Lord of Entertainment C257 The Two Towers

(3rd Person POV)

The hype was real as the Anatolia region became the first to welcome March 4th, marking the official release of The Two Towers.

Cinemas buzzed with energy, their entrances flooded with eager fans. People poured in from all over—not just locals, but travelers from Evros, Empirica, and even Eden, all desperate to be among the first to witness the long-awaited sequel.

Among them was Dianna James, a veteran film critic who had built her reputation over the last six years.

At the Grand Morningstar Cinema, the sight of demons, elves, and dwarves chatting excitedly as they shuffled toward their seats made her smile.

It was rare—almost unheard of—for a single film to draw this kind of global attention.

For the first two years of her career, Dianna had been notoriously hard to please, critiquing films ruthlessly and tearing apart big-budget productions that failed to impress her.

Then came Demonfather.

Arthur’s first major film had changed everything for her. It had been five years since that day, but she still remembered it vividly.

Back then, Arthur had been a rising talent, not yet the unstoppable force he was now.

Now?

He had reshaped the entire entertainment industry.

Dianna sighed to herself, taking in the thousands of eager faces around her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen something like this…” she murmured.

VFX films were on the rise, but no other studio—not even the biggest names in the industry—could match the sheer excitement that Hellfire Studios commanded.

Even Arthur’s previous films hadn’t reached this level of anticipation—except for Demonfather Part II.

And yet, even that couldn’t compare to The Two Towers.

Settling into her seat, Dianna made herself comfortable, holding popcorn and a drink as she waited for the film to begin.

Nearby, conversations between fans filled the air.

“I’ve waited years for this sequel… If it disappoints me, I swear I’m gonna curse Arthur,” a demon grumbled, arms crossed.

His friend snorted. “I’m already disappointed in him for betraying our kingdom. If this film betrays us too, I’ll be furious.”

Dianna suppressed a chuckle.

The Morningstar Kingdom was still sore over the infamous weak prince’s departure.

The bitterness had only grown worse, strengthened by the kingdom’s media outlets, which spread false claims that Arthur refused to support his homeland despite his wealth.

Dianna didn’t know the full truth behind Arthur’s departure—whether it was because of tax disputes, family discrimination, or something else entirely—but one thing was certain:

Arthur had made the right decision.

Neither the royal family nor the commoners had seen his worth back then. And now, they wanted to benefit from his success.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the theater lights dimmed.

The audience hushed.

Then, the opening notes of the film’s iconic theme rang out.

A ripple of anticipation ran through the crowd.

To everyone’s surprise, the screen faded in to reveal a familiar scene from The Fellowship of the Ring.

Dianna’s brow furrowed.

'Don’t tell me this whole movie is going to be filled with flashbacks from the first one…'

She muttered her thoughts under her breath, and judging by the restless murmurs around her, others were thinking the same thing.

Displeasure started creeping into the theater.

Then, the scene focused on Gandalf, standing before the Balrog, protecting the others.

A sharp pain of nostalgia hit the fans.

For many, Gandalf’s sacrifice had been one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the first film.

A voice from the back called out in frustration. “Why in the nine hells are they showing us this again?!”

“Are they trying to remind us of everything in case we forgot?!” another groaned.

“Well, it’s been four years…” someone muttered, earning a few chuckles from the audience.

Even Dianna shook her head in amusement.

But just as people started bracing for disappointment, something changed.

The scene shifted—no longer just a recap.

The screen followed Gandalf and the Balrog as they fell into the abyss.

And to everyone’s shock, Gandalf was still fighting.

The entire theater fell silent.

Eyes widened.

Mouths hung open.

Hope flickered among the fans.

Could it be?

Could Gandalf still be alive?

But then, the camera cut to Frodo, jerking awake from a dream.

The truth sank in.

It had been nothing more than a memory.

And the realization hit the audience like a hammer.

The fans couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment—Gandalf was truly gone.

With that realization sinking in, they turned their attention back to the movie, watching as Frodo and Sam continued their journey toward Mordor.

Then, from the shadows, a hunched, creeping figure emerged—Gollum.

His silhouette lurked in the distance, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling light as he silently observed the hobbits.

Moments later, he seemed to whisper a spell, causing Frodo and Sam to fall into a deep, dreamlike sleep.

The audience tensed.

They watched, uneasy, as Gollum inched closer, his muttering voice slithering through the scene like a venomous whisper.

Would he steal the Ring? Would he harm them?

The tension peaked—then broke as the two hobbits suddenly awoke, catching Gollum before he could act.

A collective sigh of relief spread through the theater.

But the relief was short-lived.

Frodo—ever trusting—fell for Gollum’s deceit, much to the frustration of the audience.

"Don't trust him!"

Many fans gritted their teeth as they watched Frodo undo the rope binding Gollum, while Sam, far more skeptical, glared at the creature with undisguised suspicion.

Even if Sam wasn't buying it, Frodo refused to listen.

The movie pressed on, shifting focus.

Now, the audience witnessed Merry and Pippin, both bound and carried away by orcs.

They watched as Merry cleverly manipulated the orcs, and then came a moment of sudden tension—the orc leader sniffed the air, his face twisting in alarm.

"Man-flesh!" he snarled.

The orcs erupted into chaos, their movements becoming frantic.

Some of the fans tensed, nervous about what would happen next—

But for the two hobbits?

They were thrilled.

Pippin’s voice rang out with genuine excitement, “Aragorn!”

Then, in a calculated move, Merry dropped a broken leaf brooch, marking a trail.

The scene shifted once more—and soon, the man himself appeared.

Aragorn.

The moment his familiar presence graced the screen, the audience erupted in cheers.

“Hell yeah! It’s Aragorn!”

“He looks even more handsome!” A succubus in the crowd licked her lips, admiring the screen with hungry eyes.

As the crowd buzzed with chatter about Aragorn, a sharp scoff cut through the murmurs—coming from the VIP section.

It was Lucy—the princess of Morningstar.

Why was she here?

Simple.

Lucy had grown curious about the recent hype. At first, she hadn’t cared about some so-called film called The Lord of the Rings.

But after seeing how obsessed people had become, she decided to watch a copy on TV to understand what made it so special.

And to her?

The story itself didn’t interest her in the slightest.

But the concept of powerful artifacts, of rings that could rule the world—that had grabbed her attention.

It was no wonder there had once been a craze over artifact rings.

And remembering that made her irritated all over again—

Because she had once been scammed at an auction, tricked into buying a useless space ring.

Just thinking about it annoyed her, but deep down, she still believed that rings of true power might exist.

And that was why she was really here.

She wanted to see if this so-called movie contained any clues about how powerful the One Ring truly was.

After all, in the first film, the Ring’s capabilities weren’t fully displayed.

And Lucy knew her brother Arthur well.

Lucy knew that her brother Arthur had read countless books, far more than the average scholar. It wasn’t impossible that, somewhere among those pages, he had come across ancient texts about powerful rings—and perhaps, he had used that knowledge as inspiration for his movie.

She had no idea what kind of books they could be, nor where he might have found them.

She had even tried searching for similar records herself, combing through old libraries, private collections, and even restricted archives.

But no matter where she looked—she found nothing.