The funeral was simple, but many guests attended.
However, events unfolded in a much more abstract way than Mil had imagined…
For some reason, the people from the Holy City’s Papal Court never arrived. Everyone waited from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon.
The nobles’ luxurious silk umbrellas drooped in the heatwave, a few old ladies clutched silver smelling salt bottles, drowsy, and even the Royal Guard’s horses impatiently pawed the ground.
And Emperor Albert III was a particularly carefree person:
“How about Mil presides over the funeral?”
“Huh?!”
“That’s right! Mil, aren’t you a Cardinal Deacon?”
Earl Connor, his grandfather, stomped his cane on the ground and joined in the clamor.
When it was Chinese New Year, my parents insisted I perform a talent in front of relatives.jpg
“No, where is the Bishop of the Royal Capital?”
“In the Holy City. They were supposed to come together, and by rights, they should have arrived last night.”
Duke Charles explained. Mil’s innocent gaze turned back to the Emperor:
“But I don’t know how! I’m an honorary cardinal!”
“No matter. The dead cannot be brought back to life. A funeral is merely a farewell from the living to the dead.”
“Then I… I’ll just do what I know?”
The Emperor nodded in silent assent.
So, Mil patched together an outfit that looked somewhat appropriate.
“The cardinal’s robe tie should be wrapped below the seventh rib.”
As Lilith adjusted Mil’s collar, her fingertips brushed his collarbone, “Holy Scripture, Chapter 114, Verse 5 states: ‘Let no cleric be constrained by worldly fabrics’.”
“I’m more inclined to practice Chapter 3 of the “Black Magic Practical Guide” right now.”
“Do you dare to speak louder?”
“Doo-woo—!”
As the Royal Knights’s long horn sounded, the coffin procession made its way to the cemetery.
The burial ceremony began under the midday sun.
The moment Mil took the gilded chalice, he suddenly understood why the Holy City Bishops always prolonged their prayers—
When four hundred pairs of eyes simultaneously pierced his back, even the rustling of wind through the grass sounded like a death knell.
The nuns followed the procession, splashing holy water into the sky in a seemingly meaningless way, as per Mil’s request;
And Otto’s widow, holding his portrait, walked in the very front row.
The cemetery was on the lawn behind the palace, with white tombstones of various shapes neatly arranged on the hillside.
On both sides were two rows of unicorn stone sculptures, rearing their front hooves high, leading the way up the mountain;
In the middle was a huge white angel statue, clad in armor, leaning on a long sword…
Under the sunlight, it appeared solemn and sacred.
Mil faced the statue, yelling at the top of his lungs:
“The auspicious time has arrived—! I respectfully invite First Prince Otto to rest in peace!”
“Dong—!”
He swung the holy hammer at the fleur-de-lis shield, the metallic clash startling a flock of white doves across the mountain.
A certain viscountess let out a short shriek, and Lilith quickly steadied the stumbling empress, her falling hair concealing the twitch of her lips.
Everyone suddenly trembled in fright, their eyes wide with surprise, frowning as they looked at Mil, who continued to shout:
“Everyone, stand at attention, bow your heads in silent farewell!”
“Dong—!”
Within the quiet and peaceful cemetery, pierced by bursts of shouts, Albert III suddenly felt some regret, but it was clearly too late.
“Dong dong dong—!”
“Today, the yellow earth holds sorrow, and the green pines shed tears. We are here to offer three cups of clear wine to the heroic spirit, and a handful of pure earth to cover the elegant one.”
After he finished speaking, a young nun beside him brought three cups of whiskey.
“First, to heaven and earth, may the generous earth forever shelter loyal bones; second, to the ancestral spirits, may they bless the prosperity and continuation of descendants; third, to the afterlife, may Prince Otto’s soul return to pure land and ascend to the Holy Country soon.”
As the three cups of whiskey were splashed onto the brand new oak coffin lid, Albert III’s facial muscles visibly twitched.
“Dong dong lang dong… dong dong dong!”
The jarring knocking sounds repeatedly challenged Emperor Albert’s bottom line. Mil waved his hand, signaling everyone to lower the coffin:
“Here, the five grains fall with the coffin, blessing descendants with complete five blessings. Seal—the—earth—! May the deceased rest in peace, and the living forever remember!”
Twenty bags of wheat were poured out in response, the rising dust causing the nobles in the front row to collectively pull out silk handkerchiefs.
After he finished speaking, the Royal Knights began to bury the soil.
Albert III finally breathed a sigh of relief, turning to glare at Earl Connor, who merely shrugged, looking completely unconcerned.
