Joseph tried to enter the Cathedral, but two more guards appeared behind him and held him by the shoulder.
"Take your filthy hands off ," he said.
To everyone’s surprise, the Guards let go of Joseph. He then stood outside the Cathedral, staring at the Bishop with a cloud of disappointnt settled over his features.
"What’s the Bishop’s son doing here?" murmurs began to buzz from the crowd.
"I heard Lady Beatrice called off their engagent," soone said, their voice above a whisper.
"My bride is waiting for , let inside!" Joseph demanded, gesturing towards Lady Beatrice.
The guards, gripping their spears, exchanged brief glances before pressing their weapons against Joseph’s chest. "We have explicit orders to deny you entry," they declared.
’Tsk!’
Joseph cast another sharp glare at his father. "Are you truly going to permit them to insult ? Of all the individuals you might forbid from entering the cathedral, you choose to ban your own son?"
The Bishop’s shoulders slumped, and a deep sigh escaped him, his eyes heavy with a visible disappointnt that settled across his entire face.
"Please," he begged, "don’t embarrass in front of all these people."
A faint smile appeared on Joseph’s lips as he stepped back. With a swift motion, he wiped his face with his hand, changing his expression from desperation to raw anger.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned forward, fixing a glare on the two guards obstructing his way.
"Get out of my way!" Joseph yelled.
The guards stood motionless, their spears crossed firmly to bar his way.
’Snap!’
"Be gone," Joseph said, snapping his fingers in disgust.
At once, the guards turned into frogs and sprang out of their garnts.
"Ribbit!-ribbit!"
The two frogs hopped away, while Joseph stepped into the cathedral.
Right away, I drew my sword and pointed its tip toward the approaching Joseph.
Joséphine followed suit and placed herself before Lady Beatrice.
Cupcake reached deep within her throat to retrieve her long sword while Lucy forged two daggers from her blood.
’Whirrrrrr...’
Evelyn was twirling the chain attached to her sickle, and it was spinning like the fans of a windmill.
Every eye in the cathedral turned to Joseph, who paused, taking a mont to survey his surroundings. His gaze settled first on the Podium, then swept across the vast space, revealing at least a hundred guards, each ard with a sword, positioned along the periter.
Joseph raised his hands in the air and exclaid, "For God’s sake, I am unard! Everyone should remain calm; I am rely here to get married."
"Bullshit." My grip around the hilt tightened.
All of us watched as he turned two guards into frogs with a snap of his fingers. No one knows how he did it; he did not even chant anything.
"Get out of here at once, you’re not welco!" the bishop commanded.
"Aaaaaah! Father!"
Joseph ran his hands through his dark hair, gripping it tightly in frustration. "Why must you do this to in front of everyone?"
Joseph regained his composure, and the hall fell into a hushed stillness. Guests watched him with wary eyes, their expressions shifting between the urge to flee and the desire to witness the unfolding drama.
Placing a hand on Joséphine and moving her aside, Lady Beatrice advanced to the altar’s edge. "I am not going to marry you. Leave," she stated.
Joseph laughed, eyes on the ceiling, as he stretched his hands and spun like a child. "Your fate was sealed the mont you entered," he declared. "In here, I am god, and disobedience will curse you to turn into a frog."
For a long agonizing mont, utter silence reigned, broken only by the nervous shifting of feet. Faces turned to each other, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and creeping dread.
"Did he... did he just say that?" a voice murmured almost imperceptibly and was quickly shushed by a neighbor.
"Blasphemy!" the Bishop exclaid. "How dare you proclaim yourself as God within the sacred House of the Goddess of Inevitability?"
With a hearty laugh, Joseph brushed off his father and stepped toward the altar. "Not only am I marrying my beloved Beatrice," he announced, "but also marrying the ten brides here. Beatrice would get lonely if I locked her in the basent by herself," he added.
With one foot placed firmly on the altar, Joseph turned to face the rows of n observing him. "Today, I’m taking ho eleven wives; a feat none of you could ever dream of."
A ripple of ’Ha-ha-ha!’ spread through the crowd of n. "Looks like soone’s fresh out of a psychiatrist’s office," one of them comnted, chuckling.
"He doesn’t know how to handle rejection. What a poor soul," another man chid in.
’Hmm.’
Joseph endured the insults with patience.
"Begone," he commanded, and more than thirty n were instantly transford into frogs, hopping across the benches and croaking, "Ribbit! Ribbit!"
Joséphine promptly pulled Lady Beatrice from the altar’s edge, and the five of us ford a protective circle around her.
"He’s using a unique skill; stay alert for now and don’t do anything," Cupcake said, pointing a twelve-foot sword at Joseph.
Positioned directly in front of Lady Beatrice, Joséphine glanced over her shoulder at . "Concentrate," she commanded, "and try to determine how his unique skill functions."
Joseph clapped his hands, cutting off the impending chaos. "Ladies and gentlen," he stated, "I demand absolute silence for my wedding. Any interruption, and I’ll transform everyone in the direction of the noise into frogs."
The low buzz of terrified chatter died instantly as if a great, unseen hand had clamped over every mouth.
With asured steps, Joseph ascended the staircase to the podium. There, he took the contract scroll from the extension and ripped it to shreds.
His father remained silent as we all observed him intently, and it beca evident to everyone that he was employing a skill possessed by only one in a million.
"Give a contract scroll," Joseph requested, casting a glance at his father positioned behind the podium.
His father obeyed, handing him a contract scroll. Joseph placed the scroll on the extension and sliced his palm with the golden knife.
’Drip-drip!"
Joseph’s blood seeped onto the paper, staining it a deep black.
Ten brides and grooms stood with us on the altar, arranged in two lines extending toward the west and east.
"Now," Joseph began, his eyes fixed on Annelise, the first among the ten brides. "You shall beco my fifty-fourth bride. Cut your hand and seal our marriage contract."
Before Joseph could pass the knife to a trembling Annelise, her groom, Laurent, seized his hand. "What do you think you’re doing?" Laurent demanded, veins throbbing on his forehead.
"Get your filthy hands off ," Joseph scoffed, slapping Laurent’s hand away.
Without affording Laurent any opportunity to intervene, Joseph seized Annelise in an embrace and kissed her.
Laurent tightened his fist and delivered a punch aid at Joseph.
’Snap!’
With a snap of his finger, Joseph transford Laurent into a frog.
"Co on, cut your palm and seal our marriage," Joseph said, passing the knife to Annelise.
With trembling hands, Annelise took the knife and sliced her palm.
"Should we not take action?" I whispered to Cupcake, who was across from , with Lady Beatrice standing between us.
"We do nothing," she replied, glancing back at . "Our primary objective is to determine the nature of his skill."
’Drip-drip.’
With tears streaming down her face, Annelise soaked the contract scroll with her blood, thereby officially becoming Joseph’s fifty-fifth wife.
"Good," Joseph remarked, taking her hand and guiding her away from the podium.
"You’re next," he said, gesturing toward the second woman in the line of the remaining nine brides.
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