers roared

exactly do you

your back and take a lap

it? Please. I could carry

grinned wider. “Ah, but there’s a catch.”

men. “Bring the ropes!”

“Ropes? What ropes?”

chuckled. “Oh, just a little extra challenge. We’ll be

jaw dropped. “How is he

if he doesn’t reach the ceiling beams,

immediately shook his head. “No way. That’s impossible. I can’t even balance if you tie

in. “Tonight, there are no generals–just

She merely chuckled.

Resistance was futile.

his torso. He could barely

clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “How is he supposed to carry me like

jump on,” Anthony instructed matter–of–factly.

Oliver. “Alright,

attempted to. The ropes restricted him so much he could barely

her arms around his neck and locking

waist

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325 Wedding Night Pranks

whistled. “Now that’s some impressive agility.”

Finished

crowd cheered as they stepped back, watching the bound–and–burdened groom prepare for

the newlyweds too much.

tossed a bag of

Anthony sighed dramatically. “F

Wedding Night

Falshed

if they were drifting through a loud of tradition and festivity. Especially Isolde her vision completely obscured by the red bridal veil, she relied solely on

occasion, but years of martial training harl honed her senses–she could recognize voices, discern footsteps. Yet today, even with her keen hearing. she couldn’t make out how many people were present. The sheer scale of the event overwhelmed her.

chatter filling the air. Through the clamor, Isolde could

matched his

fought the dizziness creeping in. Her legs felt weak. No–her entire body felt weak. If not

the joyful commotion, she heard his

fortune and hardship,

say that? Or was it her imagination? His grip

dwell on it, they reached

wedding attendant suddenly called out, halting them

froze, worried they had missed

the attendant announced, “The groom must cover

his hands around Isolde’s head, shielding her ears.

“What’s happening?”

“Firecrackers,” Oliver murmured.

The next moment–BANG!

a relentless storm of crackling firecrackers sending plumes of smoke into the air. The sharp scent of gunpowder filled their lungs. Isolde flinched at the deafening noise, but she was wrapped in Oliver’s protective embrace,

on forever. Even with

her bones.

the commotion, guiding them forward. They stepped onto a fresh straw mat, marking their

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325 Wedding

Finished

symbol of fertility and prosperity. Isolde sat down, only

squirmed under her weight, and she instinctively shifted, but the wedding attendant pressed a hand

dug into her skin. Oliver, mistaking her unease for

presented him with a balance scale tied with a lucky knot. “Groom, lift the bride’s veil From this moment on, may your marriage be harmonious and everlasting.”

the scale and glanced over his shoulder. Ese and Patricia Christine stood nearby, smiling at him expectantly.

pulse thundered in his

He had seen her countless times before, yet this moment felt… different.

care, he lifted the veil.

her chin. Then, the deep red lips. Finally, her eyes–filled with warmth and

lost in each other. A silent promise

attendant chuckled. “The veil is lifted! May your days be filled with joy! Groom, lead the

banquet table was set up, the room glowing with candlelight. Though the dishes had long gone cold,

toast. Then, the