Of course, Mil did not forget to offer a bouquet of flowers to Alice after the tombstone was placed.
But this funeral wasn’t over yet…
The nuns and maids came over, carrying a large pile of items, and set up a wooden platform.
The Emperor turned to look, and it was all of Otto’s favorite oil paintings, poems, tables, chairs, and benches from when he was alive.
“Wait, what are they doing?”
After a brief ritual, Mil handed the torch in his hand to a knight nearby, then smiled and explained to the Emperor:
“Through this method, the deceased’s favorite belongings can be sent to the Holy Country.”
“No, you wait a…!”
“Dong dong dong—!”
With that, a torch set everything ablaze, even the angel sculpture nearby was blackened with soot.
When the flames from burning the relics soared three meters high, Mil finally caught the genuine astonishment in Earl Connor’s eyes;
The old Earl gazed at the gilded harp curling in the fire, a gift he had given to Otto on his sixtieth birthday.
The firelight illuminated the fine wrinkles at the corners of the old man’s eyes, and a look akin to pain flashed across his face.
“As expected of someone who could organize a Demon Race lecture.”
Lilith whispered close to Mil’s ear, her warm breath carrying the scent of violets:
“That original painting of ‘The Rite of Spring’ you burned could fetch the equipment for thirty Holy Knights on the black market.”
Mil cleared his throat nonchalantly:
“We are deeply grateful for your presence in escorting the coffin. The ceremony is complete—!”
After shouting the last line, Mil looked at Emperor Albert and said:
“Your Majesty, the feast can be arranged!”
…
“Princess Diana, you’d best explain sooner, exactly how did you instigate the Royal Knights to rebel?”
Inside the interrogation room, the Imperial Judicator wore a sinister smile.
Diana sat opposite him, her cold gaze seeming to pierce through the person across from her.
“Is this kind of interrogation meaningful?”
“There’s a saying in a foreign land that goes well, of course… I don’t know the exact words, but the general meaning is, a wise man submits to circumstances!”
“So what? Am I supposed to admit to crimes that aren’t mine? And then, as you wish, obediently go to my death? You don’t even have the courage to torture me, it’s purely a waste of time!”
The sun had already set, and the time for the escape, as her teacher had mentioned, was drawing closer. Diana felt a little worried.
The Imperial Judicator pulled a letter from his chest and pushed it in front of Diana:
“Heh heh, what if I told you… Prince Otto isn’t dead yet?”
Diana’s eyes suddenly widened, and she took a deep breath, opening the letter…
Familiar handwriting, one by one, came into view.
Watching her astonished expression, the Imperial Judicator sneered:
“We don’t necessarily have to force you and Prince Otto into a dead end…”
“What exactly do you want?”
“His Majesty is also reluctant to kill you. As long as you admit guilt, at most you will only be demoted to commoner. And Otto will only be under house arrest; we will not take his life.”
As he spoke, the Imperial Judicator fiddled with the silver emblem in his hand, symbolizing imperial law and fairness;
His mocking gaze scrutinized Diana’s delicate face, then he paused and continued:
“But if you refuse to confess, we can only… send him on his way.”
“A single letter cannot prove he is still alive.”
“I guessed you’d say that. You can prove it in a simple way in the next letter, for example… agree on a secret that only the two of you know?”
“Alright, but I have one more question, are Mil and you… working together?”
“Hmph… If you were as sensible as Mil, we wouldn’t have to go to such lengths.”
With that, the Judicator stretched, exhaling a puff of stale air.
Just then, another adjutant leaned into his ear and quietly whispered a few words…
Upon hearing this, the Imperial Judicator abruptly sat upright, slapping the table and cursing angrily:
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? I just…!”
The adjutant beside him leaned into his ear again, explaining in a very low voice:
“His Third Highness, he also just received the news.”
The Judicator looked at Diana again, gritting his teeth and threatening:
“Princess Diana! If you dare to escape…!”
“Bang—!”
Before he could finish, a huge explosion echoed through the prison, shaking the entire building.
Then, the walls of the interrogation room melted into lava, and the Chief Royal Mage, Volk, clad in a black robe, stood outside the wall:
“Princess Diana, it’s time to go.”
Diana silently rose and walked out of the interrogation room. The Judicator, still unwilling, roared angrily:
“Mr. Volk! If you do this…!”
“Snap!”
Volk snapped his fingers, and the Judicator’s unspoken words were caught in his throat.
Then, Volk extended a finger and began to gently twirl it, and the Judicator’s head also began to spin with his finger…
One turn, two turns, three turns…
Until the skin tore, muscles snapped, throat dislocated, and the head rolled from the shoulders to the ground